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The Ghost in the Woods Polly Ho
When I woke up, it wasn’t dawn yet. I sat up from my bed and found my back drenching in sweat. Even my hair was wet and sticky. It felt like Little Black’s hair after he had a swim in the river. Thinking about Little Black and the terrible thing I was about to do to him, I almost burst into tears. But I didn’t have the time to cry. I had to finish the job before everyone woke up.
In the small room filled with the smell of sweat, mosquito coil, and DDT spray, I listened with my heart pounding. The room was quiet except for my elder brother Han’s snore on top of our bunk bed. To be absolutely sure, I stuck my ear to the wall and listened. Good, not a sound from Mom and Dad’s room. I got off the bed and tip-toed to the parlor.
The parlor was so much cooler. A breeze came in through the open window and lifted the curtain up high, causing the hibiscus prints on the sheer muslin dancing wildly. I could see half a moon perching on the ficus tree branch near the window. The color of the moon was so pale that it reminded me of Mei Ling’s face when she handed me the rusty can and said, “I heard that you have a dog. I need a small can of dog blood.”
In 1956, I, Lin Ju, was eight, enrolled in second grade of Qing Xi Elementary School in Kowloon, Hong Kong. Mei Ling was the queen of our class. Her words were like an imperial decree; everyone must obey. You needed not kowtow to her if you didn’t mind standing alone at the playground, watching Mei Ling lead other girls playing paper balls, hide and seek, hotch-scotch, and eagle- catching- chicks. And I also dared you to defy her and risked the chance of being punished by Teacher Pan, Mei Ling’s mother. Everyone knew that if you offended Mei Ling, you mortified Teacher Pan.
To a student like myself who had just fled the communist regime with my family, I had no choice but to yield to Mei Ling’s ruling. In fact, I felt honored that she was willing to talk to me. Looking at me with her eyes shiny like black marbles, she said that the only reason I was entrusted with such a noble assignment was because she liked me. I guessed I should have thanked her, but instead I asked, “What do you need dog blood for?” Apparently, Mei Ling did not expect such a question from me, her face turned red. But she didn’t scold me; instead, she giggled and said, “Okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone else.”
We hooked our little fingers as I solemnly swore that my entire family would die if I told the secret to anyone.
Mei Ling said that the blood was for the ghosts. She said that the school was originally a graveyard; and the ghosts used to rise from their graves and roam around at night. She said that for some strange reason, they stopped coming out now. She said that we must dig a hole in the ground and offer them food to lure them out. She said that dog blood was used to blind the ghosts. She said that when the ghosts were blind, they wouldn’t harm anyone. She said that I needed to use a sharp knife to cut a small opening on the dog’s belly. She said that the blood would gush out like water.
At the end of her talk, my ears were muffled, and stomach tumbled. Feeling dizzy and nauseated, I squatted down and threw up. The grass in front of me was instantly covered with a grayish foamy blotch dotted with bits of undigested scallion, emitting a vinegary stench.
Mei Ling pinched her nose in disgust and walked away in big strides. Before she reached the classroom, she turned, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouted at me, “I’ll wait for you by the school gate ten o’clock tomorrow morning.” Through teary eyes, I watched her skipping to the classroom, pony tail swaying, puffy skirt flaring. I hugged my knees and sobbed till my limbs felt numb. Knowing that I shouldn’t miss class, I pushed myself up and scuffled toward the classroom.
How I hated to go to my class! I wished that I would die at this moment. If I died, I wouldn’t have to face Mei Ling and her mother—Teacher Pan.
I knew that Teacher Pan was waiting for me in the classroom like a hawk. Besides reproaching me for being late, she’d also ask me for the delinquent tuition. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her again that she had to wait for a little longer, for my father still hadn’t found a job. She’d scowl at me and say, “Don’t come to school if you don’t have the money!” while the entire class was staring at me. I couldn’t stand their scornful eyes, especially those of Mei Ling and her friends in puffy skirts. Why could they wear puffy skirts while I had to put on the faded blue overalls handed down from my brother? What right did they have to disdain me just because their parents were wealthier than mine?
I hated my parents! I hated their poverty! I hated Hong Kong, the “ghostly place”—the exact words Mom used to curse Hong Kong when fighting with Dad. Oh, how I hated to be born to this world! How I hated this can! I tossed the can with all the strength I had as if it were the hatred bloated in my heart.
No sooner had the can flown into the air than I heard someone in distance cry out,” Ai Yo!” Then I saw Uncle Ming running toward me, holding something shinny in his hand. He stopped facing me and gave me the can. “Since there is no one else on the playground, I reckon this must be yours,” Uncle Ming said, grinning, his white teeth gleaming in the sun. “Thank goodness it was me that you hit. Had it been anyone else, you would be sent to the principal’s office.”
I bowed my head and thanked him. I liked Uncle Ming. He used to work with Dad at the publishing company in Guangzhou. He came a few months before us and landed himself a job as a custodian in this school, which provided free lodging to compensate for his meager salary. Thanks to Uncle Ming, Han and I were admitted to the school without paying for the tuition in advance. Mom said we owed Uncle and Auntie Ming a lot. Ever since we had moved to Hong Kong, we didn’t see Auntie Ming, who was left behind in Guangzhou to care for the children and Uncle Ming’s elderly parents. Mom said that Auntie Ming should join Uncle Ming quickly. “It is unsafe to leave such a good looking husband in Hong Kong alone,” Mom said.
Uncle Ming took a good look at me and patted me on my head. “Little Ju, go to your class room quickly! It has been a while since I rang the bell,” he said, fluffing my hair a little, which made me feel like crying again. When I turned around and walked away, he called me from behind and asked, “Teacher Pan is your teacher, right?” I nodded. Lowering his head as if searching for something on the ground, Uncle Ming remained quiet for a while. Then he fished a creased envelope from the breast pocket of his shirt and said, “Would you give Teacher Pan this envelope for me?” But as I was ready to take the envelope, he yanked it back and waived in dismissal, “Forget it! Go to your class now!”
Teacher Pan seemed to be in a good mood today. She neither punished me for being late, nor asked me for the tuition. Instead of qi pao, her normal attire, she was wearing a polka dot sheath; and a red patent leather belt embraced her small waist. Her hair was combed neatly in back forming a tight bun, which was adorned by an emerald green hairpin with glittering gold rim. She was a beautiful woman. Mei Ling was pretty too, for she inherited her mother’s oval face and large, sparkling eyes. The two would look even better if they smiled more often. But they chose to wear a sulky face most of the time, as if the whole world owed them something. Nevertheless, the mother seemed unusually pleasant today. She looked almost jubilant when she handed out the old English magazines to us. According to Mei Ling, those magazines, which we tore apart and used as origami paper, were brought by her dad from Europe. “You guys should be thankful,” she said. As the captain of a cargo ship, Mei Ling’s dad had traveled all over the world. Besides magazines, he also brought Mei Ling chocolates, cookies, gum, hair pins, puffy skirts, and everything I dreamed of. Mom said I should not envy Mei Ling, for her dad was hardly home. “Although we are poor, your dad is always home to care for us, “Mom said.
My brother Han was always walking ahead of me on the way home from school. He strode in front, his twiggy legs sticking out from his frayed shorts. He’d often pick up a twig and run it across the bamboo fence, causing the dogs to bark. He’d also draw a slingshot from his pocket and shoot the sparrows flitting on the breadfruit tree branches. He’d miss and cause the birds to fly away in fright. Sometimes he’d disappear suddenly and come back with a lizard wiggling in his hand, his bitty eyes sparkling, freckled nose crinkling, and cackled like a rooster.
It made me sad to watch Han being so genuinely happy. I didn’t understand why his world was so simple and gleeful, while mine was complicated and somber. Was it because I was a girl? But girls seemed happy, too. They jabbered while skipping on the road home like little sparrows. And after they got home, they’d sit on a little stool, licking a Popsicle, reading the latest issue of “Children’s Paradise Monthly.” Tomorrow would be Sunday, they could sleep in. They didn’t need to meet with Mei Ling at ten o’clock. Above all, they didn’t have a rusty can to be filled with dog blood.
The can in my book bag made a clanking sound when it rubbed against the metal pencil box, the same sound as Little Black made when the iron tab on his neck hit his bowl while he drank water. The sight of me cutting Little Black’s thin, shrunken belly made my stomach turn. I couldn’t tell Han; fearing that the curse would befall him. Nor could I tell my parents, for they would not be in the mood to listen. Both of them had been temperamental ever since we moved to Hong Kong.
I was tossing and turning all night. Besides poor Little Black, Mei Ling’s story about the ghosts was also on my mind. Nobody believed in Mei Ling, who always lied, although we all pretended to take her at her word out of fear. Once she said people would vanish when spinning rapidly on the ground. To prove her point, Mei Ling had Hui twirl on the playground until she passed out, her thick glasses flung to the floor. Another time Mei Ling claimed that she had an elixir, which could revive the dead from the great beyond. So she asked Fang Fang, the girl with long, beautiful braids, to steal a dead smelt from her fisherman dad’s stall. And during recess, Mei Ling put the elixir and the fish in a bowl of water. A few days later, the water turned stale with the putrid fish floating on top. Poor Fang Fang received a good spanking when her dad found out about her misconduct. But there were times when Mei Ling was telling the truth. Take, for example, once she announced to the class that she would bring an American doll whose eyes would blink automatically; and she did. I still remembered how overbearing she looked -- chin lifted, lips clamped--while the rest of us were drooling over the doll.
So, how could I tell whether she was lying this time? No, I couldn’t. Nonetheless, all Mei Ling asked of me was a can of dog blood. That’s all. I ought to be free to leave once she had the can. Why would it concern me whether there's indeed any scary ghost in school, who might swallow me in a gulp? With that thought, I finally fell asleep, only to be awakened by a nightmare, in which I was chased by a ghost sticking a foot- long bloody tongue from his mouth.
Now I was standing on the cement floor in the parlor, facing the moldy, stain-splotched wall, on which hung a picture of my deceased grandfather, whose sunken eyes glared at me sadly. Turning my back to avoid his omniscient stare, I looked up, searching for the knife -- the sharpest one in the house --which Mom hid on top of the bamboo bookcase. "So that your little sticky fingers can't touch it," Mom said to Han and me. Too short to see anything that high, I moved a stool and clambered on it. Standing on my toes, now I could see the tip of the knife gleaming in the yellowish morning light. The cold, metallic glint gave me a chill. Drawing a deep breath, I stretched my hand to grab it. When my hand finally touched its sleek wooden handle, I stumbled, but immediately found my footing and regained balance. I got the knife.
Holding the knife in one hand, and the rusty can in the other, I sneaked out of the parlor.
Little Black was waiting for me at the door. The minute he saw me, he jumped at me with his tail wagging. Dodging his wet tongue, I crouched down and put my arms around his neck. He was all bones. Little Black was like a woolen ball rolling all over the floor when Uncle Ming first brought him to our house. Mom said that we couldn’t keep him, since there was not enough food for people, much less for a pet. But Dad’s face lit up when he saw the way Han and I held the puppy. “Let him stay,” Dad sighed. Mom was right though, we really couldn’t afford Little Black. Ever since he came, his round body became lanky; his cheeks were hollow like a big rat.
Little Black was my only playmate when Han rather spent time by himself, making a kite, a sling shot, or a wooden sword. I’d roll the marbles on the floor all at once and watched Little Black running in all directions, trying to catch every one of them. Then he’d catch one in his mouth and bring it back to me, tail wagging, eyes sparkling. I’d hug him and give him a big kiss on the nose. I loved Little Black, and I also loved my marbles--the beautiful, shining little glass balls Daddy got me on my birthday. I wrapped them in my best handkerchief, put them in an old pencil box, and tucked them under my pillow. I enjoyed looking at each one of them through the bright sunlight, watching how their colors changed as I rolled them between my fingers. I enjoyed counting them, washing them in soapy water, and laid them in rows under the sun to dry afterwards.
I let go of Little Black. In a dry and quivering voice, I coaxed him, “Lie down, good dog.” Moving his eyes from my face to the spiky knife, Little Black let out a moan and ran away. I chased after him and later found him shivering by the stove. Making his body as small as he could, he looked at me with sad, desperate eyes, as if he was ready to accept his fate. In tears I knelt on the floor and raised the knife. Suddenly I heard Han yelling from behind, “What are you doing?” Shocked, I dropped the knife on the floor. Picking up the knife and throwing it into the water basin, he grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me fiercely. “You must be mad! You are trying to kill Little Black!” Han cried.
In the end, I didn’t tell Han the truth, no matter how he threatened me with angry words. The only thing I told him was that I had to fill the can with dog blood by ten o’clock. “I won’t live through the day if I don’t,” I blubbered, sobbing hysterically. Cocking his head to look at me, Han's eyes softened, his jaws relaxed. He promised to help and the trade- off was that I had to give him all my marbles.
No, not my marbles! Han knew how much I treasured them, and he was taking advantage of me. Nevertheless, at a time like this, what could I have done but comply?
Holding a can of water that Han mixed with red ink and flour, I told Mom that I was going with friends to a bible class. Mom stuck her head from the rolling smoke above the clay stove and waved. “All right, you may go,” she said coughing. As I closed the door, Han dashed out and asked whether I needed his company. I shook my head. He patted my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, everything will be all right.” His gentle touch and kind words lit up my heart like a cluster of fire worms.
It was Sunday morning, and there was hardly anybody on the road. By the roadside, a woman in black peasant clothes quietly lifted a long ladle to fertilize vegetables. A farmer carrying two barrels of water with a pole on his shoulder trotted by in a hurry, as if he were trying to escape a calamity. The sun baked the land with its bright, dazzling rays, which seemed to be enchanted by the heat, and stood still in awe. Walking alone in this quiet, deserted land, I was worrying about Mei Ling’s response in case she found out about the fake blood. I knew for sure she would punish me. But how? Would she tell everyone not to play with me? Or she would force me to kiss a boy like she made Xiao Pei do last week? Worse yet, she could ask her mother to find an excuse for the principal to expel me from school. The more I thought about it, the more scared I became. But despite of the fear, my feet walked toward the school, as if they had their own will.
When I arrived at the school, Mei Ling, clad in a red button down shirt and khaki pants, was waiting for me at the door, with Fang Fang and Hui standing sheepishly by her side. I was taken by surprise, for I didn’t expect anyone else but Mei Ling. When Mei Ling saw me, she marched over and hissed, “Why are you late?” Her face was frigid, her tone icy cold. “Give me the can!” she demanded. With a shaking hand, I passed her the can. Then I turned around, ready to leave. But Mei Ling called me from behind. “Come back! You can’t leave yet,” she yelled. There was a certain severity in her reedy voice which made resistance impossible. I walked toward her in obedience.
We followed Mei Ling past the rows of classrooms, crossed the playground, and walked toward the woods on the north side of our school campus. The school authority forbade us to wander into the dark and dense woods, fearing that we might get lost. Also, since the teachers’ temporary housing was built right at the border of the woods, we were not allowed to trespass. "You can't come too close, because your clamor is too disturbing to the teachers' families," Uncle Ming explained. He lived there, too, except that he had no family members to be disturbed.
While Mei Ling was scurrying ahead, Fang walked next to me and asked, “Ju, what do you have in the can?” “Dog blood,” I replied as calmly as I could. “What?” Startled, Fang Fang shrieked. Biting her lips to stifle a sob, she lagged behind in silence for a while. Then she caught up with me and whispered, “Mei Ling told me to bring incense… told Hui to bring food. She said we were going to play a game. Do you know what kind of game?” She asked, staring at me teary eyed. I shook my head. I couldn’t tell her. She would find out for herself.
I knew we were getting closer to the woods when my nose filled with a waft of dried bark, damp earth, decayed leaves, and moldy moss. As we shambled ahead, we found ourselves in a dark, soundless world surrounded by hundreds of camphor trees, their naked trunks uplifting the earth, their luxuriant leaves blocking the sky, and their massive branches scratching the clouds. The trees were like an army of battling giants frozen in action under a spell, waiting desperately for an enormous hand from heaven to set them free. The sound of the wind breathing through the leaves was like people murmuring in their dreams. The air was moist and chilling; and goose bumps crept up my arms and legs.
Threading in front, Mei Ling turned her head this way and that, searching for something. Then she stopped. In front of her was a clearing, where the sun shone on a small patch of weeds the color of my lime- green marble. I never knew that the sun could make something as ugly as weeds so beautiful.
“Get over here!” Mei Ling called, signaling us to come closer.
We obeyed in silence.
“Put everything on the ground,” Mei Ling ordered the two girls.
Cocking her head, Fang Fang drew a sheaf of incense and a match box from her book bag, squatted down, and placed them on the grass. Her long braids swayed as she stood up. Hui unraveled a large mauve handkerchief, taking out a small bag of milk candy and two sesame cookies. Just as she put the food next to the incense, Mei Ling grabbed her by the arm.
“How stupid can you be? This way you’ll get the food dirty. Lay the handkerchief on the ground first.” Words sputtered out from Mei Ling’s mouth like firecrackers.
“But it belongs to my mom,” Hui mumbled, clutching the handkerchief in her hand. Her eyes behind those thick glasses were filled with tears.
“So?”
Sobbing, Hui complied. After she placed the candy and cookies on top of the handkerchief, she put pebbles on its four corners to keep it from being blown away. Hui was not stupid. In fact, she was the smartest kid in our class.
“Now, Fang Fang come help me clear this spot,”Mei Ling said drawing a pencil box from her pocket. She opened the box and took out a sharp, glinting object.
“A knife!” Hui gasped.
“What do you use it for?” Fang Fang asked while pulling the weeds with shaking hands, her braids touching the dirt.
“You tell them,” Mei Ling said, pointing a finger at me. I obeyed. But when I was half way through telling the story, the two girls’ faces turned white, and their limbs jittery. They hugged each other and wailed in despair while I was stammering nonsense. Eventually, I stopped and wept with them. Mei Ling laughed, seemingly amused by our cowardice. Then she stopped laughing. Dropping on her knees, she drove the knife in the soil and began to dig.
“It should be big enough now.” Looking at a hole the size of a pencil holder, Mei Ling said. She stood up, rubbing her hands, patting her dirty jeans.
Then she walked toward me holding the knife in her hand. Frightened, I backed off, stumbled on a dead tree trunk and fell. Feeling a sharp pain on the back of my head, I knew I must have hit something hard.
Lying on the damp earth facing the sky, I could hear Mei Ling’s footsteps coming toward me. Panicked, I struggled to stand up, but my legs failed me. Then the footsteps stopped. I turned my head sideways, and all I could see was Mei Ling’s black patent leather shoes, her pink socks, and the lacy ruffles on top. In my mind, I could see her standing inches away, holding a knife in her hand, and reading my face. I closed my eyes, ready to accept whatever happened next.
I must have passed out when Mei Ling cut my hair with her knife, otherwise why didn’t I feel a thing? At any rate, I came to, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Mei Ling squatting besides me, waving a sheaf of brownish hair in front of my nose. I also noticed that her other hand was empty. The knife was gone.
“Stand up and put your hair in the hole,” Mei Ling ordered. Then she stood up, walking toward the two whining, trembling girls. After crying for so long, they seemed to have lost their voices and began to howl like some nameless beasts.
I pushed myself up, felt the back of my head and found a bump the size of a quail egg. But thank goodness, it was not wet, so I wasn’t bleeding. With a splitting headache, I shuffled over and did as told. After I put every stand of my hair in the hole, I looked at Mei Ling, who nodded her head in approval. I waited for her to do the same thing to Hui and Fang Fang, but she didn’t. Why just me and not them? Perturbed, I began to sense that something ominous was going to happen to me next.
And then she handed me the can.
“Pour it in the hole!” Mei Ling said, staring at me with her beautiful black eyes.
I didn’t budge, fearing that the truth might come out once I open the lid.
“Come on, open the lid and pour!” Mei Ling was getting impatient.
Han said that the color and the consistency of the mixture could fool anyone. But how could he be so sure? Mei Ling was not just anyone. She’s not that easily tricked. She’s so smart that her omniscient eyes could see through everything. But there was a chance she might not. She’s not God, after all. Shall I take a chance or not? Oh, how I wish Han were here! Why was I so foolish to refuse when he offered to come along?
“Mei Ling, are you telling the…the truth? Are you…you… sure there are ghosts here?” Out of nowhere, I came up with this stupid question. I knew I was doomed. Oh Han, Where are you? Please come rescue me!
“Of course I’m sure!” Infuriated, Mei Ling yelled at me. Then she narrowed her eyes and sized me up for a long time. My heart thumped. I knew that she finally had everything figured out; she was as cunning as a fox. “What you have in the can is not dog blood, is it?” She asked.
I bit my lips, didn’t reply.
“Answer me, Lin Ju!”
“Of course… It is.” I said, lowering my head to stare at my dusty cloth shoes.
“Don’t lie to me! The ghosts will punish you for lying.”
Terrified, my eyes welled up, and tears poured out like water through a cracked dam.
“I knew you didn’t have the guts to cut up your dog,” she said. Bending down, she stroke a match, lit the incense sticks, and stuck them on the ground. Mei Ling did all those things in such an adept manner that you’d think that she had been practicing that all her life.
“When the incense sticks burn out, at least one ghost will come out to hunt for the owner of the hair,” she said.
“What?” I shrieked. Like a mad dog, I dropped my knees on the ground, poking my fingers in the hole and digging for my own hair.
“Too late now. When I burned the incense, the ghosts already smelled the scent of your hair. They know how to find you.” When Mei Ling saw me holding my hair in my dirty hand, she shook her head and said pitifully.
Clutching my hair in my fist, I cried harder.
“Don’t cry like a baby,” Mei Ling said while wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “You can still blind the ghost’s eyes if you have the real dog blood.”
“But… how…how can I get…it?”
“I know. It’s not easy,” Mei Ling sighed. Cocking her neck, she thought for a moment. “Ah, yes!” Mei Ling handed me her knife and whispered in my ear, “Use your own blood. It’s just as good.”
I didn’t remember how my left index finger was wounded. But when I came to, I felt a throbbing pain on my finger and saw blood oozing out from the wound like water from an icy glass. Terrified, I yelled for help, but all I heard was the rattling of the leaves, and a piercing cry from a raven flying from the treetop to the sky. Looking around, I realized that Mei Ling, Hui, and Fang Fang, all three of them were gone, and I was left in the woods alone. Then I noticed something gleaming on the ground. It was Mei Ling’s knife. In a split of second, everything became clear to me like someone turned on the light in a dark room. Oh yes, I cut my finger with that knife and let my blood drip in the hole over there. What for? Yes, of course, to blind the ghosts so that they wouldn’t pop up from the hole to chase after me. Since there was no sight of any ghost, it must have worked.
But how about my finger? Looking at the blood oozing incessantly from the open wound, I understood that I’d die if I couldn’t find a way to stop the bleeding. I searched around, trying to find something—a large leaf, soft bark, even a piece of rag. Then I spotted Hui’s handkerchief. Thank God she left it here. I crept over, yanked the food from the handkerchief and wrapped it tight around my finger. But it didn’t help much. Soon blood seeped through the mauve handkerchief and formed a dark purple splotch on its outer layer. I clambered up and started to walk, knowing that I must get out of the woods before all the blood drained out of me.
I didn’t remember how long I shambled along till I finally saw the sun again. Looking at the blood- drenched handkerchief under the dazzling sun, I felt woozy and nauseated. I thought I was going to die. But I didn’t want to die, not now, not when I had not even begun to live. Oh, Mom and Dad, where are you? Please come rescue me! What about Han? He knew where I went. It had been such a while since I had left home. He should have been worrying and have brought Mom and Dad here to search for me.
“Mama, Baba, Han---“I mustered all my strength and cried out. But no matter how many times I called, there was no sight of them.
As my feet began to wobble, I knew that my strength was leaving my body like air escaping from a deflated balloon.
I continued walking light-headed until a row of wooden bungalows caught my eyes. I recognized these houses. They were temporary houses built for our school teachers and staff. Dad brought me here to visit Uncle Ming once. Uncle Ming! Yes, Uncle Ming could help me. I remembered the house he lived in. It was the second to the last one on the right hand side. Yes, this one. I remembered those azalea bushes; the pink and white flowers were in full bloom now. When I came with Dad, the flowers were just budding. “Uncle Ming! Uncle Ming!” I banged on the door. No response. Maybe Uncle Ming was in the back. I lurched to the back and slammed on the door as hard as I could. “Uncle Ming! Uncle Ming!” Again, no response.
Then I heard a strange noise. It sounded like Uncle Ming, but raspier, like wheezing. The noise was coming from a small slit of a closed window. “Uncle Ming, are you there?” I yelled at the window. Still no response. Now Hui’s handkerchief was soaking wet, and blood began to drip like raindrops from the eves. I felt dizzier. I knew someone was inside Uncle Ming’s house, whoever that person was, I had to get him to open the door before I passed out. Then I
spotted a pile of old newspapers stacked by the window. Great! I could use it as a stepstool. So I climbed on the pile and peeked through the small opening of the window. And I was stunned by a terrifying sight.
In the dark, dingy room, Uncle Ming was laying flat on his bed while a naked woman was sitting on top of him. I knew she was a ghost, because from the back, she looked exactly like the one in my dream— bony body, long, disheveled hair, and wavering, snake -like waist.
The ghost was moving up and down on top of Uncle Ming, who seemed in such great pain that he let out a groan like an injured animal.
Suddenly, the ghost stopped bouncing. She fell flat on Uncle Ming’s body as if she was crushing him. Oh no, she were going to kill him! I started to scream at the top of my lungs. I screamed till the ghost turned her head and showed a face identical to Teacher Pan’s; till everyone from the dormitory ran out and forced open Uncle Ming’s door; and till I fell from the newspaper pile and knocked my head on the ground.
Before I lost consciousness, I heard the noises of doors banging, footsteps coming and going, children screaming, and adults shouting to one another.
“Look at her bloody finger!”
“Go get some bandages!”
“It’s Lin Ju! Anybody knows where she lives?”
“Go get her parents!”
Then I saw many big black heads huddle around me, faces blurring, mouths moving, white teeth gleaming. And then the light went off.
“She passed out; get her to the hospital, quick!”
When I woke up, Mom and Dad were sitting by my bedside, holding my hands and smiling at me. They told me that while I was sleeping, the doctor gave me a tetanus shot, sewed up the wound on my finger, and wrapped it with gauze.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Mom said, patting my hand.
On the train back home from the hospital, I told Mom and Dad the entire story. Mom hugged me tight, tears streaming down her face. Dad put his arm around Mom’s shoulder, and Mom leaned over to his chest. Dad chuckled, complaining that Mom’s hair was tickling his chin, and Mom giggled like a child. Craning my neck to look at my parents’ happy faces, I cried. This was the first time I had seen them laugh so hard since we moved to Hong Kong. Then it dawned on me that Han wasn’t with us.
“Where is Han?” I asked.
“Don’t know. He went out before noon, saying he was going to his friend’s house, and I haven’t seen him since.” Mom flipped Dad’s wrist to look at his watch, frowning. “It’s almost six o’clock now; he should be home by the time we get back.”
“He’ll be home waiting for us, don’t worry!” Dad grabbed Mom’s hand and smiled at her.
Han waited for us on the roadside. He was sitting under a mulberry tree, face buried in his lap, Little Black crouching besides him. Both of them seemed to have fallen asleep. But Little Black soon spotted us and started yelping. Han jerked up and scrambled toward us, arms opened wide, face smeared with tears. Little Black trotted behind, his tongue sticking out, panting.
Letting go off my hand, Dad ran over to Han and embraced him. Bundling together, the four of us walked home while Little Black dashed in front, leading the way.
“So, Han, you didn’t go visit your friend, huh?” Dad said, his eyes fixed on Han’s face.
“No, Dad, I lied,” Han shook his head, kicking a pebble to the side of the road. “I went to the school looking for Ju. I searched everywhere on campus, the playground, the auditorium, every classroom, even the storage room and the principal’s office,” Han said his voice quivering. “Then I came home, thinking that she might have gone home already. But when I came back to an empty house, I was really frightened. I thought something horrible happened to all of you.” Han bit his lip tight to stifle a sob; tears welled up in his eyes.
“It’s all right, Han. Everyone is safe home now,” Mom said, clasping Han’s hand, lips twitching, and a thin line emerging at the corner of her mouth like a faint pencil mark.
Mom put me in bed after we arrived home. “Sleep for a while, I’ll wake you up when dinner is ready,” she said laying a thin blanket on my tummy.
I felt something hard under my pillow. I fumbled and found a pouch—Han’s portable pocket in which he stored his snail shells, sling shot, bottle caps, and knickknacks—and the moment I touched it, I knew what was inside.
“My marbles! Oh, Han, thank you!” Knowing that my brother had returned the marbles to me, I cried, clutching the pouch to my chest.
Mei Ling didn’t show up in class the next morning, neither did her mother; so the principal taught our class. I didn’t see Uncle Ming, either; and no body noticed his absence till recess time came and the bell remained mute.
In the evening, Uncle Ming came to see Dad. When he arrived, it was past our bedtime; Han was already snoring, and I was drifting in and out of my dreams. Then a loud thud woke me up, and Uncle Ming’s muffled voice all at once became clear to me.
“Sorry, I accidentally knocked your book to the floor. Hope it’s not torn.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just an old book,” Dad said.
“No matter what you say, I’ve made up my mind. I must leave here,” Uncle Ming said.
“Well, then…Do you have any idea where you’re going?”
“Home, of course. I….I have no other place to go, and you know it.”
“Ai,” Dad sighed. “You haven’t been using your head.”
“I know, I wanted to break up with her, but she wouldn’t let me.”
A long pause.
“She asked to see me the day before, and I didn’t go. I dropped a letter in her mailbox, saying I wanted to end the affair.”
“Oh?”
“I never thought she’d show up at my doorstep early the next morning.”
“But you should have known better…”
“I know. I was stupid. I have no one to blame but myself.”
I couldn’t fully fathom the meaning of their conversation, but I sensed that Uncle Ming’s decision had to do with the incident this afternoon, and I was the one to blame, not him. Had I not caused such commotion, no one would have found Uncle Ming and Teacher Pan together. And that seemed to be terribly wrong. Feeling shameful and guilty, I buried my face in the blanket and cried myself to sleep.
Uncle Ming left Hong Kong the next day. As for Teacher Pan and Mei Ling, people missed seeing them for a while, and found their mail uncollected, furniture gone, and lights off; they assumed that the entire family had moved somewhere else.
When the weather turned sultry, the dragonflies skipped in the water to cool off, the cicadas thrilled like a broken record, and the sweet smell of ripe mulberries permeated the air, summer vacation had begun. For some reason, Fang Fang and Hui became extremely friendly; they started to come to our house to play frequently. When Han had nothing better to do, he’d join us for a marble game or teach us to make a kite. Otherwise he’d go fishing with Dad, or take Little Black to the stream for a swim. But sometimes he’d take off with his backpack, claiming that he was going to the mountain to visit his Taoist monk friend. Mom and Dad just laughed. “Having an imaginary friend is better than having no friend at all.” Mom commented after Han walked out of the door.
But I couldn’t forget Uncle Ming. I understood that I was the one who caused all his troubles and drove him back to the horrible place from where he risked his life to escape. No matter how many times Mom and Dad told me that I wasn’t responsible for his misfortune, I couldn’t forgive myself. As a bad person, I deserved to be punished by the ghost in the woods. But Mom and Dad insisted that there was no ghost, and no graves in the woods, either. Mei Ling had made everything up. But if there was no ghost, what was that thing hiding in my room in the middle of the night? I could sense her presence. I knew that she was crouching in the corner in the dark, staring at me with her hollow eyes. And when I fell asleep, she’d creep into my dreams, who had an emaciate body like a snake, long and sleek hair, and a blurry face. Sometimes I was most certain that it was Uncle Ming, but the minute I wanted to take a good look, the face melted down like a candle stick. Other times, it resembled Teacher Pan, who came on top of me, jumping up and down, trying to crash me; and while I was suffocating, struggling for air, I woke up. The ghost might appear in different faces, but I knew that she was from the woods, because the strong smell of camphor lingered on hours after she left.
I told Han about it. As promised, he kept a vigil the next night to guard me, but nothing happened. The next day, he gave me a small wooden sword with strange symbols like Taoist tally on its handle.
“Put it under your bed, “Han said, handing me the sword. “This is no ordinary sword. It’s been blessed by a Taoist monk, and has the power to exorcise any ghost. The minute the sword senses the ghost approaching, it’ll fly out to drive him away.”
I did as told. I trusted my brother, who seemed to have a solution to almost any problem I encountered in life. Nevertheless, I remained somewhat skeptical about the sword’s magical power, because it looked no different from any other sword that Han made from twigs—crooked, nodes and splinters all over-- except for the funny looking inscriptions on the handle.
It worked. Ever since I placed the sword under my bed, and that thing disappeared; it simply evaporated in the air, sucked in the earth, or, according to Han, “killed by the sword.” Although she didn’t show her face, I knew that she couldn’t be too far away, for I could still smell her. I knew that she was lurking somewhere outside, waiting for her opportunity to sneak in and snatch me.
Meanwhile, things around the house got worse. Dad still couldn’t find work, and we had spent all the money we brought from the Mainland. Mom sold almost all our possessions around the house, but the money she got didn’t last long. One day she claimed that there was barely enough rice in the barrel to make a pot of porridge. Mom finally put aside her pride and went to the church to beg for free flour from Ms. Ball, the English Missionary, like the rest of the refugees. With the flour and scallions that she harvested in the backyard, she managed to make enough pancakes to feed our family twice a day. But since those thin pancakes were no more filling than water- down porridge, Han and I remained hungry all the time. Sometimes it got so bad that we could hear each other’s stomach growling, which amused Han so much that he always burst out laughing.
Besides food, rent was another predicament. When we were three months late on the rent, the landlady threatened to evict us if we couldn’t come up with the money in ten days.
Facing the imminent calamity of living on the street, Mom and Dad became so distressed that they could hardy talk. I’d rather see them yelling at each other than sitting from dawn to dusk in the broken wicker chairs, Dad smoking recycled cigarettes butts, while Mom stared at a huge water stain on the wall as if she were studying a map.
“We’ll go back to Guangzhou,” Dad finally opened his mouth. “At least we can stay with my cousin for a while.
“Are you crazy?” Mom asked Dad in a dry and accusing voice. “You want to go back while everyone is fleeing the country in swarms?” Mom’s upper lip stuck to her teeth, which made her look a bit gruesome.
“What else can we do? Hang ourselves?” Dad raised his voice as well.
“How about the story you’ve just finished?” Mom said, her eyebrows knotted, her lips quivering. “You don’t spend all that time writing for fun. Do you? Do something with it.”
“It’s just a rough draft; I haven’t even revised it yet.” Dad grumbled.
“By the time you finish revising, we’ll be long dead,” Mom stood up, walked to their bedroom, and closed the door with a bang.
Early next morning, Dad put on his grayish suite-- the only one he brought from China, tucked his manuscript under his arm, and left the house. That evening, he came home with a tired and wrathful look. When he saw the plate of pancakes Mom saved for him on the table, he flung it to the floor, shards of dish flying everywhere.
The next few days, Dad left early and came home late at night, looking tired and despondent. Two days before the eviction, Mom was setting dishes on the table when I heard Dad calling out in the alley, loud and clear. “I found a job! I found a job! Daddy found a job!”
When Mom rushed to open the door, we found Dad standing in front, holding a brown paper bag in his hand, laughing like a hyena. Swinging the bag on the dining table, he slumped in the chair and smiled at Mom.
“I got a job!” Dad said, grabbing Mom’s hand.
“Really?” Mom asked, sitting on the arm of Dad’s chair, her pointy chin quivering like a melting candle. “No kidding?”
Dad nodded.
“Oh, thank Heaven!” Mom burst into tears and threw herself in Dad’s arms.
Screaming in joy, Han and I joined our parents in the chair, which moaned and groaned, finally let out a screeching sound and collapsed. The four of us ended up scrambling on the floor, laughing hysterically. After we clambered up, Dad led us to the dining table where the oil-drenched brown bag was sitting.
“Now, open this!” Dad gave the bag a little push and said to Mom.
“Dad, is it meat? It smells like meat!” Han asked Dad, his eyes sparkling and mouth drooling.
“It’s chicken, and I know it!” I took a deep breath and said. Although we hadn’t had it for a long time, I still remember the savory aroma of my favorite dish--soy sauce chicken.
“You’ll see,” Dad smiled, patting my head.
Kneeling on the wooden bench, Han and I anxiously watched Mom rustle the bag with her shaking hands. “Roast duck!” Han and I gasped when Mom finally tore open the bag and revealed a golden, honey glazed succulent duck, all chopped up and wrapped in red cellophane. Mom cried. She kept saying, “No! It’s not real, it must be a dream!”
“What are you waiting for? Dig in!” Dad said, taking the duck out and placing it on an empty dish. While chewing a wing, Dad told us that he met a publisher who liked his story so much, that he paid him an advance and hired him as an editor on the spot.
“The minute I got the money, I went to buy this duck. I know how hungry you guys have been,” Dad sighed.
“Thank you, Dad,” Han and I mumbled while stuffing our mouths with duck meat.
Each of us ate to our heart’s content and went to bed with full stomachs.
As our lives got better, and food and clothes became bountiful around the house, we received a mysterious package. After Mom finished reading a letter came with the package, she pulled me aside and told me that it was from Uncle Ming. She said that Uncle Ming had gone to Taiwan, found a good job as a journalist, and would fetch for his family soon. “This might turn out to be the best thing happened to him,” Mom put aside the letter and smiled. “Ju, sometimes a bad thing will lead to a number of good things. Do you understand?” Looking at me intently, Mom said. I shook my head. Mom’s words were heard to comprehend, but one thing I knew for sure was that Uncle Ming and Auntie Ming would soon be united. That was good news. “Oh, here’s something for you from him,” Mom fished out a little pink box from the box and handed to me. I opened it and found the most beautiful thing I had ever seen—a bluish green dragonfly brooch! Its color was like a blue jay’s, its wings thin and translucent, and its eyes two tiny red crystals glistening like rubies. Pressed the brooch in my bosom, I knew that Uncle Ming had forgiven me, I cried as Mom took me in her arms.
At the end of the summer, Mom suggested that we should go to the riverbank for a picnic. She told me to invite Hui and Fang Fang to join us. ”I’m sure that they’d enjoy the outing,” Mom said, smiling amiably.
It was a perfect day for a picnic. The sun was mild, and the wind was soft. “Wind, wind, I need wind for my kite to soar high,” Han chanted while flapping his arms and galloped toward the riverbank, the kite on his shoulder, and its streamers trailing in the back. Except for Little Black, no one was able to catch up with him. Mom placed an oilcloth on a shady spot and spread out the food: pineapple bread, soy-sauce eggs, roasted chicken wings, dried bean curd, and a large watermelon. Cramming an egg in his mouth, Dad wandered off, fishing rod in one hand and water barrel in the other. Sitting around Mom in a circle, Hui, Fang Fang and I watched Han running farther away with his kite struggling up and down in the air. Each time he pulled the kite up; it managed to float in the air for only a minute and then started to plunge down. “Let’s go help him,” Fang Fang put her chicken wing on the oilcloth and stood up.
With our help, the kite finally made to the sky. What a pretty kite! It was made in the shape of a bird with black body, yellow beaked head, two orange striped wings, and green streamers wavering behind for tail. I was proud of my brother for capable of making such a beautiful thing. As the kite flew higher and higher, Han trotted along, his hands gripping tight to the reeling. Little Black chased him in the back, yelping happily, and we ran as fast as we could to catch up. “Ai Yo!” Han cried out as the kite somersaulted in the air a few times and began to dive down like an injured sparrow. Soon we lost sight of it. “Let’s go find it,” Han shouted and started dashing toward the direction where the kite plunged, and we all followed behind, jabbering and laughing.
Then there were the woods standing ahead in silence. Looking at the clouds brushing camphor trees sprawling in front, I understood that once again, we were facing the same forest that Mei Ling took us before, same woods, but different entrance.
As Tai dashed in the woods like a flash of lightening, Hui and Fang Fang slowed down their pace. Looking at their wary faces, I knew that they also recognized the woods.
“Shall we go back? I’m scared.” Fang Fang shuffled over and asked me.
“Yeah, it does look like the same forest, huh?” Hui turned around and said to me. “What do you think? I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Well, I…I don’t know,” I muttered. I’d like to help Han find his kite, but I also dreaded the consequences. What about the ghosts? What if they arise from the graves and chase after me?
These two girls abandoned me the last time; they probably would do the same thing again. Touching the scar on my finger, I was lost in thoughts.
“What’s going on there? Why did you stop?” Han’s voice rang loud and clear; and I could see his white shirt fluttering somewhere in the darkness. I knew he hadn’t advanced too far ahead.
“Nothing!” I yelled back.
“Hurry up!” Han shouted.
None of us moved. My legs became heavy, like they had grown roots and clutched to the ground.
“Okay, I’m coming,” Han shouted. And before long, he appeared in front of us, panting, sweats streaming down his face, and Little Black stood beside him, waiving his tail. “What’s the matter with you girls?”
“We don’t feel like… looking for the k… kite with you any more,” Digging the ground with the tip of my shoe, I stammered. “We… want to go back.”
“Why?” Cocking his neck, Han looked puzzled, his bushy eyebrows knotted together, which made him look as old as Dad.
“This is the same forest that Mei Ling took us,” Hui said, her metal glass frame reflecting the afternoon sun.
“So?” Han folded his arms on his chest, twiggy legs standing apart. I never realized that he resembled Dad so much.
“There were ghosts somewhere in the woods, and we are scared.” Fang Fang said.
“I’ve never seen a ghost before, and I’d like to see one,” Clapping his hands, Han’s face lit up. “Come on, show me where they are.”
“Aren’t you going to look for your kite?” I asked Han.
“Well, this is far more exciting,’ Han said. “Let’s go! What are we waiting for?”
“Han, I don’t know whether it’s a good idea….” I stammered. “Sitting with Mom and Dad by the river bank is much safer than hunting for ghosts.”
“Ju, we both know that the ghost who has been haunting you is here. If we can track it down and get rid of it once and for all, wouldn’t it be great? “
“Yeah… It’ll be nice. But… how are we going to do it?”
“Look at what I got here,” Han said drawing something from his backpack. It was a round mirror with a tiny crack in the center; and its bronze rim was dull looking and eroded with patina. It was an old, ugly mirror which had seen better days. But it still reflected light. As Han moved his hand this way and that, a round spot light was fluttering everywhere like a flashing butterfly; and Little Black chased after the light in all directions, barking frantically. I thought I had seen the mirror before, but couldn’t recollect where and when.
“So, you brought a mirror, how interesting!” Dazzled by the light, I narrowed my eyes and sneered.
“What would it do? Catch the ghost and kill it?” I was embarrassed that my brother was carrying a mirror with him like a sissy.
“Right on, Ju! It’s indeed a ghost subjugate mirror,” Raising the mirror high in the air, Han laughed. “It’s another treasure that the Taoist monk gave me to bring the ghosts into terms. This mirror can spot anything supernatural, no matter where it’s hiding. And once the ghost’s image is captured in the mirror, I’ll open this thing and suck it in,” Han said, fishing another object out of his backpack. It looked like a small calabash with a cork stopper on top. Twisting the cord, Han opened the calabash and waived it in the air as if he were trying to catch something. Then he quickly snapped the cork back on. “Easy, isn’t it? We’ll catch the ghost just like that. And once it’s inside this thing,” Han said, tapping the gourd and beamed. “It’s trapped forever. You know why? Because the Taoist monk has carved these constraining incantations on it. See here?” Han thrust the calabash under my nose and pointed at the chicken- scratch like tallies to me, looking extremely elated. “And the only person who can remove the spell is the Taoist monk.”
“Han, are you sure they’ll work?” Looking at the broken mirror and the lopsided gourd, I couldn’t help feeling leery. But wait, the gourd looked familiar. Where had I seen it?
“The sword worked, right?” Han asked, and I nodded. “Well, it worked, why wouldn’t the mirror and the gourd? They were all from the Taoist monk, and I can’t see why one thing works and others don’t. Besides, “Han stepped back, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, gazing at me and cackled. “I’m here to protect you.”
“Promise?” Standing side by side with Han, I found him much taller now. No matter how I craned my neck and stretched my back, my head could hardly touch his chin. And he seemed stronger as well. Mom had said that swimming had helped Han putting muscles on his limbs and chest. “Han’s not a scrawny little kid anymore, he’ll be as tall and big as you next year,” Looking at Han coming back from a swim bare-chest one day, Mom had said to Dad.
“I promise,” Han said patting my shoulder, his face was solemn, his voice gentle and sonorous. “Just remember, Ju, I won’t let anything happen to you. Even the sky falls, I’ll support it before it crashes on you.”
“Honestly?”
“Of course! I never kid around, and you know it,” Han said. “Besides, I’m taller than you, and if the sky ever falls down, it’ll hit me first any way.” He let out another cackle.
“Oh, Han, you are impossible!” Though sneering at him, I knew that under his frolicsome shell, there was a truthful spirit that I could always count on when danger was near. “Okay, I’ll go with you, but I don’t know about Hui and Fang Fang.” Looking at my friends, who had been standing by me and listening to our conversation the entire time without uttering a sound, I was hesitant. I needed their support, but I didn’t want to impose danger on either one of them. They were my best friends.
“Why don’t you ask them?” Han turned to face them, smiling.
“Well, what…what do you say?” I stammered. “I…I understand if you don’t want to come along.”
“I’d like to go, but I’m scared. I’d go back to stay with your parents.” Wringing her fingers as if she were weaving an imaginary rubber band, Fang Fang said, lips twitching.
“All right, we’ll see you in a bit,” Han said. Waving her hand, Fang Fang turned around and trudged out of the woods, the pink ribbons on her braids wavering like a butterfly.
“I’ll go with you,”Hui stretched out a hand to hold mine. Her hand was soft and moist, and her skin paper thin; I could feel the warm blood rushing under it.
“Are you sure?” Tightening my grip, I looked at Hui’s eyes through her thick lenses. They were limpid like clear water in the spring creek. I knew she was determined.
“Yes I am!” Hui said laughing, holding my hand firmly and swinging high in the air. “Let’s go!”
As we shambled along, I found the woods much smaller than I had remembered; looking through the camphor tree trunks, I could even see fragments of the grayish walls and the red tile roofs of the school’s temporary houses. And it didn’t seem as dark, either; I could see large blocks of sunlight flickering here and there. Flashing the mirror high in one hand and waiving the calabash in the other, Han was leading the way like a scout who had been in and out of the woods numerous times. And Hui would not let go of my hand while we followed behind. Looking at my brother’s back, touching my friend’s soft hand, and hearing Little Black’s periodic barking, I felt calm and peaceful. Fear had eluded me. Perhaps Mom and Dad had been right all the time, there was no such thing as ghosts, at least not in these woods.
Suddenly, Han stumbled on the ground as if he were tripped by something. As Hui and I ran over, he was clambering up, waving the gourd in his hand, shouting, “I got it, I got it!”
“What did you get? The ghost?” I stared at the calabash, couldn’t believe my ears. Just when I was ready to convince myself that there was no ghost, Han caught one. How strange!
“Of course. What else?” Han grinned like an innocent little boy, flashing his two crooked canine teeth.
“What does it look like?” I’d believe him if his description of the ghost matched mine.
“I only caught a glimpse in the mirror, couldn’t quite remember,” Han said, pointing at somewhere ahead. “It was crouching by the big tree over there.”
Not knowing whether I should believe him, I looked ahead and saw a sheath of sun rays shining on the big patch of swaying weeds the color of my lime-green marble. I recognized the place.
“It’s the clearing!” Hui gasped.
“That’s the place you cut your finger, right?” Han gazed at me solemnly.
Touching the ragged scar on my index finger, I nodded; a chilling sensation crept up my spine like a snake. But the fear soon subsided when I felt the warmth of Han’s arm wrapping around my shoulder, and Hui’s hand patting my back.
“Let’s go take a look,” Han grabbed my hand and started to run, raising the calabash up high like a torch. “Maybe I can catch more ghosts over there.”
“Wait for me!” Hui yelled from behind, trotting to catch up with us.
At first we couldn’t find the hole. But soon Little Black helped discover it under some rotten leaves together with stubs of burnt incense sticks. He barked happily when we patted his head, praising him.
The hole seemed smaller than I had remembered. It was just a tiny little opening on the ground that I could hardly put my fist in.
“I’d say the hole is too small for any ghost to climb out, no matter how skinny he is,” Shaking his head, Han said. Then he squatted down, poking a twig in the hole and fished out a leaf, a few strands of hair sticking on top of it. “Your hair?” Han asked me; and I nodded. He threw the twig aside and sighed. “It’s way too shallow, too. The Taoist monk would laugh to death if he happens to see this hole. According to him, the size of the hole needs to be at least ten times bigger for a ghost to come out. Mei Ling simple blew it. “
“How do you explain about the missing food if the ghosts didn’t eat them?” Hui asked. She was right; I couldn’t find any trace of food on the ground, no candy, no sesame cookies, not even a cookie crumb.
“Well, do you think those little creatures will sit around and watch the food rot?” Picking up the twig from the ground, Han pointed at the birds flitting from one branch to another, laughing.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, the birds ate them all.” I agreed. It was the most logical explanation.
“Well, let me check around and see whether there’s any ghost here.” Han stood up and began to circle around the clearing, flashing the mirror this way and that.
“Han, give me the mirror.” I walked toward Han, stretching out my hand.
“Why?” Clutching the mirror and calabash to his bosom, Han frowned.
“Han, you don’t need to play this game for my sake any more, because I understand that there is no ghost here or anywhere else in the world, just like Mom and Dad have said.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.” Han shook his head, looking more perplexed than ever.
“Han, I know that Mom, Dad, Fang Fang, Hui, and you have worked hard together to put out this show for me, trying to make believe that you’ve caught the ghost, so that I won’t have any more nightmares again. Is it right?”
“How on earth did you find out?” Han’s jaw dropped, eyes widened.
“Well, the mirror looked awfully familiar when you first showed it to me. And just a minute ago, it dawned on me that it was Mom’s old mirror. You didn’t get it from the Taoist monk, if there is such a person. As for the calabash --- “ Looking at Hui sideways, I stopped.
“What about it?” Hui asked smiling, as if encouraging me to continue.
“It belongs to your family, Hui. I saw it once in your bathroom as a flower vase; and Han just carved the chicken- scratch tallies on it, claiming it’s from his Taoist friend.”
Han blushed. He started to kick the incense sticks like punting a ball, which soon fell on the ground and disappeared in the heap of falling leaves. “I guess we can leave now.” Han said putting the mirror and the guard back in his backpack.
“Wait,” I said squatting down, scooping loose soil and fallen leaves to cover the hole. Soon the ground looked as if it had never been disturbed before.
“There,” I stood up patting dirt off my hands. “Now the ghost in my head is gone!”
“You can say that again.” It was Dad’s voice. I looked back and found Mom, Dad, and Fang Fang standing behind us, smiling. Mom patted my head and said, “Yes, it’s gone forever, just like--,” “My kite,” Han said winking at Mom and Dad. Then he began to roar as loud as ever, and Little Black barked happily as if echoing him.
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