It took three mornings of crowing before Old Skinny finally realised that he had been fooled by a very clever rooster. Furious, he swore he would get even with that bloody cockerel, no matter what it cost. He began to plan what he was going to do ....
The sun had set and the hens in the temple backyard had gone to sleep. The rooster was sitting on top of the roof of the coop, enjoying the light breeze before turning in. As darkness descended, a figure stealthily approached the backyard, jumped over the fence and crept up behind the coop. Before the rooster knew what was happening, he had thrown a sack over the bird and sped away with it. He made his way to the river and gloating with triumph, threw the sack on the ground, stomped on it and hacked it 101 times with his cleaver. Feathers and blood flew into the air and soon the ground was a dirty bloodstained mess. Grinning and laughing to himself, he then left the scene of the crime, satisfied that he had at last got his revenge.
"Da! Da! There has been a murder down by the river!" he yelled, panting hard.
We were shocked. There had never been such horrific incidents there before. We all decided to follow Ning to the river.
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Head Nun looking at the mangled carcass. "I thought somebody had been killed but it looks like ... like a rooster ..." Her voice trailed away.
"Oh no...!" shrieked the nuns. "It's Bruce Lee! It must be! He went missing last night!"
The carcass was too messed up for positive identification but its feathers were the same colours as Bruce Lee's. We came to the conclusion that the unfortunate victim was indeed Bruce Lee.
"Who could have done this terrible thing?" I gasped, not daring to look any closer. A few nuns started to sob and wring their hands in despair.
Finally Head Nun spoke in a quivering voice. "Whoever did this will pay for his crime. Now we've got to give the poor bird a proper burial."
A couple of nuns went back to the temple to get shovels. When they returned we found a shady spot under a tree and buried Bruce Lee. Head Nun recited a few mantras and someone suggested we sing a few Buddhist hymns. Unfortunately none of us could think of any at that painful moment and were taken aback when Ah Hwa Kor suddenly burst out singing "Amazing Grace" in a powerful, squeaky voice. We had never heard her sing before and we were, to say the least, rather stunned but we joined in all the same. It was a very dignified funeral for a rooster and we all felt sure that Bruce Lee had arrived safely in Rooster Heaven.
Later that evening over dinner, we discussed various possibilities why Bruce Lee had been murdered. Everyone had her own theory and in the end we went to bed without solving anything.
I had a sleepless night and just as I was about to fall asleep, probably around dawn, I heard to my surprise a loud cock-a-doodle-doo from the backyard. No, it couldn't be, I thought, Bruce Lee's dead, yet that morning call sounded very familiar. It had a special twang which no other rooster had. Head Nun had heard it too, so had the other nuns, so once again we all rushed to the backyard ..... and there he was, Bruce Lee, crowing his head off on top of the coop.
Of course everyone wanted to know what happened. Had Bruce Lee been resurrected? I had never seen Head Nun look so angry. Shaking a finger at Bruce Lee, she said sternly, "Look here, you've caused us enough trouble with your disappearing acts. We found a dead rooster by the river and thought it was you! Can you imagine what a scare we had? Now where have you been and I want the truth from you!"
Bruce Lee cocked his head to one side with such innocence that we couldn't help forgiving him for whatever he could have done.
"Head Nun," he began. "I don't know anything about a dead rooster. You may not believe me but when I was sitting on top of the coop yesterday evening, I heard this strange voice telling me to go roost in the tree at the back. At first I thought I was imaginings things but the voice was so urgent that I felt compelled to obey. So I flew up to one of the branches of the tree. The voice then told me not to come down until two mornings later. It must have known that there was a lunatic on the loose and it saved me from a terrible death!"
Head Nun shook her head. "An incredible story! A mystery voice that saved your life! Then who was it that got killed?"
Bruce Lee shrugged. "Just a cockerel that wandered by, I guess. Poor fellow."
"And you think a lunatic did it."
Bruce Lee rolled his eyes and nodded his head sadly.
Head Nun heaved a sigh and said wearily, "Alright, alright. I've had enough. You had better behave yourself, Bruce Lee, we won't be responsible if someone decides to make mince chicken out of you in the near future. Meantime I'll have to think of something to protect you birds from lunatics like that one."
Head Nun had a higher fence built around the backyard a few days later. I asked Head Nun Nun what she thought of Bruce Lee's story. "I think he knows who did it," she said thoughtfully, "but for reasons of his own, he's not telling us. He's an unscrupulous fellow and I get the feeling that he's not telling us the truth. Mystery voice indeed, what will he think of next! But the important thing is that he is safe, albeit at the cost of another life."
Bruce Lee continued for several more years to be the temple's "early morning call" after which he lost his voice and retired to the forest. We never saw him again and we never learnt what really happened that evening when he was saved by a mystery voice.
The sun had set and the hens in the temple backyard had gone to sleep. The rooster was sitting on top of the roof of the coop, enjoying the light breeze before turning in. As darkness descended, a figure stealthily approached the backyard, jumped over the fence and crept up behind the coop. Before the rooster knew what was happening, he had thrown a sack over the bird and sped away with it. He made his way to the river and gloating with triumph, threw the sack on the ground, stomped on it and hacked it 101 times with his cleaver. Feathers and blood flew into the air and soon the ground was a dirty bloodstained mess. Grinning and laughing to himself, he then left the scene of the crime, satisfied that he had at last got his revenge.
**************
The morning after, we awoke to another commotion in the backyard. I followed Head Nun and the other nuns there to find out what had happened. The hens were once again running around in circles, very distressed. Bruce Lee had gone missing again! As we were trying to calm the hens down, a very agitated Ning came running.
We were shocked. There had never been such horrific incidents there before. We all decided to follow Ning to the river.
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Head Nun looking at the mangled carcass. "I thought somebody had been killed but it looks like ... like a rooster ..." Her voice trailed away.
"Oh no...!" shrieked the nuns. "It's Bruce Lee! It must be! He went missing last night!"
The carcass was too messed up for positive identification but its feathers were the same colours as Bruce Lee's. We came to the conclusion that the unfortunate victim was indeed Bruce Lee.
"Who could have done this terrible thing?" I gasped, not daring to look any closer. A few nuns started to sob and wring their hands in despair.
Finally Head Nun spoke in a quivering voice. "Whoever did this will pay for his crime. Now we've got to give the poor bird a proper burial."
A couple of nuns went back to the temple to get shovels. When they returned we found a shady spot under a tree and buried Bruce Lee. Head Nun recited a few mantras and someone suggested we sing a few Buddhist hymns. Unfortunately none of us could think of any at that painful moment and were taken aback when Ah Hwa Kor suddenly burst out singing "Amazing Grace" in a powerful, squeaky voice. We had never heard her sing before and we were, to say the least, rather stunned but we joined in all the same. It was a very dignified funeral for a rooster and we all felt sure that Bruce Lee had arrived safely in Rooster Heaven.
Later that evening over dinner, we discussed various possibilities why Bruce Lee had been murdered. Everyone had her own theory and in the end we went to bed without solving anything.
I had a sleepless night and just as I was about to fall asleep, probably around dawn, I heard to my surprise a loud cock-a-doodle-doo from the backyard. No, it couldn't be, I thought, Bruce Lee's dead, yet that morning call sounded very familiar. It had a special twang which no other rooster had. Head Nun had heard it too, so had the other nuns, so once again we all rushed to the backyard ..... and there he was, Bruce Lee, crowing his head off on top of the coop.
Of course everyone wanted to know what happened. Had Bruce Lee been resurrected? I had never seen Head Nun look so angry. Shaking a finger at Bruce Lee, she said sternly, "Look here, you've caused us enough trouble with your disappearing acts. We found a dead rooster by the river and thought it was you! Can you imagine what a scare we had? Now where have you been and I want the truth from you!"
Bruce Lee cocked his head to one side with such innocence that we couldn't help forgiving him for whatever he could have done.
"Head Nun," he began. "I don't know anything about a dead rooster. You may not believe me but when I was sitting on top of the coop yesterday evening, I heard this strange voice telling me to go roost in the tree at the back. At first I thought I was imaginings things but the voice was so urgent that I felt compelled to obey. So I flew up to one of the branches of the tree. The voice then told me not to come down until two mornings later. It must have known that there was a lunatic on the loose and it saved me from a terrible death!"
Head Nun shook her head. "An incredible story! A mystery voice that saved your life! Then who was it that got killed?"
Bruce Lee shrugged. "Just a cockerel that wandered by, I guess. Poor fellow."
"And you think a lunatic did it."
Bruce Lee rolled his eyes and nodded his head sadly.
Head Nun heaved a sigh and said wearily, "Alright, alright. I've had enough. You had better behave yourself, Bruce Lee, we won't be responsible if someone decides to make mince chicken out of you in the near future. Meantime I'll have to think of something to protect you birds from lunatics like that one."
Head Nun had a higher fence built around the backyard a few days later. I asked Head Nun Nun what she thought of Bruce Lee's story. "I think he knows who did it," she said thoughtfully, "but for reasons of his own, he's not telling us. He's an unscrupulous fellow and I get the feeling that he's not telling us the truth. Mystery voice indeed, what will he think of next! But the important thing is that he is safe, albeit at the cost of another life."
Bruce Lee continued for several more years to be the temple's "early morning call" after which he lost his voice and retired to the forest. We never saw him again and we never learnt what really happened that evening when he was saved by a mystery voice.
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