AUTHOR'S NOTE: A couple of weeks ago I tried putting a "adult content" marker on my blog because Clete has such a foul mouth, but it made access cumbersome and middle-school boys talk just as dirty as he does, so I removed it.
Those of you who are reading this story know that its content is pretty G-rated otherwise (it's a romantic comedy, really!). There are no detailed scenes where I describe pulsating, glistening body parts as they are employed in the physiological functions for which they are designed by God and nature (that is the definition of obscenity, right?). Nor is there great treachery and murder (there may be mayhem, I haven't decided yet).
So, there will be warning of foul language henceforth. Those wishing to avoid such language are invited to read and just make the following mental substitutions and you'll be fine:
A Clete Wong glossary:
Fuck! Shit! (exclamation) = Oh my! Rats!
Holy shit! = Now that's something! Would ya look at that!
fucking (adj) = friggin', very, exceptionally, unusually excessive
Goddamn (adj) = gosh-darn, very unpleasant, wholly disagreeable
Goddamn it! (exclamation) = That displeases me no end! So frustrating! You are in error.
What the fuck! = It's hard to believe that can happen so.
Go to fuckin' hell! = A moment please? I need to gather my thoughts.
Fuck off! = Not to worry, I can handle this.
Go fuck yourself! = Thank you, but your assistance is no longer necessary.
You get the idea. Hope this is helpful. Vocabulary Corner is now over. Back to our regular programming.
We pick right up in chronological order from where we left off last week. Remember that the conceit of this part of the story is that it is a mash-up by the island historian of various journal and diary entries and recalled conversations that she has preserved and collected.
Last week was a recollection by the eldest of the Second Princesses, Ling, daughter of Lee, the Guardian Princess of the Water Element. It falls to the oldest Seconds to deal with the occasional seaweed harvest. Qin Qin pulled Wen off after discovering that the old manuscripts from The Outside, which may say something about the Island's history, were written not in literary or numerical code, but rather in musical code, tablature corresponding to markings left on an old guqin (zither) by an early noble inhabitant of Dog Island.
If that all sounds like nonsense to you, you're just going to have to go back and read all the past entries... I'm sorry. Ain't no way I can easily recap everything.
There will be three major turnings coming up. We are getting close to the first turning, but we've got to get Clete out of jail first, and he has to interact with Ting-Ting (they've met briefly) and the Sea Witch. So hang in there.
Thanks for reading.
Love,
Pops
[Reporter’s note:
building upon Ling’s recollection, I have added the conversation that Wen and
I had when further researching how to further
decode the Outside Manuscripts. –Q]
We went to Wen’s house to pick up
her guqin. My plan was that we would go from there to the lab where all of the
Outside Manuscripts had been scanned. However as we approached we heard Wen’s
mother Feng working in the classroom.
“The instrument is in there,” said Wen.
“Good. Run in and get it.”
“No. Mother will question why I am not with the seaweeders.”
“Just tell her I needed you more.”
“Like that will work. Be serious.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Dereliction of duty is a major offense to her. Aren’t you afraid of
getting beaten?”
“It happens to me all the time.”
“You have no sense of shame. I’m different.”
“We need to get her out of there then. I’ll set the shed on fire. That
will be easy. That will distract her.”
“Qin! No! Why are you like this?”
“I”ll help rebuild it later. I promise? This is important.”
“I am not going to cooperate if you do things like that.”
“Awww. We’re going to have to wait until tonight then! This is awful.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that when you get close to finding something out,
you really want to get it done.”
“I am building my own instrument. It’s not fully sanded and lacquered,
and there are no pearl insets yet, but I think it will play if I string it up.”
“It’s probably in your house too then?”
“No, it’s at The Shrine, which has that nice workshop room. Aunt Ting
Ting gave me space to work there. I like to think building it there from wood
grown in the grove will give it special powers.”
“Will Aunt Ting Ting question why you are not seaweeding?”
“No. She always welcomes me, asks how the project is going, and never
asks other questions. She is so easygoing. Jie is so lucky.”
“I don’t think she’s the same way with Jie as she is with you.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Because you’re Feng’s daughter.”
“Why would that make a difference?”
“You mother is more important.”
“The Tortoise Guardian isn’t any more important than the Phoenix
Guardian. They are both on the Security Council. I don’t follow.”
“You are too close to the subject. The only one more important than your
mother is Mu. Never mind! Let’s just go the The Shrine and get YOUR
instrument.”
We arrive at The Shrine Workshop
and came upon Jie and Ting Ting at work
on preparations for the festivals for Seven Seven and for Lost Souls. As Wen
had said, Auntie Ting Ting welcomed us warmly.
“So nice to see you Qin Qin. And thank you for dressing properly to
attend business in The Shrine.”
“Properly?”
I looked down at myself. My hair had
dried out somewhat and was loose about me and I had on nothing. I ran off the
beach totally undressed. How had I not noticed? Thank goodness I had my
glasses. AND I had my new boots on.
“Umm. I’m a little cold? Do you have something I can throw on?” Auntie
Ting Ting’s smile turned into a frown. “Never mind. I’m fine, Auntie,” I said correcting
myself as I put my head onto the floor, kow-towing in apology. Auntie gave me a satisfied nod and moved off. I
rose and Wen gave me a questioning look. I whispered to her, “For your
information, Temple Guardian is more important than Fire Guardian. You are SO
uninformed about our real hierarchies because you’re at the top. I swear.”
I had drawn a diagram of all the
characters that were inscribed at all of the standard stops on the antique
guqin. I had a copy of the opening page of the Outside Manuscripts and we went
slowly converting each tablature symbol into its corresponding character
ideogram. This gave us a string of words where some of them made sense next to
one another, but mostly it was nonsense. We then had to search our vocabularies of all
the possible sound-alike words and substitute them in until we had a phrase
that made some sense. It was mentally
exhausting. After a few hours we had to take a break. We had not even cracked
the first complete sentence.
“Qin. This is going to take months, don’t you think?” said Wen. “Maybe
years?”
“I know,” I said dropping my head down. “Why did she write like this?
Why not just write what she wanted to say in classical Chinese?” I said. We were working on the floor of the
workshop. I flopped back and stared up
at the ceiling. I shut my eyes.
Wen took up her instrument and
sounded the notes we had spent time on. At first she just played the notes,
teaching her fingers where to move from one to the other. And then, she tried
to make shape them into a tune.
“What are you doing with the notes?” I asked.
“Tablature only tells you what notes to play. It doesn’t tell you how to
play them with each other. No lengths, no expression, no dynamics. The player
must make those choices. I’m making some choices.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It can be.”
I shut my eyes to rest them as Wen
worked out a rhythm. As she played the sound fell into the cadence of a spoken
phrase. She did it over and over. And then, I thought I heard fragments of
sentence:
“Gr______, m__ d___r, ____er granddaugh____
…”
“Wait! Did you hear THAT?” I said.
“It’s odd. When I play it like that it almost sounds like someone
whispering, muffled, with no consonants. Like they are talking behind a wall.”
“What did you do?”
“I am just trying to shape the
notes into a pattern that makes sense.”
“Try harder. Think more conversation. Not song.”
“Greetings, m___ ____r granddaughter …”
“Still fuzzy, but I could hear two definite words. Can you do it all
like that?”
“Maybe.”
“I just had a thought. She composed this using her own instrument. And
supposedly we have her instrument. The Ancient one. If you played it on hers, I
wonder if it would make a difference.”
“A plucked string is a plucked string. How different could it be? And
anyway, I’m not allowed to touch the Ancient Instrument. Only the Sea Witch and
the Court Musician may handle it. It’s so old it might fall apart.”
“But you’re the Apprentice Court Musician, and we’re here anyway, so it’s
just in one of these cupboards right? The Sea Witch allowed me to touch it that
one time. It seemed sturdy enough to me. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Qin! Restrain yourself.”
“Hang on. I’m just going to look in all of these cupboards. It won’t
hurt just to look at it again. Where did Natsuki put it again …”
“SIGH! The closet. To the right. Fourth shelf from the bottom. I feel my
own bottom hurting so bad—oh the
caning we are going to get … ”
© Copyright 2012 by Vincent Way, all rights reserved.
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Be truthful and frank, but be polite. If you use excessive profanity, I'll assume you have some kind of character flaw like Dr. Wong. Tks!