I was running down the tree-lined pedestrian mall of Monument Avenue in Richmond, Virginia when a summer thunderstorm came up. The rain came down heavy, people ran to nearby buildings, and lightning scampered across the jetty sky, its thunder like the report of a cannon. Before I had a chance to get off the mall and seek shelter, I became the unintended victim of mother nature's pruning when the wind ripped a massive dead branch from its tree and sent it flying onto my head, rendering me unconscious.
I was about fifty feet from Robert E. Lee's equestrian statue, laying in the mall's mud and my own blood when this effigy of the south's delusional notions of gentlemanliness came to life. Horse and rider jumped off the pedestal where they had been stationary since 1890 and cantered over to me. A statue is coming to my aid. How ridiculous, I thought as I watched them approach. The general leaned over, and I could see his bronze face with its sad eyes. In a voice that came from a different world, he said.
"Boy, a pestilence is about to sweep across this land. You must find a Fangxiangshi mask and use it to chase away the demons who will spread this disease. "
"What is a Fangxiangshi?" I asked, engaging in the absurdity of talking to a hallucination.
" Fangxiangshi are exorcists who cast out the demons that bring on sickness. "
He straightened up in the bronze saddle and rode back to the pedestal. Within seconds he and his mount were the silent statues they had always been.
The pain in my head was excruciating. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I could feel I was moving. Two paramedics had me on a gurney, moving towards their ambulance. One of them looked down at my face and, seeing my eyes open, said:
"Hi there. Do you know your name?"
"I am Caleb McCormick," I responded.
"And how old are you, Caleb?"
"Seventeen, I'll be eighteen in…." I could not remember the current month. The paramedic waited a few seconds in silence and responded.
"It's OK, Caleb. Lots of folks have some short-term memory loss with a concussion. We are taking you to the hospital so that the docs can check you out."
The hospital kept me for observation. The next day after undergoing some tests, I was lying in a hospital bed wondering when I would be able to go home when a cute blonde came into my room wearing a red and white striped pinafore and pushing a cart full of books and magazines.
"Would you like something to read?" she asked, smiling ever so brightly.
I perused her collection of magazines while saying things I hoped would keep her in my room a little longer. I asked her where she went to school. She told me and added,
"I'll be a senior next year. I am doing this for the community service colleges expect from their applicants. My name is Sandy, by the way."
A silence followed when I saw the front of a magazine from an art museum in Washington DC. A fierce face, bright red with four yellow eyes and fangs coming up from the mouth's bottom occupied the periodical's glossy cover. Under it were the words Fangxiangshi Mask.
Sandy must have been getting impatient with me because I could detect irritation in her voice.
"Well, I have to get to other patients, so if you don't…."
"I'll take that one," I interrupted, pointing to the museum magazine.
"Oh, you like art!" she said with some excitement as she handed me the periodical. "I am thinking of majoring in Art History when I go to college."
I had no intention of going to college and no interest in art, but since revealing this could damage my prospects with her and explaining my reason for asking for the museum magazine would be even worse, I said.
"I'm just curious about these Chinese masks."
"Well, you enjoy the magazine. I'll be by later to pick it up."
"I'll look forward to that," I said with a grin.
She smiled back and gave me a flirtatious little wave as she went through the door.
The magazine explained that the museum had a collection of masks from some Chinese religious show that started before Confucius. According to legend, the actors in these rituals transformed into gods and spirits whenever they put on the masks. Fangxiangshi, the god who banished the demons, who spread illness, used his scary mask to frighten away these demons. The four eyes allowed Fangxiangshi to look in all directions for these devils.
I let the magazine fall onto my lap and stared at the white ceiling of my hospital room. How did a concussion-induced vision involving an animated statue and Fangxiangshi mask come from a mind that never before knew of such a thing? And if it was Robert E. Lee talking to me from the world of the dead, how did he know about this obscure ancient Chinese tradition. He never had anything remotely to do with that Asian country. I decided the least I could do was drive up to DC and check out this antiquated theatrical device.
The doctor came into the room.
"How are you feeling, Caleb?" she asked.
"I feel fine," I replied. I did not tell her about the hallucination of Robert E. Lee. If I did, she probably would transport me to Eastern State Mental Hospital. " I finally remembered my birthday, so my memory is coming back."
"Good, well, your tests were all normal, so you should be able to go home this afternoon. Take it easy for a couple of days, and then you can resume your normal activities." She stood to leave and patted me on the shoulder.
"But no more running in thunderstorms, OK?"
I nodded and smiled. As soon as the doctor left the room, I called my parents with the good news.
As I was preparing to leave, Sandy appeared in the doorway.
"Hi, I need to get that magazine back before you go."
"Oh sure," I replied and walked over to her with the periodical in hand. I tapped on it as I handed it to her. "I'm planning to go up to DC. to see these masks. Would you like to come along?"
"I think that would be fun," Sandy replied.
A week later, after experiencing no remnant symptoms of the concussion, I pulled up in front of Sandy's house. I still had a bandage over the gash the branch inflicted on my head, but I figured that gave my appearance panache.
Of course, I had to go in the modest single-story brick rancher and meet her parents, who wanted to be sure they at least met the guy their daughter would be with all day. They were kind enough not to put me on the spot with a bunch of questions. Perhaps that could see in my demeanor how enchanted I was with their daughter.
Traffic was heavy on Interstate 95, and the ride to DC took longer than usual. Something like that usually would create angst within me, but this time it did not. I was enjoying the time with my candy striper date.
"Where were you when you had your accident?" Sandy asked some thirty minutes into the ride. When I told her, she responded.
"The Robert E. Lee statue on Monument Avenue is one they are talking about taking down. I have mixed feelings about that. I mean, I get the part about confederates supporting slavery and all, but the man was an American military genius, and we should recognize him for that."
I had not given the statue issue much thought and figured since state law prohibited removing war memorials that taking down Monument Avenue statues was all just talk. I looked at Sandy and wondered what she would think if I told her I had a brief conversation with one of those bronze pieces.
Sandy turned on my car radio and moved through the channels, searching for some music. At one point, I heard the word pestilence and asked her to keep the radio on that channel.
"Now we hear from China that they have a new disease like that Swine Flu that killed about two hundred and eighty-four thousand people as it spread across God's beautiful planet earth back in 2009. That's right, folks; those godless communists are going to feel the wrath of the lord for their evil ways. Back then, only seven hundred and forty Chinese died. God was sending them a warning, and they did not heed it. Now pestilence is back with a vengeance, and the book of Romans tells us such vengeance is the lords."
"I didn't know you are religious," Sandy said, revealing nothing judgmental in her voice.
"I'm not. It was that word 'pestilence' that caught my attention. That means like a plague, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, the term we use today is pandemic."
The radio preacher droned on, and I asked her to find some music. I could tell she was glad to comply.
"So, these pandemics happen in other countries, right?"
"Oh, they are global," Sandy replied. "We had a big one in 1918 called the Spanish Flu. Millions of people died from it. I have seen some old pictures of people out in public wearing face masks, you know, like the ones surgeons wear."
She was about to say something more when she coughed a dry hacking cough. That cough was followed by two more.
"Are you OK?" I asked.
She nodded her head as she pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack.
"My throat is dry and a bit scratchy. Don't worry. I'll be fine."
When we finally arrived in DC, I parked the car in a parking lot at the Ronald Reagan Airport, and we took the subway to the museum, a short walk from a Metro stop.
The museum room that housed the mask exhibition was spacious with two wide openings; only one had an exit sign above. Masks from all over China covered the walls, and the one I wanted to see was on the wall opposite the exit. I walked over and stood in front of it for a long time. An odd feeling came over me as I stood looking into the macabre red face with its four eyes and fangs. It was like déjà vu, but not quite. More a feeling of kinship like some force of predestination brought us together.
I do not know how long I stood gazing at the mask, but when I turned around to tell Sandy how the mask made me feel, she was not near me. I looked around and saw her sitting on a bench in the center of the room. Her head was down like she was looking at something on the floor. I walked over to her, and when my shoes came into her view, without looking up, she said:
"I don't feel well, Caleb. I think I am coming down with something."
"Let's get you home," I said and reached down to help her stand. Her skin felt warmer than it should, and I had to put one arm around her to help her keep her balance. We struggled together down the many front steps of the museum and proceeded on the walkway.
Sandy suddenly became very heavy. I grabbed her with my other hand to prevent her from falling. Her head tilted upward, and I could see her face was deathly white. Her eyes rolled back into her head. I laid her down gently in the grass that lined the walkway and checked her breathing. There was none.
Somehow, I was able not to panic. Training from my days as a Boy Scout kicked in, and I tilted her head back, opened her mouth, and while I pinched her nose with one hand and held her tongue with the other, I began mouth to mouth resuscitation.
A security guard stationed at the museum entrance saw what was going on and ran in my direction.
"I have called the rescue squad," he said as he stood over us. "I am trained, so if you need me to relieve you, let me know."
I acknowledged his offer with a nod and kept on blowing air into Sandy's lungs. I was beginning to get that light-headed feeling one gets from blowing up too many balloons at once and was about to take the guard up on his offer when I heard the siren of the approaching ambulance. I decided to continue until the paramedics took over. It felt like an eternity passed before they did, and while they applied a portable respirator to Sandy and checked her vital signs, I fell backward onto the grass and took several deep breaths.
About twenty minutes after they arrived, the EMTs were ready to transport Sandy to a hospital. Since I was not family, I could not ride with her, but they gave me the hospital's name before leaving. The security guard patted me on the back and resumed his post at the entrance to the museum.
I returned to the floor where the Chinese masks were on display and walked around the hallways until I found a fire alarm and a set of stairs intended for employees. I pulled the fire alarm lever, and the museum became a scene of flashing yellow lights, weird alarm noses, and anxious people.
The guards in the display room did what I expected; they moved people out through the door with the exit sign towards the front entrance. I charged in from the other direction and lifted the Fangxiangshi Mask from its wall hooks. It was heavier than I thought, and holding it with both hands I charged out the way I came in and ran as fast as I could to the service stairwell. I took the stairs two at a time fighting to keep my balance as I held onto the mask.
When I reached the museum basement, I opened the door with my elbow and found a loading ramp. Its door electronically opened when I hit a large red button on the wall. As soon as the door was up high enough, I went through it out into an alley. There was no one around.
I turned right and made my way to the street, then ran behind the museum. Fortunately, a cab pulled around the corner just in time. Pressing the mask against my body, I waved the taxi down with my free hand and climbed into the back of the vehicle when it stopped.
The driver knew how to get to Sandy's hospital. I leaned back in the seat to rest and catch my breath.
"That's quite a mask you got there," the driver said as we waited at a stoplight.
"Yeah, got it in the museum gift shop. I figure it will make a great Halloween decoration."
"Oh yeah," he replied. "I hear that's a real nice museum. I promised the wife I would take her there someday."
At the hospital, the mask got lots of stares as I went about looking for Sandy. She was out of the emergency room and in an intensive care room. I found it, and when none of the nurses were watching, I went in.
Sandy looked peaceful, asleep, or unconscientious; I could not tell. There were a couple of IV lines running into her arms and an oxygen tube in her nose. I put the mask on, pulling the headband over my scalp and slipping the body straps over my shoulders. Instantly a mysterious and powerful force ran through me, and I had more energy than imagined possible. My body began a dance I had never done before, and I began to call out bizarre gibberish incantations.
A nurse with short black hair ran into the room.
"What are you doing?" she shouted. "This is a very sick girl! Get out of here!"
I kept dancing, so the nurse decided to remove me physically by pushing me towards the door. As soon as she touched me, an electric shock sent her flying across the room. She landed on the floor, her hair standing on end like iron filings attracted to a magnet. She scrambled to her feet and screamed as she ran out of the room.
"I am going to get security!"
Meanwhile, I continued to dance and chant. Then Sandy's eyes opened, and she looked around the room, assessing where she was. She saw me dancing with the Fangxiangshi mask and knew it was me.
"Caleb!" she said as a smile spread across her face. "How did you get the mask?"
So happy was I to hear her voice that I wanted to take off the mask and rush to her side. But the power inside me signaled that all demons that had inflicted Sandy with illness were not gone. I kept dancing but raised my arms up over my head and gave her two thumbs up. Sandy laughed and clapped her hands. Through small eyeholes in the mask, I could see the color returning to her face.
That was when two security guards showed up and tried to haul me away. As soon as they touched me, they suffered the same experience as did the nurse. But I felt the power weakening. I had vanquished the last of the demons, so I decided to leave. I ran down the hallway and, skipping the elevator I had used earlier, located a stairwell, and made good my escape. As I scrambled down the stairs, I undid the straps and took the mask off.
When I emerged from the hospital, I was on a sidewalk void of people and stores, surrounded by grey walls, one of which was the edifice from which I had just departed. The summer sun had dropped below the horizon, and its twilight created an eerie ambiance that mixed with the residuum of the vaporizing power, made my mind wander into strange places while my legs wandered in search of a taxi or a metro station.
The mask morphed me from a teenage boy into a god. Now I was back to being a teenage boy, but I no longer felt I was me. What am I now? As a god, I used the mask to save Sandy, but how could I use it to prevent a pandemic? And why was the confederate general the messenger about both the mask and the disease?
Perhaps more of the power was still in me than just residue because something inside provided answers. There are two worlds beyond ours, and they are not heaven and hell. They are in that Taijitu symbol. They are the worlds of yin and yang, one world of darkness the other of light. The dead go to one or the other, not because they are good or bad, but because of the nature of their decisions made while alive. Supporting slavery was a dark decision. The general was in the world of yin. Spirits from either world can occupy graven images of themselves whenever they want. My hit on the head opened a portal to my soul, and the general's soul in the statue could reach me.
I turned a corner and saw a Metro sign, its light already on in preparation for the encroaching darkness. This discovery came just in time, for as I descended the stairway to the platforms, I could hear the siren, not of an ambulance but of a police car summoned by the hospital that reported a madman on the loose with a big red mask. I bought a ticket to the airport, and a few minutes later, the train I needed arrived. As it pulled out of the station, I saw through a window, two policemen come down the stairs and scan the platform. I moved the mask behind my legs.
As the subway dove into its tunnel, darkness made the window across from me into a provisional mirror. I saw my reflection. It was scary. My hair, longer and lighter than the nurses, stood straight out from my scalp, looking like a child's drawing of a sun with multiple rays or a comic strip character with his fingers in a wall socket. My eyes were wider than usual and bulging like Marty Feldman. I looked at the other passengers, and several immediately turned away from me, indicating that I caught them staring and my bizarre countenance. I had the appearance of a madman.
When I transferred to the line that would take me to my car, people waiting for the same subway moved away from me as I walked onto the platform. I tried to smile but must have created a grotesque facial expression because they did not react with any sense of reassurance. When the train arrived, no one followed me into the coach I chose, and those who were already there squirmed with discomfort when they saw me.
With the mask off, the power continued to drain out of me. I could see through the reflecting glass as we sped through another dark tunnel that my hair and eyes were slowly beginning to return to normal. Lassitude followed, and I closed my bugged eyes to sleep.
I awoke when subconsciously, I realized the subway was not moving. Immediately I assumed the police had found me, forced the train to stop, and were boarding to take me into custody for stealing a Chinese artifact from a museum. How could I convince them that what I was doing was necessary to save people's lives?
I began to compose a speech in my head to describe my righteous intentions when I looked out the window and realized we were at Ronald Reagan airport. The subway stopped because we were at the end of the line. This was the break before it started going back the other way. I grabbed the mask and went out into the night, searching for my car. I pulled out my car keys and began sending the call signals to which the vehicle responded from a lot other than the one I was standing in, still confused from the day's events.
With the mask locked in my car's trunk, I pulled out of the parking lot and followed the signs that would get me on Interstate 95 South. The traffic was moderate for Washington, DC, and I was able to make good time. I turned on the radio and pressed the search button to find some fast-paced music to help me stay awake. The first station the radio found had the news on, and I reached for the search button again but put my hand back on the steering wheel when I heard what the anchor-woman was saying.
"The Center for Disease Control reported today that the mysterious virus causing outbreaks of pneumonia in China has been identified as a variation of the SARs H1N1 virus that caused a pandemic in 2009. That disease took the lives of about twelve thousand five hundred Americans in a little over a year and a half. No cases of this new virus have been reported in the United States; however, the World Health Organization warns that given the speed with which people now travel around the world, it is very likely this virus will spread."
I hit the search button again. Another station was talking about the new virus
I hit the search button again and found the music I needed. As I settled back in my seat, I pondered what I had heard. The Confederate general who reached out to me from the world of yin was talking about that very disease. What he and the bible-thumping preacher on the radio call pestilence was a new pandemic about to explode on the world. This development and my refusal to let Sandy die justified my behavior.
Somehow, I knew what to do in that hospital room, where I chased away demons afflicting one person. How would I chase away demons threatening to infect the whole country? How many of these rascals would there be? How long would I have to dance? The only way I would find answers was to return with the mask to the statue of Robert Lee. Sandy was right. The man was a military marvel, but he was no god. I should know. I was one whenever I put on the mask. Being a military marvel does not make the god cut. Still, he was resourceful in death to find me and make the mask part of my destiny. Now I hoped his spirit was still inside that bronze icon to guide me on the next step.
It was past midnight when I pulled into the driveway of my home. I looked in my rear-view mirror and saw that my hair and eyes were back to normal. Fortunately, my parents were already asleep. Exhausted, I crawled into bed and soon fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, a Fangxiangshi wearing the mask danced around what looked like a science lab bashing equipment with his triple pointed spear.
My mother woke me up and, after chastising me for coming home so late and not calling, asked me what I wanted for breakfast. Knowing how a teenage girl's mere existence can turn an adolescent boy into an idiot, my father went off to work, content that I had made it home safely. I ate a big breakfast, and my mother, astonished at my appetite, stayed quite busy in the kitchen trying to keep up.
After breakfast, I returned to my injury site. I arrived to find a large crowd gathered on the mall and the grassy circle surrounding the Robert E. Lee effigy. Holding the mask with both hands, I pushed my way through the crowd. People had signs and cans of spray paint, and almost all had their phones out, taking pictures and videos. When I reached the focus of Lee Circle, I found the pedestal empty and covered with graffiti.
"Where is the statue?" I asked a woman standing next to me.
"The city just now took it down. And good riddance. Enough of this worshiping of slaveholders."
"But that's illegal!" I said, almost shouting. "State law prohibits removing memorials."
"Where have you been, fella? The legislature repealed that law days ago."
Squad cars with sirens blaring swarmed in, and the mob began to make belligerent sounds. But the police emerging from the vehicles were not in riot gear and were not there to break up the crowd. They were after me and when they spotted me with the mask, came towards me from two directions. I turned and ran back towards my car, and as I did, I tried to put the mask over my face. It slid down too far, and the eyeholes did not line up with my eyes. Four eyes on the mask, but I was running blind. I pulled the purloined mask off my face and ran straight into two police officers who liberated me from the Fangxiangshi mask and put me in handcuffs.
As I had no record, the juvenile and domestic relations judge gave me a suspended sentence with several hours of community service. I happily began to work them off in the hospital where Sandy distributed magazines. We would be there when the place filled up with the miserably sick as the pandemic swept across the country.
The mask hung on the wall in the museum, and like too many masks in the pandemic, remained unused.