He walked through the trees until he came to the clearing where Monkey, Fox, and Rabbit lived. When the creatures saw him, they looked up at him with bright, shining eyes.
“Good day, sir,” Rabbit said. “How do you do?”
“Welcome to our forest,” said Monkey, and Fox bowed low.
“Oh, friends,” the Old Man said, leaning heavily on his walking stick. “I’m not doing well. I am old and poor, and I am very hungry. Do you think you could help me?”
“Of course we’ll help,” Monkey chattered.
“We always help our friends,” Fox agreed.
“We’ll fetch some food for you,” Rabbit added, and without a moment’s hesitation, the three ran off, each one in search of food to offer the poor beggar.
The Old Man sat down and leaned against a tree. Looking up into his sky, he smiled.
These are good animals, he thought. And I am curious to see who is most generous.
Before long Monkey returned, carrying an armload of fruit.
“Here you are,” Monkey said. “The bananas and berries are delicious. And take these oranges too, and these pears. I hope you will enjoy my gift.” He laid his fruit before the beggar.
“Thank you, my friend. You are kind,” the beggar said. Before he had finished speaking, Fox raced into the clearing. He carried a fat, fresh fish between his teeth, and this he laid before the beggar with a bow.
“My friend,” Fox said, “I offer you a fresh fish to ease your hunger. I hope this will satisfy you.”
“You also are kind,” said the Old Man. “I never knew how kind the forest animals were.”
“Of course we are kind,” Monkey said proudly.
“And we are skilled at finding food,” Fox added.
Then all three sat waiting for Rabbit to return. Meanwhile, Rabbit dashed this way and that through the forest, but no matter how he tried, he only found grass for the beggar. He was disappointed in himself because he knew that a human’s hunger would not be satisfied by grass. At long last he returned to the clearing.
“Friend,” Monkey cried. “You have returned!”
“I have,” Rabbit said sadly. “But I must ask you to do me a favor, dear friends. Please, Brother Monkey, will you gather firewood for me? And Brother Fox, with this firewood will you build a big fire?”
Monkey and Fox ran off at once to do as their friend asked, and the beggar sat quietly by, watching in wonder.
When the fire was blazing, Rabbit turned to the beggar. “I have nothing to offer you but myself,” he said. “I’m going to jump into the fire, and when I’m roasted, please feast upon me. I cannot bear to see you go hungry.”
Rabbit bent his knees, preparing to jump into the fire. In an instant, Chang’e flew down from the moon and scooped up Rabbit before he reached the flames.
“Don’t be afraid,” Chang’e said. “I am the moon goddess, and I have seen that you are the kindest and most generous animal of all. I will take you home with me, where you can help me watch over the children and the animals on Earth to make sure they are never harmed.”
The goddess lifted Rabbit and carried him up to the moon. Monkey, Fox, and the false beggar watched in amazement and gratitude.
If you look carefully, when the moon is full and bright, you will see Rabbit living there in peace, watching over all of us. So you can sleep peacefully knowing that you are being kept safe.
Half asleep, Bo smiled with drowsy eyes at the end of the story.
“Roll over. I will rub your back,” Mei Ling instructed.
He blinked at her, but then did as she said. Within moments he was asleep on the bed.
Mei Ling sighed in bittersweet satisfaction. All the tricks she’d learned to take care of her Dai Dai and Mui Mui were working on her new son. May they be well. She sent a blessing to the two little siblings who were lost to her—one by distance and the other by death.
She looked up to see Chinn Kai Li watching. He nodded, indicating his satisfaction. She gestured back, though all the confidence she felt with Bo melted away at the prospect of what was to come.
Since Bo was asleep on the bed, Mei Ling wondered if she might delay the rite of marriage her mother had told her and Jah Jeh about. She indicated that she could sleep on the floor, but Chinn Kai Li shook his head. Gently he scooped up the sleeping child and moved him to the ground.
It was time for Mei Ling to get into bed with her husband. She considered getting under the blanket just as she was, in her red wedding tunic and skirt, but fear of ruining them overtook her modesty. She dug through her trunk to find her sleeping gown. She bowed to her husband and went through the door to find the bathroom. Mei Ling exhaled hard once she was in the hallway.
Keeping the red silk off of the dirty floor was a challenge, but Mei Ling managed to change without sullying it. She returned to the small room and lay down on the bed. Chinn Kai Li left, presumably to wash up in the bathroom, returned a few moments later, and climbed next to her.
Chinn Kai Li pulled up her skirt until it was above her knees. She lay still, frozen with discomfort. He climbed over her, pushing her legs apart so he could fit between them. He buried his face in her neck, nuzzling her skin with his lips. She flinched at first contact, but when she relaxed it wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact it was almost tender. Without thought her hands went to the back of his head. She petted his hair as if he were a child. Soft sounds came from him, and then he entered her suddenly. She tensed up and squelched a cry of pain. Her shoulders pulled up to her ears. He rocked back and forth for a few minutes and then shuddered. Collapsing, his body weighed down her right side. She thought it might be over.
He lay so still she wondered if he was harmed, but she could feel his warm breath against her skin and he was quiet, calm. Over the fabric of her gown, he petted her arm slowly. She felt a drop of moisture fall onto her shoulder. She couldn’t tell if it was sweat or a tear. The idea of one repulsed her; the other raised tenderness.
He patted her cheek and then rolled away. It was over. She had done it. She’d imagined a kiss, like in the Western movies she’d seen, but otherwise it was fine. She was proud and relieved to have this rite of passage behind her.
She rolled to her side, her heart and her mind racing. Bo’s soft sounds floated up from the ground. Mei Ling peered over the side of the bed. The little boy was curled up on the hard, dusty wood, his carved rabbit clutched in his hand. Kai Li watched her as she rose, picked up the child, and placed him in the middle of the bed; wordlessly he nodded his consent.
She lay back down, facing away from Kai Li and Bo. With nothing to distract her, the image of Jah Jeh alone and fevered in their room popped into her mind. Worry filled her heart, making it nearly unbearable to stay in bed, but she didn’t want to disturb the quiet night. She forced herself to lie still and breathe deeply to calm her Dragon.
Mei Ling begged Quan Yin, Please show mercy and compassion to my Jah Jeh and the others in my family. She looked at the dirty walls that trapped her, wishing there was a window so she could see outside. Mei Ling consoled herself by imagining the world past this room. She conjured up the moon in her mind, picturing its light radiating down to her family in the village. And then she imagined the moon’s blessing pouring down on this building, through these walls, onto her and this new, fragile family in Guangzhou. May I learn to be a calm and yielding wife so that we may have a harmonious marriage and family. She fell asleep with that petition in her mind.
CHAPTER 4
Guangzhou
March 1923
In a dream Mei Ling fell, hit the ground hard, and then startled awake. Disoriented, she lay still though her heart was beating fast. She felt the small warm body nestled against her back and remembered it wasn’t Jah Jeh.
Quietly she rose from the bed. She studied Bo’s face. His lips pulled up in the corners and his eyes moved side to side under his lids. She looked at Kai Li’s mussed hair, his back to the boy who lay between them.
She prepared a simple bre
akfast and then pulled out her writing instruments to wait for her husband and son to awaken. She would use the quiet of the morning to update her family.
She sat at the worn wooden table and wrote home.
My dear Jah Jeh,
Were you relieved or angered when you realized that I took your place? Mei Ling longed to learn but didn’t ask.
Guangzhou remains as we remember it. Colorful costumed acrobats, enticing food vendors, and the bustle of movement fill the busy streets. The most notable change is the number of motorcars zooming around donkey carts, rickshaws, and palanquins.
Your sister’s marriage to Chinn Kai Li is complete. Three of us will leave Guangzhou today for a two- or three-day journey to Hong Kong by donkey cart. Our ship, the Persia Maru, is scheduled to sail on March 31.
I am frightened and miss you more than you can imagine, Mei Ling thought, and then wrote, knowing that Jah Jeh would read this letter to the entire family.
I am following your wise words and doing what I must to make a harmonious family.
Before she finished her note, Kai Li sat up in bed. She rushed to his side, carrying his breakfast of tea and rice. He accepted it with a nod. She returned to finish her letter, hoping her husband did not mind that she was distracted, but she wanted to get it posted before they left Guangzhou so her family would be reassured as quickly as possible that she was well.
Bo, your new nephew, is a quiet two-year-old. He is most polite and cooperative and has yet to make a demand of his new mother.
My new home is called 8 Brooklyn Place in San Francisco. It has a lucky number and a lovely name. We will not arrive for nearly two months, but I await your news.
Please honor our parents and Ahma and give Dai Dai a hug on your younger sister’s behalf.
Your devoted sister, Mei Ling
As she signed her name, Kai Li set something down on the table text to her.
“For you to study,” her husband said.
Flooded by the reminder she was a paper wife, Mei Ling leafed through papers tied together with string in a makeshift book. Intricate details about a family and a village filled the eight pages. A map showed the layout of the village with one house circled. That house had its own page, labeled in great detail with notes, including one that said mention the skylights.
Mei Ling looked at Kai Li, an unspoken question on her face.
“When you are on Angel Island they will ask you many, many questions. Your answers must match the information in this book or they won’t let you land in San Francisco.”
“This is your ancestral village?” Mei Ling asked.
A wistful look crossed his face. He must miss his Chinese home.
“Can we visit before we depart?” she asked.
“We have no time.” He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “If you study, we will have success. Do you understand? It is very important. They don’t want us and will do what they can to trick you so they can turn you back. You must study.”
Mei Ling’s heart constricted as she was reminded that the United States was not a friend to the Chinese, and she was surrendering her life to that place . . . and this man.
He continued, “This book contains the information the inspectors are looking for. It doesn’t matter what is true. It only needs to match this. The Americans keep records on me each time I come and go. Each time my relatives came and went—they kept a report.
“If we explain to them that things have changed, that the temple has moved, that we no longer live in the village, they won’t let me come back home, so we just tell them what they want to be true.”
Home. A slight chill ran across her arms. California was her husband’s home. Not China.
Kai Li placed another paper on the table. Two pictures in the upper left-hand corner stared up at her from a paper written in English. Kai Li’s familiar face was on the right. A lovely young woman gazed out from the photograph on the left. Mei Ling’s heart lurched.
“This is you now,” her husband said. “Wong Lew She.”
“Your wife?” Mei Ling asked. First wife, she corrected herself in her head. My paper self.
Kai Li nodded. He stared, lost in thought, then sighed.
“They will believe I am this woman?” Mei Ling said, doubt filling her voice.
“They have believed less credible exchanges,” he replied.
“But she is so beautiful, and I am so plain,” Mei Ling countered.
Kai Li stared at her. Shame flooded into her chest, and she felt heat in her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to have this conversation.
“Not so plain,” he answered. “They will easily believe this story—if you study.”
“Will they ask me about her?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You will teach me? So I can tell them?”
He pointed. “The book will tell you what you need to say. Even about her.”
Bo was suddenly by her side. He must have heard them talking. She looked at him as he stared at the image on the paper, his face blank.
“Mah-ma,” he said in a small, quiet voice.
Mei Ling nodded, her heart twisting in compassion. He reached his hand out and stroked the picture with his small brown finger.
“This is your Mah-ma now,” Kai Li said, not unkindly, but as a simple truth.
The little boy looked at Mei Ling, no expression on his face. She smiled just a little, hoping to reassure him. He blinked a few times and then looked away.
“We must be ready to leave. The cart will be here soon,” Kai Li instructed.
Mei Ling nodded. She picked up her new identity and packed it into her trunk.
Mei Ling and Bo stood by the cart as Kai Li and the driver marched up and down the stairs, carrying the two trunks to the street. Bo didn’t have one of his own, so his belongings were tucked in with Mei Ling’s. A dusty black cushion sat on the wooden bed of the cart, but there were no curtains for privacy. Mei Ling reached her hands down, gesturing to Bo an offer to pick him up. The boy didn’t raise his arms in response to her wordless invitation. She hesitated to pick him up if he wasn’t comfortable with it. Before she took action, Kai Li grabbed the boy from behind and swung him into the wagon. Bo didn’t react, but simply stood at the edge of the wagon staring forward.
Mei Ling looked for a stool or stairs but didn’t see any way for her to join the boy. She looked at Kai Li, uncertain and afraid of appearing demanding.
“I am sorry.” Her husband looked pained. Then he knelt on the ground with one leg bent forward. He gestured to his knee, encouraging her to use it as a step stool.
“I cannot,” Mei Ling said.
Kai Li nodded emphatically. “Please.”
Mei Ling was touched but also embarrassed. What type of man had she married? Her father would never have knelt down to offer his leg as a stool. But he was a scholar, not a merchant. Merchants were practical and resourceful.
Mei Ling nodded a shy consent and slipped off her shoe. She placed her bare foot on Kai Li’s leg. She grabbed his outstretched hand and stepped up beside Bo. Kai Li gave her hand a little squeeze before he let go.
Her husband climbed to the front of the wagon with the driver, leaving her and Bo to make themselves as comfortable as possible on the thin cushions in the back. Before the upheaval caused by the warlords, she would have balked at traveling by donkey cart, but there was so much she did now that had been previously abhorrent.
They turned the corner and were surrounded by the usual cacophony and faces that filled the main road. Mei Ling spied a troop of acrobats in a public square. She tapped Bo and pointed, but he couldn’t see over the edge of the wagon. She pulled him onto her lap and pointed again.
“Acrobats have come to wish us farewell,” she told him.
He stared and then clapped in delight at the contortions. He twisted around to smile at her. She smiled back. Perhaps he was warming up to her. Traffic was so slow they had time to see a seven-person pyramid climb high over their heads before
the acrobats disappeared from sight.
A pit formed in Mei Ling’s belly as they drove through her old neighborhood. Her market, her temple, her streets were unchanged since they’d fled. She peered down her alleyway hoping for a glimpse of her former home, but she couldn’t see it. Perhaps it had been burned and was gone forever. Perhaps it still stood and was occupied by another family.
Girls in school clothes, laughing and holding hands, walked by. In a dream from long ago, she was so carefree. Mei Ling had loved school and all that went with it: her teachers, friends, and learning. She hadn’t appreciated it enough at the time, taking for granted that her life would always be so simple . . . and abundant.
Too soon they were at the southern gate, a border she’d been up to many times but had never passed through. Her heart lurched as they drove through, the wagon taking her away from her beloved Guangzhou. She squeezed the child on her lap, grateful for the comfort of companionship. A single tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t think anyone could see it, so she didn’t wipe it away.
The multiday journey between home and the port city was tiring, though uneventful. Mei Ling grew stiff from the wagon and sore from sharing a strange bed. She passed the time learning details about her new husband from the book. Unfortunately it didn’t answer her most burning question: What happened to Bo’s first mother? She wouldn’t solve the mystery in these pages, since her absence was not part of the official story. Mei Ling didn’t ask, and Kai Li did not volunteer the information.
She and Kai Li hardly spoke to one another, but she didn’t expect they would. They were finding a comfortable rhythm, each taking care of their own roles—just as her parents had.
Mei Ling missed Jah Jeh, her daily companion she shared her thoughts with. Each day she added to an ongoing letter to her sister, reporting the events of the journey but withholding the truth about her painful feelings. She was unwilling to burden her family with her fears—especially her sister who might be ill or angry, or both.
Hong Kong seemed similar to and yet very different from Guangzhou. The fight with the Nationalists had forced the Western corporations to move the center of their import and export activities south from Guangzhou to Hong Kong. The Western dominance in Hong Kong glared out of the architecture of new buildings and the smooth paved streets that made travel so easy. The streets were crowded but orderly, with people mostly dressed in Western clothing.
Paper Wife Page 4
