The Antique

Home > Other > The Antique > Page 49
The Antique Page 49

by Peter Fang


  The spider wiggled its limp arms at Ansen.

  “Forgive me, please,” Ansen whimpered.

  The white spider hopped over the sheet, got in closer, and then bit his lips, spinning a thread of web before floating away into the ceiling.

  Ansen looked up and saw a fading image of Maria, waving him goodbye. Ansen smiled back, raised his arm, and waved back. He felt a tightness in his chest, then a sharp pain. Moments later, his pupils dilated, and he ceded a long breath.

  Ansen felt he was awake, but knew he was still in a dream. He saw Maria as he passed her by outside the hospital. He could neither speak nor move. It was pouring rain outside, and soon he got lower to the ground, and then he went under. A dark beast behind him was devouring his thoughts. He could feel its hot breath but could not turn to face it. The more Ansen tried to stop it, the more his memories slipped away. Soon, the dark beast caught up.

  Horrified of bleeding out his memories, he tried to repeat his name. “I’m Ansen Yang—I’m Ansen, I’m—”

  The dark beast swallowed him.

  When he awoke, there was a spiral pain corking through his body; his entire body was covered in slime. He struggled to move because something had itself wrapped around him. He tried to break free by wiggling his body; after several attempts, his body broke free from the tight space with a sucking sound. Ansen opened his eyes and saw a toad’s face staring back at him. He wailed loudly as the toad shook him loose from an eggshell.

  The toad chuckled. “Hey, would you look at this! The new grub mother didn’t waste time giving birth to our dinner. Check it out!”

  A serpent heard the toad and slithered over. “I think mine is bigger—”

  “Says you!” the toad puffed. “Just look at the fat face of my grub. This one is extra juicy—rejoice, rejoice, rejoice! This is just in time for our Yhawri's ceremony banquet.”

  A block away, a white Chevy van was idling next to a decrepit phone booth. The phone booth’s glass windows were shattered and the phone inside was missing. Rain was pouring from the inky sky.

  Maria leaned against the van and let the raindrops tap dance on her raincoat.

  She felt the white spider leaving the hospital room. Maria opened her palm; the white spider floated down and melted into her palm.

  “See you in our next life, Ansen,” whispered Maria. She took a deep breath and then ducked into the passenger’s seat.

  “Gone?” asked Koda.

  Maria nodded quietly.

  “It was nice of you to do that, so he doesn’t end up like Gretchen inside Lão Chóng.” Koda shivered at the thought of being trapped inside that worm.

  I hope that Queen will not trap Ansen’s soul inside Lāo Chóng, Maria thought to herself.

  “We never know when our life will end. How much time do I have left?” Koda asked.

  Maria looked at him and saw things beneath his skin––his face was already showing signs of deterioration.

  “It's best not to know,” Maria replied.

  Koda look into the distance. “Where to?”

  “Queen felt a ripple coming from that Shao monk, and then there was an echo. The echo pointed us to southeast, perhaps New Orleans. Someone there may know where the other boxes are. But if we don’t find the person, it could be decades or hundreds of years between ripples.”

  “Ripple?” asked Koda.

  Maria nodded. “Yes, ripple. It’s an image and feeling Queen gets when a soul get sent back in time by our artifacts. The soul always gets sent back to the same spot, but it alters the course after. This creates a ripple that Queen could feel. A ripple sometimes creates echos from a location in the present time, and that is where we need to go.”

  “—alters the course.” Koda let the phrase sink in. “So, this could potentially change everything, and my wife and kid could be alive?”

  Maria replied, “Yes, it could—but it never does. Queen has been trying this for hundreds of years.”

  “So, Shao is dead?”

  “Not sure; sometimes the ripple could happen right before the event. It doesn’t always happen in sequence.”

  “You know, it’s easier if we just read each other’s minds, right?” Koda reminded her, as if she forgot that the two of them could communicate telepathically.

  “I’m just following Queen’s order. She’s resting and doesn’t want to listen to our minds, so we just talk.”

  Koda nodded. “You are right, so you have no idea what I’m thinking about right now.”

  “What’s for dinner?” Maria smiled.

  “I still don’t know the queen’s name. Do you know?” asked Koda.

  Maria shook her head. “No one knows, but I learned that it’s not something to be told. Once uttered…it’s best that we never find out. What else do you want to know?”

  “I’m wondering where are the remaining two boxes are. You said there are two left.” Koda looked out the window, checking to see if anyone was nearby.

  “We don’t know where the other boxes are. An echo tells Queen where to go but nothing else, so we have to travel there, lay down traps, infect humans, and create a colony of proxies to locate our next target. All this to help us find out what or who created the echo. This thing in New Orleans may know the location of our boxes, or it could be an enemy we need to eliminate. It’s been a while since our Queen visited New Orleans, so this will be interesting. There are only a few of the infected left in New Orleans. We will have to re-establish a colony if something significant turns up.”

  Maria cradled a wooden container that had three wooden boxes surrounding the queen’s golden box. Long nails and tentacles extended out from the three wooden boxes and gently stroked the queen. Maria caressed the boxes with infinite care as if they were her children. She nodded imperceptibly as she whispered to the boxes with a spell to help the queen regain her strength.

  Koda let out a long sigh. “I have so much to learn. Now which way to go?” The left road would take them onto I-5 North, the right to I-90 East.

  Maria felt a pinch on her hand from the queen. “She wants us to take I-90. It’s a long way to New Orleans.”

  “What about Blair, the assassin?” Koda recalled the name. “We are going to let him go?”

  “He is a descendant from a horseman that hid the queen’s ashes. He inherited the ability to annihilate us with the right weapon. I felt it when he shot me with his gun. If the bullets were tipped with the right spell, then I wouldn’t be here talking to you.”

  “Really? I would love to track him down one day,” said Koda.

  “You will—” said Maria.

  Koda made a right turn, but an old, decrepit homeless woman was crossing the street. Her body was covered with layers of worn-out clothes of different sizes and colors. She was pushing a shopping cart filled with random street items of all sorts.

  “Queen says to bring her with us,” Maria said dryly. The pricks on her hand got more insistent. “Feels like Queen wants to administer her some spells. Queen would like to offer her another chance to have a meaningful life.”

  Koda snickered. “A new meaningful life? You mean she will be the seed for our new brood in New Orleans.”

  Maria peered absently into the distance.

  Koda tossed her a look. “Why so glum?”

  “I am thinking about my sister.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “I was too young to remember. My foster parents told me her name was Zaele, but I found out that was a fake name. They told me she saved me from drowning once but died of illness. In my dreams, there was this beautiful, Chinese dollhouse room where she visits me, but I could never see her face. I think her spirit is still around to protect me.”

  Maria suddenly thought about something and said, “I had a familiar, but weird feeling with that girl, Elise—”

  Koda put the car in park and said, “Perhaps you could ask the queen to connect with her spirit.”

  “Perhaps one day, but sometimes memories are best kept u
ndisturbed.” Maria got out of the car and ambled towards the street lady.

  Koda thought, Perhaps for you, but not for my family. One day I will see them again.

  Miles away, a ripple beckoned from Shao’s house.

  38

  In the Witch’s Care

  Shao was in his dining room when he heard the noise; it sounded like a song outside his window. The tune was familiar, yet he could not recall where he heard it from. The song persisted, and it was coming from his study room, where the large parchment still laid on the large drafting table. He got up from his chair and walked next door to the study room, but no one was there. An orange blur ran across the hallway and into the study room.

  Was that a cat? Who left the back door open? Shao quickly walked over to the front entrance, but the door was closed. He heard the song again, and this time it was almost like someone weeping.

  Must be a runaway. Shao picked up a nearby broom and walked slowly to the study room and poked his head inside.

  “Hello? Who’s there? You better come out. I’m about to call the police.”

  “Ah-Dai,” someone whispered Shao’s nickname. It was a derogatory name given to him by his grade school classmates. He had never told anyone except to his parents.

  He listened carefully and it came again.

  “Ah-Dai, come in.” This time there was no mistaking it. It sounded like someone was inside the room and against the wall. But there was no one there except a picture frame of his parents.

  He walked closer to the picture and saw nothing unusual about the item; then he heard the voice again, and it sounded like his mother. He turned and saw his mother standing across the table, smiling at him. She was so young, maybe in her thirties. Until that moment, Shao only remembered her mother in her final years—she was stripped of any vitality after dementia took her mind away. Yet, she was standing there, looking young, vibrant, and beautiful—an image he could only recall from family picture albums. He reached out to her. Dao’s arms reached across the leather parchment on the drafting table, and then something from the parchment reached out and grabbed him. Shao tried to pull back, but it was too late. It wrapped him in its center, tighter, then tighter. He lost his footing and fell to the ground.

  There was that song again; it was a lullaby that his mother sang to him when he was a child. The melody was so endearing that he couldn’t stay awake.

  Shao saw himself waking up in the middle of the night, but he was in a boy’s body. It was late fall and chilly outside. It was past his bedtime, and his dad would be mad at him for getting out of his bed. But the air inside his bedroom was stifling, and the caregivers were sick that day, so no one was in his room to watch him. He wanted to sneak out of the place to play in the dunes, where the rest of his childhood friends would congregate at night. He got out of his bed, listening carefully for footsteps outside of the wooden hallway to make sure no one was there. He slowly slid the door open and poked his head out. First to the left, then to his right––good, no one was there.

  He slowly got out of the room, closed the door behind him, and dashed out of his room. He counted in his head and leaped over a long wooden rail, then ducked under a bush before two guards appeared around the corner. He waited until the guards passed across the other side of the compound; then he ran across the street under the moonlight and reached the barracks. His parents forbade him from going there after dark, but he had done it many times and never got caught. He headed for where the laughter was and made it over a small bridge. But as he approached, he saw five guards blocking the alleyway. They were all engrossed in a gambling game on the ground and did not bother to look up at Shao. He made a corner turn and hid behind a shadow so no one could see him. It was annoying because that was the quickest way to the dune, but now the passage was not going to open for god knew how long. If he got closer, one of the guards would surely look up and recognize him––the Lord’s son, his only son. There was that laughter again from his friends, but this time he could hear the girls laughing, too. He knew there was another way around to get to the dune, but he had to get outside of the village’s walls and re-enter from another spot.

  People said ghosts were hunting there at night, so no one ever ventured out there. Shao didn’t believe any of that nonsense, and he had successfully done it a few times when someone dared him at night. Except for some snakes and toads, he had never seen anything out there. He decided that he would make the detour again tonight, and this time he might stop and catch a toad or two to scare the girls. A smile broke across his face as he slowly made his way to the compound’s fence. He reached the fence and found the place where the kids dug a tunnel under the fence. A wooden post’s base had rotted out to make just enough space for a small child to squeeze through. He stared to crawl inside the hole and realized that he didn’t quite fit anymore. Not giving up, he forced himself through and could hear his clothes rip as he broke free. Shit, Mom is going to kill me for this. Well, it didn’t matter; he would find a good reason and maybe blame it on one of the servants for tearing the cloth. No one would get executed. He stood up and hugged the wall as he made his way around the perimeters. There were guards up on the tower, so it was best to be cautious. One mistake and the guard might rain arrows in his way.

  As he crossed a small brook, he heard the unmistakable deep croaks of the bullfrogs. Those were especially wary of humans and would leap at the first sign of danger, but Shao knew how to catch them. Shao waited until he could see the moonlight peeking out from the drifting clouds.There were numerous other smaller frogs nearby for him to catch. He hooked a leopard frog with a fishhook and waited for the bullfrog to croak again. Soon, a giant bullfrog about ten feet away started to croak. Shao smiled and slowly swung the leopard frog over. The leopard frog landed about five inches from the bullfrog and immediately thrashed about. The bullfrog quickly bit down on the leopard frog and tried to devour it whole. Shao yanked back the stick and set the hook.

  The large bullfrog tried to fight off the hook, but it was too late. Shao almost lost control of the stick as he reeled in the giant bullfrog. Finally, he had his hand on the large bullfrog. He smiled and turned to make his way back to the wall, but he heard a low growl; it was the unmistakable sound of a tiger. Before Shao could react, a large shadow appeared and knocked him down to the ground. He whimpered in pain and tried to cry for help. The tiger grabbed him with its paws and bit down on his head. Shao could hear the crunching sound scraping against his skull. He screamed again, and this time he could not even recognize his own voice. He heard men in the tower starting to yell; guards alarmed the compound with gongs; spots of torches dotted across the top of the wall as more men gathered.

  One of the men yelled, “There! A tiger’s got someone down there!” Then more gongs went off, and more men started to shout at the tiger. Shao screamed, but it was too late. The large tiger carried Shao off into the dark.

  Shao shouted, “Help! Get my dad! Help! My name is Wu Lian. Wu Lian!” His voice was filled with fear and distress.

  The men lowered a torch with a long pole to get a better view; the flickering amber cast a bouncing shadow against the kid and the tiger down below. “Alert the lord now! A tiger has taken the lord’s son, Wu Lian! Hurry!” Two archers aimed at the tiger and fired two arrows at the beast. One of the arrows landed in the tiger’s hind leg. The tiger growled but didn’t let go of Shao.

  A tall man with a torch yelled at the archers, “Stop you idiot! You will kill Wu Lian!”

  Shao saw his vision blur and the torches’ dots slowly faded away behind the dense forest. As he lost consciousness, he remembered his mother told him that the deep forest was home to a witch who shape-shifted into a tiger to take the children away at night. He recalled the rest of the kids all bought into the idea, but he always knew it was just a way for the parents to control their disobedient offspring.

  Wu Lian never believed there was a tiger jing—until now. The tiger’s jaws pushed down on his windpipe, restricting h
is ability to cry out for help. He wondered where his mother was; perhaps she was scuttling about looking for him. His friends’ faces flashed before his eyes, and Wu Lian wondered if this were the way he would die.

  The tiger’s breathing got heavier as he reached the edge of the forest. He stopped next to a large tree and turned to check if humans were pursuing him. He saw the village had sprung into a frenzy. It was the third victim he had taken in the last several months, and this was the first time he had triggered an alarm. Instinctively, he knew his life was threatened; somehow, the small prey in his mouth felt like trouble, but his hunger for revenge prevented him from leaving the boy. The wound on his leg was starting to bother him more, and he paused to catch his breath before heading back into the forest.

  The tiger’s hot breath kept Wu Lian awake. Strangely, he felt no more pain, and it was eerily peaceful. The tiger’s prickly fur poked at his skin; it triggered his memories from another world—a Dao monk named, “Shao,” and a lady named, “Gretchen.” That was a world he didn’t understand, and yet it was so familiar. Wu Lian felt a kinship with Shao in an odd, warm, reminiscent way.

  The forest stirred; a breeze swept by, carrying a verse with syllabic names: “Fei-Fei, June, Elise, Maria, Abram—” Each name conjured up a hypnotic image of the face behind it. The names bore inexplicable pain; then he blacked out.

  When Wu Lien opened his eyes again, he saw a woman looking down at him. Her stares bore the weight of life. He had never seen her before, but somehow, he knew it was the witch. There was an old scar running down her left cheek. He wanted to say something to her, but he could only say the word “Abram.” The witch said something back to him, but he couldn’t hear anything. He felt cold but peaceful—all the pains from people’s faces had subsided. His gaze reached upwards, passing the tall bamboo trees around him, and then he closed his eyes for the last time.

  Zi-Ling repeated, “Abram?” When she looked at the boy again, there was only a blank stare on his face. She sensed his spirit passing her and it left a sweet, peaceful taste in her mouth.

 

‹ Prev