In the Pupal Stage (standard:Creative non-fiction, 3678 words)
Author: Mookoo Liang	Added: Feb 13 2006	Views/Reads: 3240/2212	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is a real story about Moodee, a young man in his 20's, presented in five sections: (1) Burning off the diaries, (2) The previous experience, (3) Trying hard to escape, (4) A sharp turn in life, (5) Wishes for a new day.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

it!) was always flowing in the fixed direction. 

Sure enough the canal was not a straight one. There must have been many
curves in it; otherwise, it would have been too boring---and, what's 
more, it would have lost its function of irrigating the rice fields. 

There were rice fields in all shapes and sizes, higher or lower, in the
village where Moodee spent his childhood. Moodee did not leave his 
hometown until graduation from junior high. Basically, he loved his 
place of birth, not only because it was a beautiful mountainous area, 
but also because he loved his parents and all his brothers and sisters. 


He was the eldest child in the family. He was sure that his parents, a
peasant and his wife, loved their eight children so much---with all 
their heart, their mind, and their might. They had been working very, 
very hard to support this family. So, Moodee was willing to do 
everything for them, as long as he could. On weekends or during the 
winter or summer vacation, he followed them either up to the hill or 
down to the rice field, to help with some laborious work. 

Different seasons brought different jobs. Accordingly, he would scarify
the soil in the dry fields so as to grow sweet potatoes; he would cut 
down the weeds in the plum orchard on the hillside; he would pick pears 
and carry them to the "fruit market"---with two large bamboo baskets on 
a shoulder pole. 

It was no easy job to shoulder the crops. Every time Moodee and his
father carried something on the shoulders to a market or somewhere, he 
would fall behind his father, because the heavy loads always made him 
take some additional rests on the way. 

The easiest thing for him to do was lead the cow to an open field, where
it would graze by itself. Moodee was then allowed to do whatever he 
liked: to lie on the grass and watch the floating clouds, to collect 
wild flowers or beautiful butterflies, or to climb up a tree and 
imagine that he was a knight fighting on horseback. How enjoyable! But, 
as soon as his brother was old enough to graze the cow, Moodee had no 
more chance to do that "soft job." 

In those days farm machinery was not widely used. Even if there had been
some good machines available, Moodee's family could not afford them. 
How could the eldest son be too lazy to work on the farm? One morning, 
as expected, Moodee got up earlier than usual. He was ready to 
experience something new by following his father to the rice fields. 

Dawn was just breaking when Moodee and his father arrived at the first
field. The water in the field had been let out; on the soft soil were 
young plants of rice standing in parallel rows. These 
less-than-a-foot-tall plants, slightly shaking in the morning breeze, 
made the whole piece of land look like a huge trembling chessboard with 
green lines, which formed thousands of squares. Moodee felt a little 
chilly. He knew he would be kneeling right in the "mud" for the work. 

Moodee's father demonstrated how to "mop" (or "wipe") the weeds with
bare hands. You kneel low in the wet field, bend your upper body 
forward, and move both your hands among the plants skillfully---rubbing 
the surface of the soft soil. You must tell weeds from rice at first 
sight, so you can properly "push" or "pull" or "pick" the unwanted and 
then "press" them down into the mud. Moodee was a quick learner, though 
he was then only twelve years old. 

The father and son were like two chessmen moving steadily from one side
of the field to the other; then they made a U-turn to remove weeds from 
other rows of rice. Normally, five rows of plants were dealt with at a 
time. Owing to his shorter arms, Moodee was unable to reach so far as 
to cover five rows. He just took care of three rows: one passing 
between his legs, the other two separately on his right and on his 
left. 

There came a villager with whom Moodee's father was acquainted. The man
appeared to be surprised at what he saw, telling Moodee's father that 
he had got a really good boy. Moodee's father replied with a smile, 
"Oh! I am mo-ngiu-sih-ma, ain't I?" The phrase "mo-ngiu-sih-ma" 
literally means, "Having no ox, I therefore use a horse." It was used 
as a modest expression in the Hakka dialect. Moodee realized all that. 

Basically, Moodee was a "healthy boy" who had a good self-image. He had
wanted to be an obedient son, a hard-working student, and a helpful 
friend. As a matter of fact, high praise from his teachers, his 
relatives, and his neighbors had made him quite sure of himself. 

Now that he was working in the rice field with his father, the only
obstacle for him to overcome was his physical weakness. He was getting 
tired. He had, again, fallen behind his father. Could he catch up with 
his father later? It was improbable! But, at least, he could manage to 
"make progress." 

(3) Trying hard to escape 

Although he loved (and respected!) his father so much, Moodee did not
want to be a peasant. He had been studying hard and learning well in 
school. He found it attractive to explore somewhere other than his home 
village. Above all, all his teachers and most of his senior relatives 
told him that he should go to senior high for further study, and then 
go to college, and then... 

His future was thought to be bright, promising, as boundless as the sea
and sky, so to speak. How could he confine himself to this mountainous 
area for all his days to come? Was he able to fly out of this "small 
cozy nest" so as to have the whole world in view? Looking back, he 
didn't really know what to think---he had very mixed feelings on his 
personal plight. 

Moodee's parents as well as their children had been living in straitened
circumstances. That's why Moodee spent his "holidays" working on the 
hillside or in the fields. It seemed clear that his desire for further 
study had made his parents uneasy, because tuition and accommodations 
were usually so expensive. Only in a military school, a policemen's 
school, or in a teachers' school could you study free. And, you know, 
very limited students were admitted to the teachers' school each year. 

Now Moodee was going to graduate from junior high in less than three
months. He was very worried about the Entrance Examination. He was 
aware that, although he had been one of the top students in his school, 
he might not be as good as competitors from other junior high schools. 
He had to ¡§labor¡¨ on the hill or in the fields in his "spare time," 
yet many others were just spending every minute and second preparing 
for the tests. 

The more Moodee thought about his future, the more anxious he was. "If I
fail in the entrance exam, what will become of me?" He thought he would 
possibly become a pitiful peasant, or something like that, just like 
all his cousins that had grown up in this mountainous village. What a 
shame for a young student to lose his ambition! Moodee was so eager for 
success that he would concentrate on studies right off. 

From then on, he studied even harder; he buried himself in books day in
and day out. This moved his parents so much that they did not ask him 
to work outdoors any more. Once in a while, Moodee would think of his 
father's metaphorical phrase "mo-ngiu-sih-ma." He felt like working as 
patiently as "ngiu" (oxen) and "ma" (horses); however, he preferred 
"ma" to "ngiu" because the former run much faster. 

One day, Moodee was told by his mother, "Boy, you've been studying hard
for weeks. Why don't you take a break and follow us to the Temple? Your 
dad and I will ask En-Chu-Kung to help you pass the exams." Moodee was 
grateful to know that his parents would pray for him. Whether 
En-Chu-Kung was really helpful or not, he went to the temple with his 
parents. 

After they worshiped all the deities in the temple, Moodee's mother
returned to the main hall in the middle and prayed to En-Chu-Kung for 
revelation. On the altar was a tube-shaped container with a hundred 
long bamboo sticks in it, each stick indicating a number. She lifted up 
the container with her hands, said something softly, and then drew 
lots. She asked three questions, so she got three numbers in all. 

According to the numbers, three poems were found on three separate slips
hanging among others on the wall. They were En-Chu-Kung's words about 
what Moodee's mother had asked: "Can my son pass the exam for a 
teachers' school?" "Will he go to a vocational school?" "How about the 
general senior high?" Oh, no. All three poems were terribly negative! 

Moodee's mother, an illiterate person, was not satisfied with her son's
explanation of the poems. She thought she might have prayed in a wrong 
way. She wanted her husband to re-ask the questions. To their surprise, 
one of the two sticks drawn by Moodee's father was marked with the very 
same number as one of those that Moodee's mother had previously picked. 


How could it be so? There were one hundred numbers all together. The
probability of the same number being picked twice would be very little. 
All of a sudden, Moodee became very, very frustrated. He almost burst 
into tears when his parents tried to comfort him. His mother told him 
that En-Chu-Kung had meant to stimulate him to greater efforts. But he 
was quite puzzled. "Is it true? Is it true that I have no chance at 
all?" He kept asking himself, in silence. 

That night, he put all five poems into his diary by gluing the slips.
They functioned as a bookmarker, warning the writer and reader of the 
notebook that he had no time to waste. Moodee was really a hard-working 
student. And it sounded true that where there's a will there's a way. 
Two months later, the results of the Entrance Examination came out. 
Moodee was one of the happiest young people who were allowed in Green 
Garden. 

(4) A sharp turn in life 

Those five years when Moodee was in Green Garden was the golden age of
his life. He was in his element, feeling like fish in water. He made a 
lot of friends, who were interesting and helpful; he also got some very 
good teachers, such as Mr. Tung and Mr. Liu, who were men of great 
character and great learning. 

With such "idols" leading or guiding, how could a young man be too
"idle" to look and move forward? Moodee made rapid progress, indeed. He 
was interested in most of the courses that dealt with education, 
knowing that he himself would become a schoolteacher someday. 

Besides the required courses, he enjoyed himself in a variety of
activities. He had more "spare time" (also called "leisure time" or 
"free time") than ever before, so he could do many things that were 
really interesting and meaningful. 

He found it fascinating to explore the world of literature---those
well-known masterpieces, ancient or modern, Chinese or Western! He 
loved reading and also writing. Every so often he would stay in the 
school library all day long. He loved arts and music as well. Though he 
could not afford to learn from "private tutors," he learned how to 
appreciate different artistic forms and styles. 

From an objective point of view, Green Garden was much smaller than the
hillside where Moodee used to work; and the plants in Green Garden were 
not so colorful as those in Moodee's home village. But Moodee liked 
Green Garden even better, because in this place he could get himself 
much more cultivated. 

Time flies. When graduating from Green Garden, Moodee was already
twenty-one years old. As a qualified teacher then, he was sent (by the 
Government) to an elementary school near the seashore, which was also 
far away from his home village. His future should have been bright and 
promising, as boundless as the sky and sea; but in reality he became 
very sick. 

At first, he did not care at all; then he found himself in a more and
more difficult situation. There was pain in his buttocks, then in his 
legs and buttocks; finally, his waist also caused trouble. He was so 
weak that he could not sit or stand or walk for long. Frequently he had 
to take a rest by lying down in bed. He went to see a doctor, and then 
another doctor; it seemed that no one was able to find out the real 
cause. 

Time of suffering was hard and long. Moodee had spent almost one year
trying to find the solution; he had been introduced to many doctors, 
even to those unlicensed; and yet, after each trial period, the illness 
turned out to be worse. Moodee as well as his parents were very 
discouraged, without knowing what to do. 

One evening, Moodee's parents were preparing for rice-planting. They
were fixing the bamboo baskets that were to be used the next day to 
carry "yong" (very young plants of rice) to the wet fields. Moodee came 
to them, thinking that he might be able to help. No sooner had he 
squatted down than his stomach started to ache. The great pain made it 
necessary for him to be sent to hospital at once. He underwent an 
"emergency operation" on the stomach that night. 

What a "snow plus frost" situation! Moodee did not come back to "normal"
quickly. During the first few months, he had to strictly control what 
he ate and drank; if he drank more than half a cup of water at a time, 
he would be streaming with sweat. And, when his health gradually 
improved, he realized that his original problem had not been solved 
yet. He became nervous; he felt unlucky and unhappy. 

Day after day Moodee's life was like a time-consuming struggle, just
like a small boat rising and falling on the rough sea. "What is my 
destination? Am I going to reach home safely?" Moodee felt lonely---and 
helpless! Sure enough his family and friends were willing to help, but 
they were unable to do so. 

After the operation on his stomach, Moodee went into hospital more
often. For several times, he had to stay in that unpleasant place for 
over one month. He had asked for long-term sick leave from his job. He 
was forced to rest in bed---either in a hospital or in his parents' 
cottage. How miserable he was! He wished that he could have worked very 
well in the elementary school, or even in his father's rice fields! 

(5) Wishes for a new day 

Moodee was now lying in bed in the hospital, far away from his hometown.
He was alone and lonely. He thought of those "good old days" again, and 
began daydreaming that he would transform into a bird, or a butterfly, 
or part of the clouds in the sky... 

If he had been a cloud, he would have been floating above his home
village; if he had been a bird, he would have flown to many of his 
former classmates and teachers. "But, could I become a beautiful 
butterfly?" he suddenly had such a question. 

The ward in which Moodee had been staying was originally painted
yellowish white. Now it looked rather old, somewhat like a prison. 
Confined to this cocoon-like space, Moodee imagined that he was a pupa. 


Fortunately, he was a thinking pupa; he would not stop thinking or
feeling until he fell asleep. (After falling asleep, would he have a 
nice dream?) Anyway, he was not so depressed as in the previous weeks. 

Some ten days before, he was totally disconsolate---his heart and mind
broke; his strength and courage collapsed; his hopes and dreams 
crumbled. It was a Friday afternoon in the fall. Moodee suddenly felt 
so sorry for himself that he wrote a strange letter to Mr. Tung, one of 
his favorite teachers in Green Garden. Then, at noon on Sunday, Moodee 
saw Mr. Tung standing beside his bed. 

Moodee burst into tears then and there. He was surprised to see that his
respected teacher also did so. The teacher and student chatted in the 
ward all afternoon. They talked and talked and talked. When the elder 
left the hospital late in the evening, the younger seemed to have grown 
very mature. 

It was Mr. Tung's stories that made Moodee regain the faith and the
courage. One of the stories was about Mr. Tung's eldest son, who had 
gotten serious polio when he was very small. Mr. Tung described in 
detail how difficult the situation had been. At the end of the story, 
he asked Moodee, "Can you imagine how anxious a father who has such a 
child would be?" 

Moodee nodded. He then thought of Mr. Liu, another of his favorite
teachers in Green Garden. Mr. Liu, who got a PhD in Spanish literature, 
had been much respected by his students. He had a retarded son. Oh! How 
come good men could not have avoided "problem sons"? 

Again, how come an obedient son, a hard-working student, and a helpful
friend---such three-in-one would become a pupa? Was the pupa going to 
die or to transform? The doctor had finally promised to perform a 
medical operation on Moodee's spine. Although Moodee did not really 
believe in En-Chu-Kung, he placed beneath his pillow the "blessing bag" 
that his father had asked for in the Temple. 


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