THE BRIDE'S BONES

A mother bargains away her dead daughter’s remains as a ghost bride to secure herself in her old age and satisfy ancient Chinese traditions, but what happens if the dead bride doesn’t want to go?

Two mothers of Hunan Province mourn their only child this night.

In the house of Ushi, the keening cries of Yun Ru, mother of Chen, pierce the walls of her opulent home like knives, unnerving the servants, and driving her husband, Qui, to the livestock sheds. Here, his silent tears mingle with cattle dung, while Yun Ru’s fall upon silken pillows.

Kilometers away, the broken cries of Meirong Choi for her beautiful Liling are absorbed by the modest walls of a peasant’s cottage. Her tears are caught in the rough weave of the hemp cloth she clutches in her hands.

Meirong’s last embrace of her beloved daughter occurred in the shadow of the mighty passenger ship, Nan Yang, which stood ready to carry her child across the vast ocean and into the arms of her beloved.  Meirong’s parting gift, a sprig of delicate white Osmanthus flowers used in reunion wine, symbolized the day she would join the happy couple on the distant shore

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Yun Ru had viewed the parting handshake between father and son, Chen, from her car, before Chen turned and boarded the gangplank as the representative for his family’s business on the other side of the world.

Tonight, Meirong’s dream of a happy life for herself and her daughter was dashed against the same rocky outcropping on which the lifeboat bearing Liling’s remains had finally been found. The Nan Yang had struck a coral reef in the South China Sea, and by the time the ship’s hull was discovered, only the dead manned the lifeboats that remained.

Both mothers had been visited by policemen with lowered eyes, who spoke softly as they delivered the terrible news.

Chen, the handsome heir to the Ushi fortune had been one of the first to be identified by pure virtue of his possessions. Meirong’s daughter, Liling, was discovered in the last boat to be pulled from the sea. By then, its cruel elements had reduced her body to bones.

Yun Ru welcomed her son home with the understanding that ancient traditions of death would be observed. Her first order of business was to secure ownership of the lifeboat that had cradled her son as he passed from this world, for strong was her belief that his soul was still tied to the craft. Her husband arranged for a fine woodworker to dismantle, refurbish and re-fashion the wood into a beautiful coffin for her son to rest in.

By then, the condition of Chen’s body demanded the boy be buried immediately, but Yun Ru knew her son's burial was not complete.  “Our son has no one to keep him company in the afterlife,” she told her husband. “We must provide him with a way to continue the lineage…to provide him with progeny…you must find him a bride.”

Qui felt the truth in her words. Tradition demanded a ghost bride be found for their son.  “Tomorrow I will locate a broker to find him a suitable wife and arrange a marriage,” Qui replied, blowing the steam from his tea.  “All will be done properly.  I will take the red envelope. You will see.” Yun Ru smiled in satisfaction.  Wedding plans began to dance in her head.

   

Across the province, Meirong is praying fervently at the family altar when a knock on the door interrupts her entreaty to the Gods. Outside stands a Taoist priest in a purple and gold robe with the rich embroidery of the Cantonese people of Singapore. His thin beard is clipped with silk in three places. He bows in greeting.

“Mother Choi, I have traveled far to offer my deep sympathy in light of your recent loss.” The priest’s appearance is so unexpected, Meirong is surprised into speechlessness.
                                                                                                                                                                 “I believe I may be of some service to you in your current situation.”

“What do you know of my situation?” she asks.

“It is no secret you have suffered a great loss,” the priest answers.
                                                                                                                                                              “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“I’ve traveled all the way from Singapore…may I enter?”

“Yes, of course…Will you have tea at my table?”

“I would be delighted, Mother Choi.” Over savory tea, the priest continues…

“I have been authorized to act as matchmaker for the family of Ushi who seek a ghost wife for their son. I have determined your daughter to have a favorable horoscope and I have divined that the children’s fates are already entwined because of the circumstances of their deaths. I believe the heavens would smile on such a union. A ghost marriage between Chen Ushi and Liling could be advantageous to you, also.”

 

“Advantageous how, sir?”

“With your daughter’s passing, you have lost the opportunity to be cared for by her future husband in your declining years. I am prepared to offer you a sum large enough to provide for that, in return for your deceased daughter’s hand in marriage.” As he speaks, his eyes linger on the paper tablet representing Liling in death, on the floor near the door as tradition requires for an unmarried woman. 

“The joining of these children will guarantee Liling an affiliation with a male descent line, allowing her tablet to be retrieved and placed on her husband’s family altar. It will guarantee her care in the afterlife.”

Hearing this, Meirong’s heavy heart beats faster. It is miraculous. Her prayers are answered! The tea is forgotten as the two broker the deal. When the priest bids her goodbye he leaves behind, on the scarred wooden table, a fat red envelope

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Yun Ru has thrown herself into wedding plans. Soon, Meirong receives the gilded invitation to attend. Arrangements are made for the bones of Liling to be exhumed and transported.

***

The day of the wedding dawns brightly for two joyful mothers. At the family cemetery on the Ushi Estate, a priest performs sacred rites over Chen’s gravesite, and places Liling’s remains directly on top of Chen’s inside the coffin.

As they are pronounced man and wife, a cloud crosses the sun, briefly stealing the family’s attention. Moments later, only Meirong notices that the wind picks up, sending leaves skittering across her shoes. She shudders, dismissing the notion that in the wind, she hears her child voice whisper the words,

“Whoooo…Arrrrr…Yoooou?”

Meirong’s place of honor at the wedding feast faces the ghost couple who is represented by effigies made of paper with bamboo spines. Liling’s paper tablet has been removed from the floor of her mother’s cottage and placed inside her effigy to animate it. Later, it will be placed upon her husband's altar. Meirong studies the effigy with the enlarged photo of Liling's face glued to the paper mache head. "You are a beautiful bride,"she tells her.

                                                                                                                     

The wedding couple is surrounded by paper servants and other paper effigies of products for use in their home, a dressing table, a money safe, trunks of paper clothes…

“Liling, please try a sampling of the Peking Duck,” Yun Ru, says, addressing the bride as if she were alive.

“Oh yes, Liling…and the sea cucumber is just as you like it!”Meirong chimes in.

“Chen has always loved duck more than chicken, so the cook has prepared both for the wedding feast, to bring balance to the marriage,” Yun Ru tells her guest. “Your daughter is stunning in her wedding gown,” she adds, beaming.

 “Yes,” Meirong agrees. “She does look beautiful.”

The crowd cheers as the couple is carried to the dance floor where they are served wedding cake and toasted with reunion wine. Contained within Meirong’s first sip of the wine’s flowery essence is Liling’s terrified cry that she alone hears,

 

“Heeeeee…Issss….Nottttttt…Miiiiiiiiine!

Taaaaakkke…Meeeee….Hoooome!”

Qui steps forward holding a burning torch. “Let full blessings follow my son and daughter-in-law throughout their marriage!” he cries.

 “And may children follow!” his wife calls out, as the paper offerings catch fire to be sent to the spirit world for the couple’s use.  

Hidden by the firelight, Meirong flees the celebration. An unseasonal mist, like a veil, blows in from the south.

Yun Ru and Meirong sleep soundly for the first time since receiving the terrible news which plunged them into despair. Meirong returns to her garden, planting fresh vegetables and herbs with her sturdy trowel. “I have come to terms with my loss,” she tells neighbors, but her uneasy heart recalls Liling’s voice in the wind.

 

Meanwhile, Vun Ru has set her sights on descendants, for she now has a license of lineage under which she can adopt grandchildren.

***

It is the Monday after the wedding, and Yun Ru steps from her bath. She is preparing to meet her cousin, who has offered to sell her a son for Chen. As she bends, patting herself dry, an apparition appears in the moisture covered mirror above her head. Beneath its steamy surface, a pale countenance floats, whose lips seem to form the words... 

 

 “Where ammm I?”

The face melts away so quickly Yun Ru is unaware, but a chill causes her to draw her towel closer around her.

Meirong awakens that evening to faint cries in the night. Outside her window, the sounds ride the wind gently, refusing to be identified. Meirong wonders if an animal lies wounded. 

The light scent of Osmanthus drifts in through the window and settles in her hair.  She sleeps lightly, the scent tugging at the edges of her consciousness. She feels compelled to discover the source of the cries, but she is alone and suddenly afraid of the dark.
 

Later there comes a scrabbling at her back door. The sound is like a frightened animal fighting to get inside. Fearing an intruder she dons her robe and tiptoes to a window but sees nothing there. Reluctant to fall back asleep, she passes the night in an old rocking chair, her broomstick clutched in her hands.

Yun Ru breezes in and out on various errands. She has much to do in preparation for a child which makes her husband happy.

Tonight, Meirong’s sleep is rich with images. Liling stands before her in a lifeboat, dressed in her wedding gown. Her youth and beauty are striking. Suddenly, the gown wilts as if drenched with water. Wet seaweed drips from her hair. Liling holds out the boat’s dock line but her mother cannot reach it because Liling is floating away.

Meirong awakens to a pillow saturated in sweat. She makes tea, but puzzles at the aroma. She can’t recall mixing Osmanthus blossoms into the tea canister

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A man-servant hoeing the Ushi Family cemetery begins to unearth small shells amongst the weeds. Had he lingered, he might have noticed a watermark creeping up newlywed’s headstone like a rising tide. Instead, walking away, his right shoe grinds a tiny sea horse into the earth. He brings the shells home to his wife who wonders aloud how they got there.

                                                                                                                                                                    Yun Ru is excited to inspect the child proposed for her new grandson. She is oblivious to the fact that Qui walks the estate at dusk with a general feeling of unease. He has overheard the servants whispering about the grey mist that overtakes the graveyard at sundown, but tonight, the air above him seems to crackle with energy as if a storm brews.

 

The breeze is sharp with brine and seems to moan as if unable to find refuge on the land. His gardener reports that the orchard has begun to wither, and in testing the soil, he has found sea salt.

Meirong is now afraid to sleep at night for fear she’ll be trapped in a dream that will take her captive. Her nightmares are of tsunamis and ships at sea spinning like tops on directionless courses that end in disaster. Sometimes she collapses into a fitful sleep, only to awaken to the wail of a piteous entreaty, which grows louder and more distinct.

She no longer imagines wounded animals as the source. She knows in her heart who calls to her. She can now make out the words, 

“WhoooIssssThiiissssMaaaaannn?

....Mothhhher, …..

TaaakeMeeeeHooome,” 

as they rise and fall on arid currents, weaving their way in and out of the lament like a tapestry of despair woven on the loom of a broken heart.

Her health has begun to waver, a fact that cannot be connected to any known physical condition, but must be rooted in the feeling that her sense of comfort has washed away like an ocean wave. The fat red envelope sits on the kitchen table like a solicitation from the devil.                                                                                         

Yun Ru is finalizing her plans for moving her grandchild into her home. She has not consulted her husband, and he has ignored her plans. She often finds him staring out the south window as if seeking something on the horizon

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Meirong considers contacting Yun Ru with an offer to return the red envelope in exchange for her daughter’s bones.  Finally, she contacts Qui over the new telephone line.

“You are a crazy old woman,” Qui tells her. “I will not even address my wife with such a request. It would put her in her grave.” Yet as he replaces the receiver, he wonders…

Outside, the watermark has risen, and the smell of the sea pervades the estate. Servants now attempt to avoid Qui, who once thought he overheard the words “Bad Marriage” issue from behind a tool shed, but rounding the corner he found no one there.

 

***

Meirong sips tea at the kitchen table. The scent of Osmanthus is cloying and can no longer be denied. She is dressed and ready.

She picks up her gardening basket, adds to it a loaf of bread, a water gourd and the red envelope and steps out into the night. She will not waste a single fen on transportation, so begins her lonely journey on foot across the province.

After a third moon has risen, Meirong slips through the fence of the Ushi Estate. The sound of wind and sea have risen to greet her, and inside the house, servants have fastened the storm shutters against the fury. She rests briefly on an ancestral tomb before rallying herself for the task ahead.

Removing her garden trowel from the basket she begins to dig. It’s as if the sea itself gives permission for her reclamation, for every shovel unearths marine offerings far from any sandy shore... starfish…spikey sea urchins…polished sea glass… as she digs, she feels Liling’s essence growing ever stronger.

At last, just when her muscles begin to resist, she strikes wood. Her hand plays lovingly over the polished surface. “I’m here, my daughter,” she whispers, then levers the coffin open with her trowel. The wind pauses just long enough to allow her to study its depths by the light of the moon.

Delicately, she removes only the bones arranged on top, placing each one tenderly into her basket until Liling is fully back in her arms again. She places the fat red envelope above Chen’s heart with a simple prayer.

At long last, the poor woman with her basket of bones, turns southward and begins the long journey to bring her daughter back home.

-taree Belardes

NYC Short Story Contest 2015

Genre; Ghost Story

Location; A life boat

Character; A bride

Word limit; 2500

Time limit; 7 days
(First place, grp ? round 1 SSC)