Free PDF The Ghost in the Tokaido Inn (The Samurai Mysteries), by Dorothy Hoobler Thomas Hoobler
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The Ghost in the Tokaido Inn (The Samurai Mysteries), by Dorothy Hoobler Thomas Hoobler
Free PDF The Ghost in the Tokaido Inn (The Samurai Mysteries), by Dorothy Hoobler Thomas Hoobler
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About the Author
Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler are historians and authors of over sixty books, both fiction and nonfiction, mostly for young readers. They are the authors of the well-loved American Family Album series, including The Japanese American Family Album, which was named a Carter G. Woodson Honor Book in 1997.The Society for School Librarians International chose their book Showa: The Era of Hirohito for a best book award in 1991, and they have been cited for excellence by the Library of Congress, the Parents' Choice Foundation, Bank Street College, the International Reading Association, the National Conference of Christians and Jews, and the New York Public Library. The Hooblers make their home in New York City. They have one daughter and are active in community affairs.copyright © 2000 by Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers. All rights reserved.Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler are historians and authors of over sixty books, both fiction and nonfiction, mostly for young readers. They are the authors of the well-loved American Family Album series, including The Japanese American Family Album, which was named a Carter G. Woodson Honor Book in 1997.The Society for School Librarians International chose their book Showa: The Era of Hirohito for a best book award in 1991, and they have been cited for excellence by the Library of Congress, the Parents' Choice Foundation, Bank Street College, the International Reading Association, the National Conference of Christians and Jews, and the New York Public Library. The Hooblers make their home in New York City. They have one daughter and are active in community affairs.copyright © 2000 by Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers. All rights reserved.
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Chapter three: A Ghost StoryFather was not as disappointed as Seikei thought he would be. "What can you expect?" he said, shrugging. "This is not so bad. At least he paid you, and we didn't give him our best tea. Now let's go to bed." "Father, I cannot sleep," said Seikei. "I am too excited." "We have another long day of travel tomorrow," Father said. "I can sleep in the Kago." "Well, I cannot," Father said. "I must get my rest." "There is a terrace at the back of the inn," said Seikei. "Could I go there to look at the view until I feel tired?" Father shrugged. "If you wish," he said. "But do not leave the inn. The streets of this town are dangerous at night." Seikei left, promising that he would not stay long. When he reached the terrace, he found that rain had started to fall softly. Though the stone floor was covered with mats, it felt cool through his cotton tabi, or socks. He walked to the railing that overlooked a small pond. The rain clouds had covered the moon and only a soft glow fell onto the water. He didn't mind the rain falling on his head. He felt feverish from his experience in the daimyo's quarters. I was afraid, he admitted to himself, just to be in his presence. He jumped at the sound of a footstep just behind him. He whirled and saw the girl. "I'm sorry," she said. "Did I startle you?" "No," he said hastily. "I mean, I didn't expect to find someone here." "Should I leave?" she said It was hard for Seikei to speak. The girl seemed even more beautiful than she had before. "No, please," he said. "Stay." "Was your master pleased with the paper?" she asked. Seikei was confused. "Who?" "The daimyo. I saw you in his room." Now he understood. "No, no. I was there for the same reason you were. My father is a tea merchant. Excuse me. My name is Konoike Seikei." She bowed. "I am called Michiko. My family name is Ogawa." "Is it true that your family knew the poet Basho?" She smiled, and he realized that it was rude to question her honesty. "I ask," he said, "only because I greatly admire Basho's poetry." Michiko put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. Seikei knew why she was amused. Because he was a merchant's son, and merchants care for nothing except money. He looked away from her, feeling ashamed. Then his eyes fell upon the pond, and he remembered one of Basho's poems. Seikei took a deep breath, and began to recite: Clouds come from time to time—and bring to men a chance to restfrom looking at the moon. The girl clapped her hands. "That was the same poem I was thinking of before you appeared." Seikei turned back to see her smile. He realized that she was not mocking him. Without thinking, he blurted out his secret wish: "I would so much like to be a samurai like Basho, and devote my life to poetry." Michiko nodded. "But you do not have to be a samurai for that," she said. "Anyone can write poetry, if they wish." "My father says it is not something a merchant should do. Only a samurai, and I can never be a samurai." "I do not believe that," Michiko said. "Did you hear the poem that the daimyo wrote?" "Yes." "And didn't you see his brush-writing?" Seikei nodded. "So you know," Michiko said, "that although he is a samurai, he does not have a noble spirit." Seikei was surprised by the girl's boldness. "He was rude to you," he said. "I admired your courage." "You thought I was courageous?" She shrugged. "I only reminded myself that my family needed to sell the paper." Seikei nodded. "It is true that Basho was a samurai," Michiko said. "But he discarded his swords. Isn't it Basho's spirit that we admire in his poetry? Though you are a merchant's son, you can still develop a noble spirit—brave, honest, and faithful to your family. And if you do, who can stop you from writing poetry?" Seikei had no answer. He wondered how his father would reply. They stared across the pond for a while. The sound of laughter came across the water from the other side. "Some traveling kabuki are giving a play at the monastery," Michiko said. "I wanted to see it, but my father has been feeling ill all day. I used some of the gold the daimyo gave me to buy herbal tea for his stomach." "I have never seen a kabuki play," Seikei said. "Father says they are improper." "I think they are exciting," Michiko said. "Some are very scary, with goblins and ghosts." "I like ghost stories," said Seikei. "Do you? I know one that Basho told to my grandmother when she was a child. Would you like to hear it?" "Very much," he replied. "I will see if I can frighten you," she teased. "Let us go under the roof, so that the rain won't fall on us." Seikei had forgotten about the rain. He would gladly have stood there all night to listen to this girl. They sat down where the overhanging roof gave shelter. It was darker here, and the girl's face disappeared in the shadows. Seikei could hear only her voice. "Well, then," she began. "Long ago, a Buddhist priest named Kokushi was traveling alone through the mountains. It was getting dark, and he had lost his way. He came upon a little hut, like the ones hermits sometimes live in to meditate on the Buddhist teachings. "An old man opened the door when Kokushi knocked. He wore the orange robe of a Buddhist monk, but it was faded and worn. The monk refused to let Kokushi stay with him, but said there was a village on the other side of the hill. There, Kokushi could find food and lodging. "Kokushi found this to be true. But in the village, no one answered his knock. All the houses seemed to be empty. Finally, he found the people gathered in one house, weeping and praying. "The head of the village had died that day. His body lay in this house, and everyone had brought offerings of food to see him into the next life. "The village had no priest, and Kokushi offered to perform the Buddhist rites for the man's soul. But the dead man's son said that no one could remain in the village on the night after a death. 'Strange things happen on that night,' he said, 'and it would be better if you came with us to the next village.' "Kokushi replied that he had no fear. He would be glad to keep watch over the old man's body. The others tried to persuade him to leave, but he would not. "At last, they departed, leaving him alone with the body. Kokushi said the Buddhist prayers and blew out all the lamps except one next to the body. He sat quietly meditating, but he was curious about what strange things might happen. "Hours passed, and Kokushi began to doze. Suddenly, he realized that something else had entered the house. A mist gathered around the dead body. Kokushi saw the face of a horrible demon emerge from the mist. It was a horned beast, with ferocious teeth flashing in the mist. The demon lifted the body with its claw and began to devour it. "As quickly as a cat swallows a mouse, the demon ate everything—hair, bones, even the shroud. And this monstrous creature, after consuming the body, turned to the food offerings and ate them also. Then it went away as silently as it had come. "In the morning, the villagers returned. They did not seem surprised to find that the body had disappeared. The dead man's son told Kokushi, 'Now you know why it is a law in our village that everyone must leave on the night after a death. But you are unharmed, and so must be a holy man.' "Kokushi asked, 'Why do you not have the monk on the hill perform the funeral service for your dead?' "The villagers did not understand him. 'There is no monk living near our village,' they said. 'For many years now, we have had no priest, for all fled when they saw what you have seen.' "Kokushi took his leave, and walked back the way he had come. He found the little hut, and again knocked on the door. When it opened, the monk covered his eyes and said, 'Ah! I am so ashamed.' "You need not be ashamed for refusing me shelter,' Kokushi said. 'I was very kindly treated in the village.' "The monk replied, 'I am ashamed because you saw me in my true form. It was I who devoured the corpse and the offerings last night before your eyes. For I am a jikininki—an eater of human flesh.' "The monk explained that he once had been a priest, the only one for miles around. 'The people would bring me their dead so that I might pray over them. But I greedily ate the offerings that they had brought for the dead to enjoy. And when I died, as punishment I was sent back to earth as a jikininki.' He hung his head. 'Now all men must flee from the sight of me, or they will die.' " 'Yet I saw you,' said Kokushi, 'and I did not die.' " 'You must be a holy man,' the jikininki said. 'I beg you, pray for me so that I may be released from this hideous state of existence.' "Kokushi began to say the proper Buddhist prayers, and when he looked up, the monk had vanished, along with the little hut in which he lived. Kokushi found himself alone in the grass, next to a tombstone covered with moss. It was a go-rin-ishi, the stone that marks the grave of a priest. "Did you ever hear this story before?" Michiko asked Seikei. "No," Seikei said. "It was a good one, but I was not afraid." "I must return to my father now," said Michiko. "Perhaps we will meet again, and then you can read me a poem you have written." "I promise," said Seikei. He watched as she rose and went into the inn. How graceful she is, he thought. After she left, a cool wind blew across the terrace, sending a chill through Seikei. The play across the lake was over, and now all was silent. He began to think of the jikininki, and stood up. It was too quiet and too dark. He had the odd feeling that something might be hiding in the darkness beyond the terrace. He didn't want to stay out here any longer. Chapter 4: The Hour of the RatSeikei hurried back to the room where his father was sleeping. He took off his kimono and lay down on the other mat. But he didn't fall asleep. The inn was still noisy. Only rice-paper screens separated one room from another, and Seikei could hear Lord Hakuseki's men talking loudly in other rooms along the corridor. They were drinking rice wine, and showed no concern for the slumbers of other guests. Seikei heard his father snoring. All the noise did not disturb his sleep. Seikei knew that tomorrow would bring another long, uncomfortable trip in the kago. He sighed, and tried to shut the sound out of his ears. Then loud shouts made him sit up and listen. He could hear very clearly, though the voice was farther down the hallway. It was Lord Hakuseki himself. He was scolding one of the inn's servants for not bringing the wine quickly enough. The sound of a blow was followed by a muffled cry. Then heavy footsteps and a loud thud. The servant had been thrown out on the wooden floor of the hallway. Much laughter followed from the other samurai. Truly, as the girl Michiko had said, this daimyo did not have a noble spirit. I would not be that way if I were a samurai, Seikei thought. He reminded himself of the three qualities of a samurai—loyalty, right conduct, and bravery. Right conduct meant setting an example for others to follow. Lord Hakuseki, powerful though he was, did not know the difference between right and wrong. The noise of the partying continued for some time. Gradually, it began to die down. Seikei heard the slow footsteps of a samurai going down the hall to the privy in the courtyard, and then returning. Finally, the inn became quiet. Seikei tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. He regretted telling the girl he liked ghost stories. Now he could not get the image of the jikininki out of his mind. The dim light from the corridor shone through the rice-paper walls of the room. The walls were decorated with a pattern of whorls and curlicues. Every time Seikei looked in their direction, he seemed to see large eyes staring at him. Far off, a temple bell rang once, a hollow sound that meant the first hour after midnight had begun—the Hour of the Rat. Seikei closed his eyes, but he could hear the sounds of heavy breathing all around him. He knew it was only the occupants of the rooms on either side. But it sounded like a gang of jikininkis waiting to gobble him up as soon as he fell asleep. Then his body tensed. He heard another sound. Something was sliding across the floor outside the doorway. Seikei's eyes popped open, and he saw the bamboo-screen door begin to slide open, very, very, slowly. Seikei felt his hair stand on end. As he watched in horror, the door opened wide. Something was standing behind it—something larger than a man. The light in the hallway was too dim for Seikei to see anything more than a shadow. But he could see that it had a huge head, with horns sticking out of it. Seikei sat up as quickly as if he had been a marionette on strings. He waved his arms wildly, and tried to say, "I'm not dead!" But his throat was paralyzed with fear, and only a squeak came out. The shadow turned in his direction. Seikei saw its eyes flash in the light from the hallway. The creature's white face looked down on Seikei. It stared at him for a second and then raised one arm. Seikei saw a small object in its hand, red and glowing like a fiery eye. The ghostly form waved the red object toward him. To Seikei, it seemed like the spirit was trying to cast a spell on him. The shadow moved backward, and the door slid closed again. Seikei felt as if he were made of stone. He could not move a muscle, but his heart was pounding so fast that he thought his chest would break open. His ears were so keen now that he thought he could hear insects crawling in the corners of the room. As he listened, he heard a door sliding back. The ghost must be going into another room. What should I do? Seikei asked himself. He must get up and raise an alarm. It would be his fault if the monster devoured some other sleeping person. Perhaps even the girl, Michiko. He clenched his fists, and thought of the first quality of a samurai—bravery. He must do it. He forced himself to stand, but his legs were shaking and weak. Ignore weakness, he told himself. Move forward without thinking. He took a step toward the door. When he reached it, he had to remind himself again not to think of danger. Death had no meaning to the samurai, he told himself, for that is the fate of all and it does not matter if it comes today or tomorrow. He slid the door open, and looked out in the corridor. At the far end, where the darkness was deepest, he saw the shadow moving. Seikei found again that fear silenced his voice. He was angry at himself, and stamped his foot. As soon as he did this, the shadow began to sink into the floor. Seikei could hardly believe what he saw. Bit by bit, it shrank from sight until only its great horned head was visible. Then that disappeared as well. Nothing remained. Seikei looked around. The corridor was empty and silent. All the doors were tightly closed. He walked to the place where the shadow had disappeared. There was a door beyond it, but he was sure it had not opened. Checking, he slid it aside and looked out. The rain had stopped and the moon shone brightly over the courtyard beyond. Nothing was there. Seikei went back to his own room and shut the door. He was calmer now, proud of himself for having been brave enough to follow the ghost. Perhaps when he stamped his foot, he had frightened it away. He lay down on his mat again. The inn was peaceful. Once more he heard the sounds of snoring people. But they did not seem so fearful now. Something told him that the danger was gone. But what had it been? Why did it come to his door? All night, he asked himself those questions. Finally, when the first twittering sparrows outside signaled the dawn, he fell asleep. But he did not rest for long. Text copyright © 1999 by Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler, published by Philomel Books, a division of Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers
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Product details
Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: Puffin Books; Reissue edition (September 8, 2005)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0142405418
ISBN-13: 978-0142405413
Product Dimensions:
4.9 x 0.6 x 7 inches
Shipping Weight: 4.8 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
Average Customer Review:
4.1 out of 5 stars
41 customer reviews
Amazon Best Sellers Rank:
#242,562 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
My son is starting Jr. High and was looking for a book with some Japanese history and tradition built into the story. I have been studying Kendo and Japanese culture for many years and have a good understanding of the culture. As we read the book together the author introduces a good number of historical references from the Edo period in Japan. I find it endearing that each time my son and I stop to discuss the significance of a Japanese world or concept the author explains the meaning and origin in the next passage. We learned to just read on and let the author educate and entertain. The writing is uncomplicated and it flows nicely from chapter to chapter. The book is clearly aimed at a younger audience, but I find it entertaining and education too.
Back in the six grade, which was in like 2002 for me, I was looking in the Library at school for a book I had to do a report on. The Teacher had assigned us books and all I remembered was that mine had "Ghost" in it. Being the lazy little brat I was, I grabbed it and checked it out. As a dyslexic person, I hated and really still do hate reading...less I find something that catches my attention. Which is exactly what this book did for me. Truly thought my Teacher knew me very well, assigning me a Japanese themed book with how much I liked Japan (turns out I did have the wrong book though).I fell in love with this series so much, when I changed schools and they didn't have any Hoobler Books, I caused a fuss until they got them in. Can't wait for future books.
Winner of the Edgar Award / I was exceptionally pleased with this mystery, much too good for the children!
The Ghost in the Tokaido Inn (GTI) is a samurai mystery taking place in 1735 Japan. Lord Hakuseki is taking a jeweled necklace to the Shogun in Edo (modern Tokyo) and has it stolen from him in an inn in Tokaido. When the jewel was stolen, Seikei (the son of a tea merchant) sees what he believes is a jikininki (a ghoul that eats dead humans) leaving Lord Hakuseki's room.My Likes:Mr. and Ms. Hoobler have done a great job capturing Tokugawa era Japan. There's enough explanation of the Japanese cultural differences to enable people not familiar with it to enjoy the book, but not so much that it bogs the story down. This is something I value when reading about cultures I'm not always familiar with.I also love how the Hoobler's rolled history into the story. First, we have the historical character of Judge Ooka. The Hoobler's have given him realistic capabilities to deduct things similar to what you can read about him historically, no unexplained greatness here, just good simple deduction (btw, Judge Ooka fairs favorably with other western detectives such as Sherlock Holmes and Inspector Perot). I also loved how the story follows the 47 Ronin story both in telling it (quickly) and in its story)Character development is nicely done. Seikei is a good adolescent character that teens and those young of heart can follow easily in the story. He's intelligent and interested in expanding his world past it's current boundary. Tomomi is complexly put together. As the major suspect he's complex and one Seikei learns from. Secondary and tertiary characters play key roles in little ways. Pay attention to them.My Dislikes:Really only one; the story was a little predictable for adults or people familiar with the feudal Japanese culture. Because I'm fairly familiar with feudal Japanese culture I was able to piece most of the mystery together fairly rapidly. Despite this, a nice story that captures the culture of feudal Japan.The Rating:A very solid three star book. I was entertained and enjoyed reading this book. The character a nice, but not as developed as I might hope for. I loved the use of the historical figure Judge Ooka (search for him on Wikipedia) and the tale of the 47 Ronin (a classic tale from Japan). I easily could of rated this one a four star book but things were a little simplistic; I mainly believe this is due to the book being written for young teenagers. I easily predicted the "mystery", that said, for those not familiar with feudal Japan, the mystery might be more entertaining. This said, the story is good, moves nicely, and Seikei makes for an excellent Dr. Watson to Judge Ooka's Sherlock Holmes. I look forward to reading more in the series.10/20 -- Corrections made to this review as recommended by Scribbler. Scribbler noted my English was off a little. So sorry.Domo Arigato Scribbler.Nate
I bought this book for my 11-year-old daughter and she read it non-stop and then recommended that I read it, too (which I thoroughly enjoyed doing). The plot is exciting and the book includes many subtle educational components about Japanese culture and the Samurai tradition. It is NOT a ghost story, but rather a mystery about a theft. Very well-done. We both look forward to reading other books in the series.
This book was a good choice for one of my son's required genre's for school. He found it fascinating and kept him interested - which is rare for a book.
My son read this book for school. I read it as well and enjoyed the view of 18th century Japan that the book offered. The main character is an early teen boy that learns to be on his own. Boys will be able to relate to this book. My son and I both learned a good amount of the Japanese culture. The book had a surprising ending - which almost makes you want to read the book again.
Perfect condition, and a good read.
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