#5/26: Inokashira Kappa

"Mama!!!!!! no, no, no, no!" the child screamed as it flailed its arms around and stomped its foot on the ground, kicking up a milk tea colored cloud of dust. The sun was shining, the late March weather was fair, and the children had been begging their mothers to bring them to the park all morning. But after finding a reason to complain, this one hadn't shut its mouth. Its mother continued to ignore it, instead chatting with another mother, probably around her same age of thirty something. Attached to the leg of this mother was a more well behaved little one, who just stared shyly at the brat throwing a tantrum. She pulled on her mothers arm, catching the attention of the other mother and bringing her to check their surroundings.  
"Be quiet. You are interrupting the old man's filming", she managed to interject as she took a small pause in her conversation with her friend.

The aforementioned "old man", stood at the slightly inclined bank of the pond with a small video camera attached to a tall tripod. He silently smirked at the young mother and her brat of a child. He had never been good with children, but he had gotten used to them. Inokashira Park was a great place for families to visit on weekends, and while his goal lay in the bird watching, the old man had encountered hundreds of creatures like this one during this past year of developing this hobby. Therefore, he was able to continue with his project relatively undisturbed.

The tantrum continued for a few more minutes until both children were given an ice cream each. One vanilla and one chocolate. The old man, while not an expert in child raising, knew better than to do that and suspected the quiet child's mother of sabotage. A new cloud of dirt, courtesy of the little monster, started drifting over to the old man. With a small, un-audible sigh, he closed his camera, grasped his tripod, and began to make his way towards another spot in the park.

"Hora! Now look what you did!" The monster's mother turned her face to the old man, smiled apologetically, and then shifted back to her child. "Go on, say sorry." The child, ice cream in hand and bashfully staring at the ground it had been pounding, moved its gaze up towards the old man. It was immediately stunned. The old man, with his tattered black brimmed hat and thick grey hair framing his wrinkled face, had contorted his expression into that of a person who had been sucking on an extremely sour lemon; lips puckered, eyebrows scrunched together. Hiding his silly expression from the adults, only the children were exposed to what would eventually bring the monster nightmares, and the quiet one a fit of laughter. In shock, the monster actually dropped the vanilla ice cream it was holding. All hell was about to break loose, but the old man made his way clear of that situation and disappeared from sight.

Most days, the old man was left alone to his filming of the pond and its birds. One day, in May, the rain was pouring harder and colder than it had since the late Autumn. Certainly strange for that time of the year. But just as it seemed the rain would never stop, the sun breached its way through the thick clouds, opening up the skies to its graceful rays. The brightness grew stronger and stronger, gently reflecting on all the wet surfaces. The rain water that had collected in puddles and had been streaming along crevices and gutters, quickly evaporated, erasing most signs of the inconvenient weather. Folding up his umbrella and stuffing it into his back pack, the old man adjusted the focus of his lens to the new intensity of sunlight.  As the sun began to break, a large crowd of university kids poured into the park, rowdily yelling to each other until two police officers appeared nearby. They spoke to them for a few moments, after which the group moved on to a more inconspicuous part of the park. The officers then began to eye the old man. From his left, he had managed to figure out what had been going on, but he had just found a Japanese pygmy woodpecker, one of his favorite species, who had come out from hiding during the storm. Its brown and white flight feathers pleased him and he had made a habit of compiling hours of footage of this one bird.

"Old man, excuse me. Can we ask you a few questions?" Suddenly, the two police officers had approached him. He silently scoffed as their appearances were that of caricatures. One was tall and thin, the other short and fat. Typical police stock, complete with overbearing attitudes and contempt for others.
"You may." The old man continued to focus his attention on readjusting his camera in order to get the best shot of the pygmy woodpecker.
"Why are you out here in such terrible weather? Do you come here a lot?" The thin one did the questioning.
"I like to watch the pond during storms." the old man replied after a moment. "And the weather is fine now."
"Just filming? A little strange, don't you think?"
"Someone your age is going to catch a cold." The fat one spoke up.
"It's a hobby." he replied flatly.
"I see. Not interested in other activities? Like sudoku or mahjong?" Both officers laughed. 
"No. I like nature." The fat officer stopped laughing and was noticeably put off by the old man's curt responses and cold attitude. 
"Well, you haven't seen anything suspicious go on around here, have you? We've gotten reports of some perverts snooping around the park." The thin officer pointed out the camera to the fat officer. A brief pause followed as the officers silently communicated their plan to each other.
"Would you mind if we take a look at your camera?" The officers moved closer to the old man.
"Yes, I would mind." The old man turned to face the officers, providing a very stern expression. He was not pleased with this invasion of privacy. "As you can see, besides that group of students you just talked to, no one else has been here."
"Sir, we are going to have to ask you to cooperate." The officers ignored him and moved in closer. The old man gave no response, but as he was balancing himself between the bank of the pond and a large rock, he had no where to go. "Suzuki-san, take the camera." With a strong grip, the fat Suzuki-san seized the camera from the old man. The old man, finding some determination, attempted to take it it back, but as Suzuki-san had much more weight on his side, he simply shook the old man off, causing him to trip and step back, missing the big rock, and submerging his feet in the mud of the pond.
"Ara, ara. You had better get out of there. You might catch some leaches." The thin officer took out a thin piece of paper from his shoulder pouch. "Please fill out this form, correctly, so we can contact you after we have confirmed what is on here."

That summer, the old man continued his observations of the pond, just without his camera. Instead, he had gotten his hands on a pair of binoculars. He could no longer collect his digital footage, but he was happy as long as there were at least animals to look at. The police still came to harass him now and then, but he had learned to shrug them off. Bird watching isn't a crime, so there wasn't much they could do, except continue to hold his camera with the claim that they were still inspecting it. Fortunately, as the weather got wetter and hotter, the number of people coming to the park gradually decreased. The old man could enjoy his time more peacefully. Well, almost. In summer, most of the water fowl fly north to the cooler climates. Therefore, he switched his attention to the pigeons and his position to the park benches. Everyday, he brought a small plastic container containing seeds and small biscuits. The pigeons, and sometimes small sparrows, came flying over to the old man and pecked at the seeds he spread on the ground. 

Even though these seeds and biscuits were specialty food for wild birds, he still received claims from so-called environmentalists. His favorite though, a college student of about 21 named Ayumi-chan, frequently came to lecture him about the dangers these birds faced, how he was harming their ecosystem, and even brought him pamphlets from her university environment club. Rather than being annoyed by Ayumi-chan's persistence, he actually enjoyed her nagging. Words, she soon realized, really help in communicating with others, as he explained to her that he had put thought into what he was feeding the birds. This had shut her up for a while, but she continued to come to the park after her classes a few times a week. They enjoyed conversations about nature at first, and then her struggles with school and job hunting. 
"Ayumi-chan, next time bring me some more of that sweet ball tea stuff." 
"You mean bubble tea?" She laughed. "Yeah sure! I'll add some lychee next time!"
"Eh? What kind of eco food is that? Don't be putting insects in my drinks!" he called after.
"Hai, hai! See you Monday!" she waved back to him.

On Monday, Ayumi-chan came to the park, accompanied by two other university students. She waved to the old man when he came into sight, but her friends seemed uneasy. After a few moments, she came over alone, and sat next to him. Silence persisted for about a minute.
"Are you going to use your words?" the old man teased.
"No." Ayumi-chan pouted.
"Well, I guess I won't be sharing these daifuku I brought"
"Daifuku? In August? Oh, you really are oblivious."
"What?" He muttered with a mouthful of mochi and anko.
"Listen.. Did you know that some of the kids who come here think you are a kappa?" She finally turned her gaze to him.
"But I am. Didn't you know this hat is covering my bowl?"
"Seriously though. And.. well there are others that suspect you of being a ghost, or more realistically, senile. Some even say a pervert.."
"I think I am happy with just being me." He wiped daifuku power from the corners of his lips and then proceeded to force Ayumi-chan to take the other one he had brought. "Trust me, they are eco-friendly."

That late Summer and early Autumn saw several typhoons. Ayumi-chan continued to check in on the old man, even during her summer vacation. She had never asked directly, but he was obviously quite advanced in age. While he appeared to have no problems, being able to stand straight for hours at a time with no cane or other support, she still worried for his well being. He insisted that as long as he was able to walk to the park from his home, she had nothing to worry about. That October, a strong typhoon hit the Kanto area directly. Her hometown, close to Hakone, was impacted heavily by flooding, and so she took a week off from school to help at her family's home. The water had caused damage to their garden and there were fears of landslides, but for the most part, their home was okay.  

When she finally made her way back to Inokashira Park, she was happy to see that it had managed to escape remarkable damage by the storm. As she approached the pond, the first thing she noticed, though, was a group of elementary school children stacking cucumbers by the bridge. 
"What are you doing?" she asked. She recognized a couple of them.
"They are for the kappa!" 
"The kappa? Well I am sure he will be pleased that you brought him his favorite food." Ayumi-chan smiled at the children.
"We hope that he'll come back." one child said sadly.
"My dad said that he was probably washed downstream." another remarked in a matter-of-fact manner. Ayumi-chan could no longer humor them. 
"Why would you say that?" she asked sternly.
"Don't you know where he is? Aren't you his girlllllfriennnddd?" the child with a habit of stomping dirt spoke up. The other children laughed. 

Ayumi sighed. "Ok, give me these cucumbers. I'll make sure the kappa receives them." She proceeded to collect the cucumbers and walked to one of the benches frequented by the old man. The pigeons, who had come to recognize her, began approaching. She sat in silence, looking out at the pond for several moments. Then, without thinking, she grasped a cucumber, snapped it into several small pieces, and began feeding it to the pigeons. They pecked at the fresh gourd with a violent ferocity.