Hunting Kitsune in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

Last night I took my wife, Cherie, and my middle son, Christopher, to a new ramen and sushi bar that opened up only 10 miles away from my home (at least new to me). Kazue Ramen & Sushi Bar is part of the Majestic Theater complex in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

Appealing mostly to the Gettysburg College crowd, for awhile my wife and I were the oldest people in the bar. The restaurant was packed, but the atmosphere was friendly and not overly loud. 

For an appetizer we ordered a Philadelphia roll (smoked salmon with cottage cheese and cucumber) while we awaited our ramen bowls.

The food was excellent. No complaints. According to the reviews I read, the more people in the place means a longer wait for service, but if you avoid the 6 pm crowd, service is reasonable.

And when I say the food was excellent, I mean the food was very good and came in a large bowl that was more than we could eat. If you walk away from Kazue still hungry, you have only yourself to blame.

Now when it comes to restaurants that feature cuisine from the Far East, I am a strict judge, not only of the quality of the food but also the quality of the atmosphere. When I eat at a Japanese or Chinese restaurant, I insist on the whole package. I selfishly demand magic and Kazue fulfilled that to a T: traditional cuisine served in a traditional manner surrounded by a tasteful traditional Japanese setting. One could almost imagine looking out the window onto a busy street in Tokyo.

So this is where the kitsune come in because if there are kitsune in Gettysburg, I know where they go to eat.

Kitsune are yōkai, fox-like creatures from Japanese mythology and the main subject of The Shrine War, my current literary work in progress. Their mythology is vast and complex and differs according to many factors. I myself am fascinated by the tales of kitsune and as I said, if there are any in Gettysburg, they are sure to visit Kazue.

Why? Well, a kitsune's favorite food is aburaage, thinly sliced tofu that is the principle ingredient of
Inarizushi, a pouch of aburaage filled with sushi rice and sometimes sesame seeds. Inarizushi is also known as Inari sushi, so let's take a look at a small part of the Kazue menu.

Ah, yes. There it is. Inari-sushi. Just what the kitsune ordered.

So here is my plan.

I shall someday travel to Kazue and order a double portion of Inari-sushi (fortunately, I find it delicious, but I assure you I am not kitsune...just a human being with discerning tastes).

At some point, mayhaps a pretty young thing will wander into the restaurant and will be drawn inexplicably to my table, suddenly drooling at the inarizushi that so artistically adorns my plate. There is a possibility that her infatuation with her favorite food may cause her to drop her illusion and for the first time in my life I will actually see a kitsune.

However, though a curmudgeonly potato of a man I am not a lecher. I will do nothing but offer her a portion of my inarizushi and let her slip back into the mysteries of the Gettysburg streets. To simply see a kitsune is enough for me, just another impossibility that may someday be crossed off my bucket list. 

Nonetheless, even if one does not appear, I still win. That leaves all the inarizushi for me.

If you ever get a chance to visit Gettysburg, please enjoy its historical importance as a site of a famous Civil War battle, but do yourself a huge favor and drop by 25 Carlisle Street. Just be aware Kazue is closed on Mondays and as they follow the college schedule, it is advisable you call first to confirm they are open. 

And on the way out, don't forget to treat yourself to the traditional bottled Japanese drinks on display. They are all delicious.

And if you order the inarizushi and a young lady with unusual movements that remind you of a fox tries to trick you out of your supper, take her picture and thank your lucky stars.  Fortune has certainly smiled on you.

You lucky devil. 

The Shrine War: Opening Scene

What follows is a rough draft of the opening scene of a story I am currently writing for an anthology for editor Fred Patten. I have never been to Japan and I have never been to a Shinto shrine. I regret I have never met a kitsune and I am rather certain I will go to my grave never having had the pleasure.

But this is the enjoyment of writing fantasy: to communicate exotic pictures to the reader's imagination using only the power of the written word. I do hope I dance close to succeeding. Please remember that this is a rough draft and everything is subject to change.

The Shrine War

by Alan Loewen

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

“Sen-sama? The sisters have gathered in the oratory as you have ordered.” In the dim light before dawn, an observer would have seen the forms of two young women. Each wore the traditional garb of a Shinto shrine maiden: long, red skirts bound with an obi, a white kimono jacket, and white hair ribbons and ivory combs tying back long, waxed hair.

“Well done, Hoso-san. Arigato.” For a moment, they watched the sun rise above the horizon beyond Mount Tomuraushi. As the growing light illuminated the mountain’s summit, what little mid-summer snow remained glowed with a brilliant radiance. On the lower slopes, the small hardy bushes and wildflowers turned the slopes a verdant green.

As the gloom dissipated in the growing warmth of morning, sunlight reflected from the eyes of the two watchers, eyes that were brown and a fitting shade and shape to match the white-furred, fox-like faces of the pair.

“You enjoy watching the sunrise, do you not?” Hoso asked.

Sen remained silent for a moment and Hoso wondered if her superior had heard her, but after a pause, Sen slowly nodded her head. “If the weather allows, I have not missed a sunrise in the five centuries I have been here at the shrine.”

Hoso stared with envy at Sen’s nine tails, one for each century of her life and the greatest number a Kitsune could acquire. For a moment, and not for the first time, Hoso regretted her youth. Only two tails emerged from a cleverly designed slit in the back of her skirt and Hoso had seven more centuries to go before she could enjoy Sen’s status and glory.

Ashamed of her jealousy, Hoso bowed to Sen, her furred hands with their dainty claws sliding down the front of her thighs as she bowed. “We will await you, Sen-sama, but I humbly ask that you not tarry. The Inugami emissary will be here soon.” With that, she turned and left.

Sen watched as the risen sun turned Mount Tomuraushi into a brilliant and shining beacon, and wondered if today would be her last opportunity to revel in the gift of a new day. She turned to see the sun gleaming off the red-tiled roof of the hodon. Surrounded by its protective bamboo wall, the hoden served as the most sacred part of the shrine where Inari's mirror stood in glory and splendor, primal and serene. In front of the hodon, stood the haiden, the public oratory where her sisters waited. All around her, the peace of the shrine lay inviolate, but Sen feared it would not be so for long. An invading force of the Inugami was coming. The emissary only served as a pretense of peace. With a shake of her head, she turned to walk up the tiled sandō to join her sisters.