PodCastle 861: A Most Lovely Song
* Author : Albert Chu * Narrator : Curtis C. Chen * Host : Matt Dovey * Audio Producer : Devin Martin PodCastle 861: A Most Lovely Song is a PodCastle original. Content warnings for war, parental death, assault, a racial slur, and references to torture, genocide, and terrorism. Rated PG-13 A Most Lovely Song by Albert Chu It’s 1939, and the drone of piston engines fills the sky over Chungking. The G3M bombers are right overhead, close enough for people to see the red hinomaru emblazoned beneath their wings. They release their bombs, one by one, and the explosions rattle the earth, and they flatten the buildings, and in their wake, they leave behind the dead. Now, a boy cries, “Baba! Baba!” He’s crouched by a pile of rubble, trying in vain to pull a lifeless arm out from under it. Nobody’s around; only the shattered buildings witness his struggle. He doesn’t notice the straggling G3M until its shadow passes over him. As he looks up in alarm, he hears the whistle of the falling bomb. He’s stuck staring, frozen, at the sky. But this time, there’s no explosion. There’s a flash of light — a rush of air — and then, the opening trill of a song. The melody is like clockwork, intricately choreographed and precisely engineered. The notes fly up and down, astounding the boy. In a flash of copper plumage, a bird sweeps out of the sky. It dashes past his right ear and cries, “How sad!” It comes around in a tight circle, darts past his left ear, and cries again, “How sad, how sad!” Finally, it alights on a piece of rubble by his foot. It cocks its head, and the sun catches the white markings that ring each eye. “What’s your name?” it asks. He takes a while to answer. Finally, he says, “Teng Ch‘eng-nan.” “What are you doing here, Little Teng? It’s dangerous.” “Baba.” Ch‘eng-nan looks down. “He’s dead.” “Yes, and how sad that is! But if you stay here with your father, you will surely join him. Come, let’s go!” His eyes linger on the pile and the arm beneath it. Then, after a second, he stands and follows the bird, which is flying away. Shattered glass and splintered wood litter the street; Ch‘eng-nan is careful to pick his way over these dangers. As the bird flies above and ahead, he calls out, “What are you?” The wind carries the bird’s sing-song reply: “A friend! From high above, I saw the plight of the Chinese people, and I flew down to help, Little Teng.” “You came to help?” “Of course! I’m leading you to safety right now, aren’t I?” Ch‘eng-nan doesn’t actually know where they’re going — he can’t recognize Chungking anymore. The sky is an alien swirl of black smoke, and the rubble forms a dizzying maze. He can’t find his own way home, let alone the path to a bomb shelter. So he has to follow the bird. It’s bouncing up and down in the sky. “This war is such a shame. How destructive! Do you know why this fighting is happening?” Ch‘eng-nan doesn’t say anything. He’s only ten years old, and while he knows that China is at war, he’s never seen a Japanese soldier in his life. He’s trying to grasp a newly discovered truth — that this invading army can reach out, unseen as ghosts, and snatch his father’s life away. That even Chungking, nestled deep within China’s interior, is not safe. How can he say why this is happening? The bird twirls around and, with a flutter of its wings, lands on his shoulder. He flinches, but he doesn’t shoo it away. “How sad,” it says into his ear.
