Part 28 (1/2)
”For example?”
”I once rubbed our cat's fur backward and pinched his tail.”
I laughed.
My friend continued: ”Another time I forgot to feed our pigeon so it died, its insides eaten away by mice, leaving a hollow sh.e.l.l. When my grandmother saw the dried-up bird, she hit me and screamed, 'Bad luck, a big black hole!'”
We laughed at this, then I asked, ”Did your mother miss you?”
”Oh yes, she did, very much. When I was small, she visited me in the temple all the time, sometimes even stayed with me overnight without letting the nuns know. Then two years ago when I was fifteen, with my mother's consent, they shaved my head to become a nun.”
After she'd finished her story, we remained silent. Then a question slipped out of my lips before I could stop myself. ”s.h.i.+fu, did you ever have a boyfriend?”
”Of course not!”
I studied her smooth skin, oval face, and large, curious eyes. ”Do you ever...regret that?”
She seemed lost for an answer.
”I'm sorry, s.h.i.+fu. Maybe I shouldn't have asked such a secular question.”
”It's all right. You're a nice person, Miss Du. I don't mind.” She paused. ”Well, I suppose my answer is, I...I...have no idea.”
That made sense.
”Hmmm, maybe I...” She bit her lip. ”I really don't know.” Then she added, her face flushed like a tomato, ”Oh heavens, Yi Kong s.h.i.+fu hoped I'd persuade you to take refuge, and now see how I failed!”
Did she? But knowing Yi Kong's unyielding personality, I shouldn't be surprised. Now I suddenly realized that letting me see the Golden Body and sending me here were to lure me back to the empty gate! She even wanted me to donate Michael's engagement ring to her temple!
Although she'd never imposed, Yi Kong's wish that I would be a nun in her temple was as clear as the twelve scars atop her bald head. As a nun she couldn't openly object to my falling in love and getting married, yet even here, over eight hundred miles from the Golden Lotus Temple, I could feel her pull, persistent as ever, toward the empty gate. She would think of it as compa.s.sion; she didn't want me to fall into the burning h.e.l.l of human infatuation.
That's why ”form is emptiness” was Yi Kong's favorite quote from the Heart Sutra. For, she taught, human pa.s.sion, like all other forms on earth, will eventually turn into emptiness. When we see that all human suffering is caused by the impermanence of form, we are led to develop compa.s.sion. And for her, compa.s.sion was the most important thing in life-not shallow pa.s.sion, like romantic love.
Maybe we can cultivate emptiness, but still live in the world of form. Maybe even have a boyfriend. Or maybe, after all, I didn't have to be a nun to be a nun to be a nun.
Now I looked at Enlightened to Emptiness and remembered what it was like to be with Michael, to be kissed by him, to feel his warmth when I lay next to him in bed. Yes, no matter how our future would turn out to be, it's fortunate to have, at least once, a man in your life.
Then I ventured another question. ”s.h.i.+fu, do you like being a nun?”
”Yes, this is the only life I know.” She smiled, then added, ”But sometimes I also feel fed up with all the rules.”
”Such as?”
She started to recite quickly. ”We can't eat food in overly large mouthfuls. We shouldn't open our mouths when the morsel has not arrived. We can't eat food making the susasu, thutyut, susasu, thutyut, and and phuphphuph phuphphuph sound.” sound.”
When I started to laugh again, she said, ”Wait, Miss Du, I haven't finished. We, not being ill, will not make excrement, urine, phlegm, or snot on green gra.s.s.”
Then we collapsed in laughter.
32.
The Elevator Around two-thirty in the afternoon, Enlightened to Emptiness and I said good-bye to each other and Little Lam drove her to the airport. After that, I bid farewell to all the nuns and took a taxi back to the city.
A few hours later, I arrived at the Chengdu Golden Cow hotel. Although the pillars and moldings were all painted gold to match its t.i.tle, the hotel was an eyesore. Loud and cigarette-dangling-from-lips men were talking with violent hand gestures. Exhausted mothers were yelling to their kids to behave. Shabbily uniformed staff walked around slack-mouthed, grunting...
As I was hauling my luggage toward the counter, to my utter shock, I saw a familiar face appearing and disappearing among milling people.
Michael? I couldn't believe my eyes. Could it be Michael right here in Chengdu, in China, in front of my eyes? Or was it a hallucination?
Then Michael's tired face and gaunt body were quickly approaching me.
”Meng Ning!” he screamed. A few people threw him curious glances.
”Michael, is that you?!” It was now my turn to scream back.
Suddenly Michael was standing in front of me. A long silence. Then he said, trying very hard to suppress his voice and seemingly rising anger, ”Meng Ning, why did you just shut me out like this? Do you have any idea how much I worried about you? My heart is torn when I think of the danger you might have encountered in China-all alone in the middle of nowhere!”
Now a small group of people started to gather around to watch this free drama between a Chinese woman and an American barbarian in a cheap hotel in this Heavenly Capital-Chengdu.
”Michael, please, people are watching. Let's talk later after we've gotten a room. Please...”
”f.u.c.k these people! I don't care about them, I only care about you! Haven't you realized that? If I hadn't asked your mother, I'd have never found out where you are. How can you do this to me?”
”Michael, please, I'm so sorry, so terribly sorry...please lower your voice and...can we talk later?” I was scared and pleading. I'd never seen Michael so angry before.
He demanded, ”Then answer me!”
My voice came out like a wounded animal's. ”I...just wanted some time to think things over.”
”Then have you finished yet?”
”Forgive me, Michael. I'm so sorry. Please...”
After some time, he finally emitted a soft, ”All right,” then pulled me to him to plant a kiss on my forehead.
The crowd applauded and cheered.
A middle-aged woman split a big smile, while quoting a popular Chinese proverb. ”Yes, when a family is harmonious, ten thousand things will be prosperous!”
A cigarette dangling between yellowish teeth, a young man echoed with another popular saying-”Yes, fighting at the head of the bed and making up at its foot!”-to another loud round of applause.
Michael cast the onlookers angry glances, then turned back to me. ”Are these people making fun of me?”
”No, Michael, they're happy that we stopped fighting! Please, let's go.”
In silence, we lugged our bags to the counter, behind which sat a man in a navy blue uniform and a fortyish woman.