The Dark Becomes Her

I watch, curious, as he unlocks the box with a silver key that’s hanging from a chain around his neck.

“Ta-da!” Shen says when he lifts the lid, as if performing a magic trick. His grin tells me this performance is for my benefit, to lighten the mood. I chuckle, appreciating his effort. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize that maybe this is who he is really. Someone who is a bit silly, but forced to be serious when oblivious girls like me crash into his life.

Inside that box is a stack of yellow papers the size of a bookmark. I don’t know what I was expecting, but not something this small. He handles them reverently, carefully unwinding the red string that binds it all together. I lean forward when he places them between us, examining the symbols more closely. There are Chinese characters stacked on top of one another, almost giving an illusion of a human figure, but done in red ink. I’ve seen enough horror movies from Taiwan and Hong Kong with Baba to know what these are. Another type of talisman.

“These are warding talismans,” Shen confirms. “Put one above your window, one on the back of your door, and one behind your headboard. It’ll prevent those creatures from entering your room or affecting your dreams.”

I carefully put them inside my wallet pocket so that I don’t accidentally rip or bend them. Even though these are just slight pieces of paper, I hope what he says is true. I need all the help I can get.

“Is there a way I can protect my little brother too?” I ask, worried about Denny.

“These are all I have, but I’ll talk to the Head Elder,” he says. “It’s unfortunate that all of this started while she’s away. The temple doesn’t take transgressions like this lightly.”

“Use of animal familiars: forbidden. Making bargains with the deceased: forbidden. Attempting dream coercion: definitely forbidden.” He ticks them off on his hand one by one. “The guardians will want to hear about this too.”

“The guardians…” I remember he mentioned them earlier. “Are they like the wardens?”

“The wardens work for King Yanluo. He’s in charge of the underworld,” Shen says. “The guardians work for the gods.”

“King Yanluo…” I repeat slowly. “You mean 閻羅王.” The Lord of the Afterlife.

He doesn’t seem bothered though. “There are no benefits. Terrible hours. Tons of ghosts. No promises of enlightenment.” He ponders this. “Yeah, you’re right. This club isn’t worth it.”

“At least you have bubble tea.” I pick up my forgotten drink and salute him with it.

“That we do.” He checks his watch. “That reminds me, I have to get back upstairs. I have people waiting for me.” He locks the jar of beads into the box and puts it in his bag.

“They’re waiting to kick your ass at Ping-Pong?” Delia returns then, eyes slightly red-rimmed, but she seems better now. Artist. Ping-Pong player. More things I’m learning about him.

“You know it,” he sighs. Shen stands and meets my eyes. “Tomorrow, okay? I’ll let you know.” I nod. I’m left there with Delia, who looks a little sheepish.

I shrug. “I ended up bawling my eyes out in front of Shen, so you’re not the only one who fell apart today.”

“I remember what it felt like,” she says. “Finding out about…all of this. This world existing alongside ours.” Unknown, unseen, unheard.

“Yup.” She nods, reaching over to grab two brochures from a rack behind the booth. She holds them both up in front of me. Red and orange. “This is your life before, this is your life after.” She starts folding them deftly, fingers flying, making creases until she joins the two together. A tiger appears in her hand.

“How did you do that?” I marvel as she places the animal in my palm. The red and the orange in a pattern.

“You learn to look at things a little differently,” she says. “You’ll adjust in time. C’mon, I want to show you something.”

She tries to lead me to the hallway that goes out to the alley again, but I stop, not sure if I can continue. I’ve avoided that hallway ever since. It’s still dim, and now there’s a faintly menacing air. My heart rate speeds, a little faster. Delia stops and looks at me, giving me a reassuring pat on the arm.

“There’s nothing out there anymore,” she says. “That’s what I want to show you. You’ll see.”

“You can see…them, then?” I still can’t bring myself to call them what they are. Spirits. Ghosts. Whatever.

“The ones left behind?” Delia says, as if it should be a joke, but she’s entirely serious. “No, I’ve never seen them, but I know they’re out there.” She pushes the door open and steps out into the alley, holding it open for me to walk through.

The alley is like it’s always been, but now there’s a stretch of the brick wall that has been painted white, and a black-and-white dragon writhes from one side to the other. Each scale is meticulously put in, the texture of the small horns upon its head, long whiskers trailing from its fanged mouth. The only color is in the blue orb that it holds between its claws, protectively.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Delia says. “It took him a week to finish painting it.”

I notice the square Chinese signature in the corner, like a stamp. The same mark on the artwork that I helped Shen move.

“Shen painted this?” I want to touch it, but I’m afraid of ruining it. I hope that it will remain here for a long time, even with all the reports of vandalism and graffiti in Chinatown. I hope people will recognize its beauty and not touch it.

“I think he felt responsible that something bad happened while the elders were away. Even though he’s not the one in charge, it’s still his family’s temple, you know? The legacy his parents left behind for them.”

“Oh,” I say softly. I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible too for being involved.

“There’s so much here in Chinatown. Lots of history,” Delia murmurs beside me, a wistfulness to her words. “So many memories, families passing through, but so much of it is forgotten and lost….” She sounds like Baba, reminiscing about how things used to be. Shen told me Delia has her own story to tell. Maybe one day she’ll be comfortable enough to share it with me.

“Anyway, I wanted to show you this,” Delia says. “To show you that there are people watching over us, protecting us. You don’t have to feel alone. They saved me once, and I want to help in whatever way I can.”

I nod. Delia wiggles her fingers in a wave and turns to walk back to the mall. I walk in the other direction, toward the main road. I glance back at the mural for a moment. Maybe it’s only a trick of the light, but I could swear the dragon blinked. Did the orb spin too?

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I jump. When I look back, the dragon stays still, just a lovely painting on the wall. Nothing more. And yet, it’s as Delia says. Everything under a different light. Protectors watching over us.

Later that evening before bed, I pull out the talismans from my wallet. It felt different holding them in the café compared to seeing them in my bedroom, where everything looks normal.

I tape one talisman under a long poster of a scene from a Japanese garden above the window. The next one I put in the middle of the door, behind my red-and-gold wall calendar. It’s the one we get for free from the bank, featuring zodiac animals and ads for different Asian businesses around the city. The last one I have to climb up on my bed to slap behind my headboard.

Shen: Bad dreams?

Me: nope. the cult paraphernalia was effective

Shen: Ha the talismans are working then, good

Shen: I spoke with The Boss. She’ll meet you. Tuesday night

Delia: Inside jokes already? Cute!

Delia’s message is followed by a cat with heart eyes. I grin, give Shen’s message a thumbs-up, and put a side-eye cat into the chat before setting my phone down.

Denny has swimming lessons Saturday mornings, so he’s already gone with Ma by the time I saunter downstairs to the kitchen table. Tina’s door is closed. She’s probably sleeping late, like she usually does. There’s only Baba sitting there with a cup of coffee, glasses perched low on his nose, typing on his laptop. He raises his cup to me.

“She decided to go to the pool too. Meet some friends there,” Baba says as he looks over his glasses at me. “Are you sleeping well? You look tired.”

My good mood falters a little bit. I should be able to tell them everything. But I can’t.

“Ah.” He nods. “Grade eleven is a very important year, like your mother says. Have to keep those grades high.”

Homework is always the Get Out of Jail Free card. It’s the magic phrase to ease their worries, to let them believe they are helping to keep me on the right track. Good grades, good university. Nothing else matters. They remain unaware that their oldest daughter is seeing ghosts, and that their younger daughter is changing and turning into something different before their eyes.

“Focus on what’s important, right? No distractions,” he says. “愛拼才會贏!” He pumps his fist in the air in encouragement. Some sort of Taiwanese phrase about working hard and winning at life. My grandfather used to say it too. I think it came from some popular song back in their day.

“Ma left some congee on the stove for you if you want,” he says. “I have to head into the office, so you’ll be on your own this morning.”

I eat my plain congee sprinkled with pork floss, chunks of spicy pickled radish, salty preserved cucumber, and crunchy peanuts. While I’m shoveling food into my mouth, my phone buzzes some more.

Shen: There’s one more thing. we have the beads, but anything you can find related to the temple could help the elders figure out what it is we’re dealing with

Me: got it

What better time to do that than with an empty house? I finish my breakfast and listen for the back door to open and close, the sign that Baba has exited the house. I go upstairs, tiptoeing, despite knowing that I’m alone. I grab Tina’s door handle and turn, stepping in to see what awaits me there.