Fiction

THE GOD BOX (excerpt)

"A kami was inside the box," my grandmother explained.

"God?" I asked.

A pause. "Yes." My grandmother suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"A god," my grandfather barked.

"Yes," my grandmother nodded.

"Does 'Yes' mean that a kami was in the shrine?" I asked.

"No. There was a box inside the shrine," my grandfather said.

"Another box?" I asked.

"Yes," my grandparents answered in unison.

"And those men were carrying a whole shrine just for a box?"

My grandfather couldn't sustain the confusion. "A god—a kami-sama—lives in the box."

"Have you ever looked inside it? I mean, you do live next door to the shrine."

"Yes, we live next door to the shrine," he agreed, grimly.

"Miko-chan," my grandmother interrupted. "Did you enjoy the street fair?"

"Yes," I answered. "It was fun." I poked the center of my grandfather's newspaper. "Have you ever looked? Inside the kami-box?"

"I would never!" my grandfather retorted, and snapped his newspaper upright again. "No one does."

"You mean no one has ever looked at the kami in the box?" I was incredulous.

First published in New Delta Review, Winter 2004, Vol. 21, No. 1