Watersnake, Firesnake

Watersnake, Firesnake
by Jason Erik Lundberg
Last updated: 2007-04-21

There was a boy named Chan who loved his parents, though they did
not love him back; he was not even given a first name. He had been
born in the wrong month, during the wrong phase of the moon, his
parents told him, and had brought them nothing but bad luck. The
promotion at the factory promised to his father was taken away at the
last moment. The garden his mother worked in nearly every day never
produced anything more than the most meager of weeds since Chan's
birth. It was often sunny in the little Chinese village, but there was an
almost constant gloom over their house, as if a rogue cloud were
blocking the sun only over their property. And his parents, of course,
blamed Chan for everything.
He was small for his age, and usually quiet. He liked to listen to people
instead of talking, filling himself with stories. He was a good boy and
always did as he was told, and could see the good in his parents, even if
others couldn't. Every so often, his mother would allow him a sweet, or
his father would bring home an origami folding kit. They didn't like to
show it to others, but his parents could be kind. Chan was patient and
knew they would love him eventually.
He was digging one day between the fence and the west side of the
house for grubs to feed to his pet chameleon, Rainbow. It was a warm
July day not long after his tenth birthday. He often went there because
it was cool and damp from the shade of the trees, and the worms
seemed to like it there. He never took more than he needed, then he
thanked the grubs for sacrificing their lives so that Rainbow could
remain living and being his pet. Chan was very kind-hearted when it
came to grubs.

As Chan was digging with his stick, he hit something hard and it made
a loud clang. He brought the stick down again and heard the same
metal noise. Chan thought it might be treasure, since his aunt had found
a jewelry box filled with pearls in her garden last year. He scrabbled
and dug for ten more minutes before uncovering the egg. It was heavier
than it looked.
The egg was the size of a goose egg, but black with flecks of silver and
red running across its surface. When he held it, a warmth spread
throughout his body, and he had the momentary impression of flying. It
seemed to be unbreakable as well, since it remained whole after Chan
tripped over his own shoes and dropped it on the ground.
He snuck back to his room and set the egg on a small pillow, then
surrounded it with old shirts and socks so that it would be warm. Then
he placed the pillow in the top drawer of his dresser. He would peek at
the egg every chance he got, which wasn't much because of all his
chores. But on those occasions, he would look at the egg, and stroke it
with a finger, and all the hairs on the back of his neck would stand on
end.
After three weeks of having the egg, strangers came to call. Chan's
mother was ripping out the weeds in the back garden and didn't hear the
knock, so Chan answered the door. Before him stood a dark man with a
bald head and a serious look on his face, and a beautiful woman with
brown hair and a brilliant smile. The woman looked slightly Asian, but
her skin was paler, nearly translucent in places, revealing strong blue
veins underneath. Her grey eyes were round instead of almond, and she
wore deep blue robes. The man had skin the color of burnt umber, and
was dressed in a white shirt and dark green slacks; Chan guessed he
came from Hong Kong, since most Westerners in the area lived or
visited there.
"Greetings, Master Chan," the woman said in perfect Mandarin. "I
understand you have just unearthed something rather valuable."
The man next to her smiled briefly, then placed his hands in his
pockets.

"I'm sorry?" Chan said. His voice shook slightly.
"I believe you have found a rare egg that we have been searching for,"
the woman said. "It is a very precious item, that egg. May we see it?"
"I . . . I don't know," said Chan. He was always told never to talk to
strangers, let alone bring them into the house. He had already broken
the first rule, and his mother would be upset enough about that . . . "No,
I'm sorry."
The woman's smile dropped slightly. "But Master Chan, we could