My big birthday gift several days back was an all-day tour of the haunted spots of Tokyo. The trip included stories told by a wonderful lady rakugo performer, lunch, and all the Japanese history one could want.

It was while taking a turn on the old Edo execution grounds in Asakusa that I saw a stone monument that had been reduced to the size of a half-eaten loaf of bread. The guide informed us that this unusual head stone was that of Nezumi Kozo (literally “Rat Boy”), Japan’s own answer to Robin Hood. The poor shape of the monument was due to its being chipped away by Rat Boy’s fans, who believed that pieces of the stone were potent amulets for the attraction of money. A flower or two in a glass sat before the stone–an unusual sight at this grim place of head-choppings, crucifixions and eviscerations, where the last sight that met the eyes of the condemned was that of the “Kubikiri Jizo” (”Chop-Neck” Jizo), a huge seated statue of the traditional Buddhist guide of little children and the lost. Needless to say, he’s still there, looking over the scene with his half-closed, stone eyes–the same eyes that watched rogue samurai, thieves, murderers, and in this case, a genuine folk hero, find an abrupt exit from this troubled life.

I asked my wife if she knew the story of Rat Boy and she told me that every Japanese knew about this gentleman through folk songs, kabuki plays, movies, television and manga.

His real name was Jirokichi and he was a common laborer during the day. Some say that he earned his sobriquet because of his small stature and homely looks, but others say that he carried a bag of trained rats with him when he went about his night job. He would break in through the roof of some well-heeled samurai’s establishment, open up his pack of rats and make them scurry about–effectively disguising the bumps and scrapes incumbent upon his acts of thievery. And what a thief he was! Before he was made to bow before the Chop-Neck Jizo in 1832, he confessed to the burglary of over 100 samurai homes and the theft of over 30,000 ryo–an immense fortune for the time. His exploits were followed by the numerous poor of Japan, and though he may not have been as generous with his money as the old stories say, he stood as someone who bucked the oppression of Feudal Japan and got away with it–at least for 15 years. I thought immediately of Woody Guthrie’s glorification of Pretty Boy Floyd, the hero of Depression-era, back-woods America and I shook my head yes.

Jirokichi was 36 when he died: like Pretty Boy Floyd both met their fates early. “”Hajimemashite” (nice to meet you) I said to the stone, and everyone laughed at this henna gaijin. But it really was.