Bridge Of Birds (18 page)

“I am finding this fascinating,” said Master Li. “What did you do when you had nothing
left to sell?”

“Why, I turned to crime, of course,” said Miser Shen. "I am particularly proud of my
performance during the Dragon Boat Festival. It occurred to me that the boats originally
raced to sacrifice to the spirit of Ch'u Yuan, who drowned himself as a protest against
corrupt government, but that the festival has degenerated into little more than a
professional boat race upon which vast sums are wagered. Well, there was the betting boat
with the bookmakers and other dignitaries on board, and there came the dragon boats
skimming across the water, and there I came, walking upon the surface. I was on stilts, of
course, and I wore an exact copy of the ancient ceremonial costume of Ch'u Yuan, and I had
a long staff and a big black beard.

"'Insolent dogs!' I roared. 'You dare to turn the occasion of my honorable death into a
sporting event? I shall smite you with pestilence, typhoons, and earthquakes!'

“It was very effective because I had covered my head with protective ointment and my false
beard with pitch, and at that moment I set fire to the beard,” said Miser Shen. “When Ch'u
Yuan came striding across the waves with a halo of flames around his head, the people on
the betting boat dived into the water and swam for their lives, and I cut the anchor rope
and climbed on board and sailed away with all the money. I spent every cent on pearls and
jade, but the soldiers caught me before I could give it to Lotus Cloud, so here I am.”

Li Kao turned and stared at me.

“This happy, vibrant fellow with an admirable talent for crime is Miser Shen?” he said
incredulously. “Ox, this transformation is nothing short of miraculous!”

He turned back to Miser Shen and bowed.

“We must dispense with titles,” he said. “My surname is Li and my personal name is Kao,
and there is a slight flaw in my character, and this is my esteemed client, Number Ten Ox.
We have something important to do, so we must escape from this tower as soon as possible,
and we would be honored if you would care to accompany us.”

Miser Shen wiped tears from his eyes. “It has been forty years since anyone wanted me to
accompany them anywhere,” he sniffled. “Unfortunately there is no way to escape from this
tower.”

“Something will turn up,” Master Li said confidently.

He was right, although when it turned up he was as astonished as I was. There was a loud
commotion at the gates and a mob burst into the courtyard and demanded to see the
governor. The governor stepped out, along with our porcupine merchant, and the mob parted
to reveal a furious farmer, a cow, and two gentlemen of low appearance. A babble of voices
drifted up to us, and we were able to piece together the following account:

The farmer had heard a commotion in his pasture and he had rushed out to discover that a
bald gentleman was down on his knees with his arms wrapped lovingly around the legs of one
of the farmer's prize cows. A fat gentleman, who was carrying a small funeral urn, was
weeping his eyes out, and he turned and wept on the farmer's shoulder for a while. Then he
recovered enough to relate a marvelous tale.

The bald fellow's beloved mother had expired some time ago, and her son had honored her
rather unusual request to be cremated. One night the ghost of his mother came to see him
in a dream, and she expressed the wish to have her ashes placed among the lohans at
Lung-men. So the bald fellow and his dear friend had set forth with the ashes on the pious
pilgrimage, only to discover that the ghost had something else in mind. The road to
Lung-men passed by the farmer's pasture, and the cow had been waiting for them. The bald
fellow had recognized the soft brown eyes immediately.

“Mother!” he screeched. “My beloved mother has been reborn as a cow!”

The reunion had been emotional, and the farmer was forced to shed a few tears himself as
he watched it. The cow's eyes were streaming with tears of joy as she lovingly licked the
bald fellow's skull. “Mother! What joy to see you again!” he sobbed, kissing her hairy
legs.

What choice did the farmer have? He felt the warm glow of a deed well done as he watched
his cow dwindle in the distance with the arms of the two gentlemen wrapped around its
neck. He was only a gentleman farmer, and he was quite surprised when he was informed that
cows always weep when they lick salt.

“And that includes salt that has been sprinkled upon a bald skull!” the farmer yelled.

“How dare you accuse us of fraud?”
screamed Pawnbroker Fang.

“We shall sue!”
howled Ma the Grub.

When the farmer took off in pursuit he was joined by neighbors who had also experienced
the wiles of Ma and Fang, and now they wanted the governor to hang these crooks from the
highest tree.

“Lies, all lies!”
screamed Pawnbroker Fang.

“We demand compensation for slander!”
howled Ma the Grub.

“Ox, you know these creatures well. What will they do now?” asked Master Li.

“They will go on the offense,” I said firmly. “I don't know how, but they'll manage it.”

“Splendid. Gentlemen, let's get out of here.”

There was a huge silk flag with the duke's tiger emblem fluttering from a pole on top of
the tower, and the soldiers were too interested in Ma and Fang and the lynch mob to notice
when I cut it loose and hauled it down. From the wreckage of an old bamboo pigeon coop we
made a basket to stand in, and the lanyard from the pole attached the basket to the flag.

“The principle is the same as that of a falling leaf, which drifts down gently because the
air that pushes up against its surface almost counterbalances the weight that pushes it
down,” Master Li explained. “This flag may just be large enough to hold enough air,
although I would be happier if the tower were another hundred feet high.”

We tiptoed back to the other side of the tower to see how Ma and Fang were coming along.
Bees were droning beside the wall, and Ma the Grub was surprised to see a trail of honey.
His fingers slid slyly toward the stuff. Our porcupine merchant had brought out a plate of
sweetmeats, and he was automatically lifting them to his gaping mouth as he listened to
the members of the mob bellow one accusation after another. Ma the Grub craftily covered
the ashes in the funeral urn with honey. He slid the urn beneath the merchant's fat
fingers, and the hand lifted again and again to the insatiable maw....

“Monster!” Ma shrieked in horror. “Fang, look what these fiends are doing! First they try
to steal the incarnation of your beloved mother, and now they devour her very ashes!”

“Cannibals!” screamed Pawnbroker Fang. He pried the merchant's mouth open and peered into
the black hole.
“Mother, speak to me!”
he howled.

Chaos ensued, and the soldiers in the courtyard converged upon the screaming pandemonium,
and we dragged the flag and the basket to the rear of the roof. We climbed in, and I
grasped the lanyards.

“I have decided to ask the Yama Kings to let me be reborn as a three-toed sloth, and Ox
wishes to become a cloud. Do you have any preference?” Li Kao asked Miser Shen.

“A tree,” Miser Shen said promptly. “In this life I have done nothing but foreclose
mortgages, and when I am reborn I would like to provide free shade for the weary, free
roosts for the birds, free fruit for the hungry, and free firewood for woodcutters when I
am old and useless. Peasants name their favorite trees, and it is the dearest wish of
Miser Shen to be known as 'Old Generosity.'”

“I shall hang by my tail from one of your branches,” said Master Li.

“I shall drift overhead and bring rain for your roots,” I said.

“I am overcome,” Miser Shen sniffled.

“Farewell, tree.”

“Farewell, cloud.”

“Farewell, sloth.”

I pushed off, and we plunged toward the cobblestones like three bugs clinging to a
boulder. I consigned my soul to Heaven, and then the flag billowed wide, and we halted in
mid-air so suddenly that my arms were nearly pulled from their sockets.

“We really must stop somewhere and collect some pearls for Lotus Cloud,” said Miser Shen.

“And jade,” I agreed.

“Incredible,” sighed Master Li.

The wind caught the flag, and we drifted lazily away across the treetops toward a green
valley where a river sparkled in the distance. The tower dwindled behind us, and we landed
quite gently, and in the first village we bought a small boat and a great deal of wine.

The Duke of Ch'in, like all his predecessors, continued his tax trip past the terrible
Desert of Salt, and after drifting uneventfully downstream for six days Li Kao found the
landmark he was looking for. It was a tiny trail that ran from the bank toward a low hill,
and the boat was light enough so that I could carry it over my head until we reached water
again. It was a small, rapid stream, and as the days passed it grew narrower and
shallower. The air became very hot and we began to perspire freely, and on the fourth day
we floated around a bend and I realized that the stream was disappearing, vanishing into
cracks in the hard-caked earth. A blinding white glare was all that I could see of the
horizon. The boat scraped bottom, and we climbed out to the bank, and Li Kao pointed ahead
to the glare.

“The Desert of Salt,” he said. “Peasants swear that when the Duke of Ch'in passes this way
on his tax trip, his army reaches this point and then vanishes for days.”

He searched for another landmark, and pointed to a faint line that was barely visible
beneath the white expanse of salt.

“Too straight to be the work of nature,” he said. “Swirling salt will cover hoofprints and
wheel tracks, but the underlying traces of a road will remain if it is used every year.”

“Do you think that it leads to another treasure trove?” I asked.

“Well, it's an idea, and even a bad idea is better than none,” said Master Li. “Error can
point the way to truth, while empty-headedness can only lead to more empty-headedness or
to a career in politics. Miser Shen, now is the time when a wise man would turn back. If
we keep chasing the duke we will eventually get back to Lotus Cloud, but the Desert of
Salt has swallowed whole caravans, and our deaths are not likely to be pleasant.”

“What is life without Lotus Cloud?” Miser Shen asked, quite reasonably from my point of
view. “Besides, after a lifetime of disgrace, the least I can do is die with dignity.”

I was really astonished to see what a splendid fellow had been lurking behind a
skinflint's exterior, and that night I learned a great deal about Miser Shen. We emptied
our wine jars and filled them with water, and I cut the sail of the boat to make a tent.
Then we followed the faint path into the desert, and just before dawn we crawled into the
tent to protect ourselves from the direct rays of the sun. Miser Shen was afraid that we
might think badly of Lotus Cloud for having accepted the love of someone so old and ugly
as him, and he begged to be allowed to tell his story.

“Many years ago I was a happy man,” he said in a shy, halting voice. "I was a peasant, and
I was poor, but I had a small farm and a wife who loved me and the most adorable little
daughter in the world. We almost always had enough to eat, and I never dreamed of asking
for more. Then our village fell on hard times. The rain would not fall, or if it did, it
fell so hard that our dikes broke and our crops were washed away. Our animals fell sick,
and bandits bullied us and stole our rice, and then one day we learned that the Duke of
Ch'in, the father of the present duke, had doubled out taxes. We could not possibly pay
such a tax. The men of the village drew lots, and I was the unlucky one who was sent to
plead to the duke.

"There were many peasants waiting to plead for lower taxes, so I spent hours rehearsing my
speech. When my time came, I fell upon my knees in front of the throne and I told the duke
of all the hardships that had come to my village. I know that I told my story well. When I
had finished I raised my eyes to the terrible tiger mask, and the voice of metal
frightened me but the words brought joy to my heart.

" 'Shen Chunlieh,' said the duke, 'today I have heard many tales from those who wish to
cheat me, but your story rings true. I am convinced that you cannot pay my tax, and I will
grant you a very special favor. Go home to your village, and tell your family and friends
that never again shall the village of Shen Chunlieh be asked to pay taxes to the Dukes of
Ch'in, not so long as the stars shine in the sky and the fish swim in the sea.'

"I kissed the floor and bowed backward from the presence of the duke, and my feet had
wings as I raced over the hills. I could not run as fast as his horsemen could ride,
however, and when I had climbed the last hill I stared down at smoldering ruins. The duke
had sworn that never again would we pay taxes, and then he had destroyed my village as an
example to others. The only villagers who had been spared were those who had been away,
fishing at a nearby lake, and one of those was my wife. We wept in each other's arms, but
do you remember that I had a little daughter? Her name was Ah Chen, and I loved her more
than anything in the world, and she had been left behind in the village and had been
killed with the others.

"I was wild with grief. I saw the face of my little girl everywhere, and at night I would
hear her crying in the woods and I would run out and shout, 'Ah Chen, your father is
here!' They said that I would feel better if I sent a prayer to her. I could not read or
write, so I went to a priest who wrote down my prayer and burned it to send to Hell, where
my little girl had gone to be judged. I did not feel better. I could not work and I could
not sleep, and one day a traveler told of a great magician who lived in a cave at the end
of Bear's Path, high in the Omei Mountains. 'He is called the Old Man of the Mountain,'
the traveler told me. 'He is the wisest man in the world, and he can surely bring your
little girl back to life, but you must bring money. You must bring a great deal of money,
because the Old Man of the Mountain does not sell his secrets cheaply.'