by Iris Yang
Gao Da faltered. The young woman’s comment, innocent or deliberate, worried him. No one dared to challenge a military commander. He deduced from their expensive clothing that the girl wasn’t bluffing. They belonged to an even higher class. His arm slackened.
It still took a lengthy negotiation before he agreed to sell Xiao Mei to them instead of the brothel. Xiao Mei stood wild-eyed as the event unfolded before her.
“Where do you live?” Mrs. Bai asked after Gao Da left. “We’ll send you home.” They already had a live-in maid.
With one hand to her cheek where the smack had left a red imprint, Xiao Mei shook her head. No matter how much she wanted to go home, she couldn’t. I have to pay back their kindness. Even at fourteen, she understood an ancient philosophy—a drop of water shall be returned with a burst of spring. They didn’t give me just a few drops of water, they gave me my life. A life without shame and pain.
At her insistence, they agreed to keep her as a live-in servant. So she went home with them. The next afternoon, still in a bewildered state, she saw Jasmine step into the courtyard with a young man. For a moment, she thought she was watching a scene in a movie, although she’d seen a movie only once in her life.
Jasmine wore a slate-gray skirt and a rose-pink shirt that hugged her slender frame. Her tall young man, in his early twenties, had a white T-shirt and sporty black shorts that showed off his muscled arms and well-toned legs. They walked and talked, laughing along the way, each holding a tennis racket. Warm sunlight shone on their youthful faces.
“Xiao Mei is our new helper.” Jasmine introduced the girl to the young man. “Xiao Mei,”—she turned to the stunned servant girl—“this is Cousin Birch. He lives next door. His father and my dad are twins.”
When he smiled and nodded a greeting, her pulse quickened, her nearly translucent cheeks blushing pink. She was mesmerized by his eyes—deep-set, lustrous, and almost holy in their intensity. She bowed her head to hide the telltale rosy stains on her face.
From that day onward, Xiao Mei often stood at a distance watching Birch talk and play with Jasmine and Daisy, his younger sister. She wished she could be with them. But when they asked her to join them, she shook her head and smiled shyly. As a servant she knew her place in society; she wasn’t in their class.
A year later, Birch’s family moved to Chungking, a city nine hundred miles to the west. Soon Jasmine followed to attend college while her family stayed in Nanking. And then, in July, 1937, after a series of localized conflicts between China and Japan, a full-fledged war broke out. Five months later, the Imperial Japanese Army invaded the capital of the Republic of China—and immediately began the notorious Nanking Massacre, and the ancient city turned into a living hell on earth.
Professor Bai could have left the city before the invasion—most of his colleagues and students had already fled—but he didn’t. A graduate of the University of Tokyo, he was determined to act as liaison to negotiate with the Japanese so that his university would not end up in ruins.
On December thirteenth, several Japanese soldiers burst into his comfortable home. They rounded up Xiao Mei, the other housemaid and Mrs. Bai, and dragged them out of the house. Professor Bai stepped in with open arms, trying to reason with them, however he never had the chance. Without warning, one soldier stuck a knife into the scholar’s chest. Screams and cries filled the room.
Mrs. Bai yelled in flawless Japanese, “I’ll go with you. Just let me close his eyes. Please!” As the startled soldiers released her arms, she leaned over her husband’s body. Instead of closing his eyes, though, she yanked the knife out of his chest and thrust the dagger into her own heart.
Xiao Mei watched in horror as blood soaked through Mrs. Bai’s white cheongsam and dripped down the handle, across her fingers and onto the hardwood floor. The kind and genteel woman collapsed on top of her husband, her eyes wide open, staring into emptiness.
The shocked soldiers gaped at the two bodies in the living room. The fact that this beautiful woman could speak their language faultlessly seemed to trouble them. Had they killed one of their own? Filled with doubts, they staggered out of the house, leaving the two shaken housemaids.
The two girls spent a terror-filled night inside the house. The next morning, as they were leaving, Jasmine returned from Chungking, hoping to convince her parents to leave the city.
While one maid tried to go home to her family, Xiao Mei and Jasmine sought shelter in the International Safety Zone established by a small band of Westerners. With nothing but courage and compassion, the foreigners risked their own lives to resist the Japanese troops. They sheltered hundreds of thousands of people from the massacre.
The Safety Zone wasn’t danger-free, though. The Japanese came into the refugee camps at will, searching for disarmed Chinese soldiers to kill and pretty girls to rape. Xiao Mei and Jasmine witnessed the slaughter of surrendered Nationalist soldiers. They lived with the constant threat of being kidnapped from the camp. But they survived. And with the help of an American priest, Xiao Mei reunited with her parents and brother.
Her family joined her maternal grandparents and three uncles and their families. They boarded a small boat to flee to Chungking. Nine hundred miles away, the wartime capital was supposed to be safe. But before they reached their destination, they ran into an air raid. The Japanese bombed their tiny fishing boat.
To avoid being blasted to death, all leaped overboard. But none of her immediate family knew how to swim. While she held on to a piece of wood for dear life, everyone else either drowned or was killed by the bomb or swept away by the raging water of the Yangtze River.
Xiao Mei crawled to safety on the muddy shore. “Why?” she wailed. Why did her brother have to die at such a young age? Why did her parents and grandparents have to leave her? Why was she left alone? Why didn’t I die with them? She cried and cried.
As the sun slanted toward the western horizon, she realized that if she didn’t get up soon, she too would perish. She wiped away her tears. Twisting her braided pigtails around her head, she buried them underneath her brother’s hat. Turning her colorful jacket inside out to cover her flat-chested body, she disguised herself as a boy and soldiered onward. Grief was a luxury she could not afford.
Xiao Mei walked the rest of the way to Chungking. She had no money so she begged for food. She had no choice.
Once she walked in the rain with a high fever before collapsing at the steps of a Buddhist temple. She was rescued by the monks. But soon they chased her out after discovering that she was a girl. Monks were forbidden to be in the company of females.
Another time three teenage boys surrounded her. Dirty and thin as scarecrows, they were also beggars. She’d accidentally entered their “territory.” While they wrestled a bun from her, her long braids fell out of the hat. The boys staggered back. After a stunned silence, the one holding the bun handed it back to her. As the other two protested, he held up a restraining hand. “Hao nan bu he nu dou.” Lifting his scrawny chest, he reiterated, “A real man doesn’t fight with a woman.” He pulled his reluctant companions away, leaving Xiao Mei dumbfounded but grateful.
It took her three months to reach Chungking. She had no idea how she’d survived except she’d clung tenaciously to hope—a tiny spark gleaming like a beacon in the darkness.
When she arrived at the Bai residence, she was as bony as a ghost. Her tattered clothes hung loosely on her starved body. She wore scruffy shoes two sizes larger than her feet; her own shoes were long gone, and she’d found this pair in a trash can.
The security guards wouldn’t let her inside. She waited several hours before Birch and his father showed up at the gate. Neither of them recognized her.
Xiao Mei threw herself on her knees, blocking their way. “I’ll do anything. I’m a good servant,” she begged.
Birch pulled her up by the arms.
She’d meant to remain on her knees until they allowed her to stay, but he lifted her to her feet. He bent down, studying her thin a
nd dirty face. Incredulously, he called to his father, “I think this is Xiao Mei.” He turned to her and asked, “You are Xiao Mei, aren’t you?”
The gentleness in his voice and the concern on his face brought tears to her eyes. She wasn’t sad. She was just touched. No one else in the world knew her name, no one cared, and no one had called her Little Sister for months.
Her tears seemed to frighten Birch. “Don’t cry, Xiao Mei.” He added hastily, “You’re home now. You’re safe here. No need to be afraid anymore.”
From then on, his home became her home—it wasn’t just a home; it was her refuge, her sanctuary.
Chapter 21
Birch’s condition didn’t change; for months the scene inside the house remained the same. But the outside world was very different. After eight years, the war against Japan was finally over. As the celebration subsided, the threat of civil war between the Nationalists and the Communists preyed upon everyone’s mind. Since 1927, the two parties had fought for control. The Japanese attack had brought them together to form a united front to counter the foreign invasion, but now that the common enemy was defeated, it was uncertain who would control the country. A peaceful solution didn’t seem within easy reach, and war became more and more inevitable.
General Bai was tired of fighting. He’d tried his best to mediate the conflict, but failed. He was one of the minorities that had worked hard for a peaceful resolution. Yet he wasn’t powerful enough to influence the decision made from above. The middle-aged man had no interest in another battle. Years of combat and too many deaths in the family had affected his health. He sent a resignation letter and retired from the Air Force, where he’d worked for many years.
His plan was to move to Tao Hua Cun—Village of Peach Blossoms in the mountainous region in Yunnan Province. Japanese troops had slaughtered most of the villagers after they refused to give up Danny Hardy. Jasmine became a heroine who had died for the American pilot. Daisy had perished not far away from the village. Both General Bai and Birch had vowed to rebuild the once-charming community. It was time to honor that vow.
What about Birch?
During the past six months, the general had met with countless doctors. Their answers to his questions were not encouraging. One prominent doctor, without seeing the patient, had claimed that Birch would not recover. “Even on the off chance that he does wake, it’ll be difficult for him to carry out daily functions. It’s a miracle he didn’t get any worse. Complications like infections and bedsores are more likely to happen as time passes. It’s been six months. That’s a long time.”
The possibility of Birch being bedridden for the rest of his life deeply saddened the general. After many sleepless nights, he made a painful decision.
He dragged his feet to his son’s room.
Dressed in a pale blue cotton blouse and gray slacks, Xiao Mei sat beside the bed as usual. She was reading. Her left hand held the book while her right hand massaged Birch’s arm.
The bedroom faced the backyard. Through a large window, a cold sun was setting. Long shadows stretched over the wilted lawn. In the corner of the room, a clay charcoal stove with a kettle on top took the chill off the air. The room smelled of fresh ginseng that rose from a porcelain bowl on the nightstand.
General Bai choked. If making the decision was difficult, telling the young woman wouldn’t be any easier. He eased into a chair at the other side of the bed. His eyes were sunken and weary. His cheeks were hollow. A perceptible slouch in his posture betrayed the composure he tried to maintain.
Xiao Mei offered a polite smile. She turned the book face down on her lap, but her fingers on Birch’s arm kept their firm circular motion.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
“San Guo Yan Yi.” She showed him the cover. It was a picture book, a simplified version of the classic novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
Everyone in China knew the famous pledge made by the three men in the historical fiction. Their statement was often used as a symbol of ultimate fraternal loyalty. Birch and Danny had made that pledge when they vowed to be brothers.
“Shao Ye loves this book. Too bad I can’t read the original version.” Xiao Mei had never attended school. When she was a maid at Professor Bai’s household, Jasmine’s mother had taught her how to read and write before the Nanking Massacre. She wasn’t fluent. So picture books helped her. When she had trouble with the words, she made up the story according to the images.
A lump formed in General Bai’s throat. He couldn’t wait any longer for fear he would change his mind. “Xiao Mei,” he began, “you know we can’t keep him like this forever.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve decided we must let him go.”
“Where are you going to send him?” Her tone grew apprehensive. “Which hospital? May I go with—?”
“No, Xiao Mei, I’m not sending Birch to a hospital. He’s not going to wake up. I’ve decided to…remove the life support.” The muscles of his jaw quivered.
She looked puzzled, unable or unwilling to believe what she’d heard. “Then how…”
“Without nutrients or medicines, he’ll be gone in a few days. He won’t feel pain. He’ll…go…naturally.”
Momentarily knocked off balance, she didn’t make a sound. Then she waved her arms hysterically. “No, no, no. Oh, God,” she shrieked. “Please don’t. Don’t!” She looked panic-stricken.
Typically a man of unshakable calm, General Bai screwed up his eyes. He’d known it wouldn’t be easy, but the immediacy of her grief tore him apart.
“Please,” she pleaded. Hearing no answer, she stood up in a hurry. The picture book fell to the floor. She ignored it. Rushing to the other side of the bed, she dropped to her knees in front of him. “I beg you. Please don’t let Shao Ye go!”
She grabbed his hand, something she would never have done in a normal situation. As kind as General Bai was to her, she wasn’t his equal in the rigid class-ridden society. “He’s so young. Don’t let him die!” Tears spilled onto her cheeks.
The middle-aged man was stunned by this timid girl’s strong reaction. Seeing her grief, he had trouble reigning in his emotions. His back was slightly stooped as though the weight of her hands were pulling him down. He tasted bile rising in his throat. With teary eyes, he gave a resolute shake of his head, refusing to change his mind.
“He will wake up,” she said. “I’m sure. Please give him time. Give him a chance.”
General Bai saw the torment on her face and felt a pang of sympathy—for her, for his son, and for himself. “Even if he wakes up, his life is ruined. Look at him.” He turned his gaze on Birch.
The young man’s hair had grown back and now obscured the scar on his cranium. But his eyes were closed, and his face was white as the sheet. His shrunken figure beneath the blanket lay motionless.
The father’s frown deepened as he stared at the pallor of his son’s face. “Even if he wakes, he’ll be confined to bed for the rest of his life.”
“I’ll help him.” Xiao Mei lifted her right hand, palm forward as if to pledge. “I promise. I’ll help him. I’ll always be there for him…supporting him. I’ll…be his leg. I’ll do anything. Everything! I swear to God; I’ll never leave him. Don’t…” Sobs racked her body as rivers of tears poured down her face.
The general exhaled a ragged breath, but he didn’t budge. He couldn’t see an alternative. It wasn’t a decision made lightly. He’d contemplated it at length. Euthanasia was the only way to allow Birch to die with dignity. This was the last thing a grieving father could do for his helpless son.
“Think about Mrs. Bai,” Xiao Mei said, becoming even more hysterical. Her voice climbed to an uncomfortable high pitch. “Think about Miss Daisy. Think about Miss Jasmine. And Major Hardy. If they were here, what would they say? What would they do?” She gasped for air, choking on sobs. “I know I’m just a servant, but I beg you, for Miss Daisy, for Miss Jasmine.”
Her words tore out his heart. These were his family members. They were h
is loved ones. But they were all gone now. Birch was the only family he had left. How could he let his son go? Maybe Xiao Mei was right. What would they say about his decision? Without a doubt, he knew they wouldn’t agree with him.
His wife would scold him. She’d yell, “Don’t you dare!” Most likely Daisy and Jasmine would beg him just as Xiao Mei now begged him. Danny would tell him that Birch was a strong man and that he would survive. “Never give up a chance to stay alive” had been Danny’s philosophy.
General Bai’s heart ached with a sharp pain as he remembered his loved ones. You can’t let him go. He’s your son, the only family you have. The voice inside him screamed so loudly that he dropped his head into his hands. When he finally looked up, he nodded at the girl still kneeling in front of him.
Through foggy vision, Xiao Mei detected an almost imperceptible nod. “General?” she asked cautiously, as though he would change his mind if she weren’t careful enough.
“Okay, we’ll keep him”—he lifted his hand—“until the war starts…whenever that will be.” Even though small clashes had occurred here and there between the Nationalists and the Communists, an official war wasn’t yet declared. Keeping someone in a coma alive during a full-fledged civil war wasn’t realistic.
Xiao Mei exhaled as if her own life had been spared.
Chapter 22
“Shao Ye, wake up!” Xiao Mei said, as soon as General Bai left the room. “You’ve got to live. Please!” Her hands went to his arm, shaking him. “Miss Daisy would be so sad if she could see you now. Miss Jasmine would be devastated. You don’t want them to feel bad for you, do you?”
