by Lin Zhe
The children were too young. They didn’t understand how the adults could have gotten so panicky and lost their self-control. Baosheng stepped on Baohua’s little leather shoes and the two of them started quarrelling. Baosheng said, “Ma likes you the best. When there’s nothing to eat at home, she still buys you shoes.” Baohua said, “The money that Daddy sends is all for me!” But Baoqing, who was not yet seven years old, was like a little grown-up. Stretching forth his chubby hand, he wiped away his mother’s tears and said, “Ma, don’t be scared. When I grow up I’m going to earn a lot of money and buy you flatcakes and clothes to wear, and leather shoes also for Big Sister.” Second Sister took Baoqing in her arms. The relatives all said that she loved her little son the best. He was the little man of this family. Many times, he would quite consciously assume a father’s role, comforting and supporting his mother. This little boy was so accommodating and good at understanding what other people wanted, how could his mother not love him until her heart just ached?
The people of Old Town had never seen real guns or cannons and couldn’t bear this sort of fright. Though not a single person died from the air raid’s explosions that day, several people died out of sheer fright. There was one eighty-year-old lady on Stipend Lane who had a son who was an official. When she celebrated her great sixtieth birthday, he gave her a coffin of the very best wood. This coffin was a great delight to her. Every year she had a painter come and lay on a fresh, full coat of varnish. But all the upheaval and chaos of war made her worry that she wouldn’t get the chance to enjoy the use of her beloved coffin. Three days after the air raid, the old lady hanged herself and was laid out in her coffin and put to rest in the ground, all before Old Town itself was destroyed.
The Japanese planes had gone but they left behind a miasma of terror, and it was this terror, like an unstoppable plague, that brought Old Town down. By spreading the wings of their imagination, and treating imagination as absolute fact, people quite unconsciously did everything that would magnify fear. Rumors arose on all sides. Everyone suffered from such rumors and yet everyone invented them. Today it was reported that the Japanese were approaching from the sea. Tomorrow it would be said they had already arrived at Old Mountain. Old Town had relied forever on those endless mountain ranges to hide from war. Because of the airplanes, Old Town no longer had this protective screen. Several people back from the north told vivid and graphic stories of how the blue-faced and long-fanged Japanese raped and killed women, cooked and ate children, and how they chopped old folks into mincemeat and threw their remains into the rivers to feed the fish. Up north there was a big city called Nanjing that experienced just such calamities. There, after several years, the river waters were still running red.
The old sayings about cranes crying out at the whistling wind and enemies seen in every bush and tree describe just how jittery everyone was. For several days, the air raid siren at the corner of West Street would perversely go off, crazily sounding out several blasts from time to time, and even if it was just for a fleeting moment, this could lead to devastating panic. Men and women, the old and young, would dash about pell-mell, covering their heads with their arms.
The great catastrophe was approaching. When they see a bow, birds will fly off in all directions. One by one, the six tables in the back hall of the Lin home now became empty. Big Sister-in-Law and Eldest Brother Lin left Old Town for a mountain district about a hundred miles to the north where a serving girl, once part of Big Sister-in-Law’s dowry, now lived. Second Brother Lin and all of his household sought refuge in the home of his wife’s aunt. This woman’s husband was working in a porcelain kiln near the border of another province. The ways of the world were all changing now. While “such-and-such” may have been the case previously, now things were totally different. In the past, country cousins were a burden on their moneyed relatives, and just thinking about them was enough to bring on a headache. Now, though, having relatives in the countryside was the greatest bit of good fortune one could have. Being the first to wrap up one’s valuables and escape disaster was as enviable as going up to the capital to take the old imperial examinations.
Grandma could have chosen quite a few places to go to. Before she herself fled, her big sister had sent her rickshaw puller over to her home, but Second Sister didn’t want to leave. Ah Shui, the loquat seller, also tried to persuade her to go to his home. Her own family members had sent any number of messages welcoming her and her three children to stay with them. But she declined with thanks one invitation after the other, and closing the doors and watching over her three children, she calmly faced life or death. Underneath the kitchen cupboard there was a little jar of white arsenic, quite enough to end ten lives. If the Japanese really did come to their door, she would lead her children out of this world.
Several decades later, when speaking of that jar of arsenic, Grandma’s face still took on a heroic and stern look, as if that poison had been a magic sword that could destroy calamity and ward off harm. By that time, she was already more than eighty years old, but she didn’t actually feel lucky or proud about having reached this age now that my grandfather was no longer alive. Every day she awaited the Lord’s call. Sometimes she would resent God for having forgotten her. She had a group of old card-playing friends and they often got together to play paijiu. This group of more than ten old folks diminished one by one. Today someone might be at the table getting all worked up over winning or losing a few fen. Tomorrow that person may no longer be there. My grandma was one of the people in this little group who had lived the longest. She told me that during that earlier time she had felt no hope at all, what with my grandfather having been away for more than three years. She thought that only by going to heaven could she see him again.
The Lin mansion was like a theatre whose audience had all left. Removing her costume and going on “actors’ strike” gave Second Sister an unaccustomed feeling of relief. From the time that she had first made up the lie that Ninth Brother was doing just fine out there, every day she had to create new lies to cover up and maintain the first one. Now there was no longer any need for lying. Now she didn’t have to force herself to beat her cheeks swollen to look well fed, or put on a big act of buying a little meat to keep turning and frying to send the fragrance wafting out of the pan until it was almost ruined before letting the children eat it. No need to scrunch under the oil lamp at night to do sewing to earn a little change and still pretend to be to the manner born. Every time her relatives came to her for help to cover their daily needs, she would tuck her coins and small bills into her clothing and take these to a money house to change into big bills. Big bills would prove that Ninth Brother was still sending money home every month. With the burden of children to care for, if she broke off a tooth, so to speak, she just had to swallow it. And that was the way she made it through those three or four years. Now, though, she was really just too tired. She didn’t have the strength to become a homeless destitute, a refugee.
All the tailoring shops along the streets were now closed. With no sewing work to be had, Second Sister extinguished the lamp and went to sleep much earlier. Her mind was a blank and so she slept very soundly.
Suddenly, the front door opened with a creak. Next, footsteps sounded on the hall floorboards. This she found quite puzzling. The doors and windows had been shut for several days now. Don’t tell me that naughty Baosheng has slipped out to play and forgotten to close the door. As she was thinking of going out to see for herself, the door to the bedroom was pushed open and in came Ninth Brother, wearing his military uniform, and looking very angry. He sat down in the cane chair by the bedstead, his barracks cap held in his hand.
She didn’t feel this was any soul-stirring reunion. It was as if her husband had just returned from treating some patient. She said, “Ninth Brother, are you hungry? I’ll make some sweet rice dumplings for you.”
Her feet had barely touched her soft-soled embroidered slippers when Ninth Brother stopped her in his grip.
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nbsp; “I never thought you’d be so cruel as to actually consider poisoning my children!”
Second Sister was stunned. Dimly, the thought of the arsenic under the cupboard registered in her. But she couldn’t remember whether or not she had already poisoned the children. She ran barefooted into the next room. The two boys were curled up like a heap of prawns. Baohua was on the other bed, just turning over and softly grinding her teeth. Retracing her steps, she said with some resentment, “Ninth Brother, you frightened me almost to death.”
The cane chair at the head of the bed was empty. There simply was no trace of Ninth Brother. Second Sister was so scared that her teeth chattered. It’s all over. Ninth Brother’s dead. That was his ghost floating across the many leagues of rivers and mountains to return to this house. She slid down the doorframe onto the threshold. No, no! We are God’s children. When we die, we return to our heavenly home. We won’t be stranded in this world as lonely spirits and wandering ghosts. Surely, our Heavenly Father sent the Holy Spirit to tell me: “You have no right to end the lives I have given to you. You must patiently wait for your husband.” I was out of my mind, I think. I was really out of my mind. How could I, with my own hands, have poisoned my three little angels? Even if it was just a fleeting thought in my mind, it was an unpardonable sin. O Heavenly Father, forgive me that moment of weakness.
When dawn came and the children got out of bed, they saw that their mother had already fixed four cloth bundles. When they realized this meant a long trip, each of them excitedly chose favorite toys and stuffed them into the bundles.
Second Sister’s own mother and younger brothers hadn’t any plan to flee the coming disaster. For them death was no great matter. Such indomitable spirit truly still reflected something of the General Guo Ziyi style. The mother could not bear to part with the old Guo residence. “Monks can flee the monastery, but the monastery can’t run off too,” she said. If she were going to die, then she would just die in her own house. Second Sister’s first younger brother couldn’t stand the idea of no more strong drink for him if they fled. He would rather stick around West Street. “Wine is for drinking” is how he looked at life. His wife had used her dowry money to open a small variety store in front of their house. There was enough wine in stock there for him to drink for a year and a half. As for Second Brother, after hitting it off with a girl from the pleasure quarters, he vanished from the scene, to where no one knew. His wife took their daughter and returned to her own home. People said she suffered from “peach epilepsy,” for when the peach flowers were in blossom, she would fall senseless. Grandma’s third younger brother was the one that had won their mother’s heart. Not long after Ninth Brother had gone off, this young man was about to be married when he suddenly died of the measles. This was a heartbreaking event for Second Sister and all her family. Second Sister’s fourth and fifth brothers were still quite young. Normally, First Brother’s wife handled the household affairs, but whenever she encountered any important problem, Second Sister would have to step forward bravely to play the mainstay role. When all her sisters-in-law were hard up for money, it was to Second Sister that they would go. If the sky fell down on the Guo home, Second Sister was the one to prop it up. Up to that time, no one at her old family home knew that she hadn’t received a single bit of news from Ninth Brother in over two years.
Second Sister returned to West Street, bringing her children with her. There was no need to discuss anything. People who assume responsibility have the authority to make decisions. “Let’s go. We’ll head west to the mountain district and look for Uncle.” “I’m not going,” her mother said, “but you go ahead and take Fourth Brother and Fifth Brother with you.” Second Sister didn’t waste any more words. She just rolled back her sleeves and set to rummaging through boxes and closets and organizing the valuable items.
All the arrangements were completed. Second Sister wanted to go to the church to say good-bye to Pastor Chen as well as to go outside West Gate to find sedan chair carriers. With those tiny, three-inch bound feet her mother would surely need a sedan chair.
As always, Pastor and Mrs. Chen prayed for Second Sister. Second Sister left her uncle’s address with them and urged them to make early arrangements to get out of Old Town. As she was writing down the address, Second Sister thought of Ninth Brother. If Ninth Brother returns and can’t find his wife and children, he would definitely go to the Chens.
On the road, the little column of Guo family refugees had not yet passed through the city district when First Brother had already drunk a little flagon of liquor to the last drop. He roared out and staggered around with the empty vessel clutched in his hand. “I’m not going on…Nothing more to drink…I…I can’t make it…The little Japs…This guy won’t make it.”
Second Sister made the sedan carriers stop and asked his wife, “What do you think we should do?”
“Let him stay. Just look at him! He can’t go for one minute without drinking. Even if we go on five or ten miles, he’ll be making a lot of fuss about wanting to go home.” The woman glanced at the sedan chair. Her son, six-year-old Gan’er, was sitting with his granny. “Second Sister, please take Gan’er for us.”
“Don’t worry about Gan’er. If you two aren’t coming with us, you’ll need to find a place to hide.”
“Bombs may not get him, but without something to drink he’ll die for sure. It’s really no good at all. I’ll take him back to my home. All in all, it should be a bit safer in the countryside than in town.”
First Brother’s wife’s own home was in the countryside east of the Yangzi. There, most people lived by raising silkworms, and groves of mulberry trees shaded all the buildings in the villages. Could they get lucky maybe and escape the awful war? Second Sister thought of how straitened her own finances were. There was no way they would be able to buy drink for him along the way, so she hardened her heart and said, “All right, just take him to your home, and bring all the drink you have in inventory with you. Take good care of yourselves.”
Mother Guo stuck her head out of the sedan chair, “What’s going on with First Brother?”
“Nothing. They’re both going back home to get some things. They’ll be catching up again in a little while.”
And with that, Second Sister waved her hand at the carriers. “Lift the chairs. Let’s get moving.”
2.
AS THE SUN’S rays slanted from the west, all the Guos, young and old, rested by a brook at the foot of Old Mountain. This was Old Town’s scenic spot, with its emerald-green mountain range and its limpid streams. Many-hued goose-egg stones under the water glowed in the light of the setting sun. Ninth Brother had loved mountain streams. When they were newly wed, he would take Second Sister rambling through all the nooks and crannies in Old Town’s outlying districts. It was on one of those huge goose-egg stones that Ninth Brother, eyes filmed over in a kind of intoxication, had embraced her and, with much head-bobbing and swaying, chanted poetry improvised by him then and there.
The sight of this place struck a chord within her and her eyes grew misty as she recalled Ninth Brother. She sat on the goose-egg stone and absentmindedly wetted a towel to clean her children’s faces. Baosheng was playing with his slingshot off to one side. Second Sister had wiped his face repeatedly.
Just then, Gan’er wanted to suckle and, not finding his mother, burst out crying. At six years old, this child had still not been fully weaned. Whenever he thought about it, he would run into the kitchen and lift up the front of his mother’s blouse to take a few sucks. The old lady in her sedan chair did magic tricks producing olives, haws, and mung bean cakes, and the most appetizing of all, pork floss. One by one, these were popped into Gan’er’s mouth, but none of these quelled the racket he was making.
Clumsy and lumpish Gan’er was the heart’s delight of Old Lady Guo. Gan’er was already three when he took his first tottering steps, and only when he was four did he say “Dad” and “Ma.” In those days, no one knew about proper pregnancy and birth ca
re, or that alcohol in the father’s blood could sear the child’s brain cells. In her lifetime, Old Lady Guo had had her heart broken by her several sons. Her daughters, though, had given her more good luck than she could enjoy, but that was not enough to make her change her view of the primacy of boys. She said Gan’er’s difficulty in opening his “golden” mouth was a sign of great fortune and honor later on. She also said that ten “thousand gold pieces,” that is, ten girls, could never match even one idiot son.15 A few years earlier, she had favored Second Sister’s two boys. Whenever there were a few tasty things around, she would tuck them away for these grandsons to eat. She would often quietly call them into her room and, with a trembling hand, reach for snacks at her bedstead that she would give them behind Second Sister’s back. But now that she had a grandson bearing her own married name, the ones who didn’t were, in her mind, well-named as “outside” grandsons. Whenever the three children visited their grandma’s house, they often watched with staring eyes as their granny stuffed all kinds of good things into Gan’er’s mouth, while not even a crumb went into theirs.
Baoqing stood to the side, staring spellbound at a few wisps of pork floss lying on the ground. “Granny, some pork floss has fallen down. I’ll help pick it up, all right?” Picking it up he wanted to stuff the floss into his mouth but he didn’t dare to. Clicking his tongue and swallowing his saliva, he then loudly said, “Granny, the floss is all picked up.”
The old lady grabbed the floss from Baoqing’s hand and put it into Gan’er’s mouth. Baoqing sucked at the fragrance left on his fingers and said, “Granny, when I get big, I’ll buy you pork floss to eat.”
