‘Tell me a story.’ I want to listen to Marlowe’s voice and feel her close to me.
Her body becomes very stiff and still. Her long arms and legs do not move, not even a little bit. Her face is like an empty piece of paper with no writing on it.
‘Maybe Wài Pó can tell you a story?’ She sits on my bed. I think that Marlowe might be a little bit scared of telling stories. This could be because she reads the words with her eyes and her quick brain but does not want to feel them inside of her heart.
‘The story about the flower spirits?’ Wài Pó asks.
I love that one, I really do. My Wài Pó has been good at telling it ever since I was a young and sweet girl.
‘Once there was a scholar who lived alone in a small house. He loved flowers very much and spent all his days in the garden…’ Wài Pó touches the jade ring on her finger as she talks. I think that she gets her magic storytelling powers from this special green ring.
‘One day, four beautiful ladies arrived on his doorstep. Their names were Salix, Prunophora, Persica and Punica. They came asking for help. “In your garden, please put up a scarlet flag with the sun, moon and all the planets painted on it so that when the evil east wind blows, we will be protected.” The scholar obliged and that night, when there was a storm, he noticed that the flowers in his garden remained unaffected by the wind. He realised that Salix was the willow, Prunophora the plum, Punica the pomegranate and Persica the peach.’
My eyes are closed now so that I can see the words from the story come alive like the flower spirits in the scholar’s garden.
‘The next evening, the ladies arrived on his doorstep again, this time with a large bunch of flowers. They offered them to the scholar with gratitude and told him that if he were to eat the flowers he would become immortal. The scholar did as he was told. In time, he realised his new power and his eternal existence.’
I watch the scholar in my mind. He is immortal. I am sure this means his body can live forever.