Excerpt from S’s files—About the Stone 4:
Man: Hello.
Woman: …Hello.
Man: I’m a reporter researching the local geography for a report on . Can I give you my business card?
Woman: …Sure… Oh, I think I’ve heard of this publisher. The address is in Tokyo. Why are you all the way out here?
Man: I’m planning on writing a book. May I ask you some questions? We can just talk like this.
Woman: Okay, sure.
Man: Thank you. There’s a shrine on that mountain over there. Has it been there for a long time?
Woman: Oh yes. I think it’s pretty old. A priest used to live there, but he passed away a couple of decades ago, and it’s been empty ever since. They used to have a summer festival with food stalls and everything when I was young. But that was almost fifty years ago. I haven’t been there since I was in school. I’m Buddhist, anyway.
Man: Did they have any other festivals besides the summer one?
Woman: What? Well, let’s see. Oh, I think they used to do something in early May for Children’s Day, too.
Man: I see. Do you know what kind of god was enshrined there?
Woman: Oh, what was it…? I think it was a god to ward off evil spirits, but I don’t remember all that well. Sorry.
Man: …It’s okay. Do you know if that god has any connection to a stone?
Woman: A stone? Oh, you mean Mashira-sama? I know that one. It’s not the god of the shrine, though. That one is in a smaller hokora on the shrine grounds.
Man: Really? The stone was in the empty hokora? And it was called Mashira-sama?
Woman: What do you mean, empty? Mashira-sama’s stone should still be there.
Man: I didn’t see a stone. There were a lot of dolls, though…
Woman: Impossible. The stone has to be there.
Man: Somebody might have taken it.
Woman: Who would do something as immoral as that?
Man: Do you have any idea who might want to take it?
Woman: I don’t know… Oh, what about them? That group was always doing strange things. Everyone always gossiped about them because they kept wandering around the mountain.
Man: What group is that?
Woman: A long time ago, someone built a facility near the mountain for some sort of religious group. Apparently, some strange people did lots of weird things up there.
Man: Are they still there now?
Woman: They’re long gone. The buildings were repurposed for a corporate retreat, but they’re abandoned now.
Man: Would you mind telling me a little more about this religion?
Woman: Oh, I don’t know anything about it. They were really peculiar, so everyone in town left them alone. No one around here would know anything.
Man: …I see. Do you remember what they were called?
Woman: Oh, that was decades ago… It was an odd name… Something Space or Space Something, I think. I don’t really remember.
Man: Thank you. I’ll see what I can find out. By the way, can I ask you about the Mashira-sama enshrined in the hokora?
Woman: Sure, but you certainly ask about some strange things. I heard the story when I was just a girl… Mashira-sama is a monkey god.
Man: A…monkey?
Woman: That’s right. A big white monkey. When we were little, our parents would scare us by saying that Mashira-sama would kidnap us to make us his bride if we wandered around at night. Some of the older people who really believed in him would go up there and leave persimmons as offerings when they were in season.
Man: Persimmons?
Woman: Yes, the fruit. You know them, right? Apparently, monkeys love them.
Man: Were persimmons the only thing people offered?
Woman: Oh, that’s right, they left something else, too. Dolls. Old women would leave handmade dolls. There’s a big staircase leading up to the shrine, right? It was probably good exercise for them.
Man: I see… Dolls.
Woman: They relocated a lot of people out of the area when they built the highway near the dam, and that decimated the population. There used to be lots of houses around, but hardly anyone lives here anymore. So no one remembers Mashira-sama.
Man: Have you ever seen this Mashira-sama?
Woman: Oh, you foolish little boy. Have you ever seen the Buddha? Mashira-sama is just a myth.
Man: No, I meant Mashira-sama’s stone.
Woman: Oh, that. Yes, when I was little. It’s a craggy black stone that’s almost big enough to be a small boulder. I remember asking my mother why it wasn’t shaped like a monkey.
Man: What did she say?
Woman: Something like… Oh, well, you know. I don’t think she really knew. You’re really curious about Mashira-sama, aren’t you? My mother has passed on, but my father is still around. He’s in the house now. Would you like to talk with him?
Man: Really? Yes, I’d love to.