My Mother is a Nine-Tailed Fox

There have been various stories of the nine-tailed fox throughout history. Portrayed as tricksters, these creatures are believed to mislead, possess or even steal human energy to feed their own innate immortality. Although the stories vary based on their origin, the myth of the nine-tailed fox almost always features a theme of exploiting or deceiving humankind by disguising themselves as beautiful women. I have only researched enough on the topic to answer the questions that have plagued me since I was young, because you see, I had always known that my family was a little bit different. My mother had never tried to hide it from me either, as she is one of these creatures.

Years ago, I had asked my mother if these stories were true, to which she would laugh and respond “my dear Evie, what a clever imagination you have.” She had this way about her, she could reassure me with a glance. I adored hearing her laugh, it was the most pleasant sound. As a child I would often wrap myself up between my mother’s tails like they were blankets and fall asleep enveloped in their warmth. As the myths claimed, she had nine of them, each one gained by 100 years of wisdom, or so she would whisper to me. When she curled her tails around me I felt like I was laying amongst the clouds, they were fluffy pillows and comforting cloaks at the same time. In those days I believed that my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. She carried herself with a certain regal grace that I could never dream to emulate. Although I had inherited my mother’s beauty, I was notoriously inelegant. A trait that my mother claimed had been inherited from my father’s side of the family. 

She and my father were madly in love, and she would often tell me the story of how they had met. The story would change each time she repeated it, like she was imagining it the way she would have liked it to have happened. One day I piped up, “But mom, didn’t you meet him in a bookshop last time?”

She smiled down at me mischievously before she answered, “well, yes I did Evelyn. I met your father a number of different times, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with him at first sight each time.” She ran her fingers through my hair as her eyes welled up with tears. In that moment, she looked gloomily wistful, like she was remembering things that she had long forgotten. I often wondered what it must cost her to hide part of herself from the world.

My father didn’t seem to want to talk about my mother’s secret when I tried to broach the topic, but as I grew older it became more difficult to not bring it up. I inherited certain traits from her that separated me from others my age. I was at school the first time “it” happened. I say it because I didn’t really understand what “it” really was, or what it meant for me.

***

“Evelyn,” my mom called out from the living room. “I think it is time that I told you about how I met your father.” She was perched atop the sofa as if she were a swan gliding through the water. Even in the comfort of her own home, she remained alert.

“You have told me so many times already,” I rolled my eyes, remembering the different recollections that she had told me as a child. “Well, I think you did.”

She nodded, the hint of a smile on her lips. “Yes I did, and all the stories were true….in their own ways.” She paused for a second, gathering her thoughts. “I have met your father many times. I tried to stay away from him, but each time I chose to return, determined to have him fall in love with me all over again.”

I found myself gawking at her while she avoided meeting my eyes. In my whole life, I had never seen my mother act this way…like a cornered animal. “Tell me,” I breathed.

She made sure that I met her gaze before she began, “Kitsunes have the ability to alter the perception of human reality, and well…that’s what I did with your father…six times.”

I remained silent, waiting for her to continue. When no reaction came, she stared down at her hands, clasping and unclasping them until I finally blurted out, “Does he know?”

She shook her head mournfully. “I tried to tell him numerous times, but each time he believed that it was just an idealistic story that I made up.” She took my hand in hers, “Evie, there is no arguing with human perception. It is the strongest belief on this earth.”

“Why did you do it?” I asked, retrieving my hand back from between hers.

“I would like to say that it is simply in my nature to mislead humans, but I’ll admit that I was scared. At the time, I was terrified of what would happen if he ever found out what I had done. What I was…” she admitted, meeting my eyes once more. 

“But he did eventually,” I retorted. My father had been there when I’d been curled up among her tails as a child, when she had told me the many stories that I hoped would never end. He had seen her as clear as I had. Hadn’t he?

My mother winced, answering the question that I hadn’t dared to ask. She slowly averted her eyes, “No, he doesn’t know. Your father…I make him see me differently.”

I sat there dumbfounded as she peered around the room, seeming to listen for the sound of anyone else in the house. She always had a keen sense of sound, an ability that I supposed was a result of her fox-like instincts. “How?” I posed.

She sighed before answering, “Evelyn, it’s an illusion. I can create what I want people to see.”

***

“The first time I met your father I appeared to him in my true form.” She gazed across the room as she became lost in her own memory. “Lake Arien was my favorite place to hunt in those days. It was deep in the woods, and had water as blue and gleaming as a sapphire. I often looked at my reflection in the water and studied how best to disguise myself. See, this was before I had taken on a chosen form,” she pointed at herself. “This body…well, it’s not exactly mine.”

“As my truest form I saw your father for the first time. He was wading through the shallow water at the opposite end of the lake. His hair had grown long around his face, shielding his eyes from view. As he swam out towards the center of the clearing, I thought he was the most endearing human that I had ever seen. I wished that I had the courage to reveal myself and join him in the water. I imagined that he would see me and that we would understand each other immediately.”

“However…I was too enraptured to notice that he had already spotted me there on the other side of the lake. He called out to me, ‘beautiful fox, why do you hide from me?’ I was shocked that he had stayed there, unwavering, once he had espied that an animal was watching him. I emerged out of the reeds, my paws digging into the muddy earth beneath. He stood perfectly still while I approached.” My mother stopped narrating to glance at me, as if that was the end of the story. 

I was curious to hear the rest, but I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with her description. This was a story that I hadn’t heard before. “What did you mean your body isn’t exactly yours?”

She laughed, “I knew you would wonder about that.” She shifted in her seat before she continued, “I had fallen for that man at first sight. I knew that I had to be human in order for him to feel the same way that I did. More importantly, I needed to be beautiful. By the time we encountered each other next, I had chosen a woman that I could successfully transform into. She was from the next city over and I didn’t know much about her, though I suppose that I should have made the effort to learn who I have been impersonating for all these years.”

My mother seemed almost regretful at that moment. I couldn’t help but appraise her, sitting across from her own daughter and baring her soul after all these years. I had thought of her as this angelic figure, a goal of womanhood to try to emulate in the future. I was at a loss for words, but I could not bear it if she ended the story here. I desperately wanted to hear more.

“The next time I saw your father, I was in the form that you see now,” she gestured to her body. “I knew that he visited the same bookshop every Sunday afternoon, and one weekend I worked up the courage and decided to follow him. I observed him between the stacks. Fortunately, he was taller than I was and had not yet spotted me. When he got to the end of the row, I grabbed the heaviest book I could find, so as to appear enraptured by the tome. When he turned the corner he was still glancing at the shelves. I cringed, thinking that he would pass by, unaware of my presence.”

“But he saw you?” I interjected.

“He did see me, and when I met his eyes I could feel him making some kind of connection. He knew that we had met before but I prayed that he didn’t know where. It was then that I realized that I could alter his perception of the encounter simply by willing it to be so. If I wanted something enough, it became the very way I imagined. So I created the illusion that I had been so surprised by his abrupt appearance that I dropped my book as a result. I knew that he would just conclude that he had bent down to retrieve it. As we imagined this simultaneously, our hands met, and a spark of electricity ran through us.”

“In other words, he was hooked,” I joked, trying to cheer her up. While relaying the story, she had gotten a wistful look, as if it was breaking her heart to confess her deepest indiscretions to her daughter.

“You might say that, yes,” she smiled. “But I couldn’t bear to trick him this way. Before he left that day, I made him forget the whole encounter. I made it so that he had perceived that he had just made an uneventful trip to the book shop, just like every other Sunday.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I wondered if the shame of misleading my father had become too much for her to bear. It was evident that she felt guilty, but I could not discern the reason.

“Evelyn, as my daughter you must realize that you have some of the same abilities that I do. I know what happened to you today. Don’t forget that your mother is a wise kitsune,” she smirked as she said this last part. My mouth must have hung open for what seemed like hours, I could not believe that she had found out what had happened.

I didn’t even know how to explain what I had done earlier today. I stared at her in shock, waiting for an explanation. “I-I don’t know,” I muttered, trying to formulate a coherent thought.

“You like that boy, don’t you? The one from school.”

“No…no I don’t,” I blushed profusely.

“Evelyn. Don’t lie to a fox,” she frowned, then grinned at me as I blushed to a further shade of crimson. “You tricked him, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t even know what was happening.” My hand went to my mouth as I admitted it, trying to hold in the rest of my admission. Unsurprisingly it didn’t help, “I tricked him into believing that he liked me. I just couldn’t help it.”

“And it worked,” she snickered.

“For a while,” I mumbled, blushing again. “But then he said that he already had a girlfriend.”

Her eyes sparkled at this, and suddenly a mischievous glint appeared. “Evie, if I had let that stop me, you wouldn’t be here. Your father had a girlfriend at the time that we met too.”

“What did you do?” I questioned, praying that she would tell me an answer that would work in my case as well.

A smug grin appeared on her lips at my eager reaction. She contemplated her answer for a few seconds before stating, “Well darling, I simply became her.”