by Grace Lin
“Yes, another beast,” the girl said. “This is what happened.”
THE STORY THE GIRL TOLD THE GREEN TIGER
Your message to the family caused an uproar. There was great wailing and crying as A-Gong, our grandfather, told us that you demanded two children every month to be sacrificed to you. It was payment for the insult our ancestors caused you, he said, and if we paid, you would leave the rest of the family in peace. It was a high price but we knew, with your immense power and strength, we could not disobey.
So my brother and I chose to be the first two children. As the family wept, my brother and I left our home to go to you. But as we made our way to meet you, an evil beast jumped from the rocks!
He looked like you—only not as strong or as mighty, of course. And he was dark, the color of a night shadow. He roared at us, but as we trembled to the ground I cried out, “Do not eat us, Beast! We belong to the Great Green Tiger!”
And the beast stopped his roar at my words. “Green Tiger?” he growled.
“Yes,” I said. “We are sacrifices for the Great Green Tiger! We are not for you. If you attack us, you will make the mighty Green Tiger angry and he will destroy you!”
“Destroy me? Ha! Ha!” the beast laughed. “The Green Tiger is an old weakling!”
“No,” my brother protested, “the Great Green Tiger is the most powerful beast of all! None can defy him!”
The beast laughed again, “A paper pig is more mighty than the Green Tiger! I will take you, but leave the other for him—pathetic dog that he is.”
“And with that,” the girl said, “he took my brother and dragged him to his cave.”
The girl burst into sobs as Minli stole a glance at the boy. The boy looked a bit sheepish, but again put his finger to his lips for quiet. The tiger growled with impatience.
“As he disappeared he said he said”—the girl swallowed nervously at the Green Tiger’s furious face—“ ‘Tell the Green Tiger that his son, the king, left you out of pity—pity for his poor, feeble father!’ ”
With those words, the Green Tiger roared with such rage that the even the stones seemed to shudder. Minli quaked and the boy held her arm even tighter.
“I can show you his den where he dragged my brother,” the girl quivered.
The tiger nodded at the girl with narrowed eyes seething with fury.
Shaking, the girl got up and began to lead the tiger away from the clearing. Minli, with the boy beckoning, silently followed.
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Minli and the boy followed from a distance, past sharp rocks and jutting boulders. The girl finally stopped in another clearing. It was only when Minli and the boy pressed up behind one of the rocks that she realized it was once a stone carving and the clearing was the ruin of an abandoned house, now mostly worn away by the wind.
“Here,” the girl said. “The beast dragged my brother into that cave!” She pointed to a strange hole in the ground.
Minli scarcely recognized it as a large abandoned well. The rocks around the opening were rough and cracked; and a ripped piece of red fabric lay torn on one of the sharp stones. Minli looked at the boy and saw his ripped pants. He smirked.
“The beast… your son”—the girl faltered—“is in there! He also said…”
The tiger growled at her to continue.
“He said that,” and the girl swallowed in fear, “that you would be too much of a coward to confront him.”
The tiger glowered ferociously, stalked to the edge of the well, and snarled into the blackness.
“He’s in there,” the girl said. “Do you see him?”
The deep well was full of shadows, but the dark water caught the reflection of the tiger’s menacing eyes and sharp teeth. Full of wrath, the tiger growled at his own reflection, thinking it was a black beast. As the reflection growled back, the tiger gave a furious roar. The roar echoed back.
“That’s him,” the girl said. “He’s mocking you!”
Outraged, the tiger clawed the stone ground and snarled again—even louder and angrier.
“How dare he!” the girl said. “He insults you! Your own son!”
The girl’s words and his own echoing roars set the Green Tiger off into a frenzy. The air seemed to be charged with his uncontrollable fury—every hair on the tiger seemed to jut like sharp spikes, his teeth and eyes glittered like the cutting edge of a knife.
He gave a deafening roar that bellowed, filling the sky with thunder. At its sound, the girl fell to the ground and Minli and the boy covered their ears. The tiger bared his teeth and claws for an attack. And when the roar echoed back, it overwhelmed him with wild rage. Finally, the Green Tiger gave one last roar and… leapt into the well!
The girl, boy, and Minli stood frozen as the air filled with roars and the sound of splashing water. Then, suddenly, the wind carried one last howl into the sky; there was silence. Minli stared in disbelief. The Green Tiger was gone!
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“We did it! We did it!” The boy and girl laughed as they ran to each other and hugged. They both were younger than Minli; she realized that they were twins—their round faces, dancing eyes, and pink cheeks were exactly the same. The gray blanket that the boy had used to help hide himself was thrown on the ground, and with their dimpled faces swollen with smiles and their matching, bright red clothing, they looked like two rolling berries. Minli couldn’t help but smile.
And as they laughed and congratulated each other, another voice called in the distance.
“A-Fu! Da-Fu!” the voice cried. “Where are you?”
The children looked at each other. “A-Gong!” the girl said, and then together they called, “Here! We’re over here!”
A tall, gray-haired man burst into the clearing; a bag was strapped onto his back and in one hand he held a sword and in the other a spear. As soon as he saw the children, both weapons clattered to the ground and they ran into his arms.
“A-Fu! Da-Fu!” he cried. “We were so worried!”
“We did it, A-Gong!” the boy said. “We did it! We destroyed the tiger just like we said we would!”
“Yes,” the girl said. “Our plan worked! We tricked him into the well, just like we said we would!”
“You were not supposed to do that,” the man said, holding them tightly. “We told you it was too dangerous!”
“That’s why we sneaked away,” the girl said. “We knew it would work… we used his anger against him just like you said we should! You said he was even angrier at his son and his anger would blind him… and it did!”
“I didn’t say you should do anything,” the man said, kneeling with his hands on both their shoulders. “You were not supposed to go after the Green Tiger yourselves.”
“You’re not angry, right?” the boy said. “Now, no one will have to be scared anymore. We can let the animals out of the house and go outdoors again!”
“Oh, Da-Fu!” the grandfather said, hugging them again even closer. “A-Fu! As long as you both are safe—that is all that matters.”
Then the gray-haired man saw Minli watching them.
“Ah, who is this?” he said, beckoning Minli closer.
Before either child could say a word, Minli rushed up with a hurried bow.
“Please,” she said, “my friend, the Green Tiger injured him and he’s hurt and…”
The grandfather quickly pushed the children off of him and stood up. “Hurt by the Green Tiger!” he said. “Take me to your friend quickly. It is lucky I brought the medicine bag with me. Da-Fu, get your blanket and give it to this girl. She is cold.”
The boy ran for his blanket, stopping to pick up the torn fabric from his pants, and brought it to her. Minli wrapped the gray blanket around her. She was grateful for its warmth but even more grateful that the man wanted to help immediately. “How long ago was your friend injured?” the man asked as he urged her to lead the way. After Minli told him, he shook his head. “We must hurry, then,” he said.
“The Green Tiger is no ordinary beast. His teeth and claws are poison. Without the medicine I have, he will die before seeing the sunset.”
Minli swallowed hard and quickened her pace. The wind seemed to scream a warning, and even under the layer of Da-Fu’s blanket, she felt cold. Would they be too late? Would they be able to save Dragon?
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“He’s in here!” Minli called to A-Fu, Da-Fu, and their grandfather, pointing to the cave opening. Even before reaching the entrance, A-Gong was already holding the medicine bottle in his hand.
As they rushed inside, Minli was relieved to hear Dragon’s rasping breath. He was still alive! But as the children and their grandfather saw him lying in the dim light, they stopped, shocked still.
“Your friend… your friend…,” the boy said in awe, “… is a dragon?”
The old man recovered from his surprise. “It matters not,” he said to them. “Quickly, where is his wound?”
Minli carefully unwound her blanket from Dragon’s arm and winced. The gashes seemed to have burned into him like evil coals; the blackness had spread and his arm looked like a burnt tree.
Swiftly, the man pushed Minli aside and began to pour the liquid from the medicine jar over Dragon’s black arm. The tonic was a clear yellow-green, with a gentle aroma of fresh flowers and grass, reminding Minli of a spring morning. As it washed over Dragon’s diseased arm, his tightly closed eyes relaxed and the grimace on his face smoothed—as if a deep pain was relieved. The medicine melted the dark poison; the blackness seemed to be rinsing away and Dragon’s breathing became easier and even.
Minli sighed. She hadn’t realized until then that she had been holding her breath. She knew, even before the man smiled, that Dragon was going to be okay.
“Da-A-Fu,” the old man said, and Minli realized that he was calling both his grandchildren with a single name. “Go home and tell the family what has happened and where I am or they will worry. I need to stay with the dragon. Tell Amah and all the women to make more medicine and when it is ready, bring it to me. This dragon will need to drink it when he awakens.”
“Thank you,” Minli said softly.
The man turned and looked at her wind-burned face, tangled hair, and eyes shadowed with weariness. “He is going to be fine,” the grandfather said to her kindly, and then turned back to the children, “Da-A-Fu—bring this girl home and tell Amah to take care of her. She has not slept in a warm bed for a long time.”
“I want to stay with Dragon,” Minli protested. “I want to help him.”
“I will stay with him,” the old man said to her. “Don’t worry, he will be fine. You have already helped him.”
Minli opened her mouth to argue, but a yawn formed instead. She realized the man was right and nodded her head. The boy took one of Minli’s hands and the girl took the other and they led her out of the cave.
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“Which one of you is A-Fu and which one is Da-Fu?” Minli asked the twins. “My name’s Minli.”
The children laughed; their giggles were like bells playing in unison. “I’m A-Fu,” the girl said, “he’s Da-Fu. But you can just call us Da-A-Fu, because we are always together. Everyone does.”
Minli smiled. The exhaustion from the long night of worry had made her feel heavy and clumsy, but the children’s happiness seemed to carry her. Their every word seemed to be mixed with merriness; their laughter pushed her toward the cheerful yellow patch in the distance.
And as they approached the spot, Minli realized that the yellow was flowers—in front of them was land full of blooming trees. The trees were heavy with bright blossoms and as the wind blew through the branches, golden flowers showered down like rain.
As they reached the trees and breathed in the spicy scent of the flowers, Minli gasped. “It’s beautiful,” she said. The children laughed again, and the brilliant red of their clothes and the golden yellow flowers of the trees seemed to make Minli’s eyes dazzle with color.
But their brilliance was a contrast to the stone rooftops of a village below. The homes looked as though they had to be hewed from the cold, harsh rock of the mountain; and Minli saw that the flowering trees were the only things that grew easily from the unforgiving rough soil. The boy saw Minli’s gaze.
“That’s our home,” he told her, “the Village of the Moon Rain.”
“Village of the Moon Rain?” Minli asked. “That’s a strange name. Why isn’t your village named after the flowering trees?”
“It is,” Da-Fu said.
THE STORY OF THE VILLAGE OF MOON RAIN
Over a hundred years ago, when our ancestors were first brought here, the land of the village was barren and gray. Everything was dull and colorless, the wind cold and bitter. Still, our ancestors worked hard. They built houses out of mountain stone, sewed warm, wadded-cotton jackets, and planted seeds in the hard dirt.
But, despite their efforts, the land refused to bear a single plant or flower. However, even though it looked hopeless, our ancestors continued to work.
Then one night, when the moon was big and round, the air filled with a strange fluttering sound. Our ancestors thought that a great storm was coming and rushed inside.
And a great storm was coming. With a crash, raindrops seemed to fall from the sky.
But what strange rain it was! Round and smooth, in the glowing light the raindrops looked like silver pearls! And when they touched the ground, they disappeared.
“It’s raining pearls!” our ancestors said to each other. “Jewels from the moon!” And they rushed out with baskets and bags, catching what they could from this strange storm. Magically, when the raindrops were caught, they didn’t disappear; and soon their baskets and bags were full.
But in the morning, our ancestors saw that the drops were not pearls or jewels. In the sunlight, they saw that they were really seeds. But no one knew what kind of seeds they were. Curious, they planted them in the hard earth.
And when the moon rose again that night, the strange rain fell again as well. This time our ancestors were not fooled and just watched the drops disappear into the ground. But in the morning, the planted seeds were sprouting as if watered by a magic brew.
So night after night the seed rain fell from the sky. And as daylight broke over the land, the seedlings grew higher. Soon they grew into beautiful silver trees with golden flowers. They were so beautiful, our ancestors planted more and more seeds and soon the whole village was blooming with hundreds and hundreds of flowering trees.
And since then our home has been called the Village of Moon Rain. We plant new seeds every day, and every night, the moon rain falls and every morning a new seedling sprouts. Maybe in another hundred years all this stony land will be covered with trees and the mountain will be as golden as the Moon.
“So these seeds rain from the sky every night?” Minli asked.
“Well, every night there is a moon,” the girl said. “That is why we call it Moon Rain.”
“And you don’t know why?” Minli asked. Even though she was tired, she could not help being curious.
Both children shook their heads and before Minli could ask more questions the boy pointed. Minli followed his hand and saw crimson gate doors painted with a cheerful greeting.
“We’re here!” he cried. “Come on, we’re home!”
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After the great storm, Ma and Ba worried that vast damage had been done to the village. And when the sun shone in the morning, the village looked as if it were in ruins. Large tree branches had fallen and a clutter of leaves and roof tiles and dust and dirt littered the ground. Yet, when the villagers began to clean, the storm had not harmed them as much as they had feared.
“At least no homes were destroyed,” the villagers said to each other, “and we know everyone is safe.”
Well, everyone except for Minli, they added silently.
Ma and Ba said nothing when their neighbors paused awkwardly.
They helped pick up the broken branches, swept broken bits of pottery and tiles from the street, and nailed shutters. At night, they quietly sat together at the table with the goldfish. Though Ma had heard nothing, Ba remembered the fish’s words about the fear in the wind. It filled him with worry and he waited for the fish to speak again. However, it remained oddly silent.
Finally, when Ma was busy helping a neighbor, Ba tried to question the fish.
“During the storm you said there was fear in the wind,” Ba said to the fish. “Whose fear was it? Was it Minli’s? Was she afraid of something?”
The fish stared at Ba with its round eyes and made no sound.
“Please tell me,” Ba said, his hands around the bowl.
The fish swam noiselessly in the water.
Ba was puzzled. Had the fish stopped speaking? Or was he now unable to understand? Or perhaps the fish had never spoken and it had all been his imagination?
Ba placed his ear close to the water. Was that faint bubbling a whisper? He strained closer, his ear beginning to dip into the water…
“What are you doing?” Ma asked as she came into the room.
Ba jerked his head up, his ear dripping with water.
“Uh, nothing,” he said sheepishly.
“Were you cleaning your ear in the fishbowl?” Ma said, slightly appalled.
“Not exactly,” Ba said awkwardly.
A cross look streaked across Ma’s face, but as she looked at Ba, rubbing his ear shamefacedly, she did something she hadn’t done in years. She laughed.
“You look so silly! If Minli were here now,” Ma said, “she would laugh at you.”
“Yes, she would,” Ba said, and he too began to laugh. “She would laugh until she cried.”
Their laughter intertwined but when they looked at each other, they could see the tears forming were not from joy.