‘In his forty-fifth year Yo-Kong Shen went home as he had long promised. There he betook himself to a great mountain, far above the nearest village. Later, he told a disciple that it was too difficult to live at such a height, but that the pale blue view of the world below him helped achieve a knowing state of mind. Although he had intended to live alone, a young monk, Qumihao, climbed the mountain to study with the master.
‘That winter was hard. One cold day the two monks were meditating in their hut when a great snowfall came and sealed them in entirely. The people of the village were worried for them and came up the mountain as soon as it was safe to do so. But five days passed before the villagers managed to reach the hut. When they dug through the snow they were amazed to find the monks beneath, completely unharmed, and while the student took food eagerly from the villagers, the master was free from hunger.
‘One clear night, when it seemed that to gaze upon the stars was to understand the truth of this existence, Yo-Kong Shen and his disciple were surprised to see orange lights, as several fire brands wended their way up the narrow mountain path. They went to learn more and found that the villagers had carried food all the way up the mountain to a certain cave.
‘Yo-Kong Shen inquired as to the purpose of this food and the villagers explained that many lifetimes ago a hungry ghost had lived in the cave. They wished to appease it with the offering that they brought every year, lest it return and once more devour the children and babies of their community. The villagers put down the rice, cakes and fruit, and left, trusting that because of their discipline the monks would not touch the food.
‘Despite all of his training alongside the master, Qumihao could not rid himself of craving. Looking at the shivering pallid skin that barely stretched over his ribs, Qumihao decided to eat the offering, lest the food be wasted. Later that night, when Yo-Kong Shen was meditating, the young monk left his master and returned to the cave, where he began to eat. Once his thin body had tasted the food, he could not help but devour everything in front of him until his belly stuck out, as full as it could be. Immediately thereupon, he fell asleep.
‘The master finished his meditation, to find Qumihao staring at him from the doorway of their hut. The disciple’s eyes were fires.
‘− You are not Qumihao.
‘− Let me in.
‘− Tonight I meditated on ghosts and the ways of banishing them.
‘− Let me in.
‘− If I let you in, what will you do?
‘− I will eat. I must eat.
‘− Swear that you will eat what you find in this dwelling.
‘− I swear. Let me in.
‘− Very well, you may enter.
‘The hungry ghost jumped towards the master’s throat, but he was not there, for Yo-Kong Shen had used his mastery of energy and was instantly at a great distance. The hungry ghost was alone in the hut.
‘The next day Yo-Kong Shen descended the mountain and when he passed the village, he told them that they need fear the ghost no more. The villagers asked after the young disciple and the master reported that he had departed his body, saying that Qumihao had been eaten by a wild creature. It is true that when the villagers saw the body of Qumihao the flesh of the hands and arms had been eaten. But when they saw the blood around his mouth, they set fire to the hut and never returned to that part of the mountain.’
***
‘Gross, he ate his own arms?’ I said ‘That’s disgusting.’
‘Clever though. The master guy got the hungry ghost to eat itself. Maybe there’s a clue for us.’ While listening to the story, Zed had been too involved to write, but now he jotted down a point.
‘I agree, the history contains many lessons and that is one of them.’ Geoffrey nodded.
‘Maybe, but look what happened to that Qumihao dude, like, he died.’ I must have sounded aggrieved, because a solemn silence followed.
Tara looked up at Geoffrey, who had already opened the book at the next marked page. ‘Is that the other account?’
‘It is.’
‘We should hear that, then discuss what to do.’
This got a nod of approval from Zed. ‘Good idea.’
***
‘In his seventy-second year a message came to Yo-Kong Shen beseeching him to assist a certain village by the sea. The master set forth with only his robe, his sandals and a stave to lean on. After six days, he came to the village, where he sat among the people and listened.
‘The village was burdened by an oppressive tax collector. Every month he would come and take all they had. When they had no more money in the entire village, he even took their pots, pans and fishhooks. No matter how they pleaded with the tax collector, nor showed him their tears, he would not swerve from his harsh demands. As a result, many had left and those who remained were starving.
‘Yo-Kong Shen stayed in the village and taught the true path while he waited.
‘One night there were screams. A troop of soldiers had arrived and with them was the hated tax collector. He had become so fat that eight men were needed to carry his chair. The soldiers set him down in the middle of the village and shouted for their taxes. The only person who came to meet them was the master; the others did as he had told them and stayed in their huts, looking out.
‘– Who are you? − asked the tax collector.
‘– Yo-Kong Shen.
‘– Yo-Kong Shen, the monk?
‘The master bowed, and then looked at the tax collector and at his burning eyes.
‘– You are a hungry ghost. I have met your kind before.
‘– I am what I am. Are you here to pay taxes for these villagers? Where is the money?
‘– I will pay their taxes, but first please listen. Money will not satisfy you. Jewels and gold will not satisfy you. I am sure that you understand that. Remember too that all conditions change, as will yours. Think upon this truth while you have the opportunity as it is the only way to end your deep longing.
‘– I have no time for this. Where is the money?
‘– You know that I have followers from the islands of the dawn, to the mountains of the sunset? You know that the Emperor’s mother has, every year, sent me chests full of gold to pray for her son?
‘The eyes of the tax collector grew moist and bright.
‘– Will you forgo the taxes of the village now and forevermore in return for everything that I possess?
‘– I will. − The tax collector replied, looking eagerly around for where the master kept his gold.
‘Yo-Kong Shen handed the tax collector his robe, his sandals and his stave. The tax collector looked at the master, at first seeing nothing but a naked old man. Then the truth became clear to him and he understood that Yo-Kong Shen had tricked him. For the master never kept any gift from his followers, but gave it to those who needed it. Nor did he keep one gold coin from the Emperor’s mother, though he did pray for the son.
‘The tax collector turned purple with fury, his eyes bulged and he began to choke. He would have cursed Yo-Kong Shen if he could have, but his rage filled him to bursting. With a gargled cry he fell from his chair and crashed to the ground, dead.
‘The soldiers carried the body away and it was a long time before the villagers ever saw another tax collector.’
***
‘Jays’, I wish Yo-Kong Shen was around today; he’d know what I should do.’ I sighed.
‘That tax collector was a bit stupid, though. I could see what was coming.’ On the page of his rough book for the traits of hungry ghosts, Zed wrote ‘stupid’.
Geoffrey came and sat at the table again. ‘Perhaps not stupid, it might be more accurate to write that their appetites blind them to what the rest of us can see.’
‘Right you are.’ With a quick scribble Zed rewrote the line.
‘Also,’ Tara came in quickly, ‘put down that they both died after getting what they asked for.’
‘Well, you say they died,’ I pointed out, ‘but strictly speaking, the person they inhabited died.’ I gave the kind of self-aware cough that you do when you want to draw attention to yourself and furthered the effect by raising my eyebrows. Just to make sure they appreciated that the person who died in the stories was equivalent to me, I pointed several times at my chest.
Zed was frowning, I thought in sympathy with me, but he was looking at his notes. ‘That’s it. See. When the hungry ghost is here, it doesn’t just look like Liam, it is him! It takes over his body. See, Liam doesn’t remember those times, because he’s gone somewhere else, unconscious or asleep maybe.’
Skin really can crawl. It sort of stretches around the back of your head and along your forearms, all the tiny hairs there stand up. No sooner had Zed spoken than I felt it to be true; there had been times when the hungry ghost had somehow taken control of me. Even then, I suddenly realised, I had some memories of being the ghost. Later, when I’d been to hell and back, so to speak, I had those memories as clear as if they had been mine all along.
‘That’s right,’ I stuttered. ‘Actually it’s coming back to me a bit now. I wasn’t myself; I was hungry. The Valentine’s card … Yeah, I can just about remember. I did go to school early. I was full of excitement.’ My voice dropped. ‘Full of wickedness, I mean.’
‘What about last night, when you came here at four am?’ asked Geoffrey.
‘Could you have left your house without anyone noticing?’ Tara turned to me.
‘I could, no problem. And now you say it, I do feel I was out on the streets last night. There was a fight … or something.’ It was all so elusive, but it was there. I’d seen and done things I wasn’t fully conscious of.
‘There we go then!’ Zed was triumphant, but not me. It was all very well figuring out that the ghost was getting here by entering my body, but that was bad news as far as I was concerned. Think for a minute how you’d feel if some evil person could use your body and make you do things to others that were horrible. I felt angry, frightened and helpless, all at the same time.
‘This is deadly. We’re making progress.’
‘Are we, Zed? A couple of stories, both of which end badly for the person taken over by the hungry ghost, and you think we’re making progress? Don’t you get it? I could become the ghost right now. I could attack you. I could do all sorts of terrible things!’ I stood up.
‘Chill out, dude. We have to figure out its modus operandi, and then we can smack it back down to hell and make it sorry it ever came into this world.’ Zed was being exaggeratedly cheerful, to try and head off my panic attack. To some extent it worked. His exuberance was reassuring, and I sat back down again.
‘I think Liam is right to be concerned. The hungry ghost is a very powerful creature, and it would have destroyed me if it could have. We are not simply going to be able to fight it, not physically.’ Admitting the problem was serious was good too; Geoffrey’s measured tones inspired more confidence than Zed’s attempt to portray the situation as if it needed some sort of martial arts star ready to kick ghost ass. ‘If the stories tell us anything relevant, they suggest that it is not strength that defeats the hungry ghost, but guile.’
‘Like I said,’ Tara raised her voice to make sure we paid attention, ‘stopping the ghost has got something to do with giving them what they want.’
‘And like I said. If we follow those stories, I end up dead. Look, think for a minute, what are you going to do next time you meet it? I’ll be gone, unconscious or something, so it’s up to you. I need your help. What are you going to do?’
They all looked at me sympathetically, responding to the note of distress in my voice. But they didn’t have any answers.