Twenty-three Crates from China
by Prudence Hemming

FOREWARD

I was asked to report on the aftermath of the deceased’s life from observations made at the final viewing. The sections below list observations of the physical remains and excerpts from documents recorded at different times in her last days. The final section is based on actual events written in accordance with her wishes. Items 1-3 are taken from a work in progress as outlined below. 

Dr. Adele Wunderlich, attending physician.

6^th January 2043

THE REPORT

Item 1 excerpts from the Viewing

Item 2 excerpts from the Dreaming

Item 3 excerpts from Clinical Case Notes

1. Sleeper faces west, lying on her side. Torso prone. Head turned sideways—left arm buried under a pillow of sand. Wrist and hand visible. Fingers—curled, grasp the ground, indicating the sleeper has either landed from or anticipated a fall.
   
2. Traveller, standing at the bus stop, you are surprised to find you are alone. Though generally in the habit of traveling unaccompanied, you hesitate.
3. I remember you said,

           “It’s a miracle you survived after everything you went through.”

1. Mouth—open. On several occasions, eyelids—flutter for a few seconds. Eyes—open. Intermittent gasping sounds. Sleeper unresponsive.
2. When you board the bus you find every seat is empty.The buzzing sound in the cabin makes it difficult to get your bearings. You start to gag, feeling cut off from everything surrounding you.
   Only one thing matters.
   You arrived in time.
3. The clock on the wall was about to tick when you asked,

           “What have you learnt from this life?”

 

 

 

1. Neck tendons—distended as if attempting to flee or habituated reaction to alarm. No visible signs of impending danger in the surrounding environment were noted.
2. Later, strolling aimlessly through the ancient city laneways, you get the sense you are being watched. To your right, you glimpse the whites of many eyes looking out from shaded casement openings cut into the mountain rock.
3. When I said the girl in my story is pathetic, you replied,

          “I think she is beautiful.”

 

 

 

1. Chin—tipped up, causing neck tendons to contort. Nightly observations confirm that the condition is acute. 
2. Traveller, walking further on, you arrive at a brick wall. Devoid of artifice except for mortared lines of brick on brick, this tower rising into the sky blocks your path.
3. At some point, you said,

          “Perhaps an ancestor, a woman, is helping you.”

 

 

1. Jaw—Mouthguard along upper teeth. Observable clamping and biting down onto the plate. Lips—parted, look to be snarling—no discernible utterance. 
2. Everyone in the street drifts away. At this impasse, you stop. With no end in sight and no one to reply, even so, you ask,
   “How was this built brick by brick?”
3. After I recounted the betrayals repeated through my life, you said,

          “You shouldn’t have to go through that.”

 

 

 

1. Right arm—fallen off the edge of the bed. Hand—limp—occasional twitching of the fingertips.
2. Traveller, the answer to your question is searching for you. Effortlessly, you pass through the wall, landing on the shore of a peninsula. An offshore breeze hits your face. You hear the tide turning. Puffs of sand circle your feet.
3. When we met last summer, you remembered you had this dream. You said,

           “I was just about to finish reading your story when the words went all blurry.”

 

 

 

1. Hip—variations in posture and intermittent convulsive movement on consecutive nights were observed—back muscles rigid—simultaneous arching, thrashing up and down. 
2. A wooden hut on the rocks is close to the crashing waves. Sheltering inside an entrance at the front door, a watchman in a faded grey uniform stands to attention. A small gold badge on his lapel catches the sun.
3. You were reading in the garden on a grey overcast afternoon. Suddenly the clouds parted, and the sun shone brightly lighting up the page. You said the words were as clear as a bell and stayed in your mind for some time.

 

 

 

1. Skin—sweat marks from exertion. Abdomen—clenched in spasm. 
2. Traveller, unable to mind your own business and thinking the watchman could be in peril, you pitch your voice to be heard above the sound of the wind,
   “Aren’t you afraid the stormy waves will dash your house against the rocks?”
   Loudly, he replies,
   “No, I am never afraid.”
3. Halfway through one of those carefully measured hours, you said,

           “As a child, you must have been in a trance.”

 

 

1. Feet—folded. Right toes—curl around the left foot. Appear held down. 
2. Traveller, you catch the watchman’s words against the wind and sea roar. He shouts, “I am waiting to take you to the next level.”
   Then, he resumes his post, thinking his job is done.
   Meanwhile, you look to the horizon
                                                                          —   perhaps you go
   for a swim.
3. Our eyes met.

1. 1. Eyelids—half closed.

                                                                  —There was

nowhere to run, no- where to hide.
My parents and everyone else stopped talking. They were horrified. After that, I stopped remembering what everyone else had forgotten. All my school friends disappeared when I had to leave school.

—Decades later, the Buddhist community built a monastery in the southern hinterland of the driest state on earth. They placed a giant statue of the Goddess of Compassion in a meadow with a fine coastal view.

—The day I saw the Standing Bodhisattva, I was shocked to find her looking in direct line of sight across to the place where I was sexually assaulted, near a dirt road.

—The gigantic woman’s body parts were cut into pieces and delivered to the Antipodean site in twenty-three white crates from China. Her head arrived in a separate metal cage. Iron bars held her there fast. A rubber sponge was put on the bridge of her nose to cushion the blow of the rusty steel bars.

— Workers unpacked the crates and methodically placed her hands, arms, decolletage and feet on the ground. Her head was left in the metal cage with her face turned in profile. All the stone body parts were methodically glued together until her figure lay fully assembled on the grass.

—All this time, her hair —curving like a tidal wave above her forehead and tied into a large knot on her crown, remained unruffled.

—Everyone was relieved to find the right hand intact, stored in a separate box. The index and little fingers were upraised, with the ring finger touching the thumb according to specifications.

—Placed on a pedestal on the top of the hill, her torso is covered in flowing folds.

—Viewed from the rear, the back of her head and shoulders are cloaked in a heavy, almost leaden robe.

—Likewise, from the front, she appears frozen.

—Only her bare feet, hands and face are visible.

—There is a red dot between her brows. Otherwise, her face is smooth and white.

—Her eyes remain half open.

—From beneath her garment hem, her right foot—

steps forward

      3.—this feeling of immense solidarity.

1. hair—dry with salt
2. in the middle distance some native pines bow down, almost flattened by the force of Antarctic gales common in these parts
   across these many years.
   

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PRUDENCE HEMMING is a creative fiction writer living in Adelaide, South Australia. With a background in the performing arts, she has also written scripts for radio broadcasts and theatre. In her early career, she was awarded a Fellowship from the Literature Board of the Australia Council and went on to have short stories published in literary periodicals while working as an adult educator. In 2022 was selected to participate in a WritersSA Manuscript Incubator and is currently completing a series of novellas for publication.