Japanese Prints

Isaku is a nine-year-old boy living in a remote fishing village on the coast of Japan. To survive, his people distill salt to sell to neighboring villages. But this industry serves a more sinister purpose as well: the fires of the salt caldrons lure passing ships onto rocky shoals. When a ship runs aground, the villagers slaughter the crew and loot its cargo for rice, wine, and other goods. One day a ship founders onto the rocks - but Isaku learns that its cargo is far deadlier than ever could be imagined. Shipwrecks is a stunningly powerful Gothic tale of the mysteries and horrors of fate.

“The ship’s captain was an honest man; it was unthinkable that he would have made off in the ship in order to steal the cargo. Either it had been blown far out to sea, where it sank, or it had been smashed to pieces on the coast.
If the ship had been wrecked along the coast, it should be possible to retrieve part of the cargo. Because they assumed that their search should be limited to the western coastline, this was where the shipping agency had dispatched their men.
The timing of this ship’s disappearance more or less matched the appearance of O~fune~sama, but since the vessel that rode up on the reef in front of the village had a capacity of around three hundred bales, it was clear that these men were searching for a different ship. Of course, even if the ships were different, the fact that these men were looking for a missing ship put the village in terrible jeopardy.
Isaku and the others looked anxious as they jostled their way into the dirt floor area and stared at the village chief’s face.
The chief moved back to the fireplace and talked quietly with the more senior members of the community. There was still evidence in the village of all sorts of things brought to them by O~fune~sama. While the ship’s timber had been carried away into the forest, the rice and other commodities from the cargo had been distributed among the families. If these men had someone guide them to the village and took a look inside the houses, they would find things that people of their station in life would not normally have, and would become suspicious. No doubt they would judge that the villagers had indeed plundered cargo from a wrecked ship.
The bailiffs would come to arrest the villagers and subject them to harsh interrogation. In the course of such questioning, the village’s age-old practice of luring O~fune-sama would be revealed. If this came to pass, the village chief and many others, including women and children, would be doomed to a ghastly end. The village would cease to exist. The fact that the men from the shipping agency had come as far as the next village, and had gone out of their way to question those selling salt, was sure proof that their village was one of the areas where they presumed the ship might have run aground.
All of the men in council with the village chief had turned a shade of gray; some were using both hands to stop their knees from shaking violently. Isaku himself suddenly started to tremble.
The slightly built village chief uttered something to the elder, who nodded, got to his feet, and walked over to the assembled villagers.
“Listen carefully. We’re going to hide every last thing up in the mountains. Everything O-fune~sama bestowed upon us. You’ll build huts up there to store the things in, but first of all we must get everything into the forest. The huts’ll be built afterward,” said the old man in a hollow voice.
The villagers bowed, stood up, and scurried to their houses.
Isaku watched his mother wearily get to her feet, and he followed behind her as she shuffled along, supporting herself on her stick. When he thought of his mother’s gashed shoulders and feet, and how she had doggedly carried all those bales of rice, he felt miserable about his own lack of strength.
When his mother stepped inside their house, she stooped over one of the bales of rice stacked on the dirt floor and lifted it onto her shoulder. The heavy weight was obviously a struggle for her as she staggered out the back door.