The Furious Spinner

It is raining, raining, raining, and I am emersed (and I use this word deliberately) in writing The Tao of Maggie. (The book I am writing while at the Portland Classical Chinese Gardens.) Something about the rain—and the time I've spent recently with the salmon—have made me feel somewhat fluid. Do you think it's possible I'm actually learning to go with the flow? Strange since, if taken literally, my last name means "against water."

Since I'm otherwise occupied, I thought I would post a story I wrote a couple of years ago for our (semi) annual Just Desserts Winter Solstice celebration. It's a potluck dessert party held at our house where we do some kind of Solstice storytelling ritual-making. One year we turned off all the lights. Then I gave the youngest boy a drum to bang slowly and the youngest girl a lantern, and they walked through the house as we sang a song about the return of the sun. Anyway, two Solstices ago, I wrote this story and made a little chapbook out of it to give to people at the party. On the very last page it reads, "Dragon Pearl gifts you with this "magical" ordinary button as a good luck talisman for all your transformative journeys. Blessed Be!" And I sewed a button beneath the words on each chapbook.

This story was inspired by the Japanese folktale, "Tsukina Waguma, The Crescent Moon Bear" which I first read in Clarissa Pinkola Estés Women Who Run With the Wolves. (She is a great speaker and teacher, by the way, if you ever get a chance to see her.) If you've read the Crescent Moon Bear story, you'll see I have tinkered with it more than a little bit, which will offend purists, I am sure. I always tell people not to analyze my stories looking for me in them because they won't find me. I don't write about me. And I certainly didn't write about me in "Dragon Pearl." However, after I had some distance from the tale, I realized I wrote it right after I returned to the Pacific Northwest from a very difficult visit with my family in Michigan.

Enjoy. See you in a few.

Dragon Pearl

(the short version)

a mythic tale by Kim Antieau

Once upon a time, a shy young woman named Pearl lived with and cared for her parents and their farm until they got ill and became even crankier than ever with her. Several days before the longest night of the year, Pearl visited the healer who lived at the edge of the forest and asked for her help. The healer agreed she could easily make a potion to heal Pearl’s parents, but she was out of a crucial ingredient.

“I-I will get it, whatever it is.” Pearl stammered because she was not accustomed to talking with strangers.

“Bring me back the dragon pearl from the dragon on the Eastern Mountain Where the Red Poppies Grow.”

Pearl gasped. Everyone knew that a dragon pearl was priceless and could cure any ill, and a dragon would die—and kill—to protect it. It was said every dragon carried the dragon pearl in a tiny pouch in her throat.

“I will go,” said Pearl, even though she had never even been out of her village.

“Once you are in the forest,” the healer advised, “you must pick up the first thing you see that does not appear to belong. Take it with you. That is your talisman and it will bring you great luck during your journey.”

Pearl left the healer and went into the forest. She was afraid of all the strange noises she heard, but she travelled on. Soon enough she saw something on the ground that did not look like it belonged. She bent over and picked up a small round blue ordinary-looking button. She rubbed it to see if a genie would come out; she whispered to it to see if her wishes might come true, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Nevertheless, she tucked the button into a safe place in her knapsack and kept walking.

Since this is the short version of Pearl’s story, I will say at this point that she had many great adventures which tried her strength, patience, and ingenuity. But she continued on her way to the Eastern Mountain Where the Red Poppies Grow.

One day she had to walk many hours in a terrible snowstorm. She came to a woman huddled on the side of the road. Pearl asked if she needed help. The woman said, “I am so cold. My coat will not stay closed.” Pearl looked and could see the woman was freezing because she had lost a button on her coat. While the woman ate the food and drank the water Pearl offered her, Pearl reached into her knapsack and pulled out her sewing kit. She had no extra buttons, so she retrieved the magical blue button she had found on the forest floor and sewed it onto the woman’s coat.

“Ahhh, that is much better,” the woman said. “I thank you.”

She went on her way, and Pearl went hers.

The next day, the snow melted and Pearl came to the village at the bottom of the Eastern Mountain Where the Red Poppies Grow. She asked the first person she saw where the dragon lived, but he would not tell her. No one would. As everyone knows, any town worth its salt has a dragon to protect its assets and give the occasional speech and light the bonfire during ceremonies—and the villagers don’t want strangers bothering their dragon or trying to lure it away with promises of shinier pastures, so to speak. Pearl went to the castle where the queen lived. Perhaps the queen would be more understanding about her plight and tell her where the dragon was.

“It is you,” the queen said when she opened the door to Pearl’s insistent knocking.

“It is you,” Pearl said, nodding to the woman whose coat she had fixed only the day before.

“I owe you my life,” the queen said after Pearl told her why she wanted to see the dragon, “so I will do you this favor and tell you where the dragon is, although I warn you, we haven’t seen much of the dragon lately.”

As soon as the queen told Pearl the way, Pearl ran right up the Eastern Mountain Where the Red Poppies Grow and found the dragon pacing alongside a clear placid lake. The dragon was ruby red in color and roared fire when it saw Pearl.

“Please, Mr. Dragon, don’t hurt me,” Pearl said, holding up her hands. “It is urgent that you help me.”

“Hah! It is always urgent,” the dragon roared. “And I-I am not Mister Dragon, thank you. THAT was my uncle and he died and I was the only one even halfway qualified to take this job! I-I didn’t want it!”

The dragon stammered just like Pearl used to when she was nervous.

“What can I call you then?” Pearl asked.

“Ruby Red,” the dragon said. “Now what do you want?”

“My parents are ill and the healer said she can heal them if she has your dragon pearl for her potion.”

The dragon’s eyes narrowed and Pearl thought she was just about to burn her alive.

Instead, Ruby Red replied, “I see you are in great need. I will help you if you will help me. You seem like an articulate person. I am supposed to give a speech at tomorrow’s Solstice celebration. I HATE giving speeches. I don’t like crowds either. All that touching and talking. If I could just come in, light the bonfire, and leave. Actually, I don’t want to do that either, but what’s a dragon to do?”

Pearl agreed she would give the speech; in return, the dragon would give her the dragon pearl.

Pearl went down the mountain and practiced her speech all night. Midday, the villagers began to gather at the town center. They told stories, sang, and ate until the sun went down. When it was dark, Pearl went and stood by the unlit bonfire with the villagers. Suddenly, she heard the whush, whush, whush of the dragon’s wings and looked up. It was so dark she could see nothing except the dragon’s slit orange eyes that looked like two crescent moons. With a thud Ruby Red dragon landed behind Pearl and opened her mouth just enough so Pearl was lit with her throaty fire.

“Your dragon, Miss Ruby Red, has a touch of laryngitis,” Pearl said. “So I will speak on her behalf tonight. She wanted me to tell you that she is proud and pleased to follow in her uncle’s footsteps and protect the assets of your fine town. She will do whatever she can to fulfill her duties. She wishes you all good health and prosperity for the new year.”

With that, Ruby Red opened her jaws wide and spit fire onto the waiting bonfire sticks until they caught fire. The crowd roared with pleasure as the flames leapt into the darkness. Then the dragon jumped into the air and flew away.

The villagers ate, told stories, and drummed until the darkness turned gray. Until the sun became an orange-red sliver on the horizon like a dragon’s eye. The villagers cheered the rising sun, then went home to bed.

Pearl climbed the mountain again.

“I have come for the dragon pearl,” Pearl told Ruby Red.

The dragon hung her head. “I have to confess something to you.”

Butterflies fluttered in Pearl’s stomach.

“There is no dragon pearl,” the dragon said. “It’s a myth. I’m so sorry I deceived you.”

Pearl gasped. “No! That’s can’t be true. Everyone knows about the dragon pearl.”

Ruby Red nodded. “Yes, everyone knows about the Philosopher’s Stone, too, but no one has ever seen it. If a dragon pearl exists I have never seen one. You can have any of my treasures. There are lots of pearls. Technically, you could call any of those pearls dragon pearls since I—a dragon—guard them.”

Pearl was inconsolable. Now her parents would never be healed.

“You can stay here with me,” the dragon offered. “We could protect the villagers together. A team. You the words. Me the fire. Tell me what I can do to help you.”

“Take me back to the healer’s cottage.”

The dragon nodded. Pearl climbed into the pouch in the dragon’s huge throat—there really was a pouch, just no pearl—and minutes later she was standing alone in the forest near the healer’s cottage. She listened to the sounds of the woods and realized she was no longer afraid of what she heard or saw.

She went into the healer’s cottage and told the woman her story.

“I have failed,” Pearl said.

The healer shook her head. “I asked you to bring me the dragon pearl and so you have. I finally see before me the person I midwifed into this world, the person I named Dragon Pearl. You have found she who is you. You are now no longer in need of the healing potion.”

“Dragon Pearl?”

“That was your given name.”

“My parents never told me,” Pearl said.

“Your parents have always underestimated you,” the healer said. “They do not understand your true nature.”

Pearl wasn’t certain she understood her true nature either, yet she did feel greatly changed by her journey. She thanked the healer and returned home. As she walked up the path to her house, she could see that the farm had been well tended in her absence. The animals looked healthy. Someone had patched the barn roof. She went inside the house. Her mother stirred a pot of soup hanging over the fire. Her father stood at the table cutting up vegetables. They looked healthy, vigorous, talking and laughing as they worked. They turned around when Pearl said hello.

“Oh, it is so good you are home,” her mother said. “We have had to do so much on our own.”

“Yes, there’s so much to do, little Pearl,” her father said. “Why did you desert us?”

Pearl smiled as her parents sat at the table and looked disapprovingly at her.

“I have come only for a visit,” Pearl said. “It is good to see you well again.”

“No thanks to you,” her father said.

“Yes, no thanks to me,” Pearl said.

Pearl ate dinner with her parents and told them of her travels. In the morning she packed her knapsack and kissed her parents.

“Good-bye, Dragon Pearl,” her parents called as she left.

Dragon Pearl waved good-bye. She returned to the Eastern Mountain Where the Red Poppies Grow. She became known for her eloquent speeches and fascinating stories. People came from all around to participate in the ceremonies she and Ruby Red Dragon officiated. She had many adventures, near and far, and lived happily ever after.

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