Chapter 3- Worms. Dragons and Monkeys

/x/

That Dad was waiting for us on the front porch wasn't surprising considering that a collapsing mountain and landslide would be on the news within minutes of it happening. Dad's smart enough to put two and two together, but what shocked me was the bandage he applied over his left palm. I jumped off the cloud once we were about a foot off the pitch, and ran towards Dad while panting from the excitement of traveling on a flying cloud. His shirt was half buttoned from the waist up, while his hands were damp with traces of soap. Dad gave me a quick glance and smile before resuming his glare at Wukong and Wukong helped to calm things down by giving a wide grin and resting on his staff.

Wait. Did I say calm things down?

Silly me.

This is Sun Wukong we're talking about, who once made Mom so mad she yelled at him until her face turned blue because she forgot to pause for breath during their shouting match. He said something sexist, even for him to set her off. I was about seven at the time, but it was something about there's only one female being he ever felt respect for, and that was the Goddess of Mercy Guanshiyin, or Guanyin for short. Mom actually paused, her scowl morphed into a confused frown before Wukong dropped his idea of a punchline.

"And she used to be a man, only turning into a woman to get some lovesick princess out of her hair!"

Wukong loves to poke people when they're mad, is what I'm saying. Though Mom did get one over the monkey when we had our picnic by leaving the dish of honey Wukong so loved just out of reach. Dad looked the other way and ignored Wukong's pleas for help, guilty because he had laughed at Wukong's admittedly sexist pig zinger.

"Hiya, Danny boy," Wukong waved at Dad, his half lidded stare and grin designed to raise your heckles while Dad stomped over to him with murder in his eyes. "Broke anything important while washing the dishes?"

"Screw you, Monkey," Dad clenched his fists, "that's over the line, even for you."

"What? You didn't appreciate the real time update about that shrew somehow gaming the karma system and getting the best possible deal barring Nirvana?" Wukong scratched his head, "I thought you loved her?"

I'd tell off Wukong for calling Mom a shrew after I specifically told him not to, but Dad got to him first by socking him right in the jaw. Dad hissed as he rubbed his right knuckles, while Wukong stared at me sprawled out on the floor with nary a care in the world.

"Master?" I resisted the urge to step on Wukong's tail as I walked over and loomed over him, "I think your father has some anger issues."

"And I think I know why," I said before I sighed and turned to Dad. The bruises on his right knuckle were concerning, but Dad shot that concerned smile he used when he noticed me being worried over him before I could speak.

"Glad you're back safely, Taylor. Don't worry about the camp management, and let me deal with it."

I bit back the swear word that nearly rolled off my tongue as I felt Dad brush me away like he almost always did after Mom died. If Mom had moved on, I'm not about to let Dad be left behind as I walked ahead.

"Dad,"

I stared into his eyes while his fatherly mask remained unshakeable. The words that had remained buried in the part of my chest that after Mom died, words that I couldn't bear to speak to Dad while I was also running and hiding from her death finally bubbled to the surface. All this while Wukong's golden eyes that burned away lies looked on.

"Stop pushing me away."

"Kiddo, you're-"

I continued looking at him, as the mask he hid behind started to crack. Wukong leaped to his feet, and swaggered over while Dad glanced at him almost with relief at the distraction.

"Wukong, not now."

"Master," Wukong actually smiled before he leaned towards me. "Why not let me talk to the man I watched grow up? Monkey to man."

"Wukong."

"Danny boy's losing himself in all those roles he's playing as father, husband and manager until he's lost the man he's supposed to be," Dad remained stoic, but his eyes twitched for a second before Wukong gently led me by the shoulder away from Dad and placed himself between us.

"More than just privacy and his pride, Master. Danny boy just needs to live as himself again, but no way that's going to happen when his daughter's right in front of him."

I looked away from Wukong and shut my eyes to gather my thoughts, in the dark space of my mind I found so familiar and safe when it's only myself and me.

Torrents of words, a speech that I've practiced to myself on the cruise in the clouds from the camp back to Brockton Bay threatened to burst out right here right now. I wanted to yell at Dad for burying himself in the union and other matters while he ignored my puffed eyes from crying over Mom. I yearned to lash out how he took fatherhood at the most superficial level, until Emma had to step in and guide me out of the shadows of Mom's passing. The urge to confess to him my fear that the car crash had took both my parents away, leaving only the empty shell of Daniel Hebert who heard but didn't listen and looked but didn't see.

To not just speak, but emote the dread I felt over losing him. How dare Wukong presume to know my own father better than me. My eyes snapped open, venom on the tip of my tongue until I saw Wukong's face. All-knowing with the swagger that accompanied him like the scent of rock and mud.

"Master, work with the fact that your mother's somewhere better now. I needed a mountain to pin me down, but you're burying yourself rock by rock."

Being lectured to by a monkey, even one as old as Wukong is. Heartfelt words of pain and guilt turned into so much noise, as tension washed off me and I walked towards the house.

"Dad? Wukong?" I turned back to them, and Wukong gave me a thumbs up while Dad looked confused.

"Enjoy yourselves," I said before I walked into the house. I reached the bottom of the stairs when I heard Dad start to yell again, but the spring and sense of weightlessness in my step didn't diminish as I ascended the steps. The lights in my room were off, but I stepped into my unlit room almost giddy. I felt like my age again, and looked forward to a new day. I almost kicked off my pants when I switched to my sleeping clothes, and the full moon shone into my face as I turned to face the window. Wukong and Dad's voice trailed upwards as the door closed and I heard the clinging of glasses from the kitchen, but the sounds felt like so much white noise while I focused on the moon.

Samsara. The word was whispered in my voice while I gazed upon Chang E and Kaguya's home. The perfect sphere and pockmarked surface of the moon seemed to illustrated the circle of life, aging, disease and then death. And then there were factors from the Endbringers down to the mundane like the car crash that ended the cycle prematurely.

Just like it was with my mother, and how it could have been anyone else like Dad or even myself. As my mind wandered like many times before, the tightening of my chest and the pain of loss loomed, but this time it was dulled like the wound had finally closed. The full moon spun, and I felt time and fate roll forward again.

My fingers twitched at a sudden warm breeze that blew on my right hand, and slowly I looked down at a chain of pearl white rosary beads that nestled between my thumb and index finger. Did Wukong put them there? Or was it something else. Yet I could not conjure up the nerves required I should have felt at the sudden intrusion into my room no matter how benign it was, yet I yawned secure in the security that watched over me just downstairs.

/x/

Danny stared at the ornate glass bottle inside the liquor cabinet, which contained a vintage whiskey he had promised Annette was for their twentieth anniversary. The insides of the wooden cabinet and the clear glass bottle had a layer of dust over them, the whiskey bottle being the only thing that was inside. The musty smell that greeted Danny once he unlocked the cabinet reminded him of how long it was since someone opened it, and Danny sneaked a glance behind his shoulder, almost expecting Annette going hammer and tongs with Monkey.

No such luck. Danny bit his lower lip and sucked in some air before he took out the bottle and slammed the cabinet shut. He ignored the small cloud of dust that was stirred up beneath the cabinet doors and walked towards the table where his guest and two shot glasses await.

"Monkey, I-"

"It's Wukong, Danny boy. You heard the entire conversation between myself and those of the Underworld."

Danny sucked in a gulp of air, before he went and pulled out an ice tray. Wukong stared at him silently, the clinging of ice cubes against the glasses deafening in the silence before Danny pulled up a seat and sat opposite him. Danny stared at Wukong as he filled both their glasses and he downed his shot in a gulp. Wukong giggled when Danny bent over in a coughing fit, but waited for his host and friend patiently to recover.

"Why?"

"Why what, Danny boy? Be saved by your daughter? Laugh as you choke on hard whiskey as you downed it like a chum despite not having drank for years? Have my clones leave my calling card right this very moment all over the buildings of a certain part of town?"

"Don't be glib, Wukong," Danny snapped. "I'm talking about Annette."

Wukong raised his right hand, pointed skyward with two fingers outstretched while he placed his left over his chest.

"I swear upon my Buddhahood and may this golden headband rip out my skull if I lie, I refrained from spraying the word Shrew all over your dead wife's tombstone out of respect for our friendship."

Danny was inches off his chair, before he sighed and sat down again. He took a small sip of a fresh glass of whiskey, while giving Wukong the dirty eye.

"Her death, Wukong. Why do you insist on this whole charade of tying Annette's death to Taylor and me? We were moving past, moving on?"

"Really?" Wukong reached behind Danny and plucked out a long strand of black, wavy hair. "Seems to be you're still carrying her around all the time, like how you'd carry Taylor when she's too tired to trek anymore."

Danny's chair clattered nosily against the wooden paneling of the kitchen floor as it tipped over when he leaped to his feet and turned around. Danny's face fell when he saw nothing but the living room behind him.

"That's low, Wukong."

"I didn't do anything, except make you see what's in your mind all the time all the time Danny boy."

Wukong hissed as he sipped the whiskey, while Danny pulled his chair back up, and slumped onto the table. He buried his face in his hands, before Danny slapped his cheeks and sat back into his chair.

"Fine, you win, Wukong." Danny shrugged his shoulders. "Annette's dead and no longer exist anywhere in any world, and I'll become a model father again after Taylor awakes in the morning. Satisfied?"

"Danny boy. Have you forgotten what I told you about karma, and how it's linked to the attitudes and actions of our daily life?"

"Are you implying Annette's-"

"Why would I do that about someone who's no longer around in every sense of the word, Danny boy?" Danny's voice and anger deflated at Wukong's nonchalance. "Think about yourself for a moment?"

"I caused her death?!"

"Only if you think all those ass-whuppings your old man gave you was caused by yourself, Danny boy. And you know how much I keep telling you that's not the case."

Man and monkey sat in silence, before Danny broke the silence.

"I have a confession to make."

"Okay," Wukong hissed satisfied as he drained his glass. "Let me set things up a bit."

Danny blinked, before he growled and pushed aside the sliding doors. He grabbed Wukong by the collar, and the crucifix that dangled off Wukong's neck swung in the breeze.

"Please do not hit the priest in the confessional box, my son."

"Zip it, Wukong. And your costume's more of a Puritan preacher from two centuries ago than modern Catholic priest anyway."

"Fine, be a bore," Wukong snapped his finger as the screen doors disappeared. "I'm keeping the costume though. He's like, the fifth guy after Painted Animal's tribe died off."

Danny rolled his eyes, but let Wukong go as he sat back down.

"Wukong? You once told me that karma can be passed down onto my kids."

"Nope. I said that your own karma can affect theirs since they are your kids and the spillover effects are gonna get them, but you basically answer for your own deeds."

"Well," Danny's hands clenched into a fist. "My father's karma certainly got to me. I threatened to hit Annette in the morning of the day she died, after we had another fight about you and Taylor."

"So you think between that and Annette texting you while driving, you drove her to her death? And you see shades of your father in your actions."

"Was I somehow responsible, Wukong," Danny's voice was barely a whisper. "Struggled with this my whole life, and when it leaked out Annette died the same day."

"While, Danny boy," Wukong said as he opened up the fridge and helped himself to a box of strawberries. "How many noes do you want? Because I'm going to give all of them to you."

"Wukong..."

"Karma isn't a vending machine, Danny boy. Insert sufficient good deeds and thoughts, instant blessing. It also comes in the force of greater karmic forces beyond your control and you get swept up in their circles. Like how my master built up her karmic destiny to become the one to save me by being born into your family, which ended up with you knowing me because your ancestors inherited the lands I was trapped in. It rolls down, and Taylor ended up having the fate, intent and drive to be the one to free me instead of you."

Danny stared at his glass, empty of whiskey but full of melting ice.

"Same goes for Annette. She clung to her view of reality, went hammer and tongs with me most of the damn time. And in the end died while typing angry messages to you.:

"She was going to leave me, Wukong."

"You sure?"

Wukong swiped at the air, and a cloud formed into a phone that the monkey began to type furiously on.

"Annette Hebert may be a shrew, an old chain and balls, and won't know fun if it bit her in the rump with a name tag spelling his name. But one thing she wasn't, was stupid."

"It was the first time things got so bad!"

"And she was still ready to help you work things out, Danny boy. Because she can spot problems a-brewing almost as accurately as I thought you were about to hit your wife. Annette saw Danny boy overcome the shadows cast by an oppressive parent in not doing so, and was ready to help you work it over."

Danny sat silently, and nursed a glass of melting ice while Wukong reached behind him again.

"Turn around, Danny boy."

"There's nothing there," Danny grumbled but still complied. He started and fell back onto his chair, at the scent of shampoo in his nose and the tickling of Annette's hair.

"My eyes can see the truths of the worlds. Danny boy. But they cannot tell me what you saw in your personal truth," Danny trembled in his seat. "What did you see?"

"Annette's shampoo, and the tickling by her hair when I leaned in for a goodbye kiss that morning of her death. We sent off each other that morning with a smile, and I was supposed to consult someone for anger-management sessions along with her."

Wukong dismissed the phone into a wisp of smoke, while Danny stared out into the living room couch where they cuddled after Taylor was put to bed. The monkey grinned, and placed his hand over Danny's shoulder.

"Wukong."

"Yeah?"

"What's the part about your clones leaving your calling card all over a certain part of town?"

The monkey shook with a shrieking laughter.

"Thought you'd never ask."

/x/

Lung's eyelids slowly peeled open as he felt the sun, and he gave himself a self-satisfied smirk and nod at the golden character that bore his name engraved on the roof of his room.

龍

Long- Dragon. A word that meant power, aggression and the inevitable victory that was his. The curves of the word were reminiscent of the elongated body of the dragon departing the foamy sea, while twin horns and whiskers that dealt out blessing and calamity to lesser beings adorned the top of the letter proudly.

The name of his disguise in contrast had no real meaning. For his father was barely literate and gave him the name Kenta while unsure how it's to be written.

Lung was a dragon, and inevitable in his wake. Kenta was a ghost of his past, and a mask like lesser capes would wear. Satisfied, he pushed the covers aside and slid out of his bed unhindered for he chose to sleep alone last night. As Lung sauntered over to his door, his ears perked at the waves of panicked speech he heard drift from the streets below. Lung frowned, as he picked up one word that kept being repeated in all the tongues spoken by the ABB. A word he had forbidden to be openly spoken and displayed in his presence except in English, for in it's original form it was a direct assault on the dragon.

Worm-虫. Chong.

Lung and anyone who was literate immediately saw a de-horned, defanged dragon in that loathsome word. A mighty serpent of the gods, reduced to wriggling in the mud. One particularly dense Vietnamese branch leader had breached that taboo, and after taking his right arm Lung had demanded tribute.

A tribute in the form of a rotating twenty feet dragon statute, shaped like the word itself. Placed on top of a building below his room, Lung would see his likeliness dominate the skyline of his domain the minute he pulled open the drapes. The gang leader felt his real form lurk beneath his skin as he went to the windows, and with a growl he pulled open the drapes.

Worm. Worms everywhere! The accursed 虫 character was painted in bright red paint all over the facades of every building within the Docks and the rest of ABB turf. Work crews brandished brushes and spray paint emptied their reserves of paint over the offending word, but as soon as the new coat covered the old paint it reappeared again. The glass of his windows shattered at his roar and the fireball he spat out into the sky, before he focused his attention at the dragon statue that was covered with a large brown sheet. As foreman yelled out instructions to their crew around the covered edifice, Lung pressed the speaker button on his phone and barked orders into it.

"Remove that sheet. Now."

Lung had not specified which sheet it was, and what it was covering. Nor was his speech particularly audible. But his underlings had long learned to decipher his words spoken in his true form, and the ones on his phone were the ones capable of second-guessing his intentions perfectly well. A foreman answered his phone, and his eyes went wide with fear as he saw Lung looking down. The commotion of the workers went silent as their foreman gave a single word order, and as soon as the canvas sheet rolled down the statute when the ropes that held it in place were removed all of the ABB workers ran.

Lung showed no interest in them, for his attention was fixed on the grave offense on display. A monkey with a cudgel, dressed in a golden chainmail and two pheasant tail feathers handing off a headdress he wore. The dragon that once rose towards the heavens in all it's grave majesty now kissed the earth while the simian stood on it's back. It's horns now hung off the belt of the monkey, while it's claws were torn off. As his anger grew, so did his hearing. Lung turned to his back, nostrils smoking and ready to burn the intruder to cinders when he heard the buzz of a fly's wings accompanied by the howl of a monkey.

But the room was empty, except for a mosquito that was just ambling above him and out of the windows. Lung's suspicions were aroused, and he walked over to his bed to look at the roof above it.

Then Lung saw the message, painted bright red in English over his carved letter. The roar was heard over at the Protectorate Rig, while the pillar of flame was seen by witnesses on Captain's Hill.

Wukong wuz here! Monkeys rulez, dragons droolz.