John ran up the path to the village and went directly
to Helen’s house. Again he asked Helen, “Will you marry me?” She looked dumbfounded. The thought in her head was “of course not.” But the word that came out of her mouth was “yes.”
One wish granted, John said to himself, but what he really should have wished for was a happy marriage, because Helen made his life miserable. She didn’t understand why she had said yes, and she never stopped telling John how unhappy she was to be his bride. Even the neighbors could hear her screaming at him. He no longer regretted fishing every day. It was such a relief to get out of the house and away from her nagging.
One morning, John decided to see if his second wish would come true. He bought a far stronger fish line than usual and a much bigger hook. Then off he sailed. When he reached a likely spot, he baited the hook, flung out the line, and settled down to wait for a bite from the biggest fish in the sea. “Today’s the day,” he shouted, hoping that the mermaid was listening.
He was dreaming about how much money he would earn, when his fishing pole was almost jerked out of his hands. It was all John could do to hang on while the fish pulled him and his boat far out to sea.
When the fish leaped out of the water, it looked more like a monster, with gigantic teeth and huge golden scales. Stranger yet, its angry eyes looked very much like those of the mermaid, but magnified one thousand times.
The fish whipped the line first one way, then the other. It circled the boat, again leaping above the waves, then splashing down, drenching John with seawater. The fish looked at least a hundred years old and very likely would taste vile. Who would want to buy it? thought John. Even if he managed to pull it aboard, it would sink his boat, so he reluctantly cut his fish line.
But the fish didn’t seem very grateful to be free. It spit out the hook and dove deep under the waves. Then it sped upward, smashing the boat to pieces. John was thrown into the water, and the fish began to circle him. Would it swallow him in one gulp? The mermaid hadn’t made any promises about that. But the fish finally turned and swam away.
John clutched a plank that had risen to the surface and hugged it to his chest. Hour after hour he floated along. He was burned by the sun and chilled by the waves. His lips cracked and stung, constantly splashed by salty seawater. He almost hoped that the fish would come back and swallow him. Why, he asked himself, did I ever wish to catch such a big fish?
When the incoming tide finally washed him up on the beach, he realized the mermaid had fulfilled his third wish. She had not let him drown, but he was cold and exhausted and utterly miserable. He staggered to his feet and saw her sitting on the same rock, watching him as she combed her long golden hair. She looked incredibly triumphant. Did it please her that his wishes had gone awry?
John crawled up the path to the village. When he tottered home, Helen started berating him. “What did you do to yourself?” she scolded. He told her all the terrible things he’d endured, but she just screamed, “You lost our boat? Now what will we do?”
John fell into bed without bothering to take off his clothes and pulled a pillow over his ears. When he awoke, he was ranting about dangerous mermaids.
“Stop blaming mermaids,” Helen screeched. “They don’t exist!”
John decided he would prove her wrong if it was the last thing he did. He went down to the beach and stayed from sunrise to sunset—day after day—peering around rocks, scanning the waves. He had to catch that mermaid to prove himself to his wife.
One day he hid under a pile of sea grass that had washed in with the tide. He waited there for hours. Bugs dropped out of the grass and crawled all over him. Sand sifted into his hair and ears and down the back of his shirt. At last, the unsuspecting mermaid swam ashore and flipped herself up on the nearest rock. She was singing her haunting songs again—and the longer John listened, the odder he felt.
Before she completely befuddled his mind, John started to inch along, moving the entire pile of grass her way. She didn’t notice a thing—not until she tilted down her mirror to admire her golden curls. That’s when she saw a startling reflection. John was rising out of the grass, ready to catch her. But she was ready, too. She swung around and swatted his nose with her golden mirror.
“If it’s scales you want, you can have them.”
John was so surprised that he grabbed his poor nose. But he didn’t feel skin. His face seemed to be sprouting scales like those of a fish. John wrenched the mirror out of the mermaid’s hand, but before he could see what was happening, he dropped it. His hand had turned into a fin. What was wrong with his legs? He flopped down on the sand. He could hardly breathe. He knew he had to get into the sea. Suddenly he was swimming—and was hungrier than he had ever been in his entire life. He lunged for a worm that he saw dangling in the water. But he didn’t see the hook.
The Ghost of the Rainbow Maiden
HAWAII
Chief Kauhi could be every bit as cruel as the shark god he worshipped. Yet he wanted rainbows to arch over his house and the beautiful Rainbow Maiden to dwell therein.
She refused.
Chief Kauhi was so angry that he killed the Rainbow Maiden and buried her deep under the roots of a great koa tree. But he couldn’t kill her ghost. It crept out of her body through the little hole at the corner of her eye, rose up through the soft dirt, and began to wander about, invisible to everyone.
The ghost was determined not to go to the underworld. It wanted to be restored to the Rainbow Maiden’s body, so she could live again.
Whenever anyone came past the koa tree, the ghost whistled softly, hoping someone would help. But the whistle sounded like wind rustling through the leaves. The ghost tried brushing the eyelashes of anyone who walked by, making their eyelids tremble. But they merely rubbed their eyes and continued walking.
The ghost began to fear that it would be separated from the body of the Rainbow Maiden forever. It felt the shadow of eternal death descending. But just as it was about to give up hope, a noble chieftain named Mahana sat down to rest, leaning against the trunk of the koa tree. Maybe his love for the Rainbow Maiden had led him there. He had searched everywhere else. Or maybe he was particularly aware of ghosts. After all, two spirit sisters, disguised as real women, protected his family.
Suddenly he felt his hand quivering. The ghost of the Rainbow Maiden had touched it. He heard the sound of leaves rustling overhead, but there was no wind. As the ghost hovered around him, he felt its anguish.
He jumped up and circled the tree. There on the other side was freshly dug soil. He dropped to his knees and began digging frantically with his hands. He tore aside the roots of the koa tree and kept digging until he came upon a fearsome sight—the bruised body of the Rainbow Maiden. It was still warm.
Mahana raced home with the body, calling to his witch doctor for help. But all their prayers and rituals did not work. The Rainbow Maiden’s body and ghost did not reunite. Had they been separated too long?
Mahana sought help again. This time he called to the ghost sisters who watched over his family’s welfare. Somehow, as fellow ghosts, they brought the ghost of the Rainbow Maiden closer to her body. Then, while the witch doctor chanted, they pushed that spirit into the maiden’s feet and slowly up her body until it was restored to its rightful home. Under the tender care of Mahana and the ghost sisters, the Rainbow Maiden recovered her health.
But Mahana feared that the maiden was in great danger. If Chief Kauhi learned of her whereabouts, he would kill her again.
The Rainbow Maiden loved Mahana, but she couldn’t stand living hidden from the world. She wanted to play in the mists, spreading arcs of color across the sky.
Mahana decided he must find a way to challenge and defeat Chief Kauhi. So Mahana went out to look for him. He found him surfing on a gigantic wave, pleasing his shark god and showing off for his family.
“What makes you think you are so brave?” Mahana taunted. “A child could surf that wave.”
C
hief Kauhi left the water and strode up the beach. He thrust his face close to Mahana’s. “You don’t know how brave I am. I’ve even killed someone.”
“Who?” demanded Mahana.
“The Rainbow Maiden,” bragged the chief.
Mahana jumped at the chance to call him a liar. “You didn’t kill her,” he said. “She still lives.”
Chief Kauhi was furious. “You are the liar!” he said. “She must be a ghost who has taken on human form. I’ll prove it.”
“And what if you can’t?”
“If I am wrong, I’ll leap into the volcano. But if I am right, you will leap in!”
Mahana accepted the challenge so quickly that Chief Kauhi began to worry. He hurried home to tell his own witch doctor that they must devise a test for ghosts.
“We’ll outwit her,” said his evil witch doctor. “We’ll place large and delicate leaves on the path that the Rainbow Maiden must walk upon. The judges will notice that her feet do not bruise or tear the leaves. They will know that she walks as lightly as a ghost.”
The fateful day arrived. All was ready for the sacrifice. Crowds began to come from all parts of the island.
When the Rainbow Maiden approached, the spirit sisters were still guarding her. They immediately knew that the path of delicate leaves was a test for ghosts. The maiden could pass the test, but they could not. If anyone discovered that they were ghosts, the spirit-catchers would seize them and take them to the depths of the underworld.
“You must crush the leaves on both sides as you move along,” they told the Rainbow Maiden, “so we can fool the judges as we walk beside you.”
The Maiden quietly bruised and broke a wide swath of leaves as she passed through the crowds. The judges were convinced that she was human.
But Chief Kauhi refused to be defeated so easily. “I feel the presence of ghosts around her,” he shouted. “They must be punished.” He proposed yet another method of ghost testing before he himself was sacrificed.
“Bring forth a calabash of water,” he told his witch doctor. “You can tell if ghosts are reflected there.”
His witch doctor filled the gourd and tried to wait patiently. But in his eagerness to serve his evil chief, he leaned forward for a better view and saw his own reflection there. His spirit had escaped from his body and was bathing in the water. Mahana leaped forward, plunged his hands into the water, and crushed the spirit face before it could leap back into the doctor’s body. The witch doctor fell dead before he could detect reflections of ghosts—and the spirit sisters were spared.
And Chief Kauhi? He tried to run away. But the crowd blocked his escape. They marched the murderous chieftain up the slope of the volcano. When he neared the brink, he suddenly lunged for Mahana.
“You’ll share my fate,” the chief shouted, rushing toward Mahana to knock him into the volcano. But Mahana twisted away, falling to the ground.
The chief tripped on Mahana’s leg, plunged over the edge, and fell screaming into the fiery cauldron.
The Wife’s Tale
CHINA
It was long past bedtime when a Chinese trader arrived in town. He dismounted from his mule and knocked halfheartedly at a few doors. He hated to awaken anyone in the middle of the night. So he walked back and forth, wondering what to do. But just as he passed a tumbledown house, an old man stepped out.
“We would be honored if you stayed with us,” he said, “if you don’t mind eating cold food that’s a day old.”
Well, the trader was relieved to find any sort of shelter at all. He tied his mule to a handy tree and followed the old man indoors.
Oddly enough, there was no furniture in sight. The old man scurried about, first bringing in a low bench, then a low table, and then a bowl of rice with a few scraps of meat.
The old man apologized for serving such a humble meal, but the trader barely listened, because he saw the man’s lovely daughter enter the room with a pot of tea.
She didn’t behave like most maidens, who lowered their eyes and glanced sideways at strangers. Her dark eyes were fixed directly on the trader. He was surprised but intrigued. What sort of maiden was she? She was quick to refill his cup and to bring more rice. By the time he had finished his meal, he had decided to ask her father’s permission to marry her. “May I hope that you will unite our two families?”
“With pleasure,” said the old man. “If you will share your house, we will come to live with you.”
The next day, the trader returned home to make the necessary arrangements. When all was ready, he rode back to the maiden’s town, but before he reached her home, he found her walking down the road. She was dressed in mourning clothes, carrying a bundle, and weeping.
“My father was killed when the back wall of the house fell on him,” she said. “I must bury him today. Please wait for me here.”
“Can’t I help you?” he asked, reaching for her bundle.
“Not if you love me,” she said. As she twisted away, he felt something brush against his wrist that felt like cats’ whiskers. The maiden quickly pulled the wrapping tight around the bundle, sobbing harder than ever. When she disappeared into a clump of trees, she was still cradling the bundle in her arms.
What was happening? The trader leaned against a tree, confused and impatient, but he waited until she returned—with no bundle in hand.
“Now we must sell our grain,” she said, leading him back to her house. When they had found enough buyers to empty the granary, she gathered up her things, and the trader helped her onto his mule.
The maiden did not complain about the long and tiring ride, but she did make a strange request. “Never speak to my old neighbors about me or my father. They are a bad lot,” she said. No matter how many times the trader asked her why, she would not say.
When they reached the trader’s home, they were warmly welcomed by his parents and his brother. Soon a lucky day was chosen for the marriage, and the trader and his bride began a happy life together. She spent much of her time spinning, earning money for her new family. She also brought them good fortune. Their granary seemed to remain full no matter how much they ate.
One day the trader’s brother happened to travel to the very town where his sister-in-law once lived. He didn’t know that he should not mention her to her old neighbors. So he told them how his brother had been welcomed into the house next door to theirs.
“You must be mistaken,” said the neighbor. “No one has lived in that house for years. Something frightened the owners away. Then the back wall fell in. When I heard the noise, I went over. Do you know what I saw buried under the rubble? Something big and furry.” His voice dropped so low that his words were muffled. “It wasn’t moving.” He leaned closer. “But when I looked minutes later, it had disappeared. I’ll never go near that house again.”
The trader’s brother was amazed. When he returned home, he took his brother aside and told him what the neighbor had said.
“No one lived there?” cried the trader. “How can you believe such rumors? Now I know why she said the neighbors were a bad lot.” But as much as he loved his wife, he began to watch her closely for strange signs.
He noticed how she sniffed the food she was cooking. “Only to make sure I have flavored it well,” she said. He also noticed that her teeth were growing longer. One night he was awakened by a gnawing sound. He arose and startled his wife, who dropped a piece of wood on the floor. “I have a bad toothache,” she said. “This numbs the pain.” But she seemed upset that he had seen her gnawing wood.
What worried him most was the way she sometimes disappeared at night. He often heard scurrying around the granary. Was she scavenging grain from surrounding farms?
One night he went out to investigate and saw a large rat with an unusually long tail. It was carrying a small sack of grain in its teeth. At first it cowered, looking straight at
him with dark, beady eyes. But when the trader tried to kill it with a big stick, the rat defended itself. It jumped onto the tra
der’s back and bit his neck. He dropped his stick and swatted the rat with his hands—giving it the opportunity it needed to flee. But it limped as it raced away.
The next morning, the trader’s neck was swollen and sore. His wife moistened towels with cool water and held them against the wound to reduce the swelling.
The trader was torn between love and fear. Was he imagining things, or was his wife limping? And what was that bruise, mostly hidden by the sleeve of her robe? He was desperate to know what was happening, so he tried something drastic. He brought a ferocious cat into the household. His wife didn’t say anything, but there was fear in her eyes when she watched it bite off the head of a mouse.
The next morning, his wife’s face and hands were bandaged, and the cat’s ear was bitten. “That cat attacked me,” she cried. “Please take it away!”
Now her husband was more suspicious than ever, but he was sorry to see his wife suffering, so he put the cat outdoors.
That night, the trader heard wild caterwauling. It sounded like alley cats fighting over tidbits of food. When he saw that his wife was not in bed, he rushed outside. An army of cats raced away, led by the ferocious mouser. The trader looked down at his feet, horrified. There on the doorstep was an unusually long rat’s tail and scraps of rat fur.
Where was his wife? She was nowhere to be found.
Youth without Age
TURKEY
Even before the prince entered the world, he drove his parents wild. “I never knew that babies could scream before they were born,” groaned the king. “Nor I,” sobbed the queen. At least the king could leave the room. But the poor queen had no relief, day or night, from the little one screaming inside her.
The greatest magicians in the land were summoned. They tried their most powerful spells. They sang and they chanted before the pregnant queen. But nothing silenced the screaming.
The king tried promises. “My darling child,” he said, “I will give you all the kingdoms east of the sun and west of the moon.” Still the baby screamed. “If you are a boy, I will find you a bride as lovely as the Fairy Queen. If you are a girl, you will be wed to the finest prince in the land.” The baby screamed even louder.
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