Great Sage Above Brockton [Worm/Chinese Myth] Sakadagami 2.07

Fifteenth, a lovely night and feast; 

Spring hues blend with the first full moon. 

Floral lights o'erhang busy shops 

As people sing the songs of peace. 

You see only bright lights in the six streets and three marts 

When a mirror rises in midair. 

The moon seems like a silver dish the River God pushed up; 

The lights look like brocade carpets woven by divine maidens. 

The lights in moonlight

Add one measure of light; 

The moon shines on the lights, 

Enhancing their brilliance. 

There are countless iron chains and star-bridges to see, 

And endless lamp wicks and flaming torches to watch. 

The snowflake lantern 

And the plum-flower lantern 

Seem to be chiseled from spring ice. 

• Journey to the West, chapter 91

“I say, Peizhi-xiansheng, this is quite the surprise! I was completely unaware this was a time of festivities!” Wukong sipped his tea and turned to his disciple, who was doing the same. “Dear girl, did you know about this?”

Taylor blinked, then her gaze drifted to the circular bushel of leaves hanging on the wall. Two green banners hung above it, sporting colored drawings of bells and snowflakes.

“Christmas…oh, right,” she said. “It’s Christmas.” She slowly nodded and continued speaking, though her tone grew bewildered. “Huh, I actually forgot it was Christmas time. That’s a first. I mean, I saw decorations and kitschy ads on the street, but it didn’t…” she kept mumbling as she fiddled with her cup.

His dear host nodded sympathetically, garbed in a thick woolen shirt he called a ‘sweater’. With that much wool, it would make even a skinless yaksha sweat!

“I get it. Everything’s so wild that the rest of the world kind of zones out, right?” He scratched the back of his head and chuckled. “I actually missed this year’s Thanksgiving because of that. Didn’t even know the holiday happened until one of my friends called in to wish me a merry Turkey Day.” The chuckle that followed wasn’t all humorous. “Your life gets turned upside-down and thrown around like you’re in a washing machine, and things like holidays don’t really register until the last second, if at all.”

Wukong felt a pang of understanding at his words. During his journey, he often longed to celebrate festivals like the Ullambana and Summer Festival with his subjects and brethren at Flower-Fruit Mountain, but the journey took precedence. And usually a new guai tried to eat his master during those times. There were a few villages and towns whose company they enjoyed whenever a festival struck, so it wasn’t as though the days passed without merriment. In either case, feasts always presented themselves at the end.

He gazed outside at an empty street and a sky covered in grey. “Rather bleak for festival time. Is it the standard for the season?”

“Here in Brockton, definitely. Winters aren’t much fun here. Last time it snowed was two years ago, and everyone was happy for a white Christmas.”

At the mention of the word ‘snow’, Wukong perked up with a grin and leaned forward. “Snow? Does it snow in these lands? Where?”

Peizhi blinked, hand hovering above the teapot. “Uh…anywhere north of Florida and east of Texas in winter, I guess. Brockton Bay’s a weird case. We don’t get much snow in the winter, if any.”

While the names his host uttered were unfamiliar to the Monkey King - yet he did recall seeing them on Peizhi’s world map - the intent was not missed. With a dejected sigh, he slumped in his chair and returned his gaze to the window, eyes swimming with forlornness. “A shame. I miss the sight of white carpets upon rooftops and mountains. Alas, one cannot choose the natural whims of the weather. This Old Sun smelled no true dragons here either, so he could not ask them for a quick favor. The paperwork alone would be worth even a single snowfall.”

As he finished that sentence, he scoffed. ‘Amitabha, when have I ever before conceded that the Court’s infernal bureaucracy would be acceptable?’

“...right,” Peizhi trailed off, the same befuddled stare he’d seen many times before on his face. Was he unclear with his words? It couldn’t be simpler! Well, he had no desire to delve into the intricacies and migraines of the Celestial Bureaucracy; one explanation from his attendant was enough to last his entire immortal lifespan, and if a conversation killer could be summed up in a single topic, that would prove the sharpest blade.

“So, dear disciple, what does this… Christmas… celebrate?” he asked, snapping the girl away from her mumbling. Her brow furrowed again, giving the impression of an owl staring at a fallen leaf who couldn’t decide whether it was a stray rodent or a flat rock.

“It’s supposed to celebrate the birth of Jesus, but these days it’s an excuse to get together with friends and family and exchange gifts with them.” Her mouth flickered in a faint grimace before she schooled her expression. “There are a lot of other traditions too, but that’s the basis of it all.”

Wukong scratched his chin. “Jesus…Jesus…the name rings a distant bell, but not a loud one. Who is he?”

Taylor gave him another befuddled glance and slumped in her chair. “This is gonna take a while, isn’t it?” she mumbled, then straightened up. “Okay, I’m not religious in the slightest, but here’s the Cliffnotes version.”

She launched into a hurried explanation, and Wukong listened attentively. This Christianity, apparently the chief faith of Meiguo, was not a faith he’d seen before, but some of Taylor’s descriptions shook memories in his head. Of caravans and traders along the Silk Road, sharing meals and stories with Master Tang and his friends over a fire. Some of their wares and origins were not too dissimilar from what his disciple was describing. Curious.

Shelving those memories aside for the moment, Wukong kept paying attention to her lecture as Peizhi boiled more water, and every so often, the Monkey King would chime in with questions.

“A crucified god? Well, that is rather peculiar. What good could a crucified god do for his people? Seems like it’d be rather difficult to move around while nailed to a wooden post.”

“The Bible said that by dying on the cross, he sacrificed himself to absolve mankind of its sins. Okay, now that I’m saying it out loud, it does sound kind of weird.” 

“Hm. Admirable ideals, but martyrdom seldom means total mercy. And he was the son of this almighty formless god? How could he be born if he was formless?”

“Well, there’s the whole thing with the Virgin Mary and the Holy Spirit, how he’s both the son of God and God himself… and I’m not sure how to explain it without messing it up.”

“Oh no, on the contrary! Reincarnation through avatars is a common occurrence, though you require special permission for it. The whole virginity issue is the puzzling factor. How could a woman give birth without a male seed? Even Shakyamuni had a blood father in Suddhodana, despite being a reincarnation. That rubbish story with the Yellow Emperor was also nothing more than an exaggerated omen. I have it on good authority that Fubao was leaving a rather exotic party with her husband when the lightning struck.”

That remark earned him another round of twitches, though he’d caught a glimmer of recognition from his host towards the end.  

Taylor then segued into more of the actual rites of Christmas, and Wukong found them rather endearing. Huddled near a fire before a decorated tree, singing songs, and eating good food were always welcome traditions. And once again, he lamented that no snow graced this city today; from her descriptions, such celebrations draped in the pale cloak of winter would have been a marvel.

“Chestnuts over a fire… hah, the mere mention already waters my lips! Do you enjoy them?”

“Eh, I’m more partial to turkey. Mom… she cooked up a great cranberry sauce.”

“Peizhi-xiansheng mentioned that word. What’s a turkey?”

“...a type of chicken. Don’t they -” she cut herself off. “Right, no turkey in China.”

“Even a wise monkey such as myself always has more to learn.”

A few more explanations on the various meals and sweets - ‘so that was the striped candy I saw hanging on stores as of late!’ - later, Taylor moved to the gift-giving tradition. When she mentioned a ‘Santa Claus’, a figure that children believed entered houses and left presents, Wukong asked for a description. With every feature he described, his smile grew and grew until it threatened to split his face.

“Are you okay?” she asked with confusion. “Okay, now I know you’re messing with me. I’m pretty sure they’ve heard of Santa Claus in-”

Wukong clutched his belly and howled with laughter, almost tipping over as his legs kicked the air. From behind the veil of joyous tears, Peizhi and Taylor remained ever-befuddled.

“Oh dear Budai, what a hobby you have found!”

Peizhi blinked. “Budai? Wukong, Taylor just said -”

“Come now, Peizhi-xiansheng! Do you not see? A jolly fat man with white whiskers, carrying a bottomless bag filled with gifts to children who leave him offerings of milk and sweets? And I would’ve never come up with it myself! Oh, joyous day indeed!” He wiped a tear from his eye and leaned forward. “Though I do ponder his choice of animal companions. I’ve never heard of these ‘elves’, and these ‘rain deer’ hardly sound fit to blend into a snowy environment. I wonder if his disciples help him read all those letters the children send him.”

“I said reindeer, not rain deer, Master Wukong,” Taylor deadpanned. 

Peizhi, meanwhile, bore a ponderous look as he clutched his mug, mumbling under his breath. “Huh, they really do look alike. Why didn’t I see it until now…?”

“Well, that makes more sense. He always loved to travel, and I knew he’d get tired of hobbling along mountain roads. A snow chariot sounds rather novel, but horses are preferable in such cases. His sack is a great deal smaller and more comfortable; he wouldn’t need to hoist it over his shoulder if it were bottomless.”

Taylor took a deep breath and a long sip from her mug. She wordlessly pushed it over Peizhi with a limp hand. Yet Wukong noticed, even with her exasperation, her lips always twitched upward, and the heaviness in her voice seemed lighter.

“I am curious, dear Taylor, where did all these traditions come from? It sounds rather hodgepodge, and I do not believe you are certain of some of them yourself.”

She opened her mouth, then paused before rubbing her chin. rubbed her chin. “Well, it came from two sources, and over the years, they were mixed up together. Back in medieval times, people used to celebrate the winter solstice with evergreen trees and bushes like that wreath. I think it’s originally British or Celtic…”

Wukong nodded along as Taylor began explaining the festival’s origin. A foreign celebration seeping into another culture and transformed by it was a common sight; many local festivals were fused with Buddhist and Daoist traditions, adapting and changing to suit the times. From what his disciple was describing, this festival of Christmas underwent quite the transformation indeed.

And so they kept talking, and even Peizhi chimed in with his own commentaries from time to time. Brief stories of past celebrations were exchanged, each with their respective fathers. When the subject threatened to sink the atmosphere into melancholy, Peizhi eventually asked about Taylor’s progress. She was reluctant to share at first, no doubt in fear of stoking his ire, but Wukong waved her worries aside and said she was progressing smoothly for a beginner.

“I still don’t get why I had to spin around fifty times with my wings out. It’s not like I can see anything I want to hit.”

“For balance, of course! Unsure footing leads to treacherous slippage!” And on a completely unrelated note, spinning tops were delightful toys, and a glowing aura added quite the visual punch to their whirling.

The sky outside retained its veil of gray, but Wukong could tell the sun had greatly shifted its position. A warm merriment filled the room, borne of the most peculiar circumstances and blossomed into a truly unique bouquet, if still a tad awkward. Were his questions so odd?

‘Hm, a thought for another day,’ Wukong mused, then smiled at his mug. ‘Now, I must finish savoring this magnificent drink!’ 

He took a long sip from the foamy brew and smacked his lips. What a treat!

“I say, this ‘eggnog’ is spectacular! I’ve never drunk eggs in such a fashion! And is that cinnamon dancing on my tongue?” He raised his mug and dipped his head. “Once again, I am blessed by the touch of your enchanted spoon!”

“Th-thanks. I’d pour in some alcohol, but I’d rather avoid tempting the minor,” he replied with a gesture to Taylor, who shrugged. 

“Pah, a shame. I miss the taste of good rice wine.” 

Wukong’s sensitive ears twitched as the pealing laughter of children echoed down the street. Glancing outside, he saw two boys chasing one another with fake swords, lost in the jungle of their imaginations. 

“Hmm, correct this Old Sun if he’s wrong, but I recall seeing toys with motifs of Christmas in your shop.” Peizhi nodded. “Have you sold any?”

He waved in a so-and-so gesture. “Yeah, just the usual holiday kitsch and deco. I try to stock up on more exciting options when I can, but supply’s always a tricky issue in this city. It’s gotten a little better, but it might take a few more months for bigger shipments to come in. The ABB had a stranglehold on most of the income revenues here, so with them… scattered, we might see an upswing.” He hummed noncommittally. “Guess I should be happy that kitsch still sells.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” Taylor asked, though she slumped when Peizhi turned to her in surprise. 

“Hm, I never really thought about it… one sec.” He put down his mug and left the room in a hurry. A couple of minutes later, he came back holding something in his hand, and two parcels tucked beneath his arm. Curious, Wukong tilted his head but held his tongue.

“Believe it or not, but people still buy these, even if it’s just for decoration,” Peizhi said as he placed the item on the table, drawing the eye of the monkey and his disciple. It was a tiny metal tent, hosting tinier statues of horse-riding children under its red canopy. As he pressed a button on the side, the shopkeeper stood back and the toy suddenly lit up with beautiful lights. The horses rotated around the tent as ringing bells played a cheery tune from within the contraption. 

‘Oh my, how delightful!’ Wukong thought as he peered closer with a smile. It was indeed a toy, but he found no shame in admiring a trinket used to entertain children. It bore no gilding or precious gems, and the metal was not a rare ore harvested from a mountain’s heart. Nay, it was the equivalent of a simple puppet, sold to children during the Lantern Festival. 

Yet if it brought a child happiness… then all the jade and pearls in the earth and seas would be worth it.

As Wukong kept his curious gaze on it, he heard Peizhi chuckle awkwardly again. “To be honest, I don't know why I like this one. It’s kinda cheesy, and the kids around here don’t care for these kinds of toys. Action figures or video games are usually the go-to choice, but I can’t bring myself to drop them from the supply list. Baba always liked them, though; he used to always bring one to any holiday dinner we were invited to.”

“...it’s cheesy, but it’s got that old-timey vibe to it,” said Taylor, who also leaned in for a closer look. Wukong gingerly traced a finger along the rotating tent, feeling his tail wag like a dog’s. A hardly fitting display for a monkey, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The idiots of the Court laugh at much subtler failings.

“Pray tell, how does it work? Where does the music come from?”

“You turn it on and it runs until you turn it off. The music comes from the speakers on the side,” Peizhi tapped the bottom half of the toy, dotted with needlepoint holes. “I think Baba had a wind-up version stored somewhere, but the electric model’s just as good.”

“Electric…” the word danced his tongue and rolled over his taste buds. “I have heard that word often since coming here, but I am still unsure of its meaning. Could you elaborate, disciple?”

“Uh… it runs on electricity? You know, what lights up everything here?” He directed his full attention to her, eager to learn more. To his dismay, her jaw was one twitch away from dropping and her eyebrows were on the verge of bursting into dance. She turned to Peizhi, who bit his lip and gave her a tight smile, before turning back to him.

“Okay, how the hell do you not know-”

“Um, I’m all for a science lecture, but before you start,” the shopkeeper hurriedly intervened. “I’d like to show you something else.”

Wukong’s curiosity rose further as Peizhi placed the two packages on the table and pushed one toward Taylor. “I know this is kind of out of left field, but it wouldn’t be much of a Christmas without presents. It’s not exactly glamorous, but…” he gestured to the box. With a bit of surprise on her face and a measure of tentativeness, Taylor pulled open the package to reveal a stack of thick, yellowish rice paper. “It’s for calligraphy. There’s an arts and crafts store two streets west of the park. They keep a small stock of calligraphy tools that the old folks like to use. I noticed that brush and inkstone you have, and I figured you’d want something to actually draw on. It’s better suited for ink than regular paper.”

Taylor blinked with some incredulity. “Are you… are you sure? I mean, I’m basically freeloading and we’re total strangers.”

“It’s fine. I figured a normal celebration with your family wouldn’t be feasible, and like I told you, I’m fine with you staying here.” His smile was uncertain, yet contained as much warmth as he could muster. “Besides, Baba would rise from the grave and school me hard if I left a troubled kid to celebrate Christmas alone.”

“...thank you,” she whispered, holding back a sniffle as she closed the box. Wukong smiled warmly as she brought the gift close to her and held it tightly. She deserved a measure of happiness as much as any child, regardless of her circumstances. 

“Now for you…” Peizhi turned to Wukong and huffed uneasily. “I didn’t know what to get you. But I remembered that I want to keep using my phone instead of begging for it every day, so I’m sparing myself some future headaches.” He pushed the box to Wukong, who eagerly tore open the cover. Inside rested a small rectangular device next to a pair of cord-tied earphones and a small cable.

“Pray tell, what is it? It bears resemblance to your ‘phones’, but I do not understand this wheel.”

“It’s a music player. It’s like my phone, but it only plays music. Figured you should have one before you do anything rash. You use the wheel to scroll through the songs and press the button to pick one.”

The Monkey King felt his breath taken away, the device in his hand feeling heavier all of a sudden. 

“My dear friend… I cannot accept this. You already host me and my disciple under your roof and offer us your food. But to receive this gift worthy of emperors? This Old Sun is ashamed and unworthy of your kindness!” He rose and bowed deeply to his host, gratitude filling every fibre of his stony being. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s fine! It’s fine!” he exclaimed, waving his arms. “Just be careful when using it, I’m pretty sure they weren’t built to withstand Lung-level button mashing.”

Wukong nodded fervently. “I shall treat it with the care reserved for the Jade Emperor’s finest porcelain!” Wait, didn’t he break those?

“That looks kinda expensive,” Taylor noted as she peered over his shoulder, further compounding his shame.

“Well, I had some good sales…” Peizhi replied with a high-strung chuckle. His disciple flashed him a skeptical look, but didn’t comment further. The two mortals then showed him how to use the device and connect the earphones, and once he placed them inside his ear, he pressed the button and his world was filled with flutes and drums.

‘Such music! It’s as though the forest came to life!

A few seconds later, a light-hearted male voice began to sing, and Wukong guffawed heavily. 

‘Oh, Peizhi-xiansheng, this Old Sun bows to your taste!’

The next hour passed in a blur as Wukong danced around the kitchen, a lineup of music playing vivaciously in his ears with the touch of a button. Oh, how he reveled and frolicked in the house, even as his dear host tried to calm him down. But he couldn’t help it; what else could a monkey do but allow his body to dance to such novel tunes! 

‘Wherever this Be-la-fon-tay is, may Ling Lun and Di Ku bless his hands and his descendants for ten thousand lifetimes!’

But just as a new song readied itself for another bout of rapturous dancing, a tap on the shoulder drew him back to the waking world. “Hm? Is something the matter, my friend?”

“Um, Taylor left a few minutes ago. I thought she was in her room, but she’s not even downstairs.”

Wukong blinked and plucked the earphones out. That was unusual indeed. “She left, you say? Did she say why?”

He shook his head. “I figured she wanted to put her gift next to her bed, but I… didn’t pay much attention, sorry.”

Wukong nodded and stroked his chin. “I see. Well, this Old Sun better find her then, no?”

Stuffing his device into his ebony robes, he opened the kitchen window before Pezhi could get another word in. He jumped out the window and transformed into a swallow, flying into the chilly winter sky. Lights shone from every house, and faint laughter tickled his ears. Even against the grey clouds and bleakness of the city, the world seemed a tad brighter. 

Now, in a maze of buildings such as this, finding any mortal would be difficult alone. Fortunately, Wukong was a resourceful and sagacious monkey; Taylor’s scent and her apparition’s warped visage were well-known to him by now, and after a quick flight at swallow’s speed, he spotted the girl running through the streets with her hood drawn over her head, avoiding the main roads.

Now, what could she possibly be doing? He had half a mind to swoop down and inquire, but his spirit of inquiry demanded he shadow her first. So that’s what he did. A few minutes later, rows of familiar houses appeared on the street, and Wukong knew exactly where his wayward apprentice was headed. 

Hmph, I should have expected this. The ladle of remembrance does not sieve the good and ill from the sea of the mind. He flew to another rooftop, transformed back into his normal self, and plucked a hair from his head. Upon blowing on it, a clone appeared before him in a flash of light, robes and tail swishing in the wind.

“Would you kindly scout ahead and remove potential disturbances to my disciple’s spontaneous journey, my extraordinarily handsome friend? This Old Sun would rather spare her from further distress on this day of merriment.”

The clone clapped his hands with a cackle and leaped away. The moment he vanished beyond the skyline, Wukong turned into a swallow again and caught up to Taylor, who had slowed down and proceeded with a cautious gait. He reminded himself to bestow her lessons on discretion; she appeared more like a lurking guai searching for a meal than an innocent girl!

He was broken from his thoughts when even more familiar houses showed up on the road. Up ahead, a howl reached his ears and he saw a silhouette carrying something large and black over its shoulder as it disappeared into the neighborhood. Hm, perhaps he should’ve asked for a lighter hand?

Bah, it was their folly that they chose to lie in wait for my disciple.

One stretch of the road later, Wukong saw the girl running towards her house. It was as gloomy and miserable as the last time he visited, if not more so. The grass around the house had grown thick as a beard and sported weeds. A small pile of letters lay on the porch, which creaked with every trembling step Taylor took. 

Landing on the wooden platform, Wukong chirped loudly, drawing her attention. After a moment of staring, she gave him a sardonic smile. She then took a deep breath and knocked on the door thrice.

The only reply was silence.

Three more times she knocked thrice, and the response was no different than before. A pained look crossed her face before she shook her head and reached for the woven mat in front of the door. 

A key? Ah, clever.

The house was empty as before - nay, it bore some semblance of life last time. Now it reminded Wukong of the many abandoned huts and manses along the road to India. Not ransacked or pillaged, but discarded, bearing ghosts of a life once lived. Sometimes literally. The House of Hebert had bare traces of life - his nose could tell that much, even as a swallow - but it was clear no one had been here for days.

A despondent Taylor wandered the house, searching aimlessly. Wukong followed her up to her room, where the bed was made perfectly and the desk was covered in dust. After staring at it for some time, her fists clenching back and forth, she took a piece of paper and a pen from her desk drawer and began writing. The words did not flow without pain, and more than once, a sob leaked from her hunched form, and the writing tool threatened to snap in her grip. But in the end, she put down the pen and carried the newly-written missive to the living room, where she laid it upon the table. 

Wukong flew over and thought of looking at the paper… but it was not his place. Whatever words she left for her father, they were hers and hers alone.

And so as the girl hurried back into the labyrinth of cracked roads, grey walls, and festive cheer, Wukong mused over her actions. This was clearly a deeply personal matter with her father and he understood her not telling him… but to hurry out without even telling his host?

‘Stubborn as the pillars of the universe, that girl. Heh, she would’ve snuck off even if I’d stopped her. Yet I must acknowledge that she cannot venture into dangerous waters in her current budding state. The novelty of constant rescue has worn itself out long ago for this stone monkey. Perhaps some discipline is in order…hmm, I was considering introducing the basics of combat in our next session. I wonder if she’ll enjoy the Ordeal of the Scorching Foot as much as I did?’