by Iris Yang
She lowered her voice and moved closer, as if telling a secret. “I’ve tried many times and wasted lots of paper.” She pointed to the fine lines. “I had a lot of trouble. They broke easily. I almost gave up. But I didn’t. It’s a gift for you, my Big Tiger Brother.” A broad grin had lit her face like summer sunshine. She’d always been so proud of him.
The vivid memory of her smile tore out his heart. The lump in his throat expanded and started to burn. Daisy, his sweet younger sister, was forever a soft spot. Birch screwed up his eyes to calm himself. When he opened them, he shifted his gaze to the inside of the room, avoiding the painful reminder.
But the room wasn’t any safer. His eyes settled on a wood-framed oil painting on the wall. It was a stunning landscape of a snow-capped mountain and a meadow filled with wildflowers in full bloom. A lonesome figure sat on the ground. Her face was partly obscured, but her sorrow was more than evident.
Birch knew the image by heart. On the brink of the Japanese invasion, Jasmine had returned to Nanking in an attempt to convince her parents to leave, but had only found their bodies in a pool of blood. Having experienced the horror of the massacre, for a moment she lost her will to live. It was he who had encouraged her to keep going.
He remembered he’d told her to be strong, to pull herself together. “I know it’s hard. It’s very painful. Being alive can be harder than dying.”
Did I say that to her?
Afterward, Jasmine had painted this picture for him as a gift, but more significantly as a promise. She was going to live, no matter how hard life proved to be.
Now it was his turn. And he found that it was harder than he’d imagined. He’d told Jasmine to live a productive life. What kind of worthwhile life would he have? The war against Japan was over. He wasn’t needed as a fighter pilot anymore. Even if he were needed, he couldn’t do anything. What can a cripple do? His career as a pilot was over. In fact, he’d already been honorably discharged from the Air Force.
Birch leaned on the side of the bed, reaching for a pack of Lucky Strikes and a lighter on the nightstand. The doctors had warned him not to smoke. To hell with the doctors! With shaky hands, he lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and exhaled in a rush.
The doctors had told him that his survival of multiple gunshots was a miracle and his awakening from a long coma was a wonder. They said his recovery was another unexplainable marvel. Although he was nowhere near a healthy state, he wasn’t in terrible shape either, as they assumed. The doctors were baffled. “Someone must have helped you,” commented one of them with a broad smile. “It’s definitely a miracle.”
A miracle for what? To test his endurance? To study human capacity to tolerate pain? To see if he was a brave man? And am I still a man? A man can be intimate with a woman. What kind of man can I be? No wonder Mary left me.
When he’d asked about Mary, he saw a grim look on his father’s face. The mere fact that she hadn’t visited him said it all.
Through a swirl of smoke, his gaze turned to a pair of tiger-head shoes on the dresser. The tiny children’s footwear was made of scarlet red cloth. The toe-cap was embroidered to look like a tiger’s head.
Mary had given them, half as a joke and half as a hint. “You can wear them,” she’d teased, “or you can save them…until we have a good-looking baby tiger just like you.” Her face flushed when she handed him the shoes. “Oh, my Perfect Tiger, take…” She bowed her head. Biting her lip for a few moments before she whispered again, “You see, I’m your birthday present.”
She leaned into him, her hand caressing his chest. A whiff of her intoxicating perfume enveloped him. She was wearing the rich carmine red dress he’d bought for her. The elegant outfit accentuated the curves of her feminine frame. Birch remembered his body had hardened, burning with desire. It took every ounce of restraint he’d possessed not to take up her offer.
He recoiled at the vivid memory. Her seductive words still echoed in his mind, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. How could a woman be so cold after she’d already considered “giving herself to him” and having a child with him?
And have I done the right thing? Birch had mixed feelings about what he’d done, or hadn’t done.
On one hand, he was relieved that he’d stopped her. He would be hurt by a guilty conscience if he’d followed his desire. It would be detrimental, for her, if they were intimate. She would suffer the scorn of the society. She might have trouble finding a suitable husband later on. Even though Mary wasn’t his anymore, he still cared about her. He wanted her to be happy. He was positive he’d made a right decision on that day.
On the other hand, Birch almost regretted not accepting her offer. What the hell were you thinking, you fool? A self-deprecating chuckle followed, bitter and hollow. You may never know how it feels to be intimate with someone. Dammit! You may never taste the sexual pleasure of being with the one you love. Or with any woman! From a selfish standpoint, he’d made a huge mistake.
What would he do if he could turn back time? Would he still do the right thing? Or would he treasure the once-in-a-lifetime chance to be with the only woman he’d ever loved? It didn’t really matter now. No matter how he felt, the past was in the past, and Mary was part of his history.
One cigarette after another, Birch smoked as he thought, haunted by his memories and dark emotions.
Chapter 25
A little before noon, a soft rap on the door interrupted Birch’s thoughts. Seconds later, Xiao Mei came in with a tray in her hands. Although he had no appetite, his father insisted that he eat. The young housemaid always prepared more than he could consume.
“It’s lunch time, Shao Ye.” Xiao Mei pushed the notepad and the pack of Lucky Strikes aside and set the silver platter on the ebony nightstand. Right away, the fresh aroma of ginseng from the steam of a teacup mingled with the harsh odor of the smoke.
“Here is your favorite rice porridge.” She picked up a white porcelain bowl with a gold rim. “I made it the way you like it—chopped pork, chicken, century egg, mushrooms, and ginger. It’s hot.” She blew air to the dish while she stirred it with a spoon to cool it.
Birch waved a hand. “Not hungry.” He took another long draw on the cigarette. Smoking only discouraged his appetite.
“You must eat. Otherwise, how can you get better?” She pushed the bowl in front of him. “I remember Major Hardy was stunned by the century egg’s dark color. But when you dared him, he ate the whole thing. He liked it once he tried it. I bet not many Westerners are as brave as the Flying Tiger.” She offered a smile as cheerful as her apricot colored shirt.
Birch wrinkled his nose in distaste. He genuinely didn’t care about food at the moment. And the thought of Danny and his love for Xiao Mei’s dishes tightened his throat.
Reluctantly she put the bowl back on the tray. “How about some fruit? Perhaps it’ll stimulate your appetite.” With one hand holding the plate full of various colors, she picked up a large piece of mango using a pair of ivory chopsticks. “Mango is your favorite. You—” She moved the golden wedge before him as she talked.
Birch turned his head away as if the fruit were poison. “Take it away. Take it away from me.” His voice was trilling. As he waved his arm, blocking the sight of the fruit, his hand accidently bumped into Xiao Mei’s.
It took her by surprise, and the plate dropped from her hand onto the tray. Concurrent with her scream and jump, the silver platter tipped over. Instantly the fine china teacup, plate, and bowl shattered into fragments. Ginseng tea and the rice porridge splashed everywhere; pieces of fruits scattered all over the hardwood floor.
For a moment, they stared at each other, stunned by the incident.
“Birch!” General Bai stepped into the room. “Your mother raised you to be a gentleman.” His tone was harsh, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “Don’t take it out on Xiao Mei.”
“No, no, no,” protested the young maid, waving her arms. “It’s my fault. Shao Ye told me he didn’t want to eat. I
insisted. I shouldn’t have. It’s all my fault.”
The father let out a weighty sigh. He softened his voice. “Birch, I know you don’t feel well. You have no appetite. But smoking will only make matters worse. Xiao Mei is trying to help.”
Birch knew that the servant girl had tried her best to make his favorite dishes. Even though he was in a foul mood, he wasn’t blind. He saw the affection in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean—”
“No, no, no. It’s okay.” She squatted to pick up the larger pieces of china. “I’m going to bring another bowl. I’ll clean up later.” She stood and left the room in a hurry.
General Bai pulled a chair close to the bed. “Son, what was that all about?”
“Mango…” Birch’s voice cracked. A low, mournful sound erupted from the back of his throat. “It’s Daisy’s favorite. I can’t…” His eyes clouded so fast he had to look away. He remembered buying mangos for his little sister whenever he came home. He loved to share them with her. Her smile had been sweeter than the fruit.
The father inhaled heavily. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for Daisy’s death. She would have died even if you didn’t... Her fate was sealed the moment she was captured. She would have died an undignified death. You know what happened to Jasmine. What she went through was painful and degrading. You saved Daisy. Don’t torment yourself.”
Birch lowered his head and shut his eyes, preventing his father from seeing the depth of his pain. His closed eyes were quivering behind his eyelids. When Danny was alive, he’d been able to transfer his love for his sister and cousin to the newfound brotherhood. Now that Danny was gone, he had nowhere to channel his emotions. As a result, his feelings of melancholy and guilt consumed him.
“I would have done the same—”
“Would you?”
“It took strength to do what you did. You are Daisy’s hero. She’d never blame you like you blame yourself. I’m sure that she was grateful to you, Birch!”
His father’s words didn’t cheer him.
General Bai bent closer. “Zhang xiong ru fu.” He repeated the phrase, “An elder brother is like a father. You’re the Big Brother. I understand you want to protect your younger brother and sisters. But Son, you couldn’t. You couldn’t even protect yourself.” The general expelled a hard breath. “You have to accept the reality—they are gone. You mustn’t dwell on it.” He put his hand on Birch’s arm. “But you can do something about the present and the future.”
“What can I do?” Birch’s eyes were empty.
“You can try to find Danny.”
“How?”
“If you want to find him, then eat and exercise. You’ll need a healthy body and a sharp mind. You know the Old Man has already contacted a hospital in California. He promised that you will get a state-of-the-art prosthetic limb. As soon as you’re well enough, you’ll have a leg.”
The Old Man was General Chennault, the U.S. Air Force commander in China. He knew the brothers; he was touched by their story and was willing to provide any assistance to Birch’s recovery.
“A prosthesis won’t be easy to get used to—it will hurt. But you can handle it. You are a Tiger.” General Bai squeezed Birch’s forearm. “Get well, Son. Go look for Danny. Search for Jasmine. They’re your brother and sister. And look for Jack. You’ve never met him. But if he’s Danny’s brother, he’s your brother too.”
His father’s words reminded him of the future that he and Danny had planned: searching for Jasmine, Jack, and other airmen. He remembered the sudden lift of spirit he’d felt when they talked about it in that grim prison cell. Now he was left alone, like the forlorn figure in Jasmine’s painting.
Birch considered hiring Linzi to help him, as Danny had suggested. The boy would surely accept the offer, but Linzi wasn’t his brother. Danny was not only Birch’s brother, he was his equal. How could he find the same support from a boy?
His father interrupted his thoughts with a sigh. “Birch, you’re lucky to be alive. So many others didn’t make it.”
The memory of Mr. Ding’s pleas on the night before his death crystallized in Birch’s mind. His frown deepened as the cold fact hit him: out of the dozens of people from the prison, he was the only one who had survived. If he didn’t deliver Mr. Ding’s message, his family would never know what had happened to him. Although Mr. Ding was a communist, they’d fought the same enemy. They’d been comrades and friends. He owed it to Mr. Ding to send his last words to his family.
In fact, each person in the room had introduced himself that night. What had Zhou Ming said? The Nationalist Army officer was from Chungking. His mother was the only one left in their family. But where did she live? Birch now regretted not paying more attention at the time.
I must write the letter. Now! He had to let Danny’s parents and sister know what had happened.
Not knowing what was on his son’s mind, the father continued, “There is much to be done. Don’t waste time. God knows it’ll be hard. But you can do it.” General Bai coughed into his fist and tightened the collar of his brown twill jacket before citing a proverb, “‘Nothing is hard in the world for a strong-minded man.’ You are such a man, Birch. Don’t wallow in your grief. Take one step at a time. A real Tiger never retreats from challenges.”
The general purposely let the silence stretch out, waiting for Birch to respond. When there was no response, he pressed on: “Daisy was always so proud of you. You’re her Big Tiger Brother. Jasmine believed in you. You’re the one who convinced her to live. And Danny trusted you. Remember your vow?”
“To die on the same day of the same month in the—”
“No,” his father cut him off. “I meant the part that Danny added. Remember?”
How could Birch forget? “If one survives,” Danny had said, “he’ll live to the fullest, for both.”
Birch sat up straighter, his chin tilted upward, a muscle in his jaw bunched. Although he was no longer a fighter pilot, he was still a warrior. It’s time to fight again.
His grief began to dissipate, replaced by a newfound fortitude. By the time Xiao Mei walked into the room with another tray in her hands, Birch had regained his composure. He watched her eyes brighten with an unexpected delight as she apparently noticed the change in his spirit.
Chapter 26
Spring slipped away and summer was fast approaching. Xiao Mei had not taken a day off for years, so when she asked permission, General Bai was more than happy to grant her request. “Take as much time as you need. You’ve worked so hard.” Still, Xiao Mei asked for only one day a month, the day after she was paid.
Wearing gray slacks, a forest green cotton blouse, and black cloth shoes, she stepped out of an ornately carved archway. These days, two stone lions were the only guards on duty at the Bai residence.
“Xiao Mei!” A young man stopped her at the door. Dressed in the Nationalist Army uniform, Wu Pan was twenty-five, of medium height, and well-built. His suntanned face bore witness to hours spent outdoors.
“Captain Wu,” Xiao Mei greeted him with a polite smile. A homemade purple-and-black patchwork bag crossed her chest. “Is this your day off, too?”
Wu Pan nodded. He’d guarded the Bai residence for two years before the general had retired. Since then, he’d spent all his days off at the residence.
“General is always happy to see you.”
“Going shopping?” he asked as he walked alongside, a silly grin on his face.
“Not today.” Xiao Mei didn’t have to go to the market often. Mrs. Bai had made arrangements with several peasants to bring fresh vegetables, eggs, and meat. Occasionally, Xiao Mei had to buy unusual ingredients, and even then she never had to go far.
“Where are you going?”
“To the city center.”
His gaze shifted from her face to her outfits. “Need new clothes?”
Xiao Mei shook her head. Her clothes were always clean, but most of them were getting old and the colors h
ad faded. She could certainly use new outfits.
“It doesn’t matter what you’re going to buy. I’ll go with you. The city isn’t safe. I’ll make sure no one—”
“No, you can’t.” The words tumbled out her mouth a bit too fast. Realizing her harsh tone, Xiao Mei softened her voice. “I’m sorry, you can’t come along. I’m going to…to the Buddhist temple. To pray to Guanyin, the Goddess of Mercy, for my family.”
“I see.” Captain Wu’s beaming smile faded, but he kept walking. “But you’ve never done that before. Your parents and brother passed away many years ago. I don’t remember you ever going to a temple.”
“I knew the ritual, but I didn’t understand how important it was until Auntie Liu told me,” Xiao Mei answered, referring to the part-time helper that General Bai had hired when Birch was in the coma. The middle-age woman was a devout Buddhist.
“Auntie Liu?”
“Yes. She said burning incense at a temple for the deceased would help them to shorten the wait for the next life. She does it regularly for her husband,” Xiao Mei recited the same excuse she’d used when General Bai asked.
Feeling a pang of guilt, she added a feeble smile to make the lie more palatable. “I want my loved ones to enter the next life as soon as possible.”
Accepting her explanation, the young captain flagged down a rickshaw for her. “Make sure she gets to the temple safely,” he told the puller as he kicked the wheel. “You hear me? You’ll be in big trouble if—”
“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen,” Xiao Mei interrupted him and stepped onto the rickshaw. But even as she said it, she knew the captain’s concern wasn’t farfetched. The city center was unsafe.
Two months earlier, she’d run into an anti-civil war demonstration orchestrated by college students. The march turned into a riot when the police and military authorities tried to disperse the crowd. The angry protesters threw rocks, sticks, and whatever else they could find at the policemen. Dozens of young people were beaten and arrested by the Nationalist government. Xiao Mei had retreated to a store in time to avoid being detained.
