by Amy Kwei
Purple Jade assisted at Jade Bell’s birth, and Comely Brook was greatly comforted by her presence. The labor lasted ten hours, but the birth was completely natural; no instruments were used, and she was not given a sedative. Purple Jade gave her massages, and Dr. Rankling taught her deep breathing.
Purple Jade’s heart fluttered wildly as the baby’s head emerged. Tears coursed down her face, and she wanted to shout and sing at the miraculous sight. These days, her twittering restless feelings had been replaced by surges of sweet tenderness when she successfully assisted in deliveries.
The baby girl had Comely Brook’s sparkling big eyes, but Purple Jade felt Jade Bell was her special child, because she had been responsible for her birth in so many ways. The baby was also a symbol of her rebirth — her new life in medicine and self-reliance. Everyone in the family called the baby Little Jade.
Comely Brook wept upon learning that she had given birth to a girl. “I’ve been ungrateful! I did not give you an heir!”
“This is mostly my fault.” Purple Jade held her hand. “You expected a boy because I encouraged that thought.”
Purple Jade was determined to celebrate the birth as though the baby were a boy. Comely Brook and Little Jade stayed in the hospital for seven days, so they did not have the third day ceremony at home. The family sent red eggs to all the relatives in Shanghai. Lao Wang in Hangzhou also was instructed to distribute red eggs to their friends, relatives, servants, and tenant farmers.
Everyone found the baby adorable. At one week, she could already lift her head and stare with her big cow eyes. Shortly after one month, she lifted herself up on her arms and turned herself over! Following Western fashion, she was not wrapped in swaddling cloths, and Purple Jade was amazed to see how strong and healthy she appeared.
After all the fuss about wanting a son, Purple Jade was surprised that she was happy with another daughter. Gender seemed insignificant after the loss of her home in Hangzhou. Now her passion was her work.
In her free time, she loved to watch Little Jade. She had never felt free to watch her own two daughters as infants because she had been so anxious and always bedridden with pain. Now she was relaxed. Comely Brook was young and rich in milk. It was a sensual and satisfying experience just to watch her nurse. At two weeks, the baby had a face like a round peach. Purple Jade noticed a dimple on her right cheek when she cried or smiled, and her eyes were as bright as the West Lake on a clear autumn day.
The baby cooed and gurgled when she heard singing. Silver Bell sang to her by the hour, and asked if the baby could sit outside to watch her when she played jump house. She thought Jade Bell was much more fun than any of the dolls she’d ever had!
Cousin Chou Ling called one day and insisted that Purple Jade bring Comely Brook and the baby to her house for a game of mahjong. All her women friends wanted to see Jade Bell. Purple Jade could not refuse. She did not want to appear superior, giving herself the air of a snobbish “doctor.”
When she entered the main hall that evening, Mrs. Chang rushed forward to examine Jade Bell nestling in Comely Brook’s arms. All through dinner, the ladies gave favorable comments:
“What a lovely doll!”
“How soft and milk-fragrant she is!”
“How alert she is when she is awake!”
“She seldom cries.”
“She already knows her family.”
“She smiles when anyone talks to her!”
Throughout the evening, Mrs. Chang tried to draw Purple Jade’s attention to her own pallid, sickly four-year-old son, seated on the lap of his nursemaid in a corner near the window. The boy frequently hid himself behind the blue chintz curtains and seemed disinclined to play. When he spoke, he lisped. He refused to look anyone in the eye. When he whined for his mother, she hovered over him. He had a raspy cough and runny nose. Mrs. Chang lamented that no medicine seemed to help his chronic condition.
Purple Jade wondered why Mrs. Chang wanted to display the poor listless boy. The child would be always at a disadvantage in any society. Was Mrs. Chang perversely using this strategy to deny his infirmity? It embarrassed Purple Jade to receive compliments for Jade Bell in front of Mrs. Chang. Most guests avoided the boy. Various opinions were whispered concerning his behavior.
“This boy has tuberculosis.”
“He is mentally deficient!”
“He may have been born with ill fate!”
“He may not live long!”
Once dinner was over, Comely Brook was sent home with her sleepy daughter. Mrs. Chang asked, “Jade, since Orchid’s baby is female, will you pledge her to me as a future daughter-in-law?”
Purple Jade felt chilled by such a horrible prospect. She shrugged to disguise her panic. She was unable to respond. She assumed Mrs. Chang was acting out of kindness, since everyone knew that the Huangs had wanted a son. A family that already had two daughters would be eager and grateful to get rid of a concubine’s daughter.
Mrs. Chang had also called Comely Brook, Orchid — a pointed reminder that the baby came from a worthless maid. She offered a modest bride price, though very generous, considering it was wartime.
Absorbed by her mahjong game, Mrs. Chang mistook Purple Jade’s silence for consent. She said, “We shall have to choose an auspicious day to formalize the troth.”
Purple Jade was cold with fury. She knew that Mrs. Chang was behaving properly according to the old traditions — ensuring for herself the services of a future daughter-in-law despite the poor chances of her son’s survival. She mustered all her self-control to thank Mrs. Chang. “But my master is a liberal, modern man. He would not approve.”
“Huh . . .” Mrs. Chang huffed. “Your husband likes to turn away good fortune. He left his factory to go to Hong Kong, didn’t he? Well, what can you do?”
Purple Jade lowered her head and did not answer. The other women probably thought she was embarrassed, but she noted in her mind: I’ve come to admire my husband’s Western ideas. I have changed. I would feel totally heartless to take Little Jade away from Comely Brook and give her to a sick little boy. Should the boy become an invalid or dies, the baby will be Mrs. Chang’s slave for the rest of her life. Purple Jade paled at the thought. Yes, I would be proud if all MY three daughters became doctors like Dr. Rankling.
Glorious Dragon took all the cocoons from the house to their factory. The factory sent back a beautiful piece of silvery gray silk. Held in the sun, the silk shone with light shades of the rainbow. Since the cloth was more than three yards long, they sent Righteous Virtue a very large square in which to wrap his poems. The rest was made into three scarves. Comely Brook embroidered a rose on the scarf for Golden Bell, and Purple Jade embroidered a peony on the scarf for Silver Bell. Later, she also embroidered an orchid on the scarf for Jade Bell.
Purple Jade was happy to see Golden Bell and Silver Bell spend more time together. The Japanese girl next door was obviously lonely, but Purple Jade could not allow a friendship. With Little Jade in excellent health, Purple Jade felt it was time to leave Shanghai, and join her husband in Hong Kong. She knew she would miss her associations with Dr. Tsui and Dr. Rankling, but her place was by her husband. A family needed its master, and her husband had been pleading for a family reunion.
Iris agreed to live in their house while they were gone. Purple Jade told her husband that she favored the house on Blue Pool Road in Hong Kong because she was still uneasy in high buildings. Glorious Dragon had taken them to the Palace Hotel on the Bund. The tall building and the elevators made her stomach flutter. Though the view was outstanding, she felt she was perched on a cloud. Her small feet had grown larger, but the bones of her last two toes were permanently crushed, and she would always be unsteady on her feet.
The girls were increasingly in awe to see the change in their mother. She had always been poised and self-possessed, but now she was more confident — not so unnecessarily deferential. Her friendship with Dr. Rankling had altered her entire outlook on women’s place in the world,
and her daughters were impressed. Still, life was different without their father. When Uncle Dragon came, he took everyone to tea in the hotels and to watch people dance. Sometimes their mother and Comely Brook accompanied them to the movies, but Purple Jade refused to give parties on birthdays and other celebrations when the master was not present. She was careful not to broadcast themselves as a household of women. They all understood that their society was not ready to accept a woman as the head of a family. Everyone was ready to go to Hong Kong. They could hardly wait!
IN EARLY JULY 1938, the Huang women and children, including Winter Plum, left Shanghai by steamship. Everyone was seasick, but the young ones soon adjusted to the lulling motions. For most of the journey, Purple Jade stayed in bed.
The ship sailed into Hong Kong Harbor before dawn. They were so excited; none of them could sleep. The girls came on deck and clutched the railings.
“Sarah, look!” Golden Bell cried. “There is Hong Kong Island.” The girls had agreed to practice using their English names, even when they spoke in Chinese.
“Oh, Vicky.” Silver Bell sucked in the bracing salt air. “Hong Kong looks like the Christmas tree in school!” She hugged herself. “This is a fairy land! Look at all those rows and clusters of lights going up to the top of the mountain!”
“It is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen! This must be a tropical paradise!” Golden Bell pulled her gray silk scarf over her head.
“Oh, I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it!” Silver Bell stood on one foot and then another, and did a little hop and dance. “I wonder if Father is waiting for us down there in the morning chill.”
“He’s probably just finishing work. Remember, he works for the newspapers.”
“Look, the tug boats are coming to guide us to the dock.”
When the ship finally docked, the passengers had finished their breakfast. Customs, immigration, and police officers trooped on board. The Caucasian officers in their crisp, neat uniforms impressed the girls. The immigration officials wore spotless white. The police wore khaki shorts and short-sleeved shirts. Each police officer carried a revolver, slung casually from his belt.
In the lounge, a long line of Chinese awaited an inspection of papers. The air turned hot and stifling under the mid-morning sun. “So hot and sticky!” Comely Brook said to Plum Blossom. They took turns fanning the baby and Purple Jade. Children whimpered and adults fidgeted, chatting in subdued irritation. Droning electric fans muffled their mounting noise. The khaki-clad policeman brandished his nightstick barking, “Please stay in your queue! Stay in your queue!”
A family of Europeans entered. They walked straight to the front of the line, where the white officers smiled and greeted them and processed their papers immediately.
“Why aren’t they lining up like everyone else?” Silver Bell asked.
“They must be important people,” replied Purple Jade.
“No.” Silver Bell wiped her forehead. “I played with their little girl yesterday. She said her father is a clerk in the Jardines Company.”
Still another European family was given preferential treatment.
“Whites are treated differently here.” Golden Bell clenched her fist.
“Speak quietly, children.” Her mother shaded her eyes against the intense tropical sunlight. “I’ve heard of the white man’s arrogance. These people are not like Dr. Rankling and Miss Tyler. Hong Kong might be different because it is a British colony.”
“Most people are Chinese, so what’s the difference?” Silver Bell pouted.
“The difference is that Great Britain is not at war with the East Ocean Devils.” She fought an impulse to close her eyes—not knowing whether it was the indignities or the glaring light that pained her. “Anyway, it is imprudent to display your emotions. If you want to see your father again, please keep quiet.”
Both girls fell silent. Another European appeared. He directed a porter with two cartloads of boxes, stamped with bold letters: “FRAGILE!” “ANTIQUES!” “HANDLE WITH CARE!” He held out a stack of papers for the customs officials, who shunted aside a waiting Chinese family. It was obvious that the white man would not trust his precious cargo to the luggage handlers. He was going to take a long time to go through customs. The Chinese in the long line began to murmur and fidget. The officer held out his nightstick with both hands. Extending it in front of his chest, he continued to shout: “Stay in your queue, stay in your queue.”
The Huang girls grew sullen and peevish. Their morning vision of living in a tropical paradise vanished, and the heat and humidity intensified their bitter realization that they were once again a subjugated people — second-class citizens in their own land.
“Number-one boy!” The haughty police inspector snapped his fingers at a middle-aged ship steward wearing a white Chinese jacket. “Bring lemonade for everyone. We’ll have many more hours of processing here.” He scowled at the line of Chinese.
Silver Bell asked, “Why does he call that man a ‘boy’?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps he made a mistake.” Her sister edged toward a shady spot between the lounge windows. “I’d love some lemonade.”
“Look at all the hair on that foreign devil’s arms and legs!” Winter Plum whispered to Comely Brook.
“It is no wonder we call them barbarians,” Comely Brook replied under her breath.
“Don’t get near them. They smell to high heavens!” Winter Plum tried to sound superior to counteract the arrogance of the white men. She fanned herself.
“When people have active sweat glands, it is difficult for them to control their odor. That would apply to the Chinese as well.” Purple Jade motioned toward everyone on line.
Comely Brook eyed the hairy inspector with disgust. “The barbarians smell particularly bad when they’ve had whiskey and raw meat!”
“The barbarians also take meticulous care to stay clean and neat. We Chinese have a great deal to learn from them.” Purple Jade spoke somberly, remembering the antiseptic smell and sparkling orderliness of Dr. Rankling’s hospital.
“Number-one boy, get more boys to help you serve!” The officer commanded as the steward came forward pushing a cart loaded with glasses and several pitchers of lemonade. The steward looked vacant. He did not move.
“Go!” the officer bellowed. His face deepened in color. “These Chinese have to be taught everything?”
His remark ruffled a man behind the Huang family. He asked in a clear voice: “How is it possible that these people came from around the world to buy our antiques, but think we need to be taught everything?”
When the steward left, a thin Chinese man in a Sun Yat-sen suit spoke, “Brothers and sisters of our country, let’s help ourselves. Since there aren’t enough glasses, each family will share one or two.”
People mumbled. The cart was pushed up and down the line as the Chinese helped themselves to the lemonade.
When the steward returned with several helpers, they were no longer needed. The officer pretended he hadn’t noticed. The steward came forward, bowed, and asked with exaggerated courtesy, “Sir, is there anything else I may do for you?” To the Chinese he gave a sidelong glance of pleasure.
“Bring the officers some iced tea,” the officer barked. He strode away.
A man behind them spoke to the Huangs. “The white officer acts like a petulant child.” He tilted his goatee toward him. “His arrogance is irritating everyone. The British masters are foolish to alienate the natives at this time.”
“He called the steward a ’number-one boy’ as if he were a superior master.” Golden Bell seethed.
“No, young lady,” the man replied. “The superior master would call a servant ‘old Chen’ or ‘old Wong,’ because he knows that a servant given dignity will render good service. When a man is called a boy, he is robbed of his manhood, and someday he will behave like an irresponsible boy. The officer is sitting on a volcano here.”
The man bowed to Purple Jade: “I’m Shih Tar Hai, from
Jiang Su Province. My business is in Shanghai. I’m going to buy English wool in Hong Kong.”
“Most happy to meet you, Mr. Shih.” Purple Jade returned the bow. “My husband works for the New Island Daily News here. Thank you for enlightening our daughters.”
“Did you say Hong Kong is a volcano?” Silver Bell asked, wide-eyed with alarm.
“Bow to Shih ba-ba first, Silver Bell,” Purple Jade reminded her.
“Shih Ba-ba.” Silver Bell bowed. “Are we on a volcano?”
Golden Bell shook her upturned hands in exasperation. “Not your kind of volcano!”
Mr. Shih smiled. “Native discontent can create an explosive situation. The white man must have the cooperation of the Chinese if he wishes to remain here.”
“I hope they get our cooperation,” Purple Jade mumbled. “The British are so haughty. The Japanese promised us a ‘co-prosperity sphere.’ No wonder so many Chinese want to cooperate with them.”
“Oh yes, that is just what Mr. Kam . . . said.” Golden Bell checked herself just in time. She turned quickly to face the customs table. “Why, it is almost our turn.”
She need not have worried that her mother would discover the identity of Mr. Kamasaki. Looking out the window, over the custom officers’ heads, Purple Jade’s heart swelled as she caught sight of her husband pacing on the far side of the dock. The straw-colored bowler hat was uncharacteristic, but the simple cream-colored Chinese robe was unmistakable. The way the hands were held — gently knotted in the back — the slow pacing with the abrupt turn were distinctive. Purple Jade’s months of loneliness, the sense of her solitary burden, and the memory of the nauseating ocean passage evaporated. She stared for a whole minute as if her breath had failed her. Totally unselfconscious, she stretched both arms before her and let out a soft moan, her eyes welling with tears. The eyes of her family followed her yearning arms, and the girls began to shriek in recognition.
Golden Bell’s excellent English sped up the immigration process. They were soon cleared for disembarkation.
