A Girl in a Box

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"Skull and Lizard"by Kawanabe Kyosai

(Translated and arranged by Saya)

This happened more than 10 years ago. At the time, my grandfather was working as a cabinetmaker.

I would often visit his workshop because I loved watching him make furniture. 

That day, I went to my grandfather's workshop as usual, and I was playing with the pieces of wood that were lying all over the floor. 

My grandfather sat in front of a table, completely absorbed in his work. 

His hands were large and rough, but they moved with surprising dexterity, shaving and curving pieces of woods, or assembling them together. 

I stopped playing for a moment and just watched him at work, captivated by his extraordinary skills.

After some time, I noticed something strange.

Behind my grandfather, there were a few wooden planks, shining with a black lustre that came from long use, propped up against a wall.

And I saw a girl's face peeking through a gap between those planks.

The girl wore her hair in a bob and I guessed she was standing in the space between the wall and the planks. 

Only half of her face and her whole body were visible, the rest being seemingly hidden behind the planks. 

Her white face stood out against the dark corner of the room, looking almost as if it was floating in the air.

I walked past my grandfather who was busy working away at the desk, and made my way to the wall where the planks were. 

The white face didn't react to me approaching it, and the eyes stayed fixated on my grandfather's back.

Even when I got so close, I still couldn't see her body and half of her face. And I also noticed there was not enough space for someone to stand behind the planks. 

I was about to open my mouth to say something to the face, when suddenly my grandfather spoke:

"....Don't talk to her."

I had never heard him speak in such a deep voice.

I turned around but he still sat at the work table with his back to me. 

--- Grandad, who is this girl?

"That woman was inside a box I created with those wooden planks. Don't pay any attention to her and leave her alone." 

I couldn't understand his words but I decided to keep a distance from the wall.

After that, my grandfather continued to work silently without so much as a glance over his shoulder. 

I again started playing with the pieces of woods on the floor, but curiosity made me look behind my grandfather once more; but the face was already gone, and all I saw were the lustrous black wooden planks.

Since then, even though I would continue to visit my grandfather in his workshop often, I would never see that face again. 

Ten years later, in the spring before last, my grandfather fell ill and was admitted to the hospital, and died soon after.

In preparation for his funeral, *1 we gathered the things my grandfather treasured while he was alive, so that we could put them in his coffin. 

There was a small wooden box among the collection.

The box measured about ten by ten centimetres, and the wood had a black lustre to it. 

As soon as I saw it, the memory of those black wooden planks I saw in my grandfather's workshop came flooding back to me.

---- Isn't this box made of those planks?

I picked it up. It felt much heavier than it looked. As there was no lid, I shook it, but it made no sound.

According to my aunt who looked after my grandfather until his death, he particularly cherished this box in the last years of his life, and even took it with him when he was hospitalised, always keeping it by his pillow.

Because of this, we decided to place the box by his head inside the coffin.

By and by, the funeral began, but 

something strange happened during the service.

The monk kept peering into the coffin. 

My father felt he looked suspicious and asked him what he was doing. 

The monk asked him in return, "is this gentleman really dead?" 

It was quite unbelievable thing to hear and my father was taken aback.

Moreover, while chanting a sutra, the monk behaved as if he were often distracted by the coffin, and he even stopped chanting for a number of times. 

After the funeral, my grandfather's body was cremated.

My family gathered to pick up the bones. (Note: this is a usual funeral ritual *2 )

A metal slab was carried from the incinerator to where we waited. 

Picking up bones 

The slab was still burning hot like a stove, and when I went closer to it, I saw some fragments of white bones half-buried among the ashes.

As we picked up the bones with iron chopsticks, a crematorium worker informed us of the type of bone we were picking.

"The cranium would be laid on top later, so please leave it until the end."

"Which one is the larynx bone?"

"This one."

All the bones were placed into an urn. 

But it was slow to fill up.

"Please pick up more of them."

"We are trying... but there doesn't seem to be a lot of them left."

"We have just installed a new incinerator. It is so powerful that usually most of the bones are burnt to cinders. Elderly people's bones, being fragile, are particularly easy to burn. This gentleman's bones seem quite strong though. There are more bones remaining than I expected."

"Well, he was a robust man..."

"This?"

"That's the pelvis. And the one next to it is a thighbone."

"How about this one here?"

"That's the larynx bone."

Everyone in the room exchanged a puzzled glance with one another.

We were sure we had already put the larynx bone into the urn. 

The assistant re-examined the bones we had collected.

"It seems...We have extra bones here..." 

The statement caused a pandemonium in the room. 

The police came, and we were detained for questioning.

They investigated the bones in cooperation with the crematorium worker, and found that, even though the majority of the bones had been reduced to ashes, they could clearly identify two skulls.

But to whom the second skull belonged remained a mystery. 

The police questioned us about it but no one had a clue as to where the skull came from.

The lid of the coffin was nailed shut right in front of us before it was sent to the crematorium, but of course we didn't see someone else's head inside it.

All that the coffin contained within it were the body of my grandfather, and the various objects he once cherished, including that black box.

Considering the size of the coffin, it could not have had any room for another person's head either.

Could it be that only the bones somehow managed to get inside it? 

But they said that bones without meat on them would have immediately been burnt to ashes.

In the end, it was impossible to arrive on a clear-cut conclusion based on what we knew and had then, and we were finally dismissed late that night.

The police kept the bones of my grandfather for a while, but they were returned to us before the 49-day mourning period was over. *3

The bones are now properly buried at the final resting place.

As for the bones of the unknown person, I managed to retrieve the larynx bone from the police.

I put it inside a small box and buried it next to my grandfather's bones, and laid a little stone on top of it in place of a tombstone.

Nothing strange has happened to me since then.

The truth of this story remains hidden under those tombstones.

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Notes:

*1 --- The Complicated Rituals of Japanese Funerals

Japanese funeral on YouTube

*2 --- Bone Picking (骨揚げ Kotsuage):

Kotsuage: The Japanese Cremation Ritual Explained

How to Pick Bones (at a Japanese funeral) in Japan

*3 --- 49 days after death

"The urn with the remains returns home and is buried in a grave after 49 days. Forty-nine days, in Buddhism, or seven weeks after death, is the period of time during which the spirit of the dead wanders between this world and the next. Relatives will hold a memorial service during this time to help the spirit reach Nirvana."

From What is Kan-kou-sou-sai? 

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This is unrelated to the story, but I wanted post this relaxing video for those who are interested in it! 😊💓

This video is about a night walk through Yokohama, my hometown.