Jordan was at the Temple of the Heavenly Mother. Large marble steps led him past a stone dragon spitting water, under the large red arch, and through doors guarded by large heavenly spirits. They stood by the door, fierce eyes accented with red eyeshadow and strong--unplucked--disapproving eyebrows. The stone carvings on the walls, depicting various animals and defeats of demon spirits made his insides churn.
His aunt gave him nine lit incense sticks, "We will be going to nine different statues. Bow, say a prayer, and then stick one stick in with the rest."
As he followed through the crowds who had taken their weekends off for this little pilgrimage, his nose stung of the smell of the incense. He could hear soft prayers from those kneeling on the worn, red cushions they place in front of the fruit offerings.
They stopped in front of a large statue first, its dark face shielded by rows of shining white pearls, dangling from the old, golden crown. He began to wonder if they were real. If they were, how much would those large pearls cost?
"Isn't the Heavenly Mother so majestic?" his aunt sighed.
"Why is her face black?"
His aunt shot him a look, and he pretended to look as if he was praying really hard to the Heavenly Mother.
Isn't that racist?
He heard the clatter of wooden objects thrown on the ground, and he turned to ask about it.
"A method of fortune telling," his uncle said. "You ask the Heavenly Mother yes or no questions, and depending on how the crescent moons fall can mean 'yes', 'no,' or 'you don't need to ask'."
"'You don't need to ask'? What is that supposed mean?"
"Means you already know the answer. You can ask the same question again if you really want to hear the answer. Want to try?"
Jordan shook his head, and followed his aunt to nine different shrines. At each one, as he bowed to the statues at a ninety degree angle, incense held perpendicular to his forehead, he didn't know what to say. Thanks for everything?
As they finished praying to the nine spirits and gods and Bodhisattvas, his aunt and uncle wandered off to a nearby room where spiritual prophecies were being made. He could hear the chanting, the loud murmurs, and the sound of a something hard hitting flesh.
"Come see!" his aunt whispered to him.
He shook his head and walked back to the Grand Hall.
He eyed the wooden crescent moons resting on the tabletop. Each crescent was flat on one side and round on the other.
"Have a question for the Heavenly Mother?" asked an old monk, head shining under harsh lights. He had a pleasant enough smile, if his teeth hadn't blackened and fallen out. "Hold the two moons to your chest, ask your question, and drop them on the ground."
The two moons hit the floor in a clatter, and the two flat sides were facing up.
"That means "You don't need to ask"." The monk's eyes were hidden beneath long eyebrows. "You can ask again if you'd like."
Two flat sides of the moon faced up.
"Perhaps ask the question in a different way." The monk sounded surprised.
Two flat sides of the moon faced up.
"It's all right." Jordan took a step back. "I guess I don't need to know."
As he waited for his aunt and uncle, he sat next to the water-spitting dragon head.
His fingers were stained red by the stems of the incense sticks, and he felt ashamed for wanting to wash his hands. He could hear prayers muttered at the large steel incense pot, and he watched as the ashes from the incense glowed red and faded as the wind took it up higher and higher. The sounds of the bells, and the clattering of wooden moons drowned out the sound of the knife sawing away in his chest.
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