***
As if a hand had tapped her on the shoulder, Lee woke from a muddled sleep with a start. She could hear the driving rain against the window, the bamboo leaves scratching the window panes from the outside, as if they were saying, let me in, let me in, why don’t you let me in.
Lee turned her face into the pillow. She wanted to fall back into the dark sweetness of sleep. Her hands were folded next to her heart as if praying. Unclasping them, she reached one hand into her flannel nightgown to touch her jade pendant. The scratching noises would not let up, let me in, let me in.
Was it daybreak already? She wondered. The quilt was heavy and warm on top of her, pressing her down, securing her as if in an embrace. Yes, she was in her mother’s house, her Gugu’s house. She turned on her side and opened her eyes. The air around her was cold and gray. A veil through which she struggled to see. She could make out the shapes of the furniture in the room. On the other side of the room, Mary slept.
Thinking of Mary, Lee felt tentative again. Mary was not exactly friendly, but she was not unfriendly either. She remembered watching Mary’s small hands with their cleanly cut nails busily brushing the hair of her doll as she explained to Lee how it should be done. She had been showing off, of course and Lee had been duly impressed.
Mary herself was dressed like a doll. Lee wanted to loosen up her braids and comb through her hair slowly, a handful of strands at a time, feeling them silky between her fingers, the way her grandma had when combing Little Jade’s hair a long time ago. The smooth porcelain face of Mary’s golden-haired doll reminded Lee of the impassive, beautiful faces she had seen on statues of Guan Yin and the Madonna. But dolls are merely dolls. Playing with a friend, a sister, Lee thought, would be better than playing with dolls.
Lee got out of bed. She wrapped the quilt over herself clumsily and walked barefoot to the other side of the room. The floor felt smooth and icy under foot as she walked over to Mary’s bed. Mary was still sleeping soundly with one of her arms flung over the top of the quilt. Her doll slept against the wall next to her.
Lee stood next to her sister’s bed, looking down at her face. Mary’s hair was still in braids. She should not sleep with her hair bounded, Lee mused. It would cause the hair to break more easily. Lee studied the shape of her sister’s ears and she looked at her lips which protruded as if she were pouting. To better see Mary’s face, Lee bent over until she was only inches away from her sister’s face. She could feel Mary’s breathe warming the air between them. Lee held her own breath and was afraid to make a sound. Mary shifted her head toward the wall, her brows furrowed. Lee straightened up slowly, gathered the quilt about her, and crept back to her side of the room. Her cheeks felt warm all of the sudden, as if she had stolen something. She let out a sigh and climbed back into her bed.
***
That day Fourth Aunt showed up again. She introduced Lee to Mary’s tutors. They were to have private lessons together and be each other’s studying companions. There were two teachers, one old fashioned Chinese scholar for traditional Chinese literature lessons and a Western Catholic nun, Sister Anne, who would give them English lessons and teach Bible study. The Chinese tutor, Mr. Fu, was a skinny middle-aged man in a traditional blue gown and thick round glasses with a habitual frown. He always looked as he was about to endure something unbearable and painful. He was polite and not very demanding. After all, he was teaching the general’s daughters. Sister Anne wore a black habit and long black skirt all the way to her ankles with heavy leather shoes. She had brown hair shot through with gray, kind, light brown eyes, and a soft pink face. She spoke Chinese with a strong Western accent and taught the girls about the Virgin Mary, and the trinity of the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost. Lee was familiar with this cast of Biblical characters from her stay at the boarding school. She thought Sister Anne approved of her answers when she quizzed the two girls. Mary and Lee were competitive during the lessons. It soon became apparent that Lee was the more diligent student.
However, Mary knew many things that Lee knew nothing about. Lee had never been to a movie. Mary had seen many Western movies such as “Gone with the Wind” and “The Wizard of Oz.” She told Lee that she had liked watching “The Wizard of Oz” so much that she saw it at least three times. She had also attended modern, patriotic plays that were popular at the time. Mary also knew many popular songs and liked to sing along when she knew the lyrics. The radio was always playing on Mary’s side of the bedroom after lessons were done for the day. Mary liked to turn the volume up. She sat on her bed and sang to her doll. “The spring wind is soft and the peach blossoms are red, why don’t you come outside, Little Sister?” Lee kept quiet on her side of the room. Although Mary would often close the dividers that separated their respective spaces, Lee could hear everything. She could hear Mary talking to her doll and inviting her other toys to have a tea party. The other toys were a stuffed bear named Bao Bao and a wooden toy soldier named Private Jia. For the first two weeks that Lee lived in her Gugu’s house, Mary would play this way until the amah called them to dinner. Lee never once saw her Gugu or the general. She did not ask anyone where they were, not even Mary.
Often, Lee woke up in the early morning hours. Sometimes she would just stay in bed and look at the ceiling. Sometimes, she turned the lamp on and studied what she learned the day before. Most frequently, she went over to Mary’s side of the room to watch her sleep. It was the only time that she could study her sister closely. She knew better than to openly stare at Mary during the day. That wouldn’t be right especially since Lee knew that Mary had not taken a liking toward her. Once, Lee went as far as giving Mary a quick kiss while she was sleeping, lightly brushing her lips against Mary’s cheek. Lee loved her sister, but dared not, could not, show it.
***
One day the amah led Lee and Mary to the study. Gugu and the general were seated side by side on the leather sofa. Lee was surprised to see that General Tung was a handsome man with chiseled cheekbones and the square jaw of a movie star. He was in uniform. Three bronze stars shone on each of his shoulders. Next to him, Gugu looked plain in her white shirt and simple khaki pants. On top of the coffee table there were two gift-wrapped boxes.
Mary noticed the boxes right away. She ran to her parents and plopped herself between them. She pulled at the general’s arm and asked him whether the gifts were for her.
Gugu shot Mary a glance that silenced her, and said “Lee, come to meet your Gufu (uncle).”
Lee bowed her head and said, “Gufu, how are you?”
The general smiled generously at Lee, his eyes and his white teeth gleaming, and said “Good to meet you, Lee. I hope you have settled comfortably. Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured toward the sofa across from him, “Has Mary been showing you around?”
Lee sat down as instructed on the edge of the leather sofa across from them. She was looking at Gugu and Mary and noting the resemblance between them, around the eyes and nose, and especially the lips. Mary, facing the general, was becoming annoyed that he seemed to be paying more attention to Lee. Mary looked at Lee with sudden anger. She turned to her father. “I caught her playing with my doll,” she said.
“Is that so?” said the general. “Well, maybe she won’t need to do that anymore.” The general handed Lee the larger box across the coffee table.
“Go ahead, open it.” Gugu said, nodding at Lee to give her permission.
Lee hesitated for a moment, then tore open the wrapping paper and saw a doll looking at her from behind the glass paper box. She burst into a wide grin and looked up at the general and Gugu, who were watching her the entire time. It was such a surprise. Lee had never even dreamt of having such a precious present. The doll looked almost exactly like Mary’s except that she had chestnut brown hair and light brown eyes. She wore a dark green velvet dress with matching ribbons in her hair. Lee hugged the doll tight in her arms and could not stop smiling. She got up on her feet and bowed at the general and Gugu. “Thank you, Gugu,” she sa
id shyly. “Thank you, Gufu.”
The general also handed Mary a box. Mary quickly opened it and found a white stuffed rabbit wearing a pink dress inside. She leaned over and kissed the general on the cheek. General Tung put an arm around Mary. “You are the hostess here,” he said, “You should show Lee around to make her feel at home. She came from far away. The two of you are close in age and should be like sisters to one another.”
He turned to look at his wife as he said this. Gugu gave a slight approving nod and leaned back into the sofa. She looked tired. Just then, Lee realized that she was visibly pregnant, and her belly was protruding like half a melon as she lifted her feet to rest on the ottoman.
“Why don’t you two go and play dolls together?” said the general. “Your dolls can be best friends.”
Mary squeezed her plush rabbit against her cheek. “Is this all?” she asked the general. “Don’t you have anything else for me?”
The general reached into his pockets and took out two silver dollars. He gave one to Mary and one to Lee. It was another extravagant gesture. Lee knew, though Mary didn’t, that a silver dollar could feed a family for an entire week. Lee did not know what to do. She cupped the small disc of heavy silver coin in her hands. It was still warm from the general’s pocket.
Gugu looked at Mary and frowned. Mary stopped pulling at the general’s arm immediately. “Why don’t the two of you run along?” said Gugu. It was time to leave.
After she returned to her room, Lee sat on her bed and played with her doll. The doll looked at her with wide-open trusting eyes. To Lee, it was as if the doll was saying, “I am happy to be here with you.”
Her eyelashes were soft, her eyelids opened and closed, opened and closed, as Lee sat her up then lay her down on her bed repeatedly. Lee removed the green velvet ribbon from the doll’s head. The doll’s luscious brown curls fell through her fingers. Carefully, she combed the doll’s shining hair. On the other side of the room, Mary was having a grand tea party with her new plush rabbit, the brown bear BaoBao, Private Jia, and her doll. The radio was on at full volume. Mary sang and danced on her side of the room. “We’re off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz.” Mary did not invite Lee and her doll to join their party.
Lee needed a name for her doll. She decided to call her Little Princess Jade, Little Jade for short. If Lee couldn’t be Little Jade, then her doll could take the name. It was such a beautiful doll! Had Fourth Aunt told Gugu that Mary wouldn’t let Lee touch her doll? She wondered. Lee mulled over that very question as she took the doll in her arms and opened the door that led outside, and slipped through the door quietly. She stepped outside. It was just beginning to get dark. Dinner should be served anytime now, but Lee needed to get away from Mary’s tea party. Come with me, Little Jade. Lee said to the doll silently, come run away with me, just the two of us.
Lee followed the open corridor outside her room, tracing her steps back to the courtyard of the rock garden and bamboo lined path. The sky was high and empty. The air felt heavy and was tinted a deep blue. The wind was picking up and felt grainy when it hit Lee’s face. She walked against the wind with downcast eyes and hugged her doll with both arms under her padded jacket. As she walked she avoided people whenever she could: the nursemaid carrying a toddler in her arms, the soldier gardener lighting a cigarette, the amah carrying a kettle of hot water as she headed down the winding stone paths with their fan-shaped gates. No one seemed to notice her. She could be a ghost walking among them. Gradually, the sound of people faded further and further away. Lee had successfully evaded everyone. She stopped beside a flaming maple tree. Standing alone in an open space in a courtyard, she tried to determine the proper direction back to her room.
The courtyard was flanked by a wall of rooms topped with a roof covered with gray tiles. The rooms had windows and doors, but all of them were shut and dark. The dark windows looked foreboding. The final remnants of daylight were fading fast. The miniature stone mountains and tall maple trees had been clearly visible minutes ago but now were merely dark outlines against the sky. The leaves fell from the maple tree, spurred by the wind. One leaf, then two, then a hundred leaves rained down on her.
Lee hurried to a door at one end of the corridor. She tried to open the door but it was locked. She knocked on the door. “Open up, open up!” She called. No one answered. She ran back to where she had entered the courtyard and found it was also locked from the other side. Someone must have locked it after she entered. Clutching her precious doll in one arm, she pounded on the heavy wooden door with her free hand. “Open up! Open up! Please open up!” She shouted until she was hoarse. The wind was growing stronger, filling her lungs and chilling her from the inside.
She hugged her doll tight against her narrow chest with both arms and whispered. Don’t be afraid, Little Jade. I am right here with you. I will always be with you.
She wanted to return to the courtyard through the maze of stone paths but she feared that if she were to get lost in the maze, she would not be found for a long time. She knocked on the dark windows and locked doors but no one answered. She leaned against a huge door that faced the courtyard and slowly slid to the ground. She looked up beyond the ornately carved eaves and saw that the moon had risen, glazing bare branches, and the leaves that remained on the maple tree with a silvery glow. The wind had finally quieted down and the courtyard was now perfectly still. Lee kept looking at the moon. She couldn’t take her eyes away from it. Her head was growing heavier while her body was feeling lighter. Lee held tightly onto her doll. A doll will not die, will not leave, as long as she held on tight to her, just like now, like this, forever.
***
It was not until near bedtime that an amah noticed that Lee had not been seen for a while and could not be found. The maid and the amah asked each other, “Did you not see her at the dinner?” They asked Mary, who thought that Lee had gone to sleep after she played with the doll. Jen was about to go to sleep when she was informed that Lee had disappeared. She knew that Lee could not possibly leave the estate. She would have to pass two layers of guarded gates. The girl must be somewhere in the compound. Servants went around each courtyard with hand- held lanterns calling her name. It was near mid-night when a maid found Lee lying next to the door under the roof of an open corridor. Her hands and feet were cold and her lips were almost colorless. She was hugging her doll under her jacket. Lee was quickly moved to her bed where a maid covered her with warm blankets and massaged her arms and legs. Her forehead was burning hot. A doctor was called. A maid put the doll on top of the bureau in a sitting position. It looked down at Lee, whose face was red and whose mouth was dry. A maid dabbed Lee’s cracked lips with a corner of a handkerchief soaked in honeyed water from time to time.
***
With muffled, broken sounds in her ears, and pulsing light behind her eyes, Lee felt as if she was being awakened from having almost drowned. She struggled to rise to the surface of a deep dream. Her throat was dust dry and her lungs felt tight and she coughed weakly. Each cough shook her hard. A maid tried to steady her as she massaged her back, kneading it gently from time to time. Her eyes were blurry, as if glazed over by a film of water. As soon as her eyes opened, an amah turned and sent a maid running to tell the Mistress.
Someone asked Lee whether she wanted something to drink. Gasping with her mouth open, she nodded. Her mouth tasted sour and bitter. She took a sip of a lukewarm tea and closed her eyes again. She wanted to fall back into her dream where she had been lingering at the edge of the bamboo forest. She did not want to leave. It had been nice to be there.
“Young Miss, wake up. Wake up! Do you want to drink some ginseng chicken soup? You must be hungry. You have been sleeping for a long time.” The amah massaged Lee’s arm. The doctor told her that if the young lady wakes up, to be sure to keep her awake and feed her something nutritious. Hearing this, Lee opened her eyes again and nodded. Her hair was damp with sweat, but her fever was subsiding. Her weakened body felt as if i
t had been made of cotton batting. Lee was slowly drinking chicken soup from a bowl held to her lips by an amah when Jen entered the room. A maid pulled a chair for Jen to sit next to Lee’s bed. She watched her daughter swallow the soup thirstily. Lee was so thin. So frail. Look how thin she was: the maid could not get anything into her. Jen shook her head and felt heaviness in her heart.
“Gugu,” Lee struggled to sit up.
“Don’t move too much, you are very weak.” Jen said. She turned to a maid, “Go get the doctor,” she said.
Lee leaned back, looking at her mother. She was enormous, much larger than Lee remembered. The baby should arrive any day now. Her face looked puffy and she looked tired. Yet Lee could see concern in her face.
“Gugu, thank you for coming.” Lee was too weak to move her gaze, and she kept on staring at the woman in front of her. She felt her presence looming over her, like a giant shadow that comes toward the end of the day.
“No need to say ‘thank you’ between us,” Jen said quietly.
Jen had an envelope with her. Sitting in a chair beside Lee’s bed, she opened the envelope and pulled out a handful of photographs. Jen selected one photograph and handed it to Lee. It was a photograph of a young woman holding a newborn. Lee recognized that the young woman was Jen. “The baby is you.” Jen said. “Your father took the photograph when you were born.” Lee picked up the photograph with trembling fingers. It was a small photograph, but the image was clear. The mother was smiling, sitting in the hospital bed, and the baby was crying.
“You cried a lot as a baby.” Jen said gently, as Lee’s eyes blurred with tears. Jen handed Lee two more photographs. In them, the infant Little Jade was swaddled in a bundle and propped up against a pillow.
Daughter of the Bamboo Forest Page 21
