Tuesday, April 29, 2008

My Dream Foretelling the Death of Sun Wukong (A Coming of Age Tale)




When it began, we were swinging over the ocean. Cameryn and I hung on fine line, strung from a great piece of driftwood that arced hundreds of feet above the water. With each long stomach-dropping plunge, we gathered speed. Our final arc carried us up and over the driftwood, stretching the line to its limit, and, with a pinging hum and a pinprick of pain, the line broke, sending us soaring inland, away from the ocean. We flew high above the ground, our speed slowing gradually, until we landed easily on our feet at the outskirts of a nameless town, on a road that disappeared into a wood. Night was drawing shadows together among the trees. The sun had dropped below the horizon, and wind was blowing grey clouds across a dark blue sky.

We found ourselves among teenage girls. Beautiful, ugly, tall, short, fat, thin, dark and blonde, they walked silently along the darkening road with us. A gust of wind blew my hair into my eyes as I heard a chattering sound overhead. The girls fled to the edge of the treeline, some of them pointing toward the sky, others crouching. A black cloud was swirling high above us, gathering itself into a point which reached down toward the ground. As it came closer, I saw that it wasn’t a cloud at all; it was monkeys, hundreds of them. The girls cried out, and I heard one of them say, “They’re coming for us. They take the girls.”

The girls? I thought. What about the adults? The first monkeys landed and I saw that, somehow, they had been flying without wings. They wore tiny black bodysuits that had white skeleton bones printed on front and back. Their hairy little heads jerked back and forth, searching. Their black button eyes widened when they saw the girls. Soon there were hundreds of them covering the asphalt surface of the road. I saw a flash of color in the midst of the black throng and I was transfixed by the sight of a small monkey with a painted face and colorful clothing, howling and dancing in the very center of the crowd. This monkey could only be their king. I turned at the sound of screams and saw that two girls had been surrounded by monkeys. They were being dragged into the center of the screeching crowd. The girls cried and batted at the monkeys’ tiny hands, but the monkeys pinched and bit at the girls, until the girls were finally overcome by the sheer number of monkeys pulling at them, and they fell to the ground where I could no longer hear them above the shrieks of the monkeys.

I snatched Cameryn to me and pulled the nearby girls further into the trees, but the underbrush was high and the trees were low and close, and we couldn’t get very far off the road. Cameryn suddenly broke away and deliberately waded into the monkeys, slapping their little butts and elbowing their faces. I cried out in fear for her and tried to reach her, but the monkeys nearest me closed ranks, hissing and scratching, and I could not get close enough to grab her. The monkeys shrieked loudly at Cameryn, but they didn’t try to bite her. She turned back toward me and I could see tears of laughter streaming down her face. She mouthed, “They’re monkeys, Mom!” She held her stomach and rolled with laughter at this, then turned back and made a little swan leap into the monkeys, smacking and elbowing them as she went, and they carried her, without harm, toward the Monkey King.

When she reached the Monkey King, Cameryn pulled herself to her feet and the throng drew back. The Monkey King leaped into Cameryn’s arms and she held him there, his face inches from hers. They stared at one another in the sudden silence that fell around them. Cameryn was no longer laughing, but a tear slipped down her face.

The Monkey King gave a great shriek and lifted his paws over his head to strike Cameryn, and she dropped him, at the last minute catching his paws and his head together between her hands. His hind legs kicked, trying to grasp Cameryn’s clothing, but she held him out away from her body by his head, his paws still trapped beneath her hands on either side of his face.

Cameryn looked at me and took a big breath, then turned back to the Monkey King and slipped her thumbs over his eyes and, squeezing, popped each one out of its socket. The Monkey King shrieked and kicked harder, and the crowd of monkeys around us jumped into the air and flew away screaming. Cameryn pressed her thumbs even deeper into the empty eye sockets, grimacing with effort and disgust, and the Monkey King shuddered in her hands and died.