“Tss!” she said. And for emphasis, she flicked at his upper lip. “Pay attention. You will come upstairs now, and we will begin.”
Upstairs? To her private rooms? In his whole life, he’d never been up there. His father said she led children up there and killed them, which was an obvious lie. His mother said she kept expensive Chinese artifacts inside—nothing a child should see, much less touch. Auntie had merely said that he would be able to enter if he was worthy. That was how she’d convinced him to study when he’d wanted to drop out of school.Study and I will show you one thing from upstairs(an ancient scroll about the Monkey King).Practice Monkey kung fu, and I will tell you a secret from upstairs(another scroll, this one on Monkey kung fu that even the head of the dojo had never seen). On and on it went, with ancient scrolls and Monkey King toys. But she’d never actually let him upstairs.
Until now, when she was gesturing for him to follow her.
The idea gave him goose bumps and made his heart race in both terror and excitement. But rather than follow, he asked his perpetual question. “Why?”
She stiffened, as everybody did when he questioned their motivations. “Are you afraid?” she taunted. “Do you think I will kill you?”
“No,” he said, though his writer’s brain immediately conjured up a torture chamber where he would be hacked into a thousand tiny pieces to be added to her potions and special elixirs. “I want to know what I have done now to be considered worthy.”
“I already told you. You are loyal, you will not betray me, and so I will fund your movie.”
His heart lurched in his chest and his eyes watered. Hope shot bright and hot through his body. But just as quickly, he doused it. He had been disappointed by hope so many times that he protected himself with logic.
“Auntie, it is very expensive to produce a movie. I need $200,000 at least. More to do it correctly.”
She pulled herself upright. She was an old woman, perpetually stooped, except for now, when he could see how really tall she was. Almost six feet, she was like a starved tree—thin but perpetually stretching upward for more sun. “Do you think me a fool?”
“No—”
“Did I not read your script when you asked?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did I not double-check your bookkeeping?”
“Yes, you did—”
“Do you think I have worked night and day selling crap to tourists for no reason?”
“You are right, Auntie.” It wasn’t a direct answer to her question, but it was his go-to whenever he upset someone in his family. He bowed slightly from the waist, dropped his head, and affirmed their rule in everything.
“I have the money,” she said as she towered over him. “You must agree, though.”
“Of course, Auntie. I agree.” It was a lie. He could not take an old woman’s money, even if she ordered him to. Then he went back to the real reason he was here, the topic he was supposed to discuss with her before she distracted him with questions about his movie. “Mama is worried about you. You told me the cancer is gone—”
“It is gone.”
“But are you still on the medicines? What are you taking? Maybe they’re interacting in the wrong way—”
She waved his questions away. “I will give you money for your movie. In return, you will share your body with the Monkey King.”
He blinked at her. He couldn’t possibly have heard correctly. “You want… what?”
“You will become a god. In return for a million dollars, you will say yes to the Monkey King spirit.” She leaned forward in glee. “You will become healthy, like me! Pain-free, like me! You will be a god, and we will wander the earth like we once did!”
Walter recoiled. “No, I won’t.” She was acting like a B-movie villain. Her eyes were wide, her gestures manic, and… and this wasn’t the auntie he remembered. “I think you need to go to the doctor—”
“Pssst!” she hissed. “Do you not want to be a god?”
“No.” He sighed. “Auntie, all I want is to get you to a doctor.”
“And make your movie, yes?”
He nodded. She knew it was true. “But—”
“Listen. I will give you a million dollars for you to make your movie. But you must change the script the way I tell you.”
