by Iris Yang
While standing, she put more pressure on his arm. “Your mother had high hopes for you. General Bai is so proud of you. You can’t disappoint them.”
Frustrated, she pushed at a strand of hair that had fallen from her braids. Without wasting a second, she put her hand back to his arm. “Where is Major Hardy? General said no one knows. You swore you would protect one another. He’s your brother. Those vows are sacred. You must keep them!”
Sensing no response from Birch, she raised her voice as if in this way he could hear her. “Do you remember what you told Miss Jasmine? You said, ‘If you die, you just let the Japs kill one more innocent person without even using their guns or knives.’ Remember?”
Xiao Mei paused to catch her breath. The room seemed too warm. Little droplets of sweat beaded her upper lip. She wiped them off with her arm before rolling the sleeves back to her elbows. “The war is over. Don’t let the Japs kill you now.”
Tears clogged her throat and made her voice crack. “You told Miss Jasmine that life is hard. It can be painful. Being alive can be harder than dying.” She had memorized their conversation word for word. “You encouraged her to be strong. Now it’s your turn. Be a Tiger. Be a hero!”
The typically timid servant was no longer timorous. “Shao Ye, I know you can hear me. If you don’t wake up, I’ll keep yelling at you.”
Xiao Mei kept her word.
The only time she stopped was when she prepared ginseng tea. Hailed as the king of herbs, ginseng had a reputation for saving people from death. Xiao Mei had been feeding Birch twice a day, according to an herbalist whom General Bai had counseled. So far the magic herb hadn’t shown its power.
Xiao Mei dropped the wild ginseng slices into a fine china bowl. Then she stopped. After a moment of consideration, she scooped up a few more pieces, paused, and added more.
“Don’t use too much,” the herbalist had said. “Side effects include agitation, nervousness, sleeplessness, and nose bleed.”
She almost laughed when she thought about the comment of insomnia. What difference will it make if he can’t even wake up? She took more. In the end she made the tea almost ten times more concentrated than the recommended dose.
Her hands trembled as she spoon-fed him. She prayed as she watched him swallow the overdose of ginseng tea, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. Dear Guanyin, Goddess of Mercy, help me. Let this be the right thing to do. Don’t harm him further.
Dawn came and went, and dusk appeared and faded away. To Xiao Mei, time lapsed into a frozen state with one purpose and one purpose only. She kept on talking to Birch, sometimes begging, other times shouting, then more pleading. Followed by her prayers. She did it for two days and two nights.
By the middle of the third night, she had worn herself to a frazzle. Without thinking, she folded her arms on top of his bed. The moment her head hit her arms, she fell into an exhausted sleep and soon started to dream.
In the dream, Birch sat in the middle of a large meadow. His right leg was bleeding; crimson blood covered his pant leg. He struggled to get up, but failed. His leg was too damaged to support him. A grenade in his right hand was the only weapon he had. Dozens of Japanese soldiers surrounded him. When they reached him, in one heart-stopping motion, Birch yanked the ring with his left hand.
“No, Shao Ye. Don’t!” Xiao Mei bolted upright, gasping. Her hands snatched his. Fear glazed her eyes. Even after she realized it was a nightmare, she sucked in one breath after another in an attempt to quell the panic.
Her dream had some truth to it. She knew Daisy was killed by hand grenades, and Birch had never forgiven himself for killing his younger sister.
The dream also jogged her memory of a conversation she’d heard when the two brothers came home the last time. Birch stated that he would rather die than let the Japanese capture him. “I’m going to die anyway. They won’t allow us to live. Might as well take a few of them with me.”
Danny disagreed, “Never give up a chance so easily.” Then he cracked an impish smile. His lustrous eyes twinkled. “Perhaps the Japs don’t give a damn about being dead or alive,” he said, winking at everyone at the table. “Let me tell you, I do.”
Xiao Mei recalled that she’d been floored by this Flying Tiger’s lightheartedness. They were discussing a subject as serious as life and death.
While she tried to pull herself out of the nightmare, she felt a small movement from Birch. His fingers twitched a few times in her grip. Her eyes snapped open. The first glint of dawn peeked through the window, streaking the walls with dappled light. However, shadows still claimed most of the room. In the early morning sunlight, she stared at their interlocked hands.
Birch had done this before. It was an involuntary movement. Still, Xiao Mei couldn’t suppress a glimmer of hope. “Shao Ye?” She waited, gaping at his large hand. Her nerves tingled in anticipation of another movement.
Nothing. His hand remained lifeless. She chewed her bottom lip to stave off a mounting tide of hopelessness.
After a few more callings with no response, she shook his hand in a fit of frustration. Her voice rose, sliding out of control. “Don’t forget about what Major Hardy said. A real Tiger will never give up. You are a real Tiger, aren’t you? Then prove it to us. Prove it to yourself!”
She sensed his movement again. Xiao Mei lifted her head. Her gaze swept across his face. In the past few months, she’d stared at him so much that she could detect any tiny change. She was familiar with the thickness of his eyelashes, the angle of his nose, the curve of his lips. Now, warm sunlight defined the outline of Birch’s face, bringing color to his pale cheeks.
Oh dear Guanyin, Goddess of Mercy. Let him wake up. Her eyes remained fixed upon him as her mind spun back and forth between hope and despair. Let him live!
His eyelids flickered.
“Shao Ye!” she called out, encouraging him. “Keep trying. You can do it.” Never dropping her gaze and barely blinking, she held her breath. Her small hands squeezed his fingers.
Little by little, after several tries, Birch opened his eyes. For the first time in six months, he was awake. His gaze appeared empty. Nevertheless, he was straining to see.
“Dear God!” Xiao Mei exclaimed. Her jaw dropped for a moment before an irrepressible smile spread over her face. A cry of exultation burst from her. Joyful tears sprang to her eyes, blurring her vision. Thank you, God or the Goddess of Mercy. She released an enormous breath, as if she’d held it for months.
Birch opened his mouth to talk, but the words died stillborn on his tongue.
“No need to hurry, Shao Ye.” She lifted her right hand, attempting to caress his cheek. It was a reflex, a habit she’d developed during the past few months.
In midcourse, she stopped. Even her left hand let go of his. Now that he was awake, he was her young master, and she was his servant. She shouldn’t touch him anymore. Tears rolled down her face.
With his awakening, her fear of losing him became real. He was no longer her patient, and she couldn’t be his sole caregiver anymore. She could never again sleep on the cot in the same room. With his rebirth, her closeness to him ended.
Heartbroken, Xiao Mei longed to touch his face. She had an overwhelming urge to comfort him with her arms. Birch was only inches away from her, yet he was no longer reachable. In the opening of an eye, they had retreated to their own worlds—unbridgeable worlds.
Her hands balled into fists; each fingernail digging deeply into her palms. She wept, trembling from the collision of two equally strong, yet opposite emotions.
General Bai entered the room. “Don’t cry, child. This is a happy occasion.”
“I know. I was…” Xiao Mei stuttered, blinking hard to fight back her tears. “I’m…I’m going to fix something for Shao Ye.” She stood, head bowed, averting eye contact.
Once again, she was an obedient and quiet servant.
Part Two
Rocky Paths
Chapter 23
“Dad?” It took great effo
rt for Birch to speak; his mouth felt rubbery and tasted of copper.
General Bai sat next to the bed and gripped Birch’s hand. His own hands were shaky. “Finally, you’re awake,” he croaked. The father could not help but think about the decision he’d made. What if Xiao Mei hadn’t stopped him? What if he hadn’t changed his mind? The mere thought struck terror in his heart. Looking at the young man, he could hardly suppress his gratitude—his son was going to live.
“How…long?” Birch rasped. He strained to remember. In his oblivion, he’d heard noises. Distant voices. Loud yelling. Even screams. Someone had squeezed his hands and shaken his arms. But he couldn’t make sense of it. Where was he? What time was it? Memories churned through his mind. There was a ditch. They were digging, and suddenly gunshots erupted around them. He lay among the bodies of fellow prisoners, waiting to die, struggling to stay alive. Now it was all coming back to him. Pain: unbearable, mind-numbing pain. The sounds of dying men. The smell of gunpowder. And death. He closed his eyes to calm himself.
But how long ago was that? He squinted against the early morning sunlight and was just able to make out an olive green model airplane hanging from the ceiling. It took him a few moments to regain his bearings. What? He was in his own room—in Chungking! How could that be? How did he end up here…with his father? Chungking is hundreds of miles from Yunnan. Is this a dream? He tried in vain to piece together the disconnected stimuli.
“A…while.” General Bai didn’t have the heart to tell his son the truth. Not yet. Not until the young man felt better.
“I’m home…”
“It’s a long story. Don’t talk. Take it slow. I’ll tell you everything in time.”
Birch shook his head. He had to know. He had to find out. No time to waste. He must go back to Yunnan to find his sworn brother. He arched his neck against the pillow. “I have to find…” He was out of breath.
“Find whom?” Seeing his son’s anguish, General Bai was alarmed.
“I have to find Danny. He’s—”
“Take a deep breath. Speak slowly. Where is Danny?”
“I don’t know. But he’s out there. I have to—” With shaky hands, Birch tried to push himself up. Exhaustion thrust him back onto the pillow. Even with Xiao Mei’s constant assistance, his muscle strength was almost non-existent.
General Bai said, “Be patient. It’ll take a while before you can—”
“No! We don’t have time. It’s been…two days.” He tried to get up again.
General Bai’s heart sank. Right away, even without knowing the story behind it, he knew this would be another heartbreaking outcome. “You can’t. You—”
Before his father could finish, Birch used his elbows to push up to a sitting position. He panted. General Bai had no choice. He had to lend a helping hand. As soon as he was sitting upright, and before his father could stop him, Birch flung back the blanket. Apparently, he was going to get out of the bed. But then he stopped. His eyes opened wide in astonishment when he caught sight of his nearly naked body. Chills ran up his spine as he looked at his once muscular frame. It was thin, frail, and covered with scars. His left arm was still hooked to an IV drip.
In a hurry, he stripped the rest of the blanket off. A look of terror appeared on his face. He raised his head. His mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. Without a leg, how could he walk? How would he ever fly again? How could he find Danny?
Gently General Bai pressed his hand against the young man’s shoulder, pinning him to the bed.
“Let me get up.” Birch was so drained he had to pause. Only the love for his brother kept him going. “Dad, take me to the hospital.” He gripped his father’s arm with the desperate expression of a drowning man in search of a lifeline. “The doctors will give me a leg. The doctors…”
His father helped him to sit up again. “We’ll go to the hospital. But it’ll take time, Birch. You won’t—”
“Danny doesn’t have time. We have to look for him. It’ll be too late if we don’t—”
“It’s already too late, Son. Too late.”
“What do you mean?” An involuntary shudder shot through Birch. “Danny is dead, isn’t he?”
“We haven’t found him. We don’t know.”
“Then there is hope.”
“Birch, it won’t make any difference if you wait a few more days. It’s been…six months.”
“Six months?”
“Yes. You’ve been in a coma for half a year. We’ve tried to look for Danny. But…”
His grip on his father’s arm loosened. Leaning back, he closed his eyes. Too late. Too late! He kept on screaming in his mind. Danny is gone. Long gone!
Birch was undone by all of it—the fatigue of being confined to bed for months, the shock of realizing his disability, the pain of losing his sworn brother, the helplessness… Another surge of dizziness and rockets of heartache hit him. The last thing he heard before passing out was a high-pitched cry of “Shao Ye” accompanied by the sound of breaking glass.
Chapter 24
For three weeks Birch didn’t speak or do much of anything. Since the day he awoke and found out six months had already passed, he knew he wouldn’t find Danny alive. Even finding his brother’s remains seemed impossible, now that he’d lost a leg.
No one knew where the Flying Tiger was.
His father had already contacted the military hospital in Yunnan where Birch had been treated first. All they could say was that several farmers had pulled him out of a mass grave. There was no other survivor. Nobody had mentioned seeing an American among the dead bodies. And worse yet, they had no idea where the farmers came from. The civilians had carried him for a couple of hours before they’d found the army base and dropped him off.
Birch knew where their planes had crashed. It wasn’t far from the town of Dashan. The Air Force had already located the wreckage. He had a vague idea about where they’d been imprisoned. He and Danny had estimated that they were about fifteen to twenty-five miles north or east of Dashan. Yet that was a vast area covered by dense forest and rugged terrain. How could he go through the mountainous area searching for Danny without a leg?
At least I should write a letter to Danny’s parents and sister. I must tell them what happened. He looked at the yellow notepad on the ebony nightstand. He’d asked for it, but so far he hadn’t written a single word. Where would he start?
How can I ease their pain when they have to face the unbearable truth? No words seemed adequate to express his profound love and equally deep regret.
Birch could almost hear them scolding him. “What kind of Big Brother are you?” He imagined Susan pointing fingers at him, yelling, “You and Danny are sworn brothers. Why is he dead but you are still alive? Give back my brother!”
He deserved blame. How could I cast caution to the wind? He should have known better. He should have known that Danny would try anything to save him. The Flying Tiger would not give up so easily.
Propped against a stack of pillows in bed, he looked up. The olive green airplane hanging from the ceiling had been a gift from Danny. The Flying Tiger had handed him the radio-controlled plane when they returned home to celebrate Chinese New Year with his father last year. His memory returned to that happy day.
“When we’re too old to fly fighters,” Birch had said, assessing the well-designed model aircraft in his hand, “we can still fly these.”
With a wide grin on his face, Danny suggested, “Let’s start a club then.” Making quotation marks with his hands, he continued, “How about calling it Old Bold Flying Tigers?”
His father joined in. “There are bold Flying Tigers. There will be old Flying Tigers. But there won’t be too many old and bold Flying Tigers.”
They all laughed.
His father rarely joked. But now his words came true. Danny would never grow old. He would forever be thirty, two days shy of his thirty-first birthday. The bold Flying Tiger had left the chance to grow old to him.
Birch turned h
is gaze to the other nightstand. On it lay the only things Danny had left behind—the white scarf and the empty medicine bottle. The scarf had been washed, although there were still smudges of blood that couldn’t be removed. Who did that for me? A nurse? He was grateful to whoever had saved those and his ring. Nowadays he had nothing but those two items to remind him of Danny.
He picked up the small bottle, stared at it for a long time, and put it in his pocket. Carefully, he laid the scarf inside the drawer, hiding it along with all his diaries.
Two weeks earlier, a number of former colleagues had visited him. One of them brought back his last diary, which he’d tucked underneath his pillow in their dorm room. He couldn’t bear to touch it. The leather-bound journal seemed non-threatening, yet what lay within was too much for his weak heart. In time, he hoped he would be strong enough to read it. But for now, the wound was too raw and his sense of loss too overwhelming.
Birch turned his head toward the window as if seeking escape. He hadn’t been outside for months and he missed the sunshine on his face. Fresh air and beautiful nature always cheered him. Outdoors was another passion I shared with Danny.
It was a beautiful winter morning. A smattering of white clouds dotted the crystal-blue sky. Beyond the wilted lawn and amongst the bony gray branches, clusters of small pink flowers speckled the edge of the woods. Bright sunlight poured through the large window, illuminating a red paper-cutting of a tiger on the glass.
One look at the tiger and Birch felt a lump form at the back of his throat. After so many years, the color had faded. It wasn’t as vibrant as he’d first seen it. “That’s a fierce tiger,” he’d commented when Daisy handed it to him on his twenty-fifth birthday.
The fifteen-year-old girl had curved her lips up. “How could I create a tiger that is not fierce?” Her smile was so innocent and sweet.
“You mean you made this? You didn’t just buy it?”
She laughed. “You don’t think I can make something as intricate as a paper-cutting, do you? You think only Jasmine has the artistic ability? Well, you’re not too far off.”
