by Jamila Gavin
A pile of bones no more, as if a sculptor had moulded his clay over a human frame, his sister’s body and soul were reunited. He touched her arms and smoothed her brow; her flesh was warm and alive; he took her hands, perfect apart from the one missing little finger. While Miskouri circled them, purring fit to burst, Leyla opened her dark golden-brown eyes and looked at Abu, then at Miskouri, and smiled.
But even as he raised his sister to her feet, Abu felt a chill presence. The Purple Lady had entered the chamber. ‘How dare you enter my domain,’ she hissed. ‘You will never leave.’
Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Abu stood up, slowly uncoiling the rope from his waist. ‘Why would I wish to leave you?’ he asked sweetly. He sensed the Purple Lady’s defences drop for just a moment – and hurled himself forward as if to embrace her; instead, he flung the empty sack over her head and bound her tightly. He dragged her down to the lake shore, flung her into the boat and pushed it out across the lake. The boat rocked violently as the Purple Lady struggled to free herself. At last she pulled the sack off her head and stood up in the boat triumphantly.
Too late, she realized her danger: for now her reflection fell on the surface of the water. ‘I see you, Purple Lady!’ shouted Abu, opening his eyes.
There was a terrible churning; a black hole opened up and swallowed her shadow, dragging the Purple Lady with it, down into the deadly water. Abu heard one frightful shriek, and then she was gone for ever.
He stood there, his eyes open. How wonderful to see again, he thought; the world looked such a beautiful place. He returned to the mouth of the cave to find Leyla still bathed in a purple light, cuddling Miskouri in her arms. ‘Abu? Can we go home now?’ she asked.
They stood on the lake shore, but something was happening. The water was draining away, and before their eyes a beautiful garden appeared, with fruit trees and banks of flowers and shrubs. A single heron soared overhead and landed where the lake had been. It paused for a moment, then flapped its wings and flew away again, its shadow passing safely over the land below. The spell was broken.
‘We can walk across,’ said Abu.
So they followed a winding path edged with wild grasses, fruit trees and beds of flowers, and Miskouri leaped and chased her own shadow until, ahead of them, they saw the Purple Gates. They were wide open, and bouncing along the track before them was the bus, with the passengers Abu had met when he first came to the city – the woman in the headscarf, the Sikh, the man reading his newspaper – and also the old woman he had helped across the road, leading her daughter by the hand. This time, they didn’t hide their eyes, but waved and smiled as the bus headed towards the Cave of Bones. Even from this distance, they saw a bright purple light filling the entrance, and eyes gleaming from trees and flowers and rock. And they could hear their loved ones singing: ‘I am Jasvinder’; ‘I am Freddy’; ‘I am Fatima’; ‘I am Emily’; ‘I am Asaria’ – as if all their loved ones were waiting to be reassembled and reunited with them.
Abu, Leyla and Miskouri reached the gates and stepped into the swirling throng of people on the other side. Everyone was looking at each other and smiling.
‘I have returned as I promised,’ said Abu.
He had put Leyla and Miskouri on the bus home to their village, and returned to Faraway Alley. He climbed the wall, and then the flight of steps that led up to Shasti’s door. It was open, and he stepped inside, smelling her sticks of smoking incense and bitter marigolds. ‘We have released Leyla, and broken the power of Purple Lady. Thank you, Shasti. Now take my eye, as we agreed.’
Shasti was sitting as he had left her, cross-legged in the lotus position on her carpet. ‘Kneel before me, boy,’ she said softly.
He did as she asked, and she pressed the palm of her hand over his left eye and murmured some words. Then she took her hand away. ‘You may go now.’
Abu rose to his feet. He opened his eyes and found that his left eye was blind. He had paid the price. Yet through his one remaining eye he could see the whole glorious world in all its colours and shapes; its goodness and badness; its invention and creation. As he sat on the bus home, he saw the glory of the cosmos across the fields and woods and open skies; soon he would see the happiness too. Leyla was home.
THE GOLDEN CARP
Greed and Laziness are two of the deadliest sins because they lead to other evils, but Kindness and Generosity can bring Good Fortune.
Deep in the valley was a hidden lake. It was fed by several streams that ran down from the surrounding hills, gathering at the bottom into a cold, crystal-clear stretch of water in which the surrounding woods reflected their dark shadows, and willows trailed their branches like wet hair. Chi and his mother discovered it one day, when Chi was a young child. It was their secret. They went there often, and Chi’s mother used to find special pebbles which were just right for skipping across the water, and she would chant:
‘East the Blue Dragon,
West the White Tiger,
North the Black Tortoise,
South the Gold Fish.’
Then they would spin their stones and see which ones skipped the most times.
Chi grew into a handsome lad, with golden skin and shining black hair, and eyes like almonds. He lived with his father and mother on the edge of a town. His father was a much-admired stone carver: he carved not only limestone and granite for big houses, but semi-precious stones, some of which he set into necklaces and bracelets; others he transformed into animals, birds and fish. Many a mantelpiece displayed a leaping deer, or a darting swallow. Sometimes Chi’s mother helped him, when she wasn’t looking after the smallholding attached to their house, rearing pigs and sheep and cows. Between them, they had become quite prosperous, well-known for their kindness and for giving money to the poor, and Chi was brought up to be generous and kind as well.
Then one day came the terrible news that Chi’s father had been thrown from his horse and killed.
The stone carver was buried along with one of his finest creations: a fish carved out of a piece of translucent golden jade, with rippling scales, and fins that fanned out as delicately as ferns. Everyone who had seen it said it was his finest work.
The grief-stricken widow locked herself away and left Chi to run the household and business as best he could. Of course, there were many who urged her to marry again, and for a long time she resisted. But then she thought how selfish she was being. ‘My son needs a father to guide him into manhood,’ she told herself. So when a certain man came courting her – a handsome and charming man, whose wife had been dead for many years, and who had a strapping boy of his own – she succumbed to his persuasive ways and agreed to marry him.
If only she’d known that he was really cruel and greedy and only interested in her money. If only she’d known that his son, Lu, was a lazy bully, and no less greedy than his father . . .
No sooner had she married him than he and his son began to spend and spend. They liked nothing better than to strut around like lords, and drive fine carriages, and throw parties for their feckless friends. They weren’t interested in doing any work, and the money soon began to run out. No longer did the poor receive any charity; no longer was Chi’s mother allowed into the town to visit the sick and give friendship to the needy, but was kept virtually a prisoner in her own house. And people whispered sadly at how things had changed for the worse.
Finally, her new husband had to dismiss the cook, the maids and the farm hands, and forced his wife into the kitchen to scrub and clean and cook and sew and fetch and carry. As for Chi, he was treated like a slave: he worked on the farm, raking, digging and mucking out. He laboured from dawn till dusk, doing the work of ten men, while Lu did nothing but lie in bed till noon, then hang around the town with his friends.
Chi was horrified to see how his mother was treated. But every time he tried to defend her, the stepfather and his bullying son thrashed him. ‘You thought all this would be yours one day,’ they jeered, ‘but we are the owners now. The house is ours, the
farm is ours. Now get on with your work.’
Day by day, Chi had to watch his beautiful mother become worn and exhausted, and her once glorious raven-black hair turn grey.
Among his many jobs, Chi had to tend to the pigs, which his stepfather and brother thought the filthiest job in the world. But Chi had been looking after them ever since he had reached the height of their ears, when his mother had put a stick in his hand and told him, ‘One day, this farm will be yours, so you must learn to manage everything, starting with the pigs.’
Mother and son now lived in misery, but every day before he set out with the pigs he would whisper, ‘Be brave, Mother. Something will happen to end this injustice.’
Each morning, he would drive his herd down to the secret lake; each evening, before sundown, he would bring them home again. How he loved that solitary place, remembering how happy things used to be. Here, while his pigs snuffled around in the undergrowth, Chi felt free to wander along the shore collecting pebbles to skip as he tried to break his record. He chanted the rhyme his mother had once taught him as he whirled round and spun his stone:
‘East the Blue Dragon
West the White Tiger
North the Black Tortoise
South the Gold Fish.’
One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . sometimes five skips, and then he would cheer. Chi observed the different patterns the wind made on the lake, or watched the water fowl scuttling in and out of the reeds with their hooting, pipping and cheeping sounds, and it took his mind off his predicament.
Sometimes he would hear a strangely beautiful voice singing on the far shore; once he thought he saw a beautiful maiden, dancing gracefully, dipping and twirling.
Or was she a dream? Chi was never sure, but it gave him the courage to go home and face the cruelty of his stepfather and stepbrother.
Then one day, when the lake was as still as a lady’s hand mirror, perfect for pebble-skipping, Chi spotted a stone that was just right. He rubbed off the sand against his trousers and positioned himself on the shore, ready to send his stone spinning across the water.
He twisted round for extra power, drew back his arm and hurled the stone with all his might. It skipped . . . three, four, five, six, seven, eight . . . ‘Nine!’ he yelled in triumph, and for a moment his sadness was forgotten. ‘Nine skips. Just wait till I tell everyone!’ But he realized there was no one to tell.
Then he saw something extraordinary: a vast shape loomed beneath the water. A giant fish, with green scales edged in gold and a gleaming pearl-white belly, swam towards him. Chi backed away, terrified of its gaping mouth and the menacing feelers that dangled on either side of its jaws. It was the biggest carp he’d ever seen. It came so close that its belly brushed the sandy bottom. It looked up at him through the clear water, with green eyes that seemed strangely familiar, as if Chi recognized the soul that stared out of them. A century could have passed, or just an instant; then a pebble slid out of the fish’s mouth and began to sink in a slow, wavering descent. The carp flicked its tail and, without even breaking the surface, dived into the depths and was lost from sight.
As swift as a serpent, Chi plunged his hand into the water and grasped the stone before it could settle into the soft mud. He studied it lying there on his palm, and was amazed. Although it was the perfect size and shape for skipping, he knew that this was no ordinary stone. It was a creamy green, yet translucent, with a golden glow.
And then he heard the singing.
The sun was setting and its rays scattered across the water like sparkling diamonds. He shaded his eyes – and there she was again: the beautiful maiden. She wore a long, creamy silken gown, with her hands covered by floating sleeves, and her long, unpinned black hair wafting around her like evening shadows. She danced a slow, graceful dance, and sang into the wind; a song that brought tears to Chi’s eyes and an ache to his heart.
She stopped still at the sight of him and raised an arm. Was she waving at him? Chi looked around. He was all alone, so he shyly waved back and shouted joyfully, ‘I skipped a pebble nine times!’ He was sure she gave a smile before turning away and disappearing among the birch trees.
Chi felt a burst of happiness. The maiden was real. He stowed the precious stone away in his pocket and hurried home, herding the pigs before him as the sun went down. If only he could have shown it to his father, he thought.
His mother was at the door when he arrived, and Chi immediately pulled the stone from his pocket. ‘Look what I found!’ he exclaimed.
At that very moment, his stepfather passed by and saw it. How Chi wished he’d been more careful and kept his mouth shut. ‘Where did you get that?’ his stepfather demanded, snatching the stone out of his hand. And Chi told him that he had found it by the lake.
His stepfather knew immediately that this was a rare piece of jade and very valuable. ‘Hmmm, I’ll keep this.’
‘No!’ protested Chi. ‘It’s mine.’
But his stepfather just boxed his ears and told him that he owned nothing now.
‘Give the boy back his stone,’ begged his mother, seeing her son’s stricken face.
‘Foolish woman that you are,’ her husband shouted. ‘You of all people can tell a piece of jade from a common stone. We can sell this for a lot of money. Now go and do something useful, like sweeping out the fireplace.’
The mother opened her mouth as if to argue, but Chi caught her eye and begged her to stay silent, so she went away to do her husband’s bidding.
The next day, Chi took his pigs back to the secret lake. He scoured the shore looking for another stone that could skim as yesterday’s had. He saw the perfect pebble lying at his feet and, with a quick thrust of his arm, sent it flying across the lake. It skipped . . .
six . . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten . . . ‘Eleven! ’ Chi shouted triumphantly to the sky and the woods and the lake. ‘Did you see that? I made my stone skip eleven times!’
And there it was again: the giant carp, swimming towards him.
Instead of being afraid, Chi now ran down to the water’s edge and caught the piece of jade that slipped out of its jaws. This stone was bigger than the first one. But this time, as he took it in his hand, he looked deep into the eyes of the fish. How strange he felt: as if he were looking into his father’s eyes; as if his father’s spirit were gazing back at him with love . . . And he remembered the beautiful golden carp they had buried with his body. How grief-stricken he would be if he knew what cruelty Chi and his mother were enduring.
Across the lake came the sound of a maiden singing. Chi looked hopefully at the far shore, but it was empty except for a heron, still as a statue, standing on one leg in the water.
‘Well,’ mocked his stepfather when he got home, ‘did you find any more jade on the shore?’
Chi had never lied, but he longed to keep this piece of jade. Perhaps it would help him and his mother to escape. So he lowered his eyes and didn’t answer. Disbelieving, his stepfather stripped off his clothes and searched his pockets till he found the green stone. He shouted, and whipped the boy till he bled. ‘So, you were lying to me, were you? Where did you find this jade?’
‘On – on the lake shore,’ stammered Chi.
‘What lake shore? There isn’t a lake around here!’ yelled the stepfather.
‘He must mean the village pond,’ jeered Lu.
But now the stepfather was suspicious. Had Chi found a secret hoard of gems? He ordered his son to follow him secretly.
The following day, Chi set off with his pigs, unaware of Lu creeping along behind him. He took the steep path down through the woods, down, down to the lake at the bottom of the deep valley.
When he got to the water’s edge, Chi wondered if he would see the golden carp, or the beautiful maiden singing and dancing on the far shore. While the pigs foraged about, he skimmed pebbles and managed five skips, then seven, not realizing that Lu was hiding behind a large boulder watching him.
His stepbrother was just about
to lose patience when he heard Chi give a shout of triumph as his stone skipped fifteen times across the water . . . And there, swimming towards him, was the huge fish.
Lu watched in amazement as the carp came right up to the shore; he saw a piece of jade slide out of its mouth into Chi’s hand. Lu charged towards the water. What a fish! If only he could catch it. He flung aside an astonished Chi and tried to grab the creature.
‘No!’ screamed Chi. ‘Don’t hurt it!’ He dashed into the lake, splashing and kicking to make the carp swim away.
With a cry of rage, Lu hurled himself on top of Chi. They fought desperately, thrashing about in the water, Lu now intent on prising the piece of jade out of Chi’s hand, while the golden carp swam around them in circles.
Suddenly, Chi heard the sound of singing. His fingers uncurled; immediately Lu snatched the jade from him, and triumphantly made for the shore.
Chi drifted towards the middle of the lake, listening to that silver voice. Tipping his head back, he felt as if he were already in heaven; as if the lake were his comforter. He sank down, down, down.
Chi was floating, not sure if he were alive or dead. Had he drowned? He opened his eyes again, and saw that he was in a softly wavering green place, where weeds wafted like long hair in the wind, and shoals of silver fish spun around him. Yet the song continued. He turned and looked about eagerly, hoping to see the dancing maiden from the lake shore. But instead, there before him, sitting watching, as still as a boulder, was the ugliest, loathliest creature he had ever seen.
‘You’re a young, fit lad,’ she screeched in a shrill voice. ‘Get into the wood and collect for me a sack of red apples, a sack of purple damsons and a sack of yellow plums for my winter store, and I will give you a reward.’