Part 4 (1/2)

”It's not for me,” Minli said, and she smiled mysteriously. ”It's for the monkeys.”

”The monkeys?” the dragon said. ”Why? If you mean it as a gift or as a way to bribe them, it will not work. They will take it and eat it, but they still will not let you through.”

”That is what I am expecting,” Minli said, as she filled her pot with water and uncooked rice. She was bursting to tell Dragon her idea, but wasn't sure how much the monkeys understood of their words. She looked at him with sparkling eyes, but he only stared back blankly.

”You are?” the dragon said. ”I do not understand.”

”Don't worry,” Minli said, and with her eagerness she felt like the water she was boiling. ”I think I know how we can pa.s.s the monkeys.”

The dragon watched as Minli stirred the big pot of rice. Through the rising steam, he could see the beady eyes of all the monkeys glittering through the branches like hundreds of diamonds as they watched as well. ”The monkeys are watching,” he whispered to Minli.

”Good,” she whispered back, ”I hope they are.”

When the rice was done, the pot was overflowing with snowy white rice. It was so heavy that to take it off the fire to cool she had to ask the dragon to move it for her. Minli had the dragon place it very close to the trees where the monkeys were watching. Then, Minli tied her fishnet over the rice and pot.

As Minli and the dragon turned away, they could hear the monkeys chattering.

”That fishnet will not stop the monkeys from taking the rice,” the dragon said, ”It is tightly woven, but their hands will probably fit through.”

”I know,” Minli said as she put out the fire. ”Let's pretend that we think the rice is safe and we are letting it cool.”

Though puzzled, the dragon nodded. They placed themselves a far distance from the rice, yet still within sight, put out the fire, and pretended to go to sleep.

But Minli could not help peeking. Though she tried to lie still, she was filled with excitement. Would her plan work? Would the monkeys take the rice?

In the bright light of the moon, the monkeys glanced slyly at them and stole over to the rice. The dragon was right; just as he said, the fishnet could not keep the monkeys from the rice. Their slender hands slid through the holes of the fishnet and each grabbed two big fistfuls of rice. But as the monkeys tried to carry the rice away, the net caught them. The holes in the net were large enough for their empty hands to fit through, but not large enough for their full fists!

The monkeys screamed and pulled; and Minli and the dragon no longer pretended to be asleep. They couldn't help laughing as they watched the monkeys struggle, each monkey trying to punch the air and each other with their trapped fists.

Minli quickly packed her things and the monkeys screeched and shrieked as they pa.s.sed. The heavy pot of rice shook as the monkeys fought violently to get free. But the fishnet was strong and well woven, and since the monkeys were too greedy to let go of the rice, Minli and the dragon entered the peach grove and continued through the forest.

CHAPTER 15.

Ma and Ba sat in front of a small fire that Ba had built. Their disappointment at not finding Minli forced them to admit their exhaustion, and they had slept under the canopy of tree branches during the day, leaving their silver goldfish as a guardian.

By the time they awoke, it was late afternoon, but neither of them made any attempt to move. Neither spoke, but both knew they were unsure whether to go forward or go back.

While the sun burst into multicolored flames on the horizon, its last wave goodbye before surrendering to the night, Ma handed Ba a bowl of rice porridge. Neither of them spoke as they ate, both thinking about the goldfish man's words. Should they let Minli try to change their fortune? Should they stop looking and, like the goldfish man said, trust her? Ba sighed.

”Trying to find Minli is like trying to find the paper of happiness,” Ba said aloud to himself.

”What paper of happiness?” a voice said. Ba looked sharply around. Who had said that? He looked at Ma, but she continued to stir her porridge, obviously unaware. Ba shook his head. Perhaps his weariness was making him imagine things.

”Tell the story, old man. She's listening,” the voice spoke again. ”She won't admit it, but she wants to hear it too.”

Ba looked around again. It seemed like the voice was coming from... the goldfish? He looked closely at the bowl. Was it the firelight that made it glow like that? The fish stared back at him calmly, as if waiting. So Ba took a deep breath and began the story.

THE STORY OF THE.

PAPER OF HAPPINESS.

Once, a long, long time ago, a family grew famous for their happiness. It seemed odd that this would happen, but they were truly an unusual household. Even though aunts and uncles, cousins and grandchildren lived together, there was never a cross word or unhappy noise. All were polite and thoughtful to each other; even the chickens did not fight each other for feed. It was said even the babies were born smiling.

Stories of their happiness spread like seeds in the wind, sprouting and blooming everywhere, until finally even young Magistrate Tiger heard of them. Even though he had just begun his position (this was before his son was born), the bellowing, roaring magistrate was already called Magistrate Tiger. ”Impossible,” he scoffed. ”The stories are exaggerated. No family can be that happy.” But even so, he was curious and sent an emissary to the family to observe.

The emissary returned, awed. ”Your Magnificence, it is just as the stories say,” he said. ”I observed the family for a full moon and not one sad or angry word was even whispered. The adults are loving and faithful, the children are gracious and respectful, and all honor the grandfather with an esteem that rivals the G.o.ds. Even the dogs do not bark, but wait patiently to be fed. The family circle is one of complete harmony.”

”That's impossible,” the magistrate said, astonished. But as he thought about it, the more he began to wonder. What was the secret that the family had? They must have some magical charm or hidden knowledge. And this began to irritate him. He began to covet the family's happiness. ”I am the magistrate,” he thought. ”If there is a secret to happiness, I I should have it.” should have it.”

So he called his emissary to him and presented him with an empty, heavily encrusted chest and a company of soldiers.

”Return to the family,” Magistrate Tiger ordered, ”and tell them that I want the secret of their happiness put in this box. If they do not do so, have the soldiers destroy their home.”

The emissary did as he was told. When the troop of soldiers surrounded the house, the family looked fearful. But when the magistrate's demand was announced, the grandfather smiled.

”That is easy enough,” he said and he had the trunk brought into the house and returned in moments. ”It is done. I've put the secret of our happiness inside the box,” he said, ”and you may take it. We hope it serves our magistrate well.”

The emissary was slightly surprised at the ease of his task, but could find no objection, so turned the soldiers and the box around and began to travel back to the palace.

The emissary knew the magistrate would be impatient for his return, so the soldiers marched through the night, with only the light of the moon to guide them. The treasure box, lying on a platform carried by four men, seemed to glow.

However, as the ground grew rocky and steep, a sudden wind blew - like the mountain itself was yawning. One of the soldiers stumbled in the rising dust, and the box crashed to the ground. The lid of the box flew off and, like a freed b.u.t.terfly, a single sheet of paper fluttered out.

”Get it!” the emissary shouted at the soldiers. ”Don't lose the secret!”

But despite his yells, the paper seemed to be able to escape the soldiers' flailing arms. One soldier almost caught it, his very fingertips touching the page, but another sudden wind burst through the air and stole it away. Silently, the emissary and the soldiers watched the paper lift higher and higher in the night sky, until it overlapped the moon and disappeared.

The emissary had no choice but to return to the palace with an empty box. As he relayed the story, Magistrate Tiger, not surprisingly, was enraged.

”You lost it! It was a paper?” the magistrate roared. ”What was on it?”

”Your Magnificence,” the emissary trembled, ”as I felt the secret was for your eyes only, I did not read the paper before it was lost. However, as it was in the air, all could see that there was a single line of words on it.”

”What did the line say?” the magistrate demanded.

”I don't know, Magistrate,” the emissary said, ”but there was one soldier who almost caught it and was closest to it. Perhaps he was able to read the line.”

So the soldier was called in, and very humbly did he bow. He was little more than a boy and had only recently joined the magistrate's army from a small, poor, faraway village.

”You,” the magistrate said, ”you were the only soldier close enough to the paper to read the line. What did it say?”