Colin Cotterill - Curse of the Pogo Stick

“You can’t,” he said.

“I’ll miss her.”

“She’ll be glad to hear that.”

“But, now she’s gone…”

There had been a swine genocide that morning. Every pig in the village had been sacrificed to the spirit of Auntie Zhong. That meant pork for lunch, and buffalo which was chewy but it was packed with a lot of vitamins and life-enhancing minerals. The funeral lunch was subdued, but more from the exhaustion of the preparations than out of sadness. There was nothing to be somber about. Assuming the gods hadn’t noticed the female pallbearers, all the steps had been laid for Zhong’s journey to the afterlife. She’d had a good send-off and everyone was happy, not to mention a little envious that she was on her way to a better place.

After the meal, Dia and Chia dressed in their prettiest clothes and set off in search of weak-minded Assistant Haeng. General Bao explained that there were many PL troops out looking for the abductees and if the women were to run into a patrol dressed in army fatigues and carrying weapons, they’d be shot on sight. But in their costumes, searching for roots and twigs, they had a slightly better chance. The two scouts knew the hills far better than the soldiers so they weren’t expecting to be caught by surprise. Siri and Bao watched them climb onto two sprightly ponies and waved them off.

“And you won’t be going with them?” Siri asked.

The little general hadn’t changed out of her man’s clothes from the funeral but the sight of her still filled his heart.

“No, Yeh Ming. I have a lot to tell you. Come.”

They began to walk toward the trail that led up the mountain. “We thought the jumping stick was on our side at last but it didn’t protect us from this new evil. There were fifteen families here in the village. Three different clans but we were one unit. All friends. All caring for each other like one family. We lost our men and then we lost our war. There wasn’t much hope for us to stay here. Women and children and old people aren’t going to survive in an exposed place like this. The Hmong scouts told us your army will soon be getting new helicopters and bombers from the Soviets. Once that happens, even the most secluded village will be overrun. Most of our friends have left already.”

“On the big march?”

“Yes, but the strongest of us stayed behind to help Long and Zhong. They refused to leave without their daughter.”

“She’s one of you seven?”

“No. You haven’t seen her. She doesn’t show herself to many.”

“The house beside the trail?”

Bao nodded. “My father used to tell me of some evil presence beyond the peak of this mountain. It allowed us access to the water but we were advised to keep away from the hut and the jungle behind it. That’s why we were upset when Chamee moved up here. She stays there alone. Her story is more tragic than any other. She was fourteen, quite beautiful, and untouched by any man. Long and his wife had ensured that much. They wanted her to have a special marriage, but, above all, they wanted her to wait till the war was over so she didn’t end up marrying a corpse. But we think it was because she was unspoiled that she was such a target. A beautiful virgin. What spirit could resist that?” “She was possessed?”

“Much worse than that, Yeh Ming. She’s betrothed.”

“To?”

“I cannot say.”

They were nearing the lonely house and all of Siri’s instincts began to twang just as they had on his first trip up to the spring. He stopped and took Bao’s hand.

“You know?” he said. “That old ‘we can’t speak its name’ routine doesn’t work at all. That was all made up by storytellers to scare little children. Let’s assume that I can take the pressure-spiritually. If it’s a curse I know I can pretty much handle it. You have to tell me everything.”

She looked into his eyes and knew he was sincere. She lowered her voice and a tremble ran through her words.

“It is Moo’er. He is the illegitimate nephew of Xor, the thunder demon. He keeps a harem on earth and seeds them all.”

“Long’s daughter’s expecting a demon?”

He obviously sounded cynical because Bao cut him in half with her evil eye.

“Shame on you, Yeh Ming, for doubting such a thing.”

“It’s not that I doubt, sweet general. It’s only that I’ve never heard of a devil having the… equipment to achieve such a feat.”

“Then see with your own eyes.”

She paced off ahead leaving Siri no choice but to scurry after. There was no doubt in his mind that some discontent haunted the area around the old house yet he would have expected demonic impregnation to register more violently on his senses. The closer they came to the house, the warmer his amulet felt against the skin of his chest, but even as they stood no more than five yards from the lattice fence everything seemed calm.

Bao called out, “Chamee, a great shaman has come to see you.”

There was no response.

“How do you know it’s actually Moo’er and not just some other randy demon?” Siri asked.

“He told us who he was when he first came.”

“How?”

“You’ll see.” She shouted again. “Yeh Ming has come all the way from the past to exorcise your demon, Chamee.”

They stood waiting for some reaction but heard only the civets laughing in the trees overhead and the distant sound of explosions. Siri was beginning to wonder whether even Chamee was a figment of Bao’s imagination

He walked to the fence and, by working it back and forth, began to loosen the central post that held it up.

“Yeh Ming, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bao said.

“Don’t worry, my general. So far, it’s no more than a fence.”

Chamee stood still in front of her door, a small fixed smile on her face. She seemed to be urging him on. Her hands caressed her huge belly like a fortune-teller with a glass globe. The fence, being symbolic, wasn’t hard to pull down. It fell in front of Siri and he stepped over it. He heard a low growl from inside the house, neither human nor animal.

“I’m just a doctor,” he said. “Nothing to worry about. I want to take a wee look at that baby of yours.”

He stepped into the tunnel of vines and roots that hung down from the old trees on either side of the path and as he did so he felt a kind of force. The area seemed to be alive. A strange tingle ran through his skeleton like ant bites, not painful but uncomfortable. He continued forward, swimming his arms through the vines, but he was disoriented. He stood still for a moment to clear his head but the pins and needles made his legs numb and turned into a dull ache.

He looked up at the round-bellied virgin in time to hear her speak. She was still eight yards away but her voice was loud.

“Keep coming, old man.”

He watched her lovely lips move but the sounds they uttered were deep-not possibly the voice of a teenaged Hmong girl.

“Keep coming,” she said again. The voice shocked Siri and put him on the defensive.

“You obviously don’t realize who I am,” he said with more bravado than real confidence. “I am Yeh Ming, the shaman.”

His body was shaking like a tin roof in a monsoon. His toes curled. He clenched his fists and took another step. He tried to calm her with his words.

“Come on, dear. I’ll just take a look at you and then I’ll leave you alone. You need a doctor. Look at the size of you.”

“Then come on,” she said, curling her finger toward him. “I’m waiting.” Her voice was even deeper now, a frightening double-bass-string twang.

He took another step but the vines seemed to strangle him, whip at his shoulders and chest. He refused to believe that he could be physically assaulted by the spirit world in broad daylight, awake, and sober. It was impossible, but… He took one more half step before the air around him became a blinding flash and he was zapped like a mosquito on a truck battery. All he recalled as he floated to the earth was the sight of the pregnant girl waving at him in slow motion and the black sky wrapping him up like a newborn in a tar blanket.