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Published at 6th of November 2018 12:15:34 PM


Chapter 8

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Chapter 8 Let the Ghosts Go
When the bus entered our village I could hardly see, smell, or feel my mother’s hands against my skin. I couldn’t fathom and cannot remember what would happen next. However, my mom has told me everything in the many years since.

When we arrived back from the hospital my mom, hugging and carrying me, ran out of the bus. She rushed us through the village and into our house, leaving behind a trail of panic and gawkers. Villagers clamored uselessly at us because I had begun to foam at the mouth. My eyes had rolled back exposing sickeningly discolored whites of my eyes and my whole body was shaking.

Mom was crying, panting, and screaming for help with my quivering body in her arms. She comforted me between sobs, "Good boy, Xiao Yong, don't panic! Mommy is here. Nothing can take you away from me."

I am told that she was crying hysterically.

I don’t believe that she could see Uncle Sun or Xiao Chun’s mother escorting us like a parade of death from the bus stop to our house. If she could have seen them, I think she would have seen a little boy gliding beside them.

My father and the Village Head had been waiting for us at the house. My dad came out to welcome us as soon as he heard my mother's cries. He was shocked at my condition.

"Why didn’t you stay at the hospital? Look at him! He’s dying!”

"Our son is not ill!” She cried, brushing past him towards the house. “He’s met the dead. I know how it must sound, but a man on the bus confirmed it. Xiao Yong responds to me in a voice I can tell is not his own! Who is controlling our boy’s body? Someone has taken our Xiao Yong!”

My father was a teacher and he’d never had room for superstition. He raised his voice to contradict my mother as she brushed past him. However, Zhao Jie’s father interrupted him before he could begin, “Mr. Shi, your wife might be right. Xiao Yong might have encountered a ghost."

Our Village Head chimed in as well, "Mr. Shi, I may be a realist, but not all of the tales left by our ancestors are wrong. Listen to the man."

My body twisted and convulsed in my mother’s arms while the men of the village traded philosophies.

“Do something!” My mother screamed at them. “Do what the ancestors did, follow the master’s wisdom!”

Zhao Jie’s father was the first to take action. “Take him to the bed,” He ordered, “Then get some wood ashes and clean water. “You,” He pointed to my father, “Gather all of the incense and candles from the house and bring them to the bedroom.”

"Village Head,” He turned to the elder, “Please call Granny Hong Rong. She can perform religious rites and is infamous in our village. I can't handle this situation alone. My master has told me about the ghosts, but I have never dealt with a situation like this before."

In a whirlwind everyone moved to action at once.

Granny Hong Rong was a relative stranger to our village. She had remarried into our community only a few years before. All of the villagers said she was an eccentric dissolute person. She was known for having betrayed her husband to take another lover, something that people did not do in those times.

Many say she was a witch, that she performed religious rites near our village. Regardless, I had never heard that she could catch ghosts. The Village Head hesitated at the unorthodox request.

“Granny Hong Rong? I don’t believe she is the help that we need today. This is a spiritual manner, for decent people!”

Zhao Jie’s father hurriedly urged, "Whether or not she is capable or decent, someone who performs religious rites is what we need for Xiao Yong!”

With a stern look the Village Head turned around to summon Granny Hong Rong. “I hope you are right.” He muttered.

Zhao Jie’s father rushed into the house. “Scatter ashes beside the bed,” Zhao Jie’s father told my parents, “Make a gap about half a meter for the incense and candles.”

My best friend’s father ordered my parents to move back and poured fresh spring water to co-mingle between the candles and incense. It flowed slowly towards the wood ash scattered around the bed, but stopped miraculously just before turning into a dirty soup around my still quaking body.

He turned to my parents and began, "You know that I left the village many years ago. I left to learn the ways of Taoism. After months of trying, my teacher said I had no talent so I came back to village. I cannot promise you successful rites.” My father raised a hand to interrupt, but Zhao Jie’s father continued with force, “Nevertheless, there is no one else versed in our village and there is no time! Water from afar won't quench a fire nearby. I will try. If I fail, please don't blame me."

My mom cried, "Zhao Laohei, stop this nonsense! Hurry! Our Xiao Yong is dying."

Zhao Laohei took a deep breath, saying "This kind of rite focuses on time. If the ghost doesn’t move, I won’t be able to do anything. He pulled a yellow paper amulet and a yellow priest frock from one pocket. He looked sheepishly at my parents and drew a peach-wood sword from another deep pocket.

"I never thought that I’d have an opportunity to use these."

He placed a yellow paper amulet on my chest. When it touched my skin I began to shake harder, like I was being struck by lightening again and again. Jaws that had been clenched tightly shut now opened and a scream cut into the air.

The voice was sharp and not my own. It was described as the cry of a man who was no longer a man.

“What is it doing to him?” My mother cried at him.

Zhao Laohei called over my screams, "It is a paper amulet of safety! It is meant to protect the real him. It will ward away the ghosts! This amulet is stronger than common ones. It was crafted by my master!" His voice was barely audible above the scream, which had dropped in tone into a guttural growl.

"Oh." She said simply, and continued to watch Zhao Laohei in horror and fascination.

He looked almost relieved at the change in the scream. “It is working.” He murmured. He took out a second one and then began to chant in front of the pot of fresh water, the candles and the incense. The sword was held firmly in his right hand, amulet in his left.

After three or four minutes, he raised his hand to put the yellow paper amulet into the iron pot of water before him.

The peach wood sword in his hand touched the clean water gingerly. The clean water rippled away from the blade as if it were smoldering.

Zhao Laohei’s face concentrated and became serious. Sweat ran down his forehead in great drops. My mother reached for him to give him a towel.

"Stay back." He said, not taking his eyes from the sword.

She fell back several steps.

My father stopped her, hissing, "Don't interrupt him! It’s working."

She bit her lip and kept silent.

After one minute, the ripples on the clean water in front of Zhao Laohei had become a spray of heated mist. It appeared that the water was boiling. Great bounds of water splashed in havoc, but never spilled from the pot.

Zhao Laohei began to step strategically around the pot. “Conjure footwork,” he called back to my parents. After several steps he called again, "Ghosts have different ways than us.”

He directed his voice towards my jerking body, “Why do you bother a child? Leave the boy be and enter into the soul binding amulet! I will let you go peacefully and it will not be painful.” Nothing happened.

“If you resist I will take your soul and scatter it with ashes! You will be gone for good!"

Zhao Laohei spoke in a smooth calm manner. He mimicked his master’s style.

The door to our house crashed open and three people rushed inside: the Village Head, Granny Hong Rong, and the fool Xiao Chun.

My mother gasped in shock at seeing the Village Head consorting with Granny Hong Rong, but it slipped from her mind’s focus almost instantly.

She confronted the odd trio, “Why is Xiao Chun here? What can he do?”

They didn’t have time to stop what happened next.

Xiao Chun, crazed with emotion that he had never shown before, rushed into the house and barreled past my parents. Zhao Laohei, too focused on the ritual at hand was defenseless against the distressed fool. Xiao Chun turned over that pot filled with water with one flailing hand and attacked Zhao Laohei. The previously turbulent water went everywhere. The yellow paper amulet became wet, and candles were scattered.

A cold wind stirred as if from nowhere, blowing through my bedroom and filling the room with heinous screams. The fire that had been burning in the hearth swayed ferociously and then went dark. Xiao Chun turned abruptly and ran from the house.

Zhao Laohei rounded on the Village Head and Granny Hong Rong, "Why did you bring him here to destroy my rites? The ghost afflicting this boy is Xiao Chun’s mother! Didn’t you see her?” He screamed and pointed to the overturned pot of water. “If she comes back there is nothing I can do without my master’s amulet."

Zhao Laohei fell silent, huffing and staring at the Village Head and Granny Hong Rong reproachfully.

Granny Hong Rong stood forward, straightening her back so that she came almost to his chin. She looked at him firmly with her sharp old eyes and said, "Zhao Laohei, I brought Xiao Chun here for reasons beyond your understandings.” She rasped at him in a voice deep as a cave and unquestionably resolute. “Now save this child."




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