Tiger by Jeff Stone

of hair. Fu thought he saw something familiar in the man's eyes, but he wasn't sure what.
    Fu shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He must be seeing things.
    The Drunkard spoke with a deep, gravelly voice.
    “What is your name?”
    “Fu.”
    The Drunkard paused. One eyebrow raised up. “Who would give you the name
Tiger?”
    “My temple's Grandmaster.”
    “Your name is Cantonese,” the Drunkard said, stumbling closer. “But Canton is very far from here. What temple are you from?”
    Fu folded his arms. “What do you care?”
    “What do you care that I care?”
    Fu cocked his head to one side. “Why do you answer my question with a question?”
    “Why are you so reluctant to answer?”
    Fu leaned back, frustrated. “You talk like a monk, you filthy bum.”
    “Perhaps that is because I've spent some time with monks,” the Drunkard said, smiling.
    “Sure you have.”
    “Surely, I have,” the Drunkard said.
    Fu sneered. “Next you're going to tell me that themonks you spent time with were from the great Shaolin Temple, right?” Fu leaned forward.
    The Drunkard leaned forward, too. “Perhaps,” he said. The Drunkard lost his balance and stumbled into the cage. It shook violently.
    Fu leaned back. “You're pathetic. You only say that because Shaolin is so famous, even a lowly, homeless Drunkard would have heard of it. What would you know about Shaolin?”
    The Drunkard brushed his tangled hair to the side. “I know that the monks there never attack innocent villagers.”
    Fu banged his fists against the front of the cage. “That's not fair! I said I was sorry!”
    The hair fell back over the Drunkard's eyes. He continued to stare but said nothing more.
    “What more can I do?” Fu asked. “I made a mistake, but I am not entirely at fault. Those hunters should share some of the blame.”
    “Really?” the Drunkard asked.
    “Really!” Fu said. “Listen to what I have to say, Drunkard, since no one else in this stupid village will. I am a Cangzhen monk. My temple was secret, founded by Shaolin monks who fought for Truth and defended Justice. We were recently attacked and our temple was destroyed by a traitor, and I've been sent to find others to help me stop the traitor before he ruins even more lives. That traitor is none other than Major Ying. In my search for help, I happened across some men hunting tigers for sport, one of whom wasthe Governor. As a Cangzhen monk, I cannot stand around while tigers are destroyed for no reason.”
    “No reason?” the Drunkard said. “Did the hunters tell you that they were only hunting for sport?”
    “They didn't say that they weren't,” Fu replied.
    “Perhaps you should have asked them what they were doing before you attacked.”
    “I
saw
what they were doing!” Fu said.
    “Not everything is the way it looks, young man,” the Drunkard said in a fatherly tone. “Sometimes you need to listen, too. You've said it yourself.”
    Fu slammed his fist down on the floor of the cage. “They had nothing to say!”
    “Really?” the Drunkard asked.
    “Really!”
    “Tell me then, monk—what do you think of the Governor?”
    Fu rolled his eyes. “He is a fool.”
    “Really?”
    “Really! Really! Really!” Fu said, slamming his fist down again. “A thousand times, really! Only a fool would promise those scrolls to Ying.”
    The Drunkard scratched his scraggly beard. “How is the Governor to know what Major Ying might do with the scrolls?”
    “I was
trying
to tell him!” Fu replied. “All the Governor had to do was listen to me for a second.”
    “So you're saying that anyone who doesn't listen to you is a fool?”
    “Yes! I mean, no!” Fu took a deep breath andpaused. “What I mean is, anyone who doesn't listen in general is a fool.”
    “Okay, that's fair,” the Drunkard said. He sat down on the ground in front of Fu. “I have something to say, then. Are you listening?”
    Fu rolled his eyes again but kept his mouth closed and his ears open.
    “The