Author's note: Thanks so much, everyone, for your continuing support. I apologize for not updating last weekend, but current events—in national news and in my personal life—have been getting me down. I won't go into detail, but there are quite a few things I'm worried about, and many more things that have depressed me. I'm getting through it, one step at a time, but just so you know, real life events take precedence over writing, in many cases. To all my fans: Thank you. A review is usually just enough to make me smile, and it keeps me going. I can't say it enough: Thank you.
Memoirs of a Master
Chapter 23
Tigress, initially, was already regretting her offer to read this particular scroll. True, she expected Shifu to not be kind in his description of the Dragon Warrior, but she had never expected him to completely despise the panda. As abhorrent as his behavior—and his language—had been, Tigress had to admit…she hadn't behaved much better. Shifu had been right; she had completely despised the panda, and maybe—maybe—would have seriously injured him, just to be rid of him.
That anger now terrified her; she had never been so angry, but at the time she had put it as righteous indignation. Was she not perfectly reasonable in her distress and disappointment? It had gone without saying, and her friends had agreed, she was a shoe-in for the title…until Po showed up.
But it was the things she thought of him, the way she felt, hell, the things she said to him that made her cringe now.
You don't belong at the Jade Palace. You are a disgrace to kung fu, and if you have any respect for who we are, and what we do, you will be gone by morning.
She had slammed the door in his face immediately after she had said this, tried to discourage him. She was bitter, devastated, had seen the Dragon Scroll as the only means to earn Shifu's love and acceptance. Before reading these scrolls, she had thought he despised her, thought her a failure, and that the only way to get what she wanted was to give him what he wanted. And Po had taken that from her. At the time, she should have been appalled by her actions…and she most certainly was now.
Po had been strangely silent the whole time, ever since he showed up in Shifu's narrative. It didn't take a genius to see he was completely distraught by how little esteem their master had in him…but that had changed, somehow. So that meant something, right?
But Shifu's behavior, his words, and his feelings about the panda shocked her, and everyone else currently at that table. Mostly his language, but what shocked her most was that some, if not most, of his ire was concentrated by Po's…attention to her.
Tigress wasn't sure what surprised her more: the red panda's over-protectiveness…or the fact that Po, apparently, had always admired her…
I don't know how long I stood under the peach tree, weakly holding the staff in my hands. It could have been mere minutes, it could have been an hour. I was dazed, stunned, and heartbroken. I had wanted to hold out my hands to him, beg him to come back…but what would that have accomplished? Oogway had been over 1000 years old—a millennium—it would have been selfish of me to want him to stay.
But selfish I was. I didn't mind that he chose to ascend, but, I thought bitterly, Why now? Why, when we're facing the greatest threat ever faced—a threat I created—did you have to choose to die? Couldn't you have waited until after Tai Lung was defeated?
He had wanted me to believe. He wanted me to believe not just in myself, not just in the panda…he wanted me to believe in miracles.
I had suffered depression for too long; miracles, I thought, were fantasy. They simply didn't exist. Yet now, ironically, a miracle was exactly what I—what we—needed.
I left the promontory and made my way to the dormitory. My students would have retired to bed by now, but I did not find them there. Instead, I heard noise coming from the kitchen, the gentle hushed tones of the Five, and the Panda's louder, more obnoxious voice telling some sort of tale. I could hear him from outside the brightly lit kitchen window, boasting of how he (almost) told off the "scariest bandit in the Hajin province" for leaving a bad tip. Utterly ludicrous; everyone knows that people from that province are lousy tippers.
As I got closer, I heard something that…I had not heard for a long time. And the minute I heard it, it made my heart constrict.
It was laughter.
Lighthearted laughter, like the kind my friends and I had shared. As much as I yearned to once again be a part of something like that, I was also angry. Did they not know what danger they were in? I'm sure the Five knew…and they were acting like it wasn't a problem.
Perhaps I needed to teach them that lesson the hard way.
I rounded the corner and heard the laughter subside, and Mantis' voice saying my name. Immediately after, a chair scrapped against the floor, and I heard someone…mimicking me. My building anger was enflamed when I recognized the voice as belonging to the Panda.
"You will never be the Dragon Warrior…unless you lose five hundred pounds, and brush your teeth!"
…I did not talk like that.
No, seriously, I do not talk like that.
…Do I?
I rounded the corner and saw the panda on his knees, pointing a pair of chopsticks at my students like I had pointed my flute during training. They all—with the exception of Tigress, who looked like she wanted to reprimand them—were laughing at the panda's clowning around.
The fool playfully scolded my students, "What is that noise you're making? Laughter? I've never heard of it! Work hard, Panda, and someday," he grabbed two bowls from the table and held them up to his head, "you will have ears like mine!"
Monkey's and Mantis' laughs were the loudest by far, which made the silence that much more oppressive when they spotted me in the doorway…and promptly shut their traps.
"Ears!" the panda repeated. "Not workin' for ya? I thought they were pretty good."
"It's Shifu!" Monkey hissed in warning.
"Of course it's Shifu, whad'ya think I'm doin'?" he grinned.
Five pairs of eyes slid from him, to me, then back to him, and back to me. The panda got the nonverbal communication, looked over his shoulder…and jumped.
"Oh! Master Shifu!" The bowls came down from his ears and pressed against his chest—"moobs" I think Mantis called them, whatever that means—and the bowls stuck there in place. This earned more laughter from the table.
I saw the noodle dangling from his upper lip, hanging from his lip like my whiskers hung from mine…but he slurped it away as I began to berate all six of them.
"You think this is funny?!" I snapped. "Tai Lung has escaped from prison, and you are acting like children!"
"…What?" the panda asked, completely surprised.
"He is coming for the Dragon Scroll," I looked right at him, "And you are the only one who can stop him!"
…and as if on cue, the bowls fell from his chest and clattered to the floor. He recovered from his shock and embarrassment, and chuckled, "And here I am saying you don't have a sense of humor…"
He trailed off when I glared at him. I was as serious as a heart attack, and it was time for the fun and games to stop. Shock and awe overcame him.
"What, you're serious?! And I have to, uh…um…Master Oogway!" he proclaimed. "Master Oogway will stop him! He did it before, he'll do it again!"
"Oogway can not," I snapped, tapping the staff on the floor for emphasis. I sighed and looked at the staff in my hand, "…not anymore."
My students gasped in distress; but this wasn't the time for mourning. We needed to get things ready, to ready ourselves for battle.
"Our only hope…is the Dragon Warrior," I said quietly.
"The panda?" Tigress sneered.
"Yes the panda!" I glared back at her.
She stood abruptly, impatiently pleading for common sense's sake, "Master, please! Let us stop Tai Lung, this is what you trained us for!"
I wanted to give in to her request, I truly did…but my feelings as a father overruled my feelings as her master. I knew what Tai Lung was capable of, and if he still desired the scroll enough to kill for it…well, I was still angry enough at the panda that I had no problem seeing him fall, so long as my daughter was safe
I had lost my wife, my friends, and my son. I was not going to lose my daughter. So I refused,
"No! It is not your destiny to defeat Tai Lung! It is his!" I pointed my staff at the panda…
…or the spot he had occupied just a second before.
"…Where'd he go?"
Tigress pursed her lips, glancing up at Po, who sported an unreadable expression. The rest of the Five were prudently panda looked up at her when she paused.
She winced, thought how to say it, then finally opened her mouth:
"Po, listen…"
"Don't bother," he said sullenly. "I knew he didn't like me…but he hated me enough for me to be a sacrifice for the cause."
"We didn't know…I didn't know," she said quietly. "I mean, yes, we knew he didn't really like you…but something changed, didn't it?"
"I know its tough," Mantis said, landing on the panda's shoulder, "But try not to take it personally. I mean, he's probably just venting here. You know how people, when they hold stuff in, then let it all out at once, that they say things they didn't mean, and regret it later?"
"He seems heartless," Viper nodded, "But Tigress is right. He did eventually change his mind…"
"But when? And how?" Po glared at the floor.
Tigress sighed, truly feeling sorry for him. She was strangely touched that her master had refused her, not because of insubordination, but to protect her…but that didn't excuse him of his ill-treatment of the chosen Dragon Warrior. Keeping this in mind, she cleared her throat and continued. Immediately, she recognized this next scene; she had witnessed the entire thing, and now, could play it over in her mind one more time…
As it turned out, he had slipped past me—how, with his bulk and his weight, I have no clue. But within minutes he was bolting right for the exit, screaming in terror (considering the circumstances, and just what he would be up against…I can't say I blame him).
I gave chase, and landed right in front of him, immediately halting his flight at the top of the stairs leading to the Arena, and the gates. "You cannot leave!" I ordered, reminding him, "A real warrior never quits!"
"Watch me!" he challenged. He tried to get around me, to make it down the steps and get away from the fate that would ultimately be his undoing…and demise. But I wasn't about to quit. I used my master's staff and swung him back around, knocking him on his backside.
"Come on," he argued. "How am I supposed to beat Tai Lung? I can't even beat you to the stairs!"
"You will beat him because you are the Dragon Warrior!" I stated, prodding him in the stomach to emphasize my point.
"You don't believe that!" he accused me with a wince. "You never believed that! Ever since I got here, you've been trying to get rid of me!"
He tried to get around me again; I stopped his progress by knocking him off his feet.
"Yes, I was! But now I ask you to trust in your master as I have come to trust in mine!"
"You're not my master," he glared at me, "and I'm not the Dragon Warrior."
"Then why didn't you quit? You knew I was trying to get rid of you, but you stayed!"
"Yeah, I stayed," he said, picking himself up. "I stayed…because every time you threw a brick at my head, or told me I smelled, it hurt…but it could never hurt as much as just being me. I stayed, because I thought, if anyone could change me, could make me…not me, it was you, the greatest kung fu teacher in China!"
"But I can change you, and I will!"
He laughed, "Come on! Tai Lung is on his way right now, and even if it takes him a hundred years to get here, how can you change this…" he pointed at his body, "into the Dragon Warrior? Huh?"
He was right. It was, at best, a week's journey from Chorh-Gom. Tai Lung had a day's head start by now, and he didn't travel slowly.
But at that moment, the panda stopped being merely "Panda" to me…for the first time, I was seeing him as Po, Po Ping, the son of a humble noodle maker. I saw all the insecurity, the yearning to be something more than he was…and I recognized it.
"How?" he asked me.
Looking back at him for a moment, meeting his green eyes, and was floored by what I saw. I might as well have been looking in a mirror. His whole life he had second-guessed himself, doubted in his own abilities…just as I had. I still doubted myself, even into my seventh decade of life. He and I…we weren't so different at all.
"How?" he pleaded.
How indeed? I couldn't go to Master Oogway now. Years ago, when I had lost my wife, and my friends had left, I thought I had lost everything. I truly hadn't. I had Tai Lung for twenty years, then the Furious Five after him, and Master Oogway had always been there. Now, he wasn't. This time, I was truly alone…and I had no idea what to do.
"HOW?" he demanded.
"I DON'T KNOW!" I yelled back. I took a deep breath and stared at my feet. "…I don't know."
Crane smirked, "I knew it."
"Knew what?" Po asked.
"I knew he saw something in you, he had to. And it all makes sense now…" the bird looked at him. "The reason he started to get along with you…was because he saw himself in you. You're kindred spirits, and understand each other."
"That's not true," Po sighed. "I didn't understand him."
"Well," Tigress sighed, "We all do now."
I had left Po to his own devices. I needed time to think. I knew I wouldn't be able to meditate, no matter where I sat. I ended up going to the bunkhouse, hoping that maybe I could attempt to get some sleep. At the very least, perhaps something in my treasury of keepsakes would give me the answer I sought. But I was shocked to find the dormitory empty. At this time of night, the Furious Five would have already been abed, or preparing for the next day's training.
Their rooms were all empty.
At least Crane had the courtesy to leave a hurried note.
Master Shifu,
Tigress has left the Jade Palace. We're going after her. We'll try to buy you time.
Signed,
Mantis, Monkey, Viper, and Crane
PS: when we get back, please don't kill us.
I recognized the first postscript as Mantis' handwriting. I paid special attention to the language: when we get back. Not if. Bless him; bless all of them for holding onto hope in the darkest of nights. I could argue that Tigress was in big trouble for this, and I should have been angry…but how could I?
There was a second postscript, in Viper's hand—er, coil writing:
PPS: remember, you did teach us to act first and beg for mercy later.
So true. The final postscript was in Monkey's writing:
PPPS: Also, you never said where in the book it said we can't.
I had taught my students well. Perhaps I had taught them too well…or at least made them too much like me.
I had done the same exact thing. Tai Lung had done the same thing. Only this time, Tigress wasn't alone. And all five of them would be facing the greatest threat China had ever seen. I was more worried than angry. As a matter of fact, I was terrified of losing them. It hurt to think of my son as a murderer…but that was why he had been put away. He could—and probably would—kill them. And it pained me to think that the only way to defeat him was to kill him…and that Tigress would likely be the one to do it.
Now my soul was in greater turmoil than my mind. I could find no rest. I returned to the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom and sat on a rock overlooking the valley below. The branches above me were barren, dead, gone, like my master. I wanted to cry, but couldn't. What was the point? I was old, reached the end of my days; there were no more tears to cry.
I stayed up there until the sun rose. A red dawn, I remembered. Many years before, Jian Ren had told me a saying he'd heard from a naval officer friend at court: "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning, sailor takes warning". He explained that a red dawn was almost always a sure sign of an impending storm.
He had no idea how poignant that saying was to me now.
My ear ticked when it picked up a faint sound. A soft "hiya", from below in the palace, now bathed in the red-gold light of the rising sun. Was the panda still here? He had no reason to be—there was nothing either of us could do; he might as well save himself before Tai Lung arrived.
I sighed and got up, leaning my master's staff against the peach tree; I might as well tell the fat fool to leave, because, as much as I disliked him before, I truly didn't want him to die. I saw too much of myself in him. That spark of innocence and youthful vigor had long ago died in me; it just wasn't fair for it to die in him, while he was still too young.
I made my way to the training hall first and pushed open the doors. It was dark, still, and silent, the Seven Swinging Clubs completely immobile, the Field of Fiery Death cold, the Gauntlet of Wooden Warriors at rest.
I was confused; if he wasn't here, then just where the hell was he? I heard another "hiya" and looked over my shoulder. I could see movement in the dormitory…in the kitchen.
I made my way over, wondering just what in the world he was doing. As I padded my way closer to the kitchen I noticed the doors were hanging off their hinges.
What the…?
Po's excited and raucous shouts drew my attention, my curiosity piqued, and as I rounded the corner I saw the most astonishing thing.
He was practicing kung fu.
He was practicing it, as if he had been training for years. Those kicks were higher than I'm sure his body would have normally allowed. Backbends, three-step turns, hook kicks, uppercuts, straight punches, all executed flawlessly. But…how?
He stopped and turned sharply on his heel and slammed his fist through an inch-thick cabinet door…and pulled out a rice cracker. He stuffed it into his mouth, munching away contentedly, crumbs covering his lips and cheeks.
He noticed me and immediately ceased chewing with a guilty expression. I stared back at him in utter amazement, then scanned the kitchen. Kitchen cabinets were broken, some barely hanging by their rusted hinges. Baskets were overturned, hanging baskets overhead spilling their contents to the floor, and pottery was smashed…and all in his frantic pursuit of food.
He belched, forcing my attention back to him. He still stared, but then got defensive.
"What?" he challenged with a full mouth, wiping his lips with the back of his paw. "I eat when I'm upset, okay?"
I had a brain storm. The idea hit me so quickly, it nearly knocked me on my tail. I decided to test my theory.
"Oh, no need to explain. I just thought you might be Monkey. He hides his almond cookies on the top shelf."
I walked out, turning the corner…and hid myself against the wall, looking over my shoulder. I heard him gasp in delight, then gleefully rush to the far corner of the room. I rounded the corner just as I heard pots and pans clanking together and utensils hitting the floor…
He had done it. I had no idea how he did it, given his size, but in one day, he had gone from being an embarrassment and a disgrace to balancing himself in a full side split, wedging himself between adjacent beams in the corner…and ten feet off the ground. He had his hand inside a porcelain cookie jar where Monkey kept his secret stash of his favorite indulgence. Po took out cookie after cookie, munching away contentedly on three…four…five…six cookies in a row.
I stepped into the kitchen, and as I gazed at him in wonder, I started to connect the dots. He would not have been able to do this before. He ate when he was upset, but that wasn't all. No matter how much he loved kung fu, he needed more motivation. He needed a reason, a reward for good work. I had never rewarded my students like he was rewarding himself right now. In my younger years, maybe I would have given them a pat on the back, but the panda needed more than that. He needed something tangible to focus on. He needed encouragement.
He needed…food.
He spotted me again and immediately stopped chewing, caught red-handed. A couple crumbs clattered to the floor.
"Don't tell Monkey," he begged.
"That was you?!" Monkey snapped. "You're the one stealing my cookies?! I knew it!"
Po cringed and drew back. "It's Shifu's fault! He pointed it out!"
"It's your own fault," Tigress said sternly to Monkey. "You should have hidden them better…"
"But they're my cookies!" the primate whined.
"Oh get over it. Po's not the only one who knows where they are…" the tiger said, picking up the last cookie off the plate and taking a huge bite out of it. She gave the simian a smug look, crumbs on her whiskers. "And Po's not the only one who takes advantage of that."
"Look at you…" I gasped, staring up at him.
"Yeah, I know, I disgust you," he said painfully, dismissively, as he reached for another cookie.
"No, I mean…how did you get up there?" I asked.
He paused, thinking it over. Did he not know how he did it? Which meant…this was second nature. It had to be. He had done something extraordinary without even thinking about it. It was…extraordinary.
"I dunno," he said finally, popping the cookie into his mouth. "I'm just gettin' a cookie."
"And yet you are ten feet off the ground…and have done a perfect split!"
"What, this?" he shrugged. "This is just a…accident…" he managed to say just as the beams gave way under him and he came crashing to the floor. An almond cookie rolled on the floor towards me and I picked it up, staring at it.
This was the answer. He had asked me just hours before how I was going to get through to him…and I was holding it in my hand.
I smiled, "There are no accidents." This was what I needed to see. There was still a chance…a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless! I knew what I needed to do. Training him in the Jade Palace would have gotten us nowhere. We needed to get out, a change of scenery. And I knew just where to go.
Before we left, I had taken my master's staff to the Sacred Hall of Warriors. I left it on a stand directly below a painting of Master Oogway; it had been prepared a many years before, a gift from Master Snow Hare, before he had passed. The servants had already lit candles in remembrance, and this was where I found Zeng paying his respects.
The goose turned to me and sighed sorrowfully.
"This is my fault," he said.
"Oogway was old, very old," I explained.
"Not that," he shook. "My dad told me about the restraints that Tai Lung had been put in, how nothing larger than a quill would ever be able to open the lock…well, um, you see, I've been molting lately…"
I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose, then looked up at my master's portrait.
One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it.
I had brought this on myself. Zeng likely had molted a feather—I wouldn't have put it past Tai Lung to use it to pick the lock. It was as if Oogway had known how it would happen. Yet he had seemed surprised Tai Lung had actually escaped. Perhaps the future—and our individual destinies—truly were not set in stone. Perhaps…we decided our own future.
"No, Zeng, it was not your fault. Tai Lung is more astute than anyone ever gave him credit. I'm supposing Vachir never believed he could escape?"
Zeng pursed his beak closed, looking like he was debating whether to tell me something potentially damaging.
"Zeng, whatever you have to tell me, just say it now."
"Um…" he paused. "Well…you see…" he gulped. "I think Vachir may have…tortured him."
This didn't hit me as hard as it should have, yet I felt my throat constrict, as well as my heart. I knew Vachir could never forgive my student's actions, but it never occurred to me that he would go that far. "You witnessed the escape, didn't you? How violent was he? And is Vachir dead?"
"It was…it was very violent, yes," he said tentatively. "And as for the Commander, I don't know. I didn't stick around long enough to find out." After another pause he asked, "How soon will he be here?"
"A week, at the most. It's a long way from Chorh-Gom. You might be able to make it in a day, but you have the winds to your advantage." I paused, then laid my hand on his shoulder. "Do not blame yourself. You are a good and loyal person, just as your father was, and your grandfather, bless his soul. I should be furious, I know…but if this was meant to be, then so be it."
This didn't seem to console him. The looming threat was probably holding his attention. "H-how long will you be gone, sir?"
"Three, maybe four days, give or take. Keep the Palace on high alert, and send scouts to wait for him. If he arrives sooner than expected, before my return, raise the alarm and evacuate. Zeng…that is only as a last resort. Do you understand?"
He nodded.
"Good." I turned to leave. "Zeng, I wish you luck."
"You too, Master Shifu," he said with perfect solemnity. "You'll need it."
It was a long hike, and rough on my injured leg, but I had learned to live with the limp. That limp was the main reason I didn't travel much anymore, but in this case, I could ignore the injury—I would have to. We didn't leave the valley, but by the time we reached our destination in the mountains, the village and the Jade Palace was long out of sight.
I instructed Po to bring cooking utensils, enough food for a week, two bedrolls, two blankets, and the clothes we were wearing.
Our journey took us about ten miles or so, to Mount Wudan. I had not been there in years, and I was amazed how very little had changed. The last time I had been there, I had been with the Five for numerous training courses. Before the Five…well, Tai Lung had taken many trips with Master Oogway, but during Tai Lung's training, the only time I had been there was with Yeying.
Po huffed and puffed behind me, pausing every so often to adjust the pack on his shoulders. It was near noon when we finally arrived; it had been slow going, not just because of his level of fitness, but also my limp. But when we finally arrived, I let out a breath and settled myself down by a pool. I needed to find my center, calm myself…and catch my breath. When had I gotten so old that a ten-mile hike would have winded me so?
He collapsed on the ground next to me and crawled to the pool, panting, "You brought me up here…for a bath?" regardless of his fatigue, he bent down to take a drink and splash water over himself.
Control your temper, I told myself. He doesn't know. be gentle with this one.
"Panda," I sternly replied, "We do not wash our pits in the Pool of Sacred Tears."
"Wha…?" he shook water from his hand and lowered his arm guiltily. I stood and explained, "This is where Oogway unraveled the mystery of harmony and focus. This…is the birthplace of kung fu."
As soon as I spoke these words, the sun peeked out between the sugarloaf mountains, bathing the training fields in golden light. In this light, I could practically see Oogway demonstrating the craft, as he had done when my friends and I were still students; we had watched in awe as he performed such impressive feats, and it inspired us to be something more, to be something better.
And so help me, I would do the same for the panda. I leapt up onto a large boulder, making more of a show than was needed, but it got his undivided attention. When I landed, I pointed down at him,
"Do you want to learn kung fu?!"
"Yeah…" he said breathlessly.
I felt my chest swelling with pride as I proclaimed, "Then I am your master!"
"Okay!" he said, his voice breaking with emotion.
"Don't cry," I told him.
"Okay."
We had set camp, and now it was time for me to give him the formal—the real—introduction to kung fu, and also, lay out my lesson plan for his crash course. I had four days to train him to take on Tai Lung…
I had to be out of my mind.
He stood to attention, eagerly awaiting my speech. I cleared my throat,
"When you focus on kung fu," I started, "When you concentrate…" I paused, "…you suck."
He frowned.
"But perhaps that is my fault," I admitted. "I cannot train you the way I have trained the Five. Now, I see the way to get through to you…is with this." I pulled out a bowl of dumplings, a favorite treat of mine, and, I assumed, something he'd enjoy as well.
He grinned, "Great, 'cause I'm hungry!"
I chuckled, pulling the bowl out of his reach, "Good, when you are finished training, you may eat." I popped a dumpling into my mouth and made a show of chewing, just to get him riled up…though I couldn't deny having an exquisite pleasure at the taste. Chewing, I started to walk away.
"Let's begin, shall we?"
I started as I always had, with every student I have ever trained, with stretching and flexibility exercises. I taught him the basics of tai chi, the proper way to stretch for splits and straddles, to stretch his arms, shoulders, back, to make him as limber as possible. I know it take years to become very flexible, and as a panda, he was most certainly not naturally inclined to the same flexibility as a feline, or even some canines, but he did some things that surprised, and even delighted me. It took years to perfect…but he had three days at the most to prepare for fighting Tai Lung. Po needed all the help he could get.
I prompted him to do two hundred sit-ups with a bowl of crab wontons as a temptation…
"Two hundred?!" Tigress gasped. "You didn't actually do it, did you?"
Po looked guilty, "But…it was crab wontons…"
"You tortured yourself for crab wontons?" she asked him incredulously.
"Technically, Shifu was the one torturing me…"
"Still," she stared at him. "I love crab wontons too, but I'm not going to kill myself for them!"
"They were really, really good crab wontons," he pointed out as she rolled her eyes. "But it gets better…"
The first day, I took it easy on him:
I had him hang from a tree branch by his knees and do yet more sit ups…with dumplings urging him along (the tree branch couldn't support his weight, however. He bounced back surprisingly quickly from that fall).
In one exercise, I handed him a bowl, enticing him to eat. He threw away the chopsticks, instead opting to just dump the bowl's contents into his mouth. I wasn't going to make it that easy. I came at him with a bamboo staff, forcing him to protect the bowl at all costs. While I got a few hits in, he managed to block with his free arm and legs…but not fast enough for me to knock the bowl out of his hand. This was to teach him to expect anything, and be prepared for anything.
Near sunset, I played a simple game of Keep-Away with a dumpling, just as my brothers had done to me, with a ball, when we were children. It hadn't occurred to me until I was training Po that that cruel practice of older brothers torturing the younger was the key to my early agility, and my destiny.
At twilight, he did two hundred push-ups, whilst trying to eat straight from a bowl below his face…and a pile of hot, burning coals beneath his large belly. If he was going to do push-ups the right way, this was the only way to learn. He couldn't let his belly touch the ground—it's a well-known fact that push-ups are not as effective if one lowers oneself completely to the ground; it is not as easy, nor does it yield the best results. The coals may have been cruel, but honestly…I felt more sympathetic because he couldn't eat the stir-fried vegetables.
He went to bed hungry, tired, and sore, with bruises, cuts, burns (on his belly, mostly), and a twisted ankle. He was also quite sunburned; he was clearly a creature that didn't get out into the sun much, though I'm not one to talk. The end of that first day, I'm sure he wondered why on earth he ever wanted to be a kung fu master. I was wondering the same. What perplexed me most, however, was how I felt so guilty about going to bed full and content, whilst my rotund student's stomach growled long into the night.
"I thought you said it would get better?" Tigress eyed the panda.
"It does, just be patient…what?" he asked.
"You? You've got some nerve telling me to be patient!" she snapped, but there was a slight upward curl in her lip, betraying that she was actually teasing him.
"Ahem, Tigress…" Viper gently reminded.
"Alright, alright, I'm reading…"
The end of that first day of training, I sat up by the fire, unable to sleep. Wudan Mountain had always brought me some peace, having brought the Five there for their training. I could see the memories all around. That bamboo forest was where Monkey perfected his acrobatics, and Crane his deflective flights. That rock quarry was where Tigress first crushed a boulder with her bare fists. That lily pad pond was where Viper learned to step, er, slither lightly enough that no opponent could hear her. And Mantis perfected the Swallowtail technique over in that thicket…
The panda was sleeping—and snoring—not too far away. I truly had exhausted him, but so help me—and him—I was going to make the next few days very unwelcome for him. Perhaps I was being too harsh, as I had usually been, but that first day brought me a great many revelations.
The first: my first impressions of the panda were wrong, dead wrong. He may not have been a kung fu practitioner by way of smashing boulders or cracking boards, but his knowledge of its philosophy and the "excellence of self" mantra was more than just a novelty to him: he lived it, in a way that no one I knew had ever lived it, except for Oogway. I realized that my learning kung fu had nothing to do with making myself better for my own sake; I had always done it for someone else.
As I stared into the dying flames, I realized something else. Tai Lung had never learned kung fu for bettering himself; he learned it because he wanted to protect me, and eventually protect the valley. And Tigress…she did it because she was told to.
That was why none of my students had been named the Dragon Warrior. Not a single one of them had been in it for the "excellence of self". They had not learned kung fu purely for the sake of learning. They learned it because, for varying reasons, they had to.
The panda—Po—wanted to learn. He had never been a kung fu warrior before now, though he had wanted to be. But he thought he wasn't cut out for it. Even though, as the Dragon Warrior, he had this chance to live his dream, I still saw it in his eyes that he didn't truly believe he was the chosen one. But that was my fault. I didn't believe in him. He was my student, and I didn't believe in him.
It could never hurt as much as just being me. I stayed because I thought if anyone could change me, could make me not me, it was you.
Po was the only student I had ever had that wanted to learn kung fu to better himself, to become something more, to transcend what he had been born as.
For the first time since he came to the Jade Palace, I finally understood why Oogway had chosen him, and I realized how foolish I had been. The Dragon Warrior had to be humble, and to have no physical desires…I thought that meant abstaining from all "evils" of society and living a monk's life, but no. The panda had never desired the Dragon Scroll for himself. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time. His upbringing as a peasant—a noodle chef, at that—kept him humble.
None of my students had ever been truly humble. Tai Lung had believed he was better than he was. Tigress believed, I'm sure, that she deserved something more than what she was given. Po…didn't. He didn't think he deserved anything but to go back to make noodles for the rest of his simple life. Here he was living his dream, but still thought of it as just that: a dream. Though these incredible opportunities had fallen at his feet, he didn't seek to take up on the offers of honor and glory. All of it seemed above him, overwhelming his simplistic plebian philosophies; while I and all my students before him would have basked in the glory…he didn't want it. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain he was the Dragon Warrior.
Now, I just needed to prove it to him.
Day Two.
We rose before dawn. I ordered a breakfast of noodle soup (his specialty, and damn was it good). I filled three bowls, and the two of us climbed to the tops of great stone spires. At one time, I assume, a thousand years ago or more, they had once been a part of a major structure, whose import was lost to the ages. For us, it served as a place where Po balanced a bowl of scalding hot noodle soup atop his head, and held one apiece in his two palms. I instructed him to stretch and move, without spilling a single drop.
By lunch, we had gone back to our stealth exercises, and perfected that during throughout the day. Amazingly, he had gone from lumbering footsteps that could be heard a mile away to tiptoes so quiet, even I barely heard them. That didn't stop me from keeping him away from the soup. I came at him with my staff, oh, I can't remember how many times. Each time he tried, though, he got much better, and it got much harder for me to catch him.
We finished that day with katas. He, amazingly, perfected the beginner's forms, then begged me to teach him the intermediate levels, which he executed with some difficulty. Yet despite the difficulty, it was that spirit, that tenacity, that gave me hope as the second day came to a close.
Day three.
More stretching, more tai chi, more strength training. He had learned to do push-ups with just one finger in three days. After the morning, we resorted to sparring, which, honestly, was just me hitting him numerous times with my staff. But to my amazement, he not only blocked each strike, he even went above and beyond, even managing to strike back!
Too soon, and with few breaks, he was side-stepping, punching, kicking, blocking, trying to knock the staff from my grip…and flipping over my head! Just like I had done during almost every single fight I had ever been a part of, this giant panda now—by the grace of the gods—had near the same agility as I did!
It was unprecedented, it was marvelous, it was…I still can not find the words to convey it. Perhaps Oogway had a very good point to believe in miracles. It was something that one needs to see to believe.
And I was beginning to believe—for the first time in years—that miracles can, and do, happen.
By the fourth morning, I was surprised to find Po already awake and cooking. I had made the past three days an absolute hell for him. At least, I imagined they had been hell, because, frankly, I had to be out of my mind to even consider someone learning to do all the things he had learned in just three days. Tai Lung, when hit with a particularly challenging scroll, may have taken a few days to perfect it, but Po had learned all the basics—all the basics—in the same time frame.
And the panda's training was around the clock. I think the two of us only got 6 hours of sleep in three days, if that. I imagine, if Tigress ever knew just how bad the poor ursine bastard had it, she might not hate him anymore—I'm hoping she'd pity him.
But here we were, four days after we had arrived on Wudan Mountain, and I lay there, awake, gathering my thoughts. We had accomplished so much in so little time; I knew he was nowhere near Tai Lung's expertise, but the panda had something that Tai Lung didn't…yet I had no clue what it was. Yet.
The panda stirred the congee, adding a little more kindling to the cooking fire to heat it just so. I suspect he hoped to help himself to some food while I was still asleep, but my hearing picked up on his every move; aside from that, there was no way he could hide the delicious smell of congee cooking.
I cracked open one eye and watched as he glanced over at me, then quietly, slowly, picked up a bowl and started to serve himself. When he seemed certain I wasn't awake, he lifted his spoon and prepared to take a bite.
"I'll give you credit for trying," I said, shocking him. He groaned and handed me a bowl with a sigh.
"No eating until I've been trained, I know…"
I sat up and accepted the breakfast. His stomach growled loudly, and wincing, he placed his large paw over his paunch. "Sorry…"
"Quite alright." I paused long enough to consider, then I handed the bowl back to him. "Eat."
"But, I'm not supposed to…"
"Just three bites. You'll need something on your stomach. I put you through a lot the past few days, and you performed better than I expected you to. You deserve at least three bites."
He looked a little unsure, even suspicious, but took the bowl anyway. Lifting a spoon, he took three quick, large bites before handing it back to me. "Fast enough for ya?"
"Its tolerable." I started eating as he prepared the food that would be used for the training that day. Midway through breaking my fast, I cleared my throat and finally asked him, "Where did you learn to cook? Your mother, father?"
Po shook his head. "Learned from Dad; I don't remember my mom. We're noodle folk, y'know. Heh, kinda surprising, isn't it, a noodle chef being the Dragon Warrior?"
"Not as surprising as a rice farmer's son being one of the greatest kung fu masters in recent history."
That was the first time I ever revealed a part of my personal life to any student. I don't know if Po truly knew the significance of it, but he did seem to consider this with a lot of weight.
"Your family was rice farmers?" he asked quietly.
"Many years ago; water under a bridge," I said, not wanting to fully divulge everything. "I was the youngest of three sons."
"Pfft, lucky. I wish I had siblings…"
Me too, I thought sorrowfully.
"Do you miss them?" He must have guessed I was the only one still living—not surprising, since now most men were lucky to live past fifty or sixty.
"Yes. But enough about the past," I said, standing and brushing myself off. "Make dumplings, lots of them. I will go meditate while you cook…"
Later, about noon, we were sitting opposite each other, using a flat rock as a table. Po had set out three bowls of perfect dumplings, each as round as a full moon, stuffed with only the freshest ingredients. This would be a feast, but, I was not eating alone.
"After you, panda."
He looked astonished for a moment, then suspicious, "Wait, is that it? No push ups? No ten mile hike?"
"I have vowed to train you, and you have been trained. You are free to eat." I picked up my chopsticks and motioned to his bowl, inviting him to sit. He eyed me warily, as if on to my plan, but sat anyway, picking up his own chopsticks. He plucked up the first dumpling and paused, as if waiting for my attack.
I tried to keep the smirk off my face: "Enjoy."
He smiled, and opened his mouth.
I struck, grabbing the dumpling from his chopsticks with my own, and plopped into my mouth before he even realized I had moved. He narrowed his eyes at me.
"I said, you are free to eat; have a dumpling."
He reached for another; I stole it from him again. His glare darkened; clearly, if there was one thing that angered this panda, it was when someone came between him and a satisfying meal.
"I said, you are free to eat," I repeated through gritted teeth.
"Am I?!"
"ARE YOU?!"
He slammed his fist down onto the rock, jolting the bowl and sending it flying into the air. I jumped, grabbing dumpling after dumpling until there was only one left for us to fight for. He leapt high, intending to just grab the last dumpling with his mouth. I rushed past, grabbing it between my chopsticks. He landed with a thump, and I smirked down at him, tauntingly holding the dumpling between the chopsticks.
He jumped right back up, grabbing for the ball, which had fallen into one of the bowls. With our chopsticks, we fought for control, each trying to subdue the other with two thin sticks and our fingers. I wasn't going to make this easy for him; if he wanted that dumpling, he would have to earn it.
I turned the bowl over, disguising it amongst the other two, and juggled them around, hoping to throw him off of finding the bowl with the dumpling. He took the chance, letting out a joyful exultation when he won. I took the dumpling back, he smacked it out of my hand. It went flying off to the side; he kicked it up to grab it. I threw one of my chopsticks, skewering the dumpling and lodging it into a low-hanging tree branch.
He moved to get it. I jumped up, ran up his back and pushed myself off his head to get at it, but he grabbed my ankle between his chopsticks and threw me down to the ground. I recovered and saw the dumpling sliding down off the chopstick.
I moved, striking out with my free chopstick, he returning every diminutive blow with one of his own. Hit after hit, block after block, two pandas fighting for one gods-damned dumpling.
He swiped me out of the way as the dumpling finally slid off the stick, and opened his mouth wide to let it fall into his mouth.
I moved in, pushing against his chin to close his mouth, the dumpling bouncing off his nose and rolling down my arm. The panda smacked upwards on my arm, sending the dumpling flying again. I jumped, performed a quick roundhouse kick and sent it flying straight over his head. Eyes on his prize, he ran right after it.
I looked at the single chopstick in my hand and smirked, throwing it away and gave chase after the bear. Along the way, I picked up my staff, determined to make this last spar count for every ounce it was worth.
I followed, striking at him, smacking the dumpling out of his reach and yet each time I never actually got a hit in. He blocked every single blow, still hell bent on getting that dumpling. I flipped, twirling, turned, jumped and kicked, but despite my speed, agility, and years of experience, he managed to subdue me, knocking my staff out of my grip with a drop kick, and holding it down on the ground. Seeing the dumpling above his head, he made his move.
Flipping over my head, he bounced the dumpling off his belly, sending it higher than I could reach. He landed on his feet, raised his arm…and caught the dumpling in between his chopsticks.
We were breathless, panting with exertion, and exhaustion. But I hadn't felt so energized in years.
Po, looking quite proud of himself, looked back at me as he was about to pop the dumpling into his mouth. I straightened and nodded, bowing slightly to acknowledge that he had bested his master in a fair fight…and was now, truly, free to eat.
To my shock, something landed in my open hand. It was the dumpling. I stared at him, thinking he had lost his mind, or perhaps I had hit him too many times in the head.
But he just smiled and said, "I'm not hungry."
I smiled, chucking the still-warm dumpling over my shoulder.
He beamed back at me, placed his fist in his palm and bowed, "Master."
I smiled proudly, and returned the bow.
Somehow, in four days, I had managed to train him. Somehow, in under a week, I had taken the rotund, lazy son of a noodle maker, and molded him into the Dragon Warrior.
But we had little time to bask in this glory. We had been gone four days, and if the Five had already come back, victorious (as I vainly hoped), then it would be all for the better. Yet that single niggling doubting voice in my head told me not to have false hopes. In our absence, the Furious Five could have defeated Tai Lung…but at the same time, perhaps Tai Lung was already there.
Either way, it was time for us to get home.
Fine, I admit it, I was starting to like the panda. I could come up with many different reasons for it, though each one doesn't seem to truly sum up why I warmed up to him. I think the easiest, most rational answer I can give is that everything about him—his tenacity, drive, focus, and yearning to be something bigger, better, stronger than what he was—was exactly like me. The only difference was the panda's zest for life, something I had, apparently, never had.
Reading back over these memoirs, I notice that I never fully appreciated everything I had. Perhaps that is why I lost so much; the gods gave me so much, but I never appreciated it, so it was all taken away. In Po's case, he was grateful for everything that happened to him, good or bad, because he learned something from it.
I wish I had that spirit.
We returned near sundown, both of us tired, sore, but energized. I truly had not had that much fun in training since I was a child. I blame the panda…but not in a bad way. When we crossed the threshold to the training area, and to make our way to the dormitory, I decided now was as good a time as any to tell him how I felt:
"You have done well, panda."
Somehow, he seemed to know I didn't do this every day. He grinned hugely and said, "Done well? Done well? Heh, I've done awesome!"
In his excitable dance for joy at his own accomplishments, he had bumped me with his stomach, nearly knocking me off my feet. "Hmph, the true mark of a warrior is humility…" I said, echoing the lesson I learned many years ago from Master Jian Qiang. However, I continued… "…but yes, you have done," I struck out, punching him in the gut, as payback for being bounced off his stomach, "…awesome."
We shared a knowing smirk with each other; I felt fulfilled. Now, all I needed was to walk into the dormitory, find my students back, safe and sound. Oh, perhaps they'd have a scratch or two, now, because they would have fought—and likely defeated—Tai Lung, but they'd be very much alive. And Tigress, she would not only be alive, but eager to get back to training as if it were an ordinary day.
But that didn't happen.
Po and I heard heavy flapping wings, and labored breathing behind us and overhead. We turned and saw a strange shape in the dying light…and my heart fell.
It was the Furious Five.
"Guys!" Po exclaimed, dropping his pack and running over to them as Crane collapsed onto the ground, dropping the other four. He had somehow carried their battered bodies all the way from the Thread of Hope—a three-day journey on foot, less than a day's journey by air—and was now gasping for breath. Po hurried between the four still figures, and as he panicked, I felt horror spreading like ice through my veins.
"They're dead!" Po cried.
No…NO!
"Wait, they're still breathing! Are they asleep? No, their eyes are open…"
I let out a breath, Oh thank the gods, they're still alive! I knew exactly what had happened, though, before Crane even said it.
"We were no match…for his nerve attack," he gasped, clutching his wing.
"He has gotten stronger," I mused to myself, moving around to each of the nerve-stricken students to release them from their locked positions. I released Mantis first, who looked better than the others certainly did.
"Tai Lung…stronger?!" Po couldn't believe it.
When I released Monkey, the simian had apparently been prepared to deliver a punch before his opponent immobilized him…which meant Po got the punch instead. "He's too fast! Oh…sorry, Po."
Freeing Tigress from the nerve bind was the hardest by far; it wasn't physically demanding, of course, but getting up close and seeing what Tai Lung had done to her…it made my blood boil. When her body relaxed, she sucked in a breath, and winced, clutching her side. She wouldn't look me in the eye—probably ashamed she had lost—when she said softly, "We thought we could stop him."
"He could have killed you!" I sternly told her, moving to release Viper. Tigress had almost died and she was more worried about disappointing me than losing her own life?!
…I really need to have that talk with her, don't I?
"Why didn't he?" Mantis asked.
"So you could come back here to instill fear into our hearts, but it won't work!" I snapped…perhaps being a little too rough on Viper as I relieved the pressure points. She didn't seem to mind, or, if I did hurt her, it probably was a pinprick compared to what damage Tai Lung had done during the battle. I clearly saw the black and purple bruises around her neck from where his hand had undoubtedly wrapped itself around.
Po bit his lip, "Well…it might…a little, I mean…I'm pretty scared."
"You can defeat him, Panda." Just believe…just believe you can. Did we not just get back from training you in kung fu? Do you not know how natural you are at it? You can do it!
"Are you kidding?!" he scoffed, pointing at the Five. "If they can't…they're five masters! I'm just one me!"
No. Not now, not ever. He and I had busted our asses to get to this point, and I was not going to let any amount of self-doubt tear him down and take him away from what he had accomplished. Tai Lung was still on his way, probably had a damn good head start after debilitating the Five, and we needed the Dragon Warrior. We needed him, now.
I looked the panda in the eye and stated succinctly, and firmly, "But you will have the one thing no one else does."
…I think I know why no one else has attempted to write about the dumpling scene before now. Writing that is killer. God, I need something chocolatey…oh, wait… *checks calendar* Oh, cool! Thank you, Jesus, for having a birthday we celebrate with eggs and chocolate bunnies! So, yeah…I guess this is an Easter gift? If you don't celebrate Easter, well…I updated. That's a good enough gift for every day, right?
Anywho, enjoy, and please read and review!