children teasing a tortoise but, say, a group of rowdy fishermen tormenting some sickly beggar. Would you have offered so much as a single copper? Hardly. You would have scowled and hurried past, not wanting to get involved. Gentlemen like you despise having your faces rubbed in raw reality. I guess it makes you feel as if your lofty destiny is being dragged through the gutter.
“Kindness, for people like you, is nothing more than a minor diversion. A little titillation. You rescued me because I’m a tortoise. You put up money because they were children. But a sickly beggar and rowdy fishermen? That would be another story altogether. To have the smelly wind of real life blowing in your face would be more than you could bear. That’s what we call being a snob, Urashima-san.
“Hey, you’re not angry, are you? I love you, after all-or don’t you want to hear that? It’s a delicate situation. You people with lofty destinies seem to think it’s a disgrace to be admired even by people of lowly birth, let alone a
“You won’t find people disturbing the peace by criticizing one another down there. Life in the Dragon Palace is gentle, leisurely, live-and-let-live. The place is built for enjoyment. Me, I can live on land or under the sea, so I’ve had a chance to compare the two, and I’ll tell you, life up here is too full of stress. Everyone’s forever criticizing everyone else. When someone opens his mouth on land it’s either to say something nasty about others or to praise himself. It gets tiresome fast. But I’ve been up on land like this so many times that I too have become tainted. I’ve learned to engage in the same sort of snobbish one-upsmanship that’s so popular here. It’s bad, I know, but there’s something habit-forming about finding fault with others, and now life in the Dragon Palace sometimes seems dull to me. Civilization is a real monkey on my back, I’ll tell you. I no longer know if I’m a creature of the sea or the land. I’m somewhere in between, I guess, like the bat-is it a bird or a beast?-and it’s getting harder and harder for me to stay put in my own home. This much I can guarantee you, though: the Dragon Palace is the ultimate place to relax and have fun in. Trust me. It’s a world of singing, dancing, delectable food, and wonderful wine. Perfect for a discriminating man like yourself. After all, aren’t you the one who was just complaining about criticism? It doesn’t exist in the Dragon Palace.”
The tortoise’s rather astounding garrulity is such that Urashima has given up even trying to interject a response, but these last few words pierce his heart.
“Ah,” he sighs, “if only there really were such a place!”
The tortoise glares at him.
“You still doubt what I’m saying? I’m not lying to you, damn it! Now you’ve made me angry. Is this what all you refined gentlemen are like-wishing and pining and never acting? You make me sick.”
Not even the meek and mild Urashima can back down from a challenge as pointed, and as barbed, as this.
“Very well!” he says with another wry smile. “Just as you wish. I’ll climb on your back and see what happens.”
But the tortoise is genuinely irate.
“The way you put things really rubs me the wrong way, you know that? What do you mean, ‘and see what happens’? To climb on my back and to climb on my back
“All right! I’m climbing on your back because I believe you.”
“Now you’re talking!”
As Urashima seats himself on the tortoise’s shell it settles and expands, until it’s almost wider than he can reach across. The tortoise pushes off into the waves, rocking gently from side to side. They are perhaps two stones’ throw from shore when he issues a terse command.
“Close your eyes.”
Urashima obediently complies and in the next moment hears a sound like a sudden shower and feels something like a warm spring breeze, only heavier, tickling his earlobes.
“Depth: one thousand fathoms,” the tortoise announces.
Urashima experiences a slight nausea.
“Is it all right if I have to throw up?” he says, his eyes still clamped shut.
“What? You’re going to puke?” The tortoise reverts to a coarser tone of voice as he turns his head to look back. “What a revolting- My word! You’ve still got your eyes closed, like a good little boy! That’s what I love about you, young master. You may open your eyes now. Drink in the scenery and you’ll stop feeling queasy in no time.”
He opens his eyes to a vast, hazy expanse lit with an ethereal pale green glow that casts no shadows.
“So this… is the Dragon Palace,” he whispers dreamily.
“Snap out of it. We’ve only descended a thousand fathoms. The Dragon Palace is ten thousand fathoms under the sea.”
“Sheee!” Urashima’s voice is a squeak. “The sea’s deep, isn’t it?”
“You were raised near the sea, for heaven’s sake. You sound like some ape from the mountains. Yeah, it’s deep. It’s not to be compared to the pond in your garden.”
Ahead, behind, left, right-whichever direction Urashima looks, there is only that seemingly boundless, hazy expanse. Below him too he can see nothing but the pale green glow, and when he looks up he sees not the blue sky but an immeasurable dome of watery emerald light. Aside from their own voices, not a sound can be heard. There is only that sensation of wind, like a viscous spring breeze, blowing in his face and tickling his ears.
He finally spots something far in the distance, above and to the right-a tiny, faint, speckled something, like a handful of scattered ashes.
“What’s that? A cloud?”
“You’re joking, right?” says the tortoise. “There aren’t any clouds in the ocean.”
“What is it, then? It looks like a splash of India ink. Just dirt or something?”
“You’re really showing your ignorance, you know that? It’s a school of sea bream.”
“Really? It looks so small from here. How many would you say there are? Two or three hundred, maybe?”
The tortoise laughs derisively. “Are you serious?”
“More, then? What, two or three thousand?”
“Get a grip on yourself, man. There are a good five or six million fish in that school.”
“Five or six million? Are you joking?”
“I am, yes,” the tortoise says, and grins. “It’s not a school of sea bream. It’s a sea fire. Awful lot of smoke, though. To make that much smoke, they must be burning an area about twenty times the size of Japan.”
“Please. Fire can’t burn underwater.”
“Think before you speak, young master. Water contains oxygen, doesn’t it? Where there’s oxygen, there’s no reason you can’t have fire.”
“Nonsense. I’m not going to fall for such half-witted sophistry. All jokes aside-what in the world is it? That little smudge up there. Is it a school of fish after all? It certainly isn’t fire.”
“I’m telling you, it’s a fire. Haven’t you ever wondered why the sea never overflows, in spite of the fact that all the rivers in the world empty into it constantly, day and night? If you look at it from the sea’s point of view, it’s quite a dilemma. It’s not easy to manage all that surplus water rushing in. That’s why we have to start these fires, to dispose of the water we don’t need. Just look at it burn!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why isn’t the smoke spreading, then? What is it really? It hasn’t moved at all since I’ve been watching, so it’s not likely to be a school of fish either. Stop your teasing and tell me what it is. Please?”
“All right, all right. It’s the shadow of the moon.”
“You’re pulling my leg again.”
