When the Sea Turned to Silver
Page 10
“We can’t afford to lose one grain now,” Suya said to her. “After this is gone, we will have nothing.”
“I wish I could give you the magic red stone,” Pinmei said without thinking.
“Magic red stone?” Suya said.
“Oh, nothing,” Pinmei said, her throat tightening. She felt her words begin to hide, as if scurrying to the hole in the floor.
“Too bad. It sounded like something from a story,” Suya said with a wry smile. “We could use one. Sifen loves stories.”
“Yes, I do!” Sifen said, overhearing their conversation. “Especially these days, when I would do anything to think of something other than this.” He motioned to his bandaged legs and grimaced. “Come, Storyteller’s granddaughter! Do you have a story to share?”
Pinmei opened her mouth, but no sound came out. A stone of ice began to grow in her throat, and she clutched at the jade bracelet. How she wished Amah were here! Amah would tell these people a story; her safe, soothing voice would wrap them in a warm blanket. Pinmei felt a longing wash over her, and she shook her head.
“Yes, you do!” Yishan said in his scoffing tone. “Pinmei, you know every story Amah has ever told.”
Pinmei felt everyone’s eyes on her, and the stone in her throat grew and pushed against her lungs and heart. She tried to gulp, but the air seemed to have turned solid. Amah! Pinmei thought desperately. I need you! Blindly, she turned to run from the room in panic.
But a hot hand grabbed hers. Pinmei looked down to see Sifen gazing up at her, the lines on his face painting a picture of his pain.
“Please,” he said. “Please, tell me a story.”
The heat of his hand traveled up her arm, and the ice inside her began to melt. Amah is not here, Pinmei thought. There’s only me. She looked again at Sifen’s pleading eyes and swallowed. When it is time for you to do something, you will do it. Amah’s words echoed, untying and smoothing the knotted string of Pinmei’s voice. Slowly, Pinmei nodded. Then she took a deep breath, and, with a whisper, she started the story.
After Nuwa, the goddess with the fish tail, mended the sky, there were still many problems. The sea overflowed with water from the Starry River of the Sky and churned with monstrous beasts. The waters were in complete chaos.
At that time, there was a young boy named Ku-Ang. His father had been a fisherman, so the sea’s transformation was devastating to them. What had once been home was now a place of peril and the family was poverty stricken.
To help, Ku-Ang gathered firewood to sell to other villagers.
One day, while collecting wood, Ku-Ang saw something red glittering on the ground. Curious, he picked it up. It was a red stone.
It was small and round and smooth, and while it did not glow, it was so shiny Ku-Ang could see himself reflected in it.
It was rather pretty, so Ku-Ang thought he would give it to his mother. He put it in his lunch bag and continued to gather wood.
However, at lunchtime, there were two dumplings in his bag instead of one. Ku-Ang scratched his head. He was sure there had only been one dumpling in the morning. Had the stone done something?
When he returned home that evening, instead of giving the stone to his mother as he had planned, he slipped it into the half-empty rice jar.
The next morning, before his parents awoke, Ku-Ang peeked into the rice jar. The jar was full!
“It was the stone!” Ku-Ang said. Laughing, he called out to his family.
But after Ku-Ang told his story, his father shook his head.
“That stone does not belong to us,” he said. “You must return it to where you found it.”
Ashamed, Ku-Ang returned to the mountain forest. When he arrived at the place where he had found the stone, he saw an old man sitting as if waiting for him.
“Was this your stone?” Ku-Ang asked as he bowed and offered the stone.
“There are three things of Nuwa left here on earth,” the old man said, ignoring Ku-Ang’s question. “A tear, a strand of hair, and a drop of blood. You are holding the drop of blood.”
Ku-Ang gasped and dropped the red stone in the old man’s lap. The old man looked into Ku-Ang’s eyes.
“If you are pure of heart,” the old man said, “this stone will bring the Sea King to calm the waters.”
The Sea King? Ku-Ang’s eyes widened. If the Sea King could calm the waters, the monsters would stop coming to shore. People would not live in fear and his father could fish again. The world could return to normal.
“But to find him,” the old man said, placing the stone back in Ku-Ang’s hand, “you must bring the stone safely to the top of the mountain north of the village.”
Ku-Ang gulped. No one went to the Northern Mountain. Evil beasts plagued the way. But to have a Sea King! Ku-Ang turned and began to make his way to the Northern Mountain.
To get to the Northern Mountain, Ku-Ang had to cross the abandoned Black Bridge. As he stepped onto it, a monstrous snake sprang from the water, and Ku-Ang saw horrible, sharp teeth coming toward him. But right before they snapped upon him, the snake caught sight of Ku-Ang’s prize.
“The red stone!” it hissed. “You wish to go to the Northern Mountain?”
“Yes,” Ku-Ang said, his head high even though his legs trembled.
“Do you know horrible Haiyi?” the evil creature asked.
Horrible Haiyi? He was the wicked bully of the village. Ku-Ang knew Haiyi and his cruelty all too well.
“Yes.” Ku-Ang nodded.
“I will let you pass if you agree to bring me the ears of horrible Haiyi’s old mother,” the enormous snake hissed. “Or I will kill you right now!”
“Never!” Ku-Ang shouted instantly. “I have my own mother, and I will never harm another’s!”
“Then die!” the snake hissed, and it seized Ku-Ang with its knifelike teeth, lifted him up into the sky, and flung him away with all its might.
Ku-Ang landed painfully on the ground, across the lake, bleeding and gasping. But the stone was still in his hand, so he pushed himself up and began to stagger toward the Northern Mountain. He had only made it halfway across the plain when a large black shadow began to circle around him. Clutching his injured side, he looked up.
Above him was a gigantic, vile bird, green poison shining on its feathers. With a horrible shriek, it landed in front of Ku-Ang, its foul smell making him flinch.
“I wish I could give you the magic red stone,” Pinmei said without thinking.
“Magic red stone?” Suya said.
“Oh, nothing,” Pinmei said, her throat tightening. She felt her words begin to hide, as if scurrying to the hole in the floor.
“Too bad. It sounded like something from a story,” Suya said with a wry smile. “We could use one. Sifen loves stories.”
“Yes, I do!” Sifen said, overhearing their conversation. “Especially these days, when I would do anything to think of something other than this.” He motioned to his bandaged legs and grimaced. “Come, Storyteller’s granddaughter! Do you have a story to share?”
Pinmei opened her mouth, but no sound came out. A stone of ice began to grow in her throat, and she clutched at the jade bracelet. How she wished Amah were here! Amah would tell these people a story; her safe, soothing voice would wrap them in a warm blanket. Pinmei felt a longing wash over her, and she shook her head.
“Yes, you do!” Yishan said in his scoffing tone. “Pinmei, you know every story Amah has ever told.”
Pinmei felt everyone’s eyes on her, and the stone in her throat grew and pushed against her lungs and heart. She tried to gulp, but the air seemed to have turned solid. Amah! Pinmei thought desperately. I need you! Blindly, she turned to run from the room in panic.
But a hot hand grabbed hers. Pinmei looked down to see Sifen gazing up at her, the lines on his face painting a picture of his pain.
“Please,” he said. “Please, tell me a story.”
The heat of his hand traveled up her arm, and the ice inside her began to melt. Amah is not here, Pinmei thought. There’s only me. She looked again at Sifen’s pleading eyes and swallowed. When it is time for you to do something, you will do it. Amah’s words echoed, untying and smoothing the knotted string of Pinmei’s voice. Slowly, Pinmei nodded. Then she took a deep breath, and, with a whisper, she started the story.
After Nuwa, the goddess with the fish tail, mended the sky, there were still many problems. The sea overflowed with water from the Starry River of the Sky and churned with monstrous beasts. The waters were in complete chaos.
At that time, there was a young boy named Ku-Ang. His father had been a fisherman, so the sea’s transformation was devastating to them. What had once been home was now a place of peril and the family was poverty stricken.
To help, Ku-Ang gathered firewood to sell to other villagers.
One day, while collecting wood, Ku-Ang saw something red glittering on the ground. Curious, he picked it up. It was a red stone.
It was small and round and smooth, and while it did not glow, it was so shiny Ku-Ang could see himself reflected in it.
It was rather pretty, so Ku-Ang thought he would give it to his mother. He put it in his lunch bag and continued to gather wood.
However, at lunchtime, there were two dumplings in his bag instead of one. Ku-Ang scratched his head. He was sure there had only been one dumpling in the morning. Had the stone done something?
When he returned home that evening, instead of giving the stone to his mother as he had planned, he slipped it into the half-empty rice jar.
The next morning, before his parents awoke, Ku-Ang peeked into the rice jar. The jar was full!
“It was the stone!” Ku-Ang said. Laughing, he called out to his family.
But after Ku-Ang told his story, his father shook his head.
“That stone does not belong to us,” he said. “You must return it to where you found it.”
Ashamed, Ku-Ang returned to the mountain forest. When he arrived at the place where he had found the stone, he saw an old man sitting as if waiting for him.
“Was this your stone?” Ku-Ang asked as he bowed and offered the stone.
“There are three things of Nuwa left here on earth,” the old man said, ignoring Ku-Ang’s question. “A tear, a strand of hair, and a drop of blood. You are holding the drop of blood.”
Ku-Ang gasped and dropped the red stone in the old man’s lap. The old man looked into Ku-Ang’s eyes.
“If you are pure of heart,” the old man said, “this stone will bring the Sea King to calm the waters.”
The Sea King? Ku-Ang’s eyes widened. If the Sea King could calm the waters, the monsters would stop coming to shore. People would not live in fear and his father could fish again. The world could return to normal.
“But to find him,” the old man said, placing the stone back in Ku-Ang’s hand, “you must bring the stone safely to the top of the mountain north of the village.”
Ku-Ang gulped. No one went to the Northern Mountain. Evil beasts plagued the way. But to have a Sea King! Ku-Ang turned and began to make his way to the Northern Mountain.
To get to the Northern Mountain, Ku-Ang had to cross the abandoned Black Bridge. As he stepped onto it, a monstrous snake sprang from the water, and Ku-Ang saw horrible, sharp teeth coming toward him. But right before they snapped upon him, the snake caught sight of Ku-Ang’s prize.
“The red stone!” it hissed. “You wish to go to the Northern Mountain?”
“Yes,” Ku-Ang said, his head high even though his legs trembled.
“Do you know horrible Haiyi?” the evil creature asked.
Horrible Haiyi? He was the wicked bully of the village. Ku-Ang knew Haiyi and his cruelty all too well.
“Yes.” Ku-Ang nodded.
“I will let you pass if you agree to bring me the ears of horrible Haiyi’s old mother,” the enormous snake hissed. “Or I will kill you right now!”
“Never!” Ku-Ang shouted instantly. “I have my own mother, and I will never harm another’s!”
“Then die!” the snake hissed, and it seized Ku-Ang with its knifelike teeth, lifted him up into the sky, and flung him away with all its might.
Ku-Ang landed painfully on the ground, across the lake, bleeding and gasping. But the stone was still in his hand, so he pushed himself up and began to stagger toward the Northern Mountain. He had only made it halfway across the plain when a large black shadow began to circle around him. Clutching his injured side, he looked up.
Above him was a gigantic, vile bird, green poison shining on its feathers. With a horrible shriek, it landed in front of Ku-Ang, its foul smell making him flinch.
