Friday, 19 June 2015

Journey to the North (Part 2) - Gold

A novice monk travels with his tutor, a master sculptor, to visit the stone Buddhas of north China. He is tormented by a vivid dream of an idyllic rural life outside the monastery, and is tempted to leave.  (Part 2) While his master falls ill, he meets a young nun and finds himself attracted to her.


Stupa, Wutaishan (Photo: M. Griffiths)

A story in 6 parts.
 
Your feedback would be greatly appreciated to improve this story. Thanks!
 

Read Journey to the North (Part 1) - Dust here.


Journey to the North
 
 
Part 2
 
Gold



In the late afternoon their weary legs dragged Tian and Master Shi to the top of a low ridge. In the distance, glowing white in the sun, was the tall Tibetan style stupa of the Tayuan temple in the centre of the valley, nestled among the five peaks. They had reached Wutaishan, one of the four holy Buddhist mountains of China.

They walked down into the small town in the valley and found a residence for visiting monks. Master Shi, at the insistence of the abbot of a nearby temple, reluctantly agreed to rest while Tian went out to fetch food from a monastery dining hall.

Tian carried their bowls in small bag over his shoulder. He wandered across a paved courtyard and then began to cross an arched stone bridge that spanned a stream. A shadow fell across the worn cobble stones in front of him. He looked up and saw a nun walking towards him. She was young, perhaps still a novice like him, and wore long grey robes buttoned down the front with knotted cloth buttons. On her feet she wore brown cloth shoes. Her shaved head was like a ripe peach, her ears small and delicate. But it was not that that held his attention. It was her smile. Her red lips curled up at each end, framing her small, even, white teeth. It was a vision that reminded him of Guanyin, the Goddess of Mercy, herself.

“Good evening brother.” Novice Dai nodded to him, hands pressed together in front of her.

Tian stared, his mouth hung open in slack silence. Then with great effort, he blinked. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“I see you are dusty from your travels. Have you come far?”

He closed his mouth and nodded. His face blushed crimson. He raised his hands in front of his chest, palms together, then  raised them to his forehead. “My apologies sister.” he stammered, bowing his head. “I am not used to talking to...” He raised his eyes to hers then lowered them again, and fixed his gaze on her mouth. “I mean my master and I have been on the road for many days. We were caught in a dust storm”

“Have you eaten?” she asked.

“I am fetching food now for my master. He is resting. I fear the travel is not good for his health. I hope he will agree to stay here and recover before we begin our journey home.” He blushed again. “Forgive me for talking so much. I...” he spluttered.

“Not at all.” She smiled again. “The monk’s dining hall is that way,” she turned and pointed. “I hope your master’s health improves soon.”

“Thank you sister.” He bowed deeply.

He watched in silence as she crossed the bridge and walked turned toward a cluster of buildings in the distance. His heart pounded in his chest and his head felt light. He gazed at her retreating back until she disappeared out of sight through a large gate. He grasped his prayer beads and chanted all the way to the dining hall, but could not dispel the floating sensation that suffused his previously tired limbs, or the smile that brightened his face. Master Shi was right. One could see many wondrous things sights while traveling. Perhaps he should not be in such a hurry to go home after all.

That night Tian dreamed again. The same farm, stone house, crops in the fields. This time he also became aware of himself. He was a grown up. This was not a dream from his childhood as his monk teachers suggested. He was an adult and he felt sure this time the house was his; his home, his own farm. He heard the woman singing and was spellbound by the sound. But yet again he could not see the source of the voice.

He awoke early, restless to find what eluded him in sleep. In the morning Master Shi did not stir for morning prayers. When Tian brought him breakfast his appetite was meagre. Tian’s concern turned to agitation. He left him resting and sought out someone to help him find a doctor. When he returned Master Shi began to tell him about the golden Buddha in south China. Of course Tian already knew of the Donglin Temple, for it was there that the Pure Land sect had originated nearly 3000 years before, in the year 386 in the old time calendar.

The golden Buddha was famous in all the six kingdoms as the biggest bronze Buddha in China, a 48-metre tall statue of Amitabha, gilded with many kilograms of pure gold. It was constructed in the time of the Red Dynasty, with donations from many thousands of people, including the wealthy from the drowned cities of Hong Kong and Shanghai. Their generosity had not saved their cities from the sea but Tian hoped it had brought them closer to the Pure Land. Some considered it karma, but Tian’s tutors had warned him not to take pleasure at the misfortune of others. At the very least the old times provided a lot of examples from all around the world of how ignorance, greed and a lack of compassion can result in severe consequences.

The donations may not have prevented them suffering the consequences of environmental destruction and economic and social disruption, but the result, his master enthused, was a sight to behold. “I have never been there but I believe the Golden Buddha is the most wondrous thing in the world.”

Tian wondered why Master Shi was telling him about this now. He tried to quiet him and asked him to rest until the doctor came but he insisted on describing it in great detail until the doctor arrived. A senior medical monk and an assistant entered their small room and asked him some questions. The monk took Master Shi’s pulses and made notes in a note book. They talked briefly to Master Shi then left. Tian tried to judge from their words and expressions how serious it was but they both remained encouraging but vague. Tian accompanied them back to the doctor’s dispensary and waited until the medicine was ready. He carried back a pungent brew and slowly spooned it into his master’s mouth. Master Shi screwed up his face at the bitter taste but determinedly took it all. Then he settled back on his bed and closed his eyes.

Tian sat with him for a time until he seemed to drift off to sleep, then he left the monk’s hostel and visited a nearby temple to light incense and pray for Master Shi’s recovery. He returned briefly to see that Master Shi was still sleeping and so ventured out again. He looked to the west and the small town that served the valley and its many pilgrims, and then to the east. His is eyes beheld the hill nearby and followed the stone steps leading up to the ancient temple at the top. There were one thousand and eighty of them, ten times the sacred number of beads of his rosary, one hundred and eight.

He walked to the base of the hill and began to climb. His enjoyed the feel of his legs pushing against the stones and his breath becoming faster and deeper. Up ahead of him he glimpsed a familiar grey robed figure. He sped up and came alongside her.

Dai stopped and turned. “Good morning brother.” She bowed slightly and smiled.
 
Tian bowed low. He felt his face flush again and fought to control his laboured breathing. “Good morning sister.” He looked up at her again and his face broke into a broad grin. “I am pleased to see you. I wanted to thank for your assistance yesterday."

He looked up the hill. “Perhaps we can climb together?” She nodded, hiding a small smile.
 
****
 
 
Your feedback would be greatly appreciated to improve this story. Thanks!

Read  Journey to the North (Part 1) - Dust, here.
Read  Journey to the North (Part 3) - Stone, here.

You can find more post-industrial stories here or at the tab above. China stories here.

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