Week 9 Story - The Bamboo Bridge

There is a ton of junk in my house because of my grandmother. She insisted on bringing it with her when she moved in with me and my mom. She's getting old, she forgets things and people too, sometimes; my mom says she can't live on her own anymore. She has boxes and trunks full of old swords, books, brushes, and silks--things that have been passed down through the generations. Grandma's always saying that we're descended from powerful emperors, but ever since she's been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, who can tell if she knows what she's saying.

My mother sent me to pick up the last of her boxes, and to take Grandma to our house for good. So after school, I stopped by Grandmother's. She's too busy watching her soaps to pay attention to me, so I just sighed and headed to the garage to load the last of her boxes into my truck. 

She has a group of ancient looking bamboo sticks stacked in one corner--god only knows why. There are far heavier things to get onto the truck, so I gathered the bamboo, all the while shaking my head at my grandmother's pack-rat ways. I tossed the old stalks onto the grass in the yard. Before my eyes, the bamboo landed in the grass, anchored itself and stood at attention. They began to stretch and weave, growing taller and taller and casting a long vertical shadow against my grandmother's house in the light of the setting sun. I realized it was a bridge, leading straight up into the sky and out of view.

I tried to take the stalks down--after all, kids already referred my grandmother as "that weird old Chinese lady." The last thing she needed was all her neighbors coming out and gawking at her magic bamboo. But the stalks held fast, and something in me told me to climb it, to see where it led. 

Against my better instincts, I mounted the bridge and began my ascent. I thought it would take an age to reach the end of the bridge, and I found myself briefly wondering if I'd miss dinner. That was before I saw the sun from above the earth. It was a burning torch, and all the world was cast in light and shadow, spread out before me like an artists's rendering. From up here, I couldn't believe that I lived so far below. Nor could I believe that I had climbed so high in a matter of minutes, that I was breathing though with some difficulty, and felt almost no exhaustion. By the time the earth was a little blue rock far below me, the sun had set and was behind the world, casting a shadow on the Moon--which I was now sure was where this bridge would lead. 

Sure enough, I hopped off of the bridge and onto the surface of the moon. But instead of the barren wasteland that I was sure would be here, I found a splendid palace, silvery trees, and glass cages where animal shadows moved and swam like all the beasts of the earth and fish of the sea did. A pleasant smell wafted through the air, and I could tell it was the cassia flowers--my grandmother always wore that perfume. She swore it was a family tradition. I was starting to believe her. 

I turned to survey the rest of the moon, and found myself face to face with a beautiful woman. She had long flowing hair, a kind, round face, and a glowing rainbow gown with a white shawl. 

"I am glad you are here," she said, and her voice was clear and light as a bell. "The cassia tree has nearly overshadowed the radiance of my palace. Once your ancestors came upon this place, and knew that the cassia tree must be chopped down once every thousand years to maintain the glory of the moon. That time is almost upon us. Have you come to take up the task?" she asked.

I found  myself nodding, just going along with whatever this beautiful woman said. Some of what she said sounded familiar, and I remember before Grandma was sick, she told me stories of our ancestor and his sorcerers who visited the moon and brought back a musical gift. How was I to know it was true?

The Lady of the Moon handed me an ax, and before long the tree was felled. Instantly, the moon was brightened, and I could see her castle even more clearly in the distance. She thanked me again and again, and asked what gift I would like to bring back to earth as payment for my help. Only one thing came to mind.

"Please heal my grandmother's mind. She told me about you once, and I didn't believe her because she's sick. She still has so much to tell me."
The woman smiled, and for a moment, she looked my Grandma, when she was young and beautiful. "It is done. Go home to your grandmother."

The descent to earth took almost as little time as the climb to the moon did. And when my feet touched the ground, I looked up at the radiance of the moon--noticeably brighter. I turned to my grandmother's house, and saw her running toward me with tears in her eyes and arms outstretched.

Author's Note: So this story is based on the story of "The Lady of the Moon", in which an emperor and his sorcerers build a bamboo bridge to the moon. I thought it would cool to do a story about a descendant, because unlike some of the other myths that we've read, Chinese myths feature real people almost as often as they feature gods and deities. I know this story is really long but I'm just glad that I was able to put in everything that I wanted and still technically not go over 1000 words. Some of the original stories had unsatisfying endings, and I thought that since I put something so sad as Alzheimer's in the story, I should have a happy ending. 

"The Moon Goddess Chang E"
by unidentified artist via Wikimedia