by Mingmei Yip
‘Where?’
‘What’s the point in your knowing now?’ She picked up a towel and gently wiped my forehead. ‘Since you don’t even know who the father was, it’s better that you treat this whole thing like a bad dream and let it fade from your life. Camilla, you’re very young, and there will be many chances in the future for you to have babies with someone you love. Now let me cook some soup to revive you. You need to stay right here with me for now. Tomorrow, if you feel strong enough I will call your driver and amah to bring you home.’
I was so exhausted that I didn’t have any energy left to argue. So I said, ‘Thank you, Madame Lewinsky,’ and I fell asleep again. I slept restlessly, sometimes even imagining I heard a baby crying faintly.
When I woke up early the next morning, I told Lewinsky that I wanted to go home. To my surprise, this time she didn’t insist that I stay.
‘All right, if that’s what you want. I will come to visit you tomorrow and bring you some soup.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied, my voice feeble.
When my driver arrived, Lewinsky saw me off at the door, but her expression was strange. The whole atmosphere didn’t feel right to me. Where was my baby? If he was dead, where was the body?
Had I really just given birth to another life – or a death? Or had this all been a dream, an illusion, a failed magic show?
Why hadn’t Lewinsky let me see my baby boy, even dead?
I had never had a chance to call someone Mother, and now I had lost someone who would have called me that. My very bad karma.
26
Two Ceremonies
I told Lung by telephone the sad news that my baby was stillborn. To my surprise, instead of being furious at me or at fate, he asked nervously, ‘Was it a boy?’
‘Unfortunately it was, Master Lung.’
‘Hmm … that’s too bad.’
‘But, Master Lung, I promise next time I’ll give you a handsome and healthy boy.’
‘You’d better. You know, Camilla, since Jinying is worthless, I need a real son to inherit my business. If you give me a feng shui boy next time, then you’ll be my number one woman. You understand?’
‘Yes, Master Lung.’
Only towards the end of our conversation did Lung remember to ask about me. ‘Why didn’t you tell me when you lost the baby?’
‘Master Lung, it happened so suddenly, and you were away, remember?’
‘Then who helped you?’
‘My former singing teacher, a Russian woman.’
He didn’t respond to that, but said, ‘I’ll ask Zhu to send you some money to help you out.’
‘Thank you very much, Master Lung.’
‘All right, call me again when you’re fully recovered, and I’ll arrange a time for us to get back together.’
‘I will do that, Master Lung.’
After I hung up, I immediately dialled Big Brother Wang’s number.
Not to my surprise, my boss’s voice had no warmth nor his tone any sympathy. ‘I assume you’re fully recovered by now?’
‘Yes, Big Brother Wang.’
‘You realise you’ve already been Lung’s mistress for almost a year now? So you better get your job done before he gets tired of you.’
‘I’m so sorry, Big Brother Wang, but everything is so airtight around him, it’s really difficult—’
‘I don’t want excuses, only results. If you don’t deliver within a month, you will no longer be needed. And you know what will happen then!’ He paused, then asked, ‘Are you in love with this guy?’
My heart skipped a beat. At first I thought he meant Jinying, that he had found out about our relationship. When I realised he actually meant Lung, I had to bite my tongue hard so as not to burst out laughing.
I said calmly into the receiver, ‘Of course not.’
‘Good. Then I’d better read Lung’s obituary soon.’
‘Yes, Big Brother Wang. I promise he’ll be dead within a month.’
‘So, either him or you, you understand? And don’t forget his banking documents and the lists.’
‘I won’t, Big Brother Wang.’
As soon as I set down the phone, my whole body began to shake uncontrollably. Did Wang think that killing the most powerful gangster head was the same as swatting a fly, squashing a rat, shooting a pigeon? Somehow I had also to get Lung’s secret bank account numbers, his secret escape routes and his secret list of enemies to be assassinated. How was I, a nineteen-year-old girl, to achieve all these, and in thirty days? And Wang had been pretty clear about the consequence for me if I failed.
The last person I called to reveal my baby’s birth and death to was Jinying. I’d delayed telling him because I dreaded he’d be so upset, he would end up doing something drastic.
After I told him the horrible news, the young master insisted on coming to see me. Fearing that if I refused, he’d break down and tell his father, this time I agreed. However, I was not going to see him in my house or his, but in a cheap hotel room I’d book under a fake name. In addition, we’d both dress down, so the chance that we’d be recognised would be minimal.
Though Jinying was not happy about the cheap hotel, he seemed to forget about it as soon as we were alone together. I told him how Madame Lewinsky had helped me with the birth but that our baby boy had died. He listened quietly until I finished, then burst out crying, screaming and slamming his fists on the bed.
Before I could react, there were knockings on the thin wall, followed by a coarse male voice yelling from the other side, ‘Lower your fucking voice, won’t you?! You want everybody to know that you have a big dick and are fucking her hard, eh?’
Jinying willed himself to stop, wiping his tear-streaked face with a handkerchief. Finally he calmed down, pulled me to him, and rested his head on my chest.
‘Why didn’t you call me that day?’
I looked down at his sad face. ‘You know I couldn’t. I’d told your father the baby was his.’
The young master didn’t respond.
A long silence passed, and he said, ‘Let’s make love.’
‘Here and now? Why would you even suggest it?’
‘So we can have another baby.’
That was the last thing I needed now, so I told him it was too soon, that I was still sore.
A week later, I went back to sing at the Bright Moon. I was glad that my fans had not forgotten me; they greeted my return with flowers and cheers. A few even brought me jewellery and, best of all, American silver dollars and gold coins.
Many newspapers quoted a Chinese proverb to describe my admirers’ feelings: ‘A day without seeing you seems as long as three autumns.’
But Rainbow Chang’s article said something very different.
Camilla Came Back from Her Long Break
Finally, our beloved Heavenly Songbird Camilla has finished her vacation and begun to sing again. Though I am very glad that she has returned, I can’t help but wonder, why was she gone for so long?
According to what I’ve heard, there are three possibilities: a private vacation with her patron, Master Lung; treatment for some horrible disease; something that lasts for nine months.
Of course the last one is just from my wildest imagination. Because, if Camilla was pregnant, where is her baby?
The songstress’s absence reminds me of the other skeleton woman, the magician Shadow. What happened to her after Camilla accidentally sliced her finger? No one hears about her any more. Will she make a big comeback like Camilla did? Or will she use her own magic to disappear into thin air, this time forever?
Well, keep your eyes and ears ready for more news soon.
More to follow …
Rainbow Chang
I closed the newspaper and inhaled deeply to calm myself. If Rainbow Chang could really find out the truth, I’d be the ready-to-be-mincemeat on her chopping board. However, I couldn’t think of anyone who might have leaked the news. Lung would probably tell Zhu and Gao, but they were as tight-lipped as co
rpses. Wang never told anybody anything, but Jinying might go whining to a friend. Then I thought of Lewinsky. Would she tell? As far as I knew, very unlikely. So it must be just Rainbow’s conjecture. Thus reassuring myself, I felt a little better.
One evening when I was taking off my make-up in the Bright Moon’s dressing room, to my surprise, Gao came in.
He studied my reflection in the mirror. ‘Miss Camilla, please get ready quickly. I am here to take you to a Flying Dragons initiation ceremony.’
Of course this was an order, not a request or an invitation. I had heard of these initiation ceremonies but had never seen one, for it is something extremely secretive and esoteric. Outsiders would never be permitted even a glimpse. Women, deemed inferior with their polluted bodies, would offend the gods and so were absolutely forbidden to participate, lest the men’s pure yang energy be put off balance by the woman’s yin.
So I could not imagine why Lung wanted me to come to this very secret ritual. I asked Gao why he was doing so.
‘Because you are his lucky star. He believes your special qi keeps him alive, ever since the amulet you gave him stopped the bullet.’
Inside the car on the way to our destination – Gao wouldn’t say where – the head bodyguard cast me a deep glance in the rear-view mirror. ‘Miss Camilla, I’m very sorry about your baby.’
‘Thank you for your concern, Gao, but I’ve fully recovered.’ I paused, then asked again, ‘Why does Master Lung want me to attend this ceremony? I may be his lucky star, but he has never included me in something so secret before.’
‘It is because of your immortal boy.’
I knew this was a euphemistic way to refer to my dead baby.
‘How do so many people know about him?’ I felt alarmed but tried to stay calm.
He shook his head. ‘Just us, Miss Camilla. You don’t have to worry.’
‘But why are you taking me to this initiation ceremony now?’
‘Master Lung’s fortune-teller told him to hold a special ceremony for his son. A baby not given a proper burial will grow up in hell and one day come back to haunt his father.’
But if this were true, did it mean that my baby would come back to haunt Jinying? I felt tears sting my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall. ‘But, Gao, you still haven’t answered my question. What do I have to do with the initiation ceremony?’
‘During the ceremony, we make offerings to heaven, earth, the four directions, our protective gods and our ancestors. Master Lung will put a small statue of a baby on the altar and give him a name. In that way, your son will get offerings and respect, and his soul will be appeased. Then he will be content as he waits for his next incarnation.’
‘I am grateful that my son is being respected like this. Thank you for letting me know.’
‘You’re very welcome, Miss Camilla.’
Some silence passed before he said, his expression very tender, ‘Miss Camilla, I am so sad about your baby. And I worry about you all the time now.’
‘I’m fine, really.’ It would be disastrous if I let him probe further into the dangerous zones of my life. Then I suddenly realised that he must wonder if the son I’d lost was his!
‘Miss Camilla, but if you ever need anything, please let me know. You know I’ll do anything for you.’
‘I will, Gao,’ I said gently, ‘and thank you.’
The car gradually slowed to a stop, and I was surprised to see that we had stopped at the entrance of a cemetery. Gao hopped out of the car, went around to open my door, then held out his hand. I placed my small one in his much bigger, scarred one. He squeezed my fingers gently, and I could instantly feel my body being warmed by his strong, fervent love. Seconds later, he let go of my hand, then signalled me to walk with him to where the ceremony was to take place.
A bright full moon was set against a dark blue sky. Rows of graves loomed eerily in the distance, like pillows floating on a night sea. A rotten smell permeated my nostrils, and I hoped it was vegetation rather than corpses. Gao gently steered me by my elbow towards a group of people all dressed in black and moving around stiffly like ghosts. I widened my eyes to watch, in case beings from the other realm would sneak out from their resting places. Next Gao led me past two rows of people towards a makeshift altar. Tall white candles burned brightly in the gloom, rendering the cemetery even more surreal and haunting. I’d heard that it was in cemeteries that the Flying Dragons held their meetings, performed rituals and even carried out tortures. They faced no risk of discovery because at night the living Chinese would not dare pass through the land of their ghostly countrymen. Whatever was about to happen, I suddenly thought that I did not want to see it.
I spotted Zhu and nodded to him.
He nodded back. ‘Miss Camilla, tonight you will see what no other woman has ever been allowed to see. Master Lung invited only his most trusted people for the ceremony. Now stay right here, do not speak and do what you are told.’
Gao nodded to me, then walked to take his place with the others.
The Flying Dragons gang members were all dressed alike in black Western suits, black shirts and black ties. These hard-looking men formed two parallel rows, like a geese’s outstretched wings, flanking the makeshift altar. Lung sat in front of the altar facing south like a king, while his subordinates faced north towards him. The gangster head was also dressed in black except that his tie was red, showing his position as the boss. Once he saw me, he waved me to come to him.
Approaching him, I bowed. ‘Master Lung, good evening. I’m honoured to be invited here.’
‘Camilla, you’re very privileged to witness this ceremony tonight. Just watch and be silent.’ Both his expression and tone were cold and serious, with no trace of his usual jocular manner. ‘Now step back. I have something important to discuss with Mr Zhu.’
He didn’t mention ‘our’ dead baby, but in this blood-curdling situation I dared not disobey his injunction to silence.
After I backed away, Lung and his right-hand man conferred in solemn tones. I took the chance to study the different items on the huge altar: a painting of General Guan flanked by two famous historical figures, Zhang Fei and Liu Bei, sworn blood brothers with whom he had fought and won numerous battles. Above the painting a slogan was brushed in ancient calligraphy: Righteousness under heaven. On either side of this painting were numerous red papers with Chinese sayings in ink. These were fu, magic talismans that are only understood by Daoist priests who possess the power to communicate with the spirits of the dead and the gods. Gangsters, like most Chinese, believe these talismans will protect them from evil forces. Ironically, they never seem to realise that they themselves are the evil forces.
Resting on the altar were sumptuous offerings: flowers, fruits, plates of dyed-red longevity buns, even a whole roasted baby pig. Then my eyes landed on the back of the altar, where, almost hidden by the piles of offerings, was a small statue of a baby boy. Pasted on it was a small piece of paper with the characters: Lung’s son Jinxiong.
I wanted to blurt out, ‘It’s not your son, but your son’s, Jinying’s!’
I bit my tongue and pressed my lips tightly together. When the shock subdued, I felt tears stinging my eyes, but I blinked them back. Then it hit me that this child I’d lost was actually the grandson of Lung, the man I was supposed to kill. Why would heaven allot me such an impossible, horrible life? My body began to tremble involuntarily. But I bit my tongue and pinched my thigh hard until the shaking stopped.
Gao sauntered towards me, leaned close, and asked softly, ‘Miss Camilla, are you not feeling well?’
‘I’m fine. It’s just chilly and scary here in the cemetery.’ I managed to offer a half smile as I pulled my shawl tightly around my chest. ‘Please tend to more important things.’
‘You want my jacket?’
‘No, I’m really fine, thank you,’ I said, thinking silently, Are you out of your mind, offering me your jacket in front of everyone?
To distract him, I asked, ‘The yo
ung master is not here for the ceremony?’
Gao said, ‘He was not invited.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because Master Lung won’t let him see what’s going to happen tonight.’
‘Which is what, exactly?’
He ignored my question but gestured towards the baby statue. ‘Master Lung’s baby is here to receive his due respect and offerings. Thus his ghost will be empowered to fight his father’s enemies and protect his fortune.’
So Lung was using the dead baby for his own benefit, to turn a tragedy into something beneficial!
My thoughts were interrupted by a booming voice calling out something I couldn’t grasp. Suddenly, all the young initiates took off their shoes, socks and tops, revealing bared chests tattooed with soaring dragons. Then all went onto their knees and moved as if crawling through imaginary doors. They stood back up and swore loudly in unison:
‘We, members of the Flying Dragons gang, here, under the moon, swear our loyalty to the order and its sun and head, Master Lung. If we ever betray the master or this order, we step onto a path of no return. If caught, we will be beheaded and our souls forever condemned to burning hell. Even if we are able to quit the Flying Dragons with our heads on our shoulders, we will be murdered by bandits, or struck down by lightning …’
After this poisonous declaration, all the initiates went up to the altar and continued to swear, voices and expressions even more vehement.
Gao explained, ‘They are swearing the thirty-six oaths.’
‘After becoming a Flying Dragons member, I will treat my sworn brothers’ parents and relatives as my own. If I fail to do this, I will be struck dead by thunderbolts.
‘I will never disclose secrets of the Flying Dragons, not even to my wife, children or parents. If I fail in this, I will be impaled by ten thousand swords.
‘I will never steal cash or property from my sworn brothers. If I do this, I will be crushed by ten thousand boulders.
‘If I ever deny my membership and try to leave the Flying Dragons, I will be burned by ten thousand flames …’
