Three Travelers and a Zombie

Dramatis Personae

Three Weary Travellers

A Grieving Widower

His Late Wife (or a part of her)

In the intermittent flashes of lightning three rain-soaked travelers, trudged wearily along the road, fighting the darkness, the rain, and the wind, as well as a strange feeling of uneasiness that increased with every crash of thunder. Strangers to each other, they were drawn into conversation by the need so many feel for human contact in a weird and uncomfortable world.

As they stopped for a minute under the thick foliage of a large tree, their hearts beating fast, a deafening roar of thunder shook and shocked them to their very depths. At the same time, an almost simultaneous flash of lightning split the tree near which they had sought shelter, from top to bottom.

The travelers ran for dear life. "Do you believe in ghosts?" one of them asked of the two others.

"We are good men. Ghosts do not harm good people," the others answered.

"Yes, I know. But do you believe in ghosts?" he insisted. "I do not."

"Neither do we," they replied and plodded on.

They saw a faint light ahead and quickened their steps. Shortly after they knocked at the door of a small house. The owner hesitated a while when they asked for shelter and finally said, "There is no place in the house for you. But you may go in the barn if you like. My wife has recently died and lies there in her coffin. If you do not disturb her she will not disturb you. Do not touch her coffin."

Now it seems that the fear of the dead is a very old human emotion and the travelers would just as soon not have gone into that barn. But since they had all insisted that they did not believe in ghosts, what was there for them to do but to go in? Three lights were burning on the wall above the coffin which stood in the corner.

The weary travelers threw themselves exhausted upon the ground and tried to sleep, but sleep eluded them. They grew so uneasy that they could not stand the sight of the coffin any longer so they moved it out in the rain and returned, to fall into a heavy sleep.

picture
“As the second light went out, a stab of her finger killed the second sleeper.”
(Drawing by Crystal K. Chan, Eleanor Roosevelt College, UCSD, Class of 2019, by permission.)

Outside the rain came down in torrents. Soon it soaked through the coffin of the dead woman. Suddenly there was a stirring inside, and then a horrible screech as the lid of the coffin flew off. The shrouded figure that emerged was caught up in a gust of wind as it moved slowly to the barn door, opened it and approached a sleeping figure. One of the lights turned blue, then flickered, and as it went out the ghost stabbed at the man. She moved on to the second one; the second light turned blue and flickered, and as it went out a stab of her finger killed the second sleeper. She turned to the third traveler, but he awoke, saw her and ran out into the rain with the ghost at his heels.

Now as he raced in the cold rain, realizing that the ghost was gaining on him, and fearing the imminent touch of her icy fingers, he saw a tree and ran straight for it, but than swerved suddenly and fell into a faint on the other side. The ghost ran full into the tree, her pace so rapid that her long fingernails became embedded in it and were held fast.

Next morning the husband went to the barn, and finding the two dead men and the coffin in the rain, went to find his wife and the third man. He discovered the tree dead, his wife held fast by her fingernails, and the third traveler in a faint.

Ho removed his wife's body and buried it, then carried the traveler home and took care of him. Since that day this good man, at least, believes in ghosts.


Source:

RADIN, Paul
1940 Chinese tales told in California. Occasional papers of the California State Library, Sutro Branch, manuscript series 1. (A more widely accessible reprint edition is available from Orient Cultural Service, Shihlin, Taiwan. In that edition, this story occurs on pages 30-31.)

Comment:

This tale was collected by John LEE in 1935 and 1936 as oral tradition among Chinese-Americans in the San Francisco Bay Area.

The story, involving a zombie who sails through the air in straight lines only to be nailed onto a tree by its own fingernails, is commonly told across China, sometimes as just a story, sometimes as what people think they “know” about zombies.

Essentially the same story as this one is found two centuries and more earlier in the influential collection by PÚ Sōnglíng 蒲松龄 (1640-1715). The San Francisco version here most likely was ultimately derived, perhaps through many retellings, from that source. For Pú's version, click here. For a brief note on Chinese zombies, click here.