Tiger - Jeff Stone [41]
“Aaah … thank you very much,” Fu said. “I'll… eat it later.”
“Later?” Ma said. “Aren't you hungry? My mother made it just for you, you know. She feels sorry for you. She said no child should ever be locked in a cage.”
Fu lowered his eyes. “Please tell your mother I said thank you very much, but…”
“But what?” Ma asked, irritated.
Just then, the wind picked up and blew the Greasy Goose aroma in Fu's direction. His stomach turned.
“But… nothing,” Fu said, looking up. He had just thought of a plan. “Please tell your mother I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank her!”
Fu tossed the pot's heavy lid aside and grabbed the entire goose with both hands. He tore into it, eating as fast as his jaws would chew. In no time, his stomach began to grumble loudly. His plan, it seemed, was in motion.
“Gentlemen, it's time we go home to our families,” said the Governor to everyone assembled inside the bun vendor's shop. “We can continue this discussion tomorrow.”
“Agreed,” said most of the men.
As they filed into the village square, their noses began to recoil. A few men gagged. Something smelled very very unpleasant.
“Oh, my stomach!” Fu called out. “Owwww….”
The Governor shook his head. He removed a torch that burned outside the shop's front door and walked over to the cage. Several men followed. So did Ho.
“What on earth did you eat, young man?” the Governor asked Fu as he approached the cage, holding his nose.
“A gift from Ma's mother,” Fu replied. He rocked back and forth, his arms wrapped around himself. “I believe Ma called it Greasy Goose. I'm afraid my stomach isn't accustomed to such rich food.”
The Governor shook his head. “Tomorrow I might be able to persuade the village pharmacist to mix up a tea to settle your stomach. If you continue to behave. But I am afraid you are on your own tonight. There is nothing I can do for you.”
“Oh, but there is, sir,” Fu said, desperation in his voice. “You could let me empty my sour stomach somewhere.”
One of the men stepped forward. “Just take care of your business in the corner of your cage, animal.”
“Are you crazy?” another man said. “The whole village will stink until the cage is gone! And do you want to be the one to give Major Ying a cage full of foulness?”
“All right, all right,” said the Governor, waving the torch. “That's enough bickering. Young monk, do you swear by Buddha that you won't attack anyone tonight?”
“Yes, yes,” Fu replied impatiently. “I swear I won't attack anyone tonight. Please, hurry.”
The Governor handed the torch to one of the men and unlocked the cage's latch with a key he had hanging around his neck. He lifted one whole side of the cage, and Fu crawled out. Fu stretched, and his stomach grumbled loudly. Everyone backed away, including the Governor. The Governor took the torch back and tucked the key into the folds of his robe.
“I am glad to see you've mended your pants, young man,” the Governor said to Fu. “Now I wish you luck in keeping them unsoiled.”
The Governor turned to the men. “Gentlemen! Please escort this poor soul to the edge of the village and let him take care of his business. Then bring him back here and lock him up. The lock will engage automatically. Simply close the cage door. I am going home to spend some time with my son. Good night.”
Fu watched the Governor and Ho depart. The Governor returned the torch to its spot in front of the bun vendor's shop, and Fu saw that a large basket of rice was now sitting on the ground outside the shop's door. It could have just been an illusion from the flickering light of the torch, but the top of the basket appeared to be shaking slightly—almost like it was laughing.
“Let's go, boy,” one of the men said to Fu. “We don't have all night.”
Fu followed. When