They selected a relatively flat spot, on the mountain side of the path through the grandstands that circled the lake, and set to work. Once the con- ference was over they'd wait until the ground at the bottom of the holes had absorbed all the liquid before filling them in. The holes the motorized shov- els scooped out were deeper than Ogi had imagined. Once they'd decided on the locations and work had begun, Ogi was left with little to do. As the shovels continued their loud clang, he walked down the path from east to north, to the point closest to the island with the giant cypress in the middle of the lake.
The branches of the giant cypress had been trimmed back to a height of about twenty feet. The lopped-off larger branches and the smaller ones with green still on them were piled up on a two-tiered wooden frame surround- ing the trunk-the middle of both the upper and lower tiers left empty for the dolls to be added-and leaned up against the lower tier. Along with the stack of firewood in the island meadow, this was enough to make a spectacu- lar firestorm.
The entire structure was like some sturdy square building. Even if kero- sene was poured on and lighted, it wouldn't collapse to one side but would end up a huge bonfire, safe for all spectators to enjoy.
Another wooden frame was set up apart from the one around the cypress but of the same height, made up of two or three logs with speakers set on top.
Beside it lay a sturdy bamboo ladder, the kind used by lumberjacks, to be used later to place the dolls that were going to be burned on top of the wooden frame.
Sensing someone behind him, Ogi turned around to find Gii, his sun- tanned face looking much older now, leaning against the tiny light-green leaves of a maple and watching him. Gii said, unhurriedly, "Yonah's going around this morning, talking to everyone to make sure everything's set for the evening meeting. He'd like you to go with him; he's already settled the matter with Dancer."
"Right this moment?" Ogi asked.
"My truck is in the little park beyond the parking lot."
They turned back to the east shore, greeting the young workmen they passed, and walked down the aisle, a little shoddily laid out, below the chapel and the monastery. Unconcerned about all the trampled-down spots on the path's shoulders, Gii strode on.
"Where did he say we're going to talk?" Ogi asked.
"We'll be meeting the first group, representatives of the Quiet Women, in the hills. After the party last night, some of their friends stayed at the mon- astery, and we can't very well make them leave so early in the morning. The women will drive over in Yonah's car."
"You drove over here, right? So I'll drive from here. The prefectura! police haven't shown up yet, have they?"
"They don't view the church as dangerous enough to warrant sending the riot police here this early."
As Gii had said, there weren't any other cars at the little park. Despite Ogi's insistence, though, he didn't make any move to hand over the keys. Ogi caught a glimpse of a doll wrapped in cloth bags in the loaded truck bed.
"I'd heard about these dolls, but the ones used in the Spirit Procession are really big, aren't they?" Ogi asked.
"The one in back was made to Patron's special order; Mayumi had to stay up all night to do it. It's the Spirit of Guide. She said it wasn't so hard since she'd already made one, though the larger size did cause her a little trouble."
They drove down the Shikoku highway bypass, down to where the older district road leveled out, and crossed the bridge over the Kame River, the water sparkling below.
"We're going to drive up to a piece of worthless meadow my mother inherited," Gii explained, "at the intersection of two logging roads. One road goes up past the entrance to the Farm; the one we're going to climb goes past the junior high."
As the truck turned the corner and entered the glen, a woman teacher from the junior high, out sweeping the decorative shrubbery in front of the school, looked up in surprise at Gii, driving without a license. For his part, Gii remained totally cool and collected.
He parked the truck at the base of a red pine tree, branches trimmed back to quite high up, the greenery near the top shining in the brilliant sky.
A red Ford Mustang was parked in front of a clearing leading to another log- ging road. As Ogi stepped down the narrow path down the short slope, clutch- ing at branches to steady himself, Gii said to him, "Better not touch the wax trees. He Who Destroys planted wax trees from here up to the ridge to use as raw material for the Fireflies' candles. Do you suppose he really planted them so he could pour hot oil over his enemies?"
At an unexpectedly steep slope where they could look down at the vil- lages and the river in the bottom of the valley, there was a square meadow jutting out like a stage. Ikuo was standing there, talking with three of the Quiet Women.
To the left below them was a sparse stand of red pines, a path cutting through it that went down to where they could see-through a large bam- boo grove just before the path went uphill again-half of the lake in the Hollow and the Plexiglas skylights on the roof of the chapel reflecting the sun- light. In the midst of this wonderfully placid scenery, the bypass to the cross- Shikoku highway cut through a mountain one hill over. The whole scene was so bucolic it made Ogi want to tell Gii that he understood the feelings of the Fireflies, ready to fight to defend the legends of their land.
Before he could say anything, though, Ikuo saw the two of them approach and abruptly waved Gii off.
"Go guard the car," he told him abruptly. "The key's in it, so if a truck comes and wants to pass, move it so he can!"
Ikuo led Ogi and the three women over to an old tree in the west cor- ner of the meadow, bursting with dark green berries hanging down on long stems. There was a place constructed out of thick logs where they could sit.
Ogi found Mrs. Shigeno and Ms. Takada, whom he hadn't seen in a while, full of the same sense of incongruity he'd felt yesterday morning in Ms. Oyama, who rounded out the threesome. Their skin was equally pale and lusterless, but what was even more noticeable was the clumsy, amateurish way the Quiet Women had done up their hair. The hair behind their ears and at the napes of their necks was newly shorn. What's more, a dark, solemn shadow had fallen over their expressions.
As the three sat side by side on the log seat, with the river on their right, Mrs. Shigeno, at the end, looked up at the small orange-red berries on the branch above her and said, "Whenever I see this many berries it always makes me think of when the Chinese matrimony-vine wine we used to make was ready to drink. But that doesn't move me anymore. My interest in trees and plants is entirely practical."
Ogi was the only one who responded to this by gazing up at the thin stalks of the matrimony vine and its bell-like berries. He realized that her statement was merely a prelude leading up to the main theme of their talk.
"Ogi is helping Professor Kizu write a history of Patron's church, and I want him to witness all the decisions that are made and the events that take place," Ikuo said, as if making sure the Quiet Women understood. "I'll be talking with the Technicians next, and he'll be accompanying me there as well… Ogi, I'd like you to remember that the Quiet Women were follow- ers of Patron years before we first came across him. As junior members, then, you and I have to do whatever we can to help them, no matter what they ask of us. They're not looking for our input, and it would be out of line to object to anything they say. Okay, this being said, we'd like to hear what sort of program the Quiet Women propose."