by Park Moon
“Can he hear you at all?”
“I tried it, daughter! Countless prayers, day after day. Nights wasted by me, in my eagerness to ask for help. All in vain. His eyes were blind with rage and his ears were deaf to our pains.”
“Dan Lao is cruel!”
“No, my child! He is a sufferer.”
Chapter 1
Narrated by Jade.
I walked along the wide path and in the distance, I saw a crowd of fishermen standing in front of my parents’ house. I sped up my steps and bumped into some curious onlookers and just ahead, there she was, the shaman, that brainless healer, talking to my Mother and Father.
My Father was the leader of the tribe and he was as desperate as the fishermen who followed him.
“You will give the best gift!” the shaman rattled a rattle in front of my father’s forehead. “The evil spirit of the dragon is on the prowl, to devour our innards! He makes the rainfall in other places, but he lets our people die.”
“Yes, that’s right!”
Some people spoke in anger, in chorus, and I shrugged, trying to get closer to my Father.
“Shaman! What shall we do to appease the fury of this cruel being?” my father’s voice sounded to me like such a liar, after hearing the truths that overflowed from Uncle’s mouth.
“Your most precious thing, my friend!” she stared at me and I frowned.
“I don’t have anything precious, woman!” my Father stared at his hands, analyzing what assets he might have.
“How could you not? You are beside her!”
“Oh!” the people let out a surprised breath, putting their dusty hands over their mouths.
“My daughter?” my Father looked at me, and my Mother shouted.
“OH! FOR DIVINE’S SAKE! POOR CHILD!” and she fainted, but soon she recovered, following her wailing cry.
I swallowed my cry and Dad took my hand and squeezed it.
“Daughter! Will you make this sacrifice for us? If you say you do not want to, I will understand it. But, look!” he pointed in the direction of the hungry people. “Everyone is suffering! Hunger and disease are hitting the people and soon, I will be the cruel victim of this damned dragon. I know I am a selfish man when I stand before you and I say these words. Please, child! Save my people. They are your people too!”
Before I could open my mouth, my Uncle Mao made his way through the legion of onlookers, pushed the shaman away, and stared at my Father, his brother.
“Fool! Will you throw your daughter into the sea, hoping the dragon will bless her? You know that the mistake was yours, not my poor Jade!”
“Shut up!” my Father growled. “The daughter is mine! I choose her destiny.”
“Only the Divine can choose the destiny of his children! No matter if they are gods or mortals!” Uncle Mao faced my Father, and I thought they would start a fight right there in front of everyone.
“I told you to shut up! You are just a crazy old man.” my Father raised his palm.
“You helped the gods! If there is drought and scarcity, it is your fault. Do not throw the heavy burden on Jade’s back!” Uncle Mao touched the beaded necklace and pressed it between the fingers of his right hand.
“My child!” my Father stared at me, terrified. “Don’t listen to your uncle.” he squeezed my hand, and me without courage, I didn’t look at him, but at my Uncle Mao, who was whimpering and rubbing his hands together in dreadful pleading.
“Father...” I whispered, but he did not wait for me to continue and he ran over my words that were crowding on the tip of my tongue.
“That’s right! We will do the ceremony tomorrow!” my Father held up my left hand, which was being crushed by his right palm, and the people rejoiced, smiling and singing.
The shaman looked over at me and she smiled darkly, while Uncle Mao denied with his head the heroic act I was about to perform.
During the night, I looked at the stars in the cloudless sky. The only drops of water that fell from somewhere were my tears, which stubbornly flowed all night long.
When the sun came up, my Mother emerged, holding my red wedding dress. I was to be the dragon’s bride. Bizarre and haunting was the feeling that welled up in my heart and regretted every step I took in my veins.
I stared at her without courage, because I lacked the words, and the strength as well, to inquire into this crude way of saving the world.
Human sacrifices were forbidden in that nation, but we were too far from the emperor for him to save me from the sad end.
While my Mother bathed me in perfume, adorned my hair with the gold left over from old jewelry, I blew on my makeup, crying. She did not notice, or pretended not to.
How could she be serene, knowing that her only daughter would be put on a boat, thrown out of the bay and beaten by the waves?
If I was lucky, I would be dead in a few minutes, but, if I was not, I would be adrift until I died of dehydration.
My feelings were never put first, nor last, because in their minds I, Jade, had no feelings.
Yes, I had feelings like any human. I liked Chin, a clumsy boy, who did not know the difference between a shark and a sardine. His clumsy manner made me smile, and he was the one I wanted to marry.
After a while, I would find out that what we wish for may not be right.
Who cared about Jade dying in the sea?
No one, except Uncle Mao.
When the door to our house was opened, he stood there, crying, because he would lose his niece as drastically as his daughter. The two young girls were disastrously connected with that dragon, who was the main victim in this story.
I swallowed my saliva clumsily when I caught sight of Uncle Mao, because I had been saying absolutely nothing since last night. He stepped forward and took my hand.
“Come on, child!” Uncle Mao blinked a few times and I bit my lips in an unsuccessful attempt to stop my crying.
We walked to the beach, followed by the tribe. They were singing praises to the gods, and among these gods, the name of the White Dragon echoed like a dagger in my chest.
In the distance, I spotted a makeshift pier and I frowned. Uncle nudged me and whispered about how the pier was built.
Nimble as sardines fleeing from a predator, the fishermen made it during the night.
“If only they had the same ability to ask forgiveness as they have to build a pier...” I thought.
My steps left the beaten ground and touched the fluffy sand of the beach, while my Father, on the pier, arranged the boat, full of red ribbons and fabrics of the same color.
He smiled, as if the sacrifice would really bring peace to the village.
“Poor father!” I murmured, and my uncle squeezed my right hand.
“No compassion, please! He is killing the only daughter he has. The Divine will not forgive this mistake. It will be another thousand years of drought. We will die soon, after you, believe me.”
My Father, who was leaning over to adjust a pillow that would accommodate my head while I would be pushed out to the open sea, raised his body and looked at the horizon.
The shaman shouted, approaching the pier:
“IT IS THE SIGN! IT IS THE SIGN! THE DRAGON ACCEPTS THE GIFT!”
Everyone looked to the horizon, and there, a tiny cloud appeared, but I had seen many similar clouds that never overpassed the dragon’s throat.
I looked down at the ground, staring at my feet plunged into the white sand.
“Uncle?” I called out to him, in my silent fear.
“Speak up, child!”
“I’m going to die, right?”
“I’m sorry! I will pray for the Divine to protect you! I still believe in the goodness of Dan Lao.”
“He has abandoned us, Uncle. Do not try! It is useless.”
“I’ll pray until my eyes close, child! I will never give up!”
“Jade!” my Father called me and I raised my eyes, letting go of Uncle’s hand and walking to the pier.
My Mother
did not go near the beach and, in the distance, I saw her silhouette hidden by the white veil, which left only her tearful eyes uncovered.
I sighed and climbed onto the pier. My Father took my left hand and some fishermen held the boat.
“Come in, daughter! Remember! You did the right thing! You will save the people!” he smiled, so proud of himself.
I said nothing. What would I say to this tragic scene? That he was wrong in his insane belief?
I put my right foot on the heap of red cloth. The boat moved, and the men balanced it. They were nervous that nothing would get out of hand.
“Lie down! Please! Do not you dare get up! The offering to the dragon must be still!” the shaman murmured, touching my father’s right shoulder, and I obeyed.
“Father...” I tried to speak, however, the fishermen began to push the boat across the bay, using small boats, which would escort me.
I raised my head, but one of them gave me a secure look and I closed my eyes.
They led me to the dragon’s throat and there, one last push was given and the waves did the rest.
✽✽✽
I opened my eyes and the sun, which minutes before had burned my face, was hidden at that moment by clouds, still gray, not laden with rain, as the shaman had claimed.
The waves were calm, and I sat down to analyze what my death would be like.
I tried to catch sight of the coast, squeezing my eyelids shut, but in vain. I could only discern, in the distance, the blue color of the mountains, too far, for my despair.
I was in the middle of the ocean, with no chance of salvation. What could I do? Just cry.
I curled up on my knees and hugged it, weeping, at every touch of the waves on the boat.
A thunder rang in my ears and my eyes widened. I looked up and the clouds became thick and danced without rhythm.
“My God! Storm? No!” I dragged my knees to the mast that my Father had decorated with red ribbons, with a dragon carved on top. I hugged it and the waves, once calm, whipped the boat.
“I’m going to die! I’m going to die! I’m going to die! I’m going to die! Father! Save me!” I howled, knowing that no one would hear me. “FATHER! FATHER! HELP!” I screamed, in my illusion of being rescued.
I screamed repeatedly, until my voice got tired and only hoarse sounds came out of my mouth.
The waves splashed on my face. The salt burned my eyes and my mouth.
The swinging of the boat terrified me, and my ignorant wish for salvation, I took the ribbons and tied it around my wrists. My hope was that the wood would float, and thus save me if the boat capsized. What I did not think was that if the boat capsizes, the mast would be underwater. I was so dumbass!
The lightning streaked across the sky, hit the water, and the waves grew so big that I could not see it.
“Divine! Save me!” I laid my forehead on the mast and closed my eyes.
The thunder traced a straight line from one ear to the other and I screamed:
“DRAGON! SAVE ME! DAN LAO! SAVE ME!”
The wave hit the boat and it turned over.
I fell into the cold water, and I tried to get out of the ridiculous knot I had tied minutes before, but I could barely see a finger’s width away, because the salt water was blinding my eyes.
Even being the daughter of fishermen, I had never learned to swim, and in that second, between despair and catastrophe, I miserably regretted denying the help of Uncle Mao, who had offered to teach me when I was still little and flexible.
Rough as a rock, I sank like bronze into that endless ocean.
In an attempt to untie the cursed knot, the mast hit my head, and what I saw before my eyes closed and I lost my breath, were bubbles of air all around me. Many bubbles and a white mist.
Chapter 2
Narrated by Jade.
“Madam!” a woman’s gentle voice rang in my right ear.
Slowly, I opened half an eyelid of my right eye and the clarity blinded me.
“Oh, you’re awake! Great!” the blurry vision of a woman in traditional dress and with a broad smile appeared before me.
“Where am I?” I groaned, and when I frowned, my forehead burned.
“Oh! Do not move, lady! The wound still needs to heal!”
“Wound?” I stood up and blinked hard, trying to place myself in which direction to look.
“The wound on your forehead.” She came closer and touched my cheek. “I will tell my master that you are awake.”
“Master?” I sketched, bewildered.
“You must be confused, poor thing! Calm down! You will understand everything, soon!” she turned away and I looked to the sides.
Around the bed were stems, four precisely, in the corners of the bed, covered with very fine silk, which I knew only the empress would dare to wear on a very special day. The ceiling was filled with carved woodwork. I was unable to decipher the designs. The floor shone like gold in the sun, but there was no sun, because it was raining.
I looked to the left side, and there, a huge window stood, close to the bed and its silks, which flew softly with the touch of the air. A garden shimmered outside, dripping with rain, which gave the clean, non-dusty color to the foliage.
I sighed. Where was I?
I denied it with my head, because I really knew the last thing that had happened: boat, sea and death.
“Did I die?” I thought, and someone’s footsteps came into my ears again.
I was wearing a pink hanfu, of graceful fabric, as light as the swaying silk. Who had dressed me?
Where was the damn wedding dress?
I shrugged my knees and hugged myself.
The woman appeared again, and her face was not as blurred as before in my vision.
“Take it!” she placed a tray on the bed and delicately poured tea into a green cup.
“My master will be here soon. You must have the tea!” her eyes sparkled like a mother’s love.
“Have I died?” I frowned, and she smiled.
“He will answer you!”
“Did I die? Really? Did I die? You can say it! I am strong!” I almost stuttered in fear.
She did not answer, just pointed for me to get the cup and she left the room.
I was terrified! Not only did I drank the tea in the cup... I poured the small teapot down my throat. I shook my head, as drunks do after taking more than intended, and blinked my eyes slowly.
“Is it a dream?”
I stood up, stumbling over the edges of the hanfu. I wrapped my arms around it and massaged my ribs. I needed answers and that woman with the wide smile did not seem willing to cooperate.
I pushed open the bedroom door and walked aimlessly down the long corridor.
Mysteriously, not a single person was there.
If this was Heaven, where were the gods who would judge my conduct on Earth?
I walked further, turned a corner, took another corridor, and another more. Next, I knew, I was walking in circles through the corridors that hugged the edges of the palace.
I gave up and stared at the flowers, which, wet with rain, seemed like a gentle balm for the dry days that hovered in my mind. I was possibly in Dead’s Heaven, and my family was evanescing on Earth, from hunger and thirst. It was unfair to admire those flowers with a thankfully face.
I stared at the purplish flowers, wondering how my Father looked at that moment. Was he crying for me? Would my Mother grieve too, or would she stay as usual, in the inertia of any emotion? Would the rain come? How would I know it?
Wrapped in my thoughts going back and forth, I felt that something was at the angle of my peripheral vision, which had been very blurry lately. I slowly turned my face to the left and a tall being, with long white hair and a flower ornament in his hair, who was pulling a few strands of hair to lay behind his left ear, was looking at me. He looked thoughtful or just absent, as if his eyes saw me but not giving me consideration.
“Ah, hello there! Is it Heaven, right?” I said awkwardly, blushing
my dead cheeks.
“Heaven?” his voice was hoarse, yet too soft to distinguish it from a breath of wind.
“I’m dead! I am sure of it! The lady even told me to drink the forgetful tea. I know that! That tea we drink when we need to pass through the portal and be born again.”
“Portal?” he analyzed me, with a strand of hair that hid a little the right side of his face.
“Yes, the portal to new life! You must be the gatekeeper, right?”
“Me?” he turned his face slightly and sighed, too soft for his huge chest.
The gods and their helpers were to be huge in stature, and indeed this was true, because my head was possibly at the height of his chest, if I pushed myself up and lifted my heels, of course!
“The ancients say that we can ask for something before we leave to be born again. May I know if it rained in the village?”
“It hasn’t rained! Why should it rain there?” his monosyllabic speech from before was over, and a whole sentence sounded like music in my ears.
“My Father will die! Damned Dragon! Oh, I wanted to find him and slap him to death!”
“Would you do that?” he raised the one eyebrow that I could see, because the other was still hidden behind his impeccably combed white hair.
“Of course! He is wicked. I am not afraid of him. I am dead, I don’t care about anything now! I will punch him, and I will punch him hard!” I slapped one hand over the other and he arched the corner of his mouth and took a step toward me.
“I got it! You’re not dead. Maybe the information will calm your brave Dragon-bashing rage.”
“Am I alive? How? I’m dead! I really died! For real! I saw the air bubbles.”
“I know that!”
“Are you sure I’m alive?”
“Yes, I’m sure!”
“How did I save myself?”
“You called the White Dragon, the same one you want to punch... As you said yourself... Well, punch hard!” he opened the smile arch a little wider, and I freaked out.
Was he a helper of that Dragon? My ignorance was beating my mind and I did not realize that his physiognomy was identical to what Uncle Mao had said.
