The Nine Fold Heaven

by Mingmei Yip

  This was the second time tragedy struck the circus in less than a decade. Five years ago, the Shen’s youngest daughter, also a trapeze artist, fell to her death during a Chinese new year celebratory performance. Mr. Shen, director and head of the circus, had then thought of closing down the circus but continued because he didn’t have the heart to abandon his loyal staff and hardworking animals.

  However, since his daughter’s death, the circus, seemingly cursed, has been on a downward spiral. That was why Mr. Shen was willing to hire Melodie, an expert in both magic and trapeze, to be their major attraction—and their last hope. Until now, Shen had never used any outside performers.

  Doctors stated that Miss Melodie is in critical condition but would not give further information.

  After I finished reading, I set out to visit Shadow in the hospital. I hoped this would not be our last meeting and eternal farewell. I desperately hoped not, because this sad event made me realize that since we were both completely alone in the world, we should be friends instead of rivals. After all, we were what the Chinese describe as “sharing the same fate and living a lonely, isolated life at the margin of the world.”

  I also knew that in this life, it is always wise to have at least one person to watch your back.

  I set aside the newspapers, dressed, had a hurried breakfast of congee at a stall and took a taxi to the gray, depressing-looking building that was Kwong Wah Hospital in Kowloon’s Mong Kok area. I hurried inside the drab, medicinal-smelling lobby of this infamous institution where, it was reputed, few who came in ever came out.

  At the reception desk sat a thirtyish, skinny, mean-faced woman totally absorbed in reading a sheet of paper, presumably a letter.

  I put up my most ingratiating smile and asked in my most polite voice about the woman I knew as Melodie, or Shadow.

  She raised her head and looked at me with a straight face. “We neither have a Shadow nor a Melodie here.” Then she sniggered, her eyes shrinking into slits. “What kind of names are these, anyway?”

  I cast her a disapproving look. “Miss, I’m here looking for the young lady who fell during her performance at the Shen’s Circus last night at Shek Tong Tsui.”

  She returned my look with an even more disapproving one. “Miss, this is a public hospital and we treat many girls who fall every day. Last night there was one who jumped from her boyfriend’s apartment after he told her that he had never loved her, not even a single day. There was another one who was being chased by her debt collector and fell from her balcony. So, I really don’t know which one you’re talking about. Miss, I’m sorry. This is a hospital, not a detective’s office.”

  I knew she was not going to help me, or maybe she really didn’t know, or just was too lazy to even look it up. But maybe she would not be able to find it anyway, for like my name Camilla, Shadow and Melodie were made-up ones. Her parents must have given her a name, but I had no idea what it was.

  “All right, thanks anyway, and enjoy your reading,” I said sarcastically.

  She ignored my remark and went right back to her reading. Was it a love letter from her boyfriend? But what kind of man would waste time detailing his love to a woman like her? I amused myself wondering, when he decided to dump her, would she chase him and fall to her death?

  But I cut off this train of thought and decided to look for Shadow myself, making my way through all the wards, floor by floor. Finally, I was inside the last room on the fifth floor, my last chance. Inside, there were altogether six beds, all occupied. I cast a quick glance around, but none of the women, young or old, looked anything like Shadow. But then I saw that there was another patient in a dark corner far from the windows. I could see that she was covered with bandages, except for slits over her eyes, nose, and mouth.

  I hurried toward the bed, afraid that this was Shadow, horribly injured, but equally afraid that if it was not her, it meant she had died. This living mummy had hair that was long, curly, and black, just like my friend’s. But instead of the shiny tresses I was used to, her hair was spread over the pillow looking like tangled seaweed.

  When I passed the bed of an elderly woman, she reached her skinny, clawlike hand to grab my sleeve. “Miss, please have a seat and talk to me.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t know you.”

  The many-wrinkled face pleaded. “But I’m your grandmother and I am lonely! No one comes to visit. So now you’re here, why don’t you sit beside me so we can talk?”

  But fortunately or unfortunately, I never knew my mother, let alone any grandmother. So I ignored her and continued toward the patient in the corner by the window. I stopped in front of my target and looked, and what I saw gave me a chill. The patient was covered with bandages; though there were slits for her eyes, they seemed to be staring at nothing in particular. One of her feet was covered by a plaster cast and suspended in midair. Tubes were going in and out all over her body like little snakes slithering over rocks. Was the rotten odor that assaulted my nostrils coming from underneath her bandages, or the collective stink from all the sick and neglected patients? Or was it the smell of death? Because not all the patients lying here had moved at all since I’d come in.

  I leaned close to the bandaged face. “Shadow?”

  The resurrected mummy looked at me but didn’t respond.

  I whispered again. “Shadow, is that you?”

  Still no response. But a few seconds later, I noticed teardrops trickling down from the corners of her eyes. I realized that she must be in such pain that it even hurt to speak.

  So I said very tenderly, like I was speaking to my little Jinjin in my dream, “I know you can’t talk. But if you’re Shadow, please nod.”

  She did. Tears kept trickling down.

  I tried to blink back mine. “It’s Camilla, your friend who comes to see you.”

  She nodded again.

  “And don’t worry, I think you’ll be fine.”

  No response.

  I asked. “Anyone paying for your hospital fees here?”

  I noticed a slight shook of her head.

  “Don’t worry, Shadow, I’ll take care of that.”

  More tears oozed from the once-lantern-bright, but now glassy fish eyes. I took out my handkerchief to dab those soul’s windows through which, for now, her soul seemed to have departed. At that moment a white-robed doctor and a white-uniformed nurse came into the room and walked straight toward us.

  Both cast me a curious look. The nurse asked, “Are you a relative?”

  “No, just a friend.”

  “Then step aside and come back in fifteen minutes, Doctor is going to check on her.”

  Outside the big room I took a seat on a bench next to a young woman holding her son. She looked worried and the baby looked sick. So I decided not to bother them with conversation. The shock of seeing a bandaged and banged-up Shadow had depleted my body and my spirit. Suddenly, I felt ten years older and completely drained of energy. What had happened to Shadow could also have happened to me if Old Heaven decided I was his enemy. And that sick baby right next to me, would he make it? And if not, how would his mother cope? What about my little Jinjin, was he now in good health doted on by a loving family, or was he being neglected and abused?

  In the hospital, all I could see was a sea of despondent faces. Now, sitting beside this sad mother and children, and waiting to hear about my horribly injured friend, I wondered if misery was all one can expect in this life. I hoped not. I still wished that someday I’d be reunited with Jinying and Jinjin, even win back Shadow as a real friend.

  Lost in these thoughts, it was a moment before I realized that the doctor and nurse were now standing in front of me.

  I stood up, put on my best smile, and asked politely, “Doctor, will my friend be okay?”

  “She’s had a torn ligament—it will take some long time to heal.”

  “Why is her face bandaged? Did it get burned?”

  “Only slightly. She should be fine, maybe only one or two small scars.�
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  “Then why is it all bandaged?”

  “To prevent possible infection; besides, she has some abrasions.”

  Now the nurse cut in. “Do you know if she has any relatives?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Someone has to pay for her expenses.”

  “I can pay for her.”

  “Good. Go to the cashier now and take care of the bill.”

  And this concluded the conversation about the life and death of a young, beautiful, talented woman.

  I visited Shadow every day in the hospital, bringing her food and soup, fresh fruits, and special grape juice that is supposed to be good for sick people.

  Then when I arrived one day the bandages were gone from her face. Her cheeks were so sunken that it made her eyes look ominously big, like lanterns on a ghostly night. But she was still the Shadow who was both my friend and my sometimes rival.

  “How are you feeling, Shadow?”

  Without the bandages, I could better understand what she was saying to me.

  Instead of answering my question, she asked, “Why are you so kind to me, Camilla? Why don’t you just let me rot my way to hell?”

  Wah! How unkind when I had come nearly every day to feed and care for her! Could I admit that the reason I was nice was because I now realized we shared similar fates? So I hoped we could now be allies instead of adversaries? That I wanted something out of this too? But I couldn’t really say these things.

  Then she spoke again, with effort. “Thanks, anyway, for everything.” She lowered her head and thought for a while. “Camilla, I screwed up our last show—you’re not angry at me?”

  “But I also sliced off part of your finger. So we’re even. We can have a fresh start. Shadow, instead of trying to outwit or destroy each other, women like us should help each other out.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Because no one else cares. We’re alone, rootless souls struggling to survive on the margins of this Red Dust. We were both famous in Shanghai, but think about it, one day when we die, people will have forgotten us the next.”

  She remained silent.

  I went on. “Because we don’t have a family or husband for support. Shadow, we’re all by ourselves.”

  She sighed. “Maybe you’re right, my friend.”

  “I’m very sorry about your fall. But why did your partner suggest taking down the safety net? Did she try to harm you on purpose?”

  She shook her head. “No, it was my idea.”

  I was surprised to hear that. “But why?!”

  “Because the circus has been doing so badly that I wanted to attract a bigger audience. If this circus closes, I have no place to go. I really don’t want to end up on the street….”

  She began to cry. I took out my handkerchief and handed it to her.

  “Shadow, from now on you don’t have to worry about money anymore….”

  She nodded, a bitter smile spreading on her face.

  After a moment’s silence, we asked each other simultaneously, “Why are you in Hong Kong?”

  “You go first, Shadow.”

  “All right. Since I screwed up your show, I feared you’d take revenge on me. Not to mention you’re Master Lung’s woman, so you could even ask him to kill me. Who knows? But when you disappeared right after the shooting at Lung’s villa, I suspected you had something to do with the gang war. Remember, Master Ling used to tease us that we’re ‘sisters,’ so I feared that the gang would think I also had something to do with what happened. I thought the smart thing to do was get out of Shanghai.”

  Shadow took a big gulp of the milk I had bought her, then asked, “All right, Camilla, then why did you come to Hong Kong?”

  “It’s a long story. If you have the energy to listen.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “I stole Master Lung’s money during the shooting and made my escape here.”

  She fixed on my eyes with her lackluster ones, a puzzled expression on her still slightly swollen face. “Why have you told me this? You’re not afraid I’ll tell the others?”

  I knew she thought I had told her because I planned to kill her anyway.

  I looked back into her sunken eyes. “Shadow, if we don’t help each other, no one will. So we’re in the same boat. Think about it. Even if I eliminate you, what good will it do me now in Hong Kong?”

  She nodded weakly.

  I smiled. “Anyway, Shadow, you don’t have to worry. Since I’ve been paying for your hospital bills, now you’re my accomplice. So you can’t expose me because they’ll assume you were in on it too.”

  Some silence passed and she cast me a curious look. “Guess you’re right, Camilla; we have no choice but to be friends and allies.”

  I nodded.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “I am just collecting some good karma for myself. You know, just in case.”

  “In case of what?” she asked, then chuckled nervously. “Look at me, Camilla, you really think I can help you—or anybody—now?”

  “I don’t know yet. Shadow, I believe it is our karma to do more together than just rub shoulders and walk past each other.”

  She nodded, looking unbearably sad. Despite the injuries and pain, she kept her beauty, though now with more than a touch of melancholy.

  I was perhaps more surprised than she to discover that I felt real compassion for my shadowy, magician rival, now to be friend.

  When Shadow was finally released from the hospital, she went back to live with the other performers at a dilapidated dorm apartment provided by the circus in Kowloon’s Walled City, a very old and poor area. Apparently, the rumor that the circus was closing was not true, at least not yet. Since Shadow could not perform, she was assigned to do clerical work. However, if the circus did close, or just became tired of having her around, she would probably have to become a cleaning maid. I knew she felt too humiliated to ask me for more money. And she may have thought that my telling her I was rich was merely boasting.

  Though Shadow had sometimes upstaged me, it was painful for me to observe her present debilitated state that was likely the end of her performing career.

  But despite my concern for her, I was once again becoming preoccupied with my own worries and the need to seek out Jinjin and his father. This was why I had left her in the dorm rather than inviting her to stay with me. Though I felt guilty about this, I needed to come and go without explaining what I was doing.

  I thought I would start by looking for news about Lung and the gangs in the Shanghai newspapers, and, I hoped, some about Jinying. But how to find Shanghai newspapers in Hong Kong? After some thinking, I realized there must be a Shanghainese association or the like in the British Colony. A quick perusal of the phone book revealed one in Causeway Bay, a busy district close to Wanchai where I lived.

  Once I had made sure that Shadow was settled as comfortably as possible in the dorm, I took a rickshaw to the Shanghai Association, which turned out to be on the third floor of a dilapidated building. I climbed the stairs and entered the smoke-filled sitting room. Inside were elderly people chatting, listening to the radio, playing go, and reading newspapers. I saw that one elderly man was reading just what I had hoped to find—the Leisure News—which published Rainbow Chang’s column. I sat to wait patiently for the man to finish so I could read it.

  Just then a younger man came to me and asked, “Miss, can I help you?”

  “No, but thanks. I just passed by and came up to take a look.”

  “But there’s nothing here for a young person like you.”

  “I’m looking for a place for my uncle from Shanghai to hang out. “

  “All right, then take your time to look around,” he said, and returned to sit behind a desk.

  Finally, when the man finished the newspaper and put it back to the rack, I took it and sat down to read. I found nothing about the events that interested me, not surprising since they had occurred several months ago. But I saw that in back the
re were shelves piled with old newspapers, so I grabbed a stack and started to work my way through them, page by page. Finally, I found what I was looking for:

  A Sheep Inside a Tiger’s Mouth

  Since the big shoot-out at the villa of Master Lung, head of the Flying Dragons gang, he and his Harvard lawyer son, Lung Jinying, have not been seen, nor has Lung’s petite aime, Camilla, shown her pretty face in public. But it seems that Jinying could not suppress his love for opera because two days ago he was spotted at the performance of Madame Butterfly at the Shanghai Theater. Though almost hidden in the corner of the back row, he was detected by the Red Demons, who grabbed him as he was sneaking out the back. At least that’s what one of my Pink Skeleton girls heard from an intimate acquaintance.

  It’s well-known that Big Brother Wang is not a man of compassion and is famous for his secret torture chamber—which gang doesn’t have one? So he won’t be gentle when he questions his rival’s son to find out what happened to his father. Maybe he’s as dead as Confucius, but Wang needs to be a hundred percent sure.

  So maybe as you read this, Harvard boy Lung Jinying is screaming with pain in his enemy’s torture chamber.

  More to follow…

  Rainbow Chang

  I felt my throat tighten as I read this. I had assumed that Jinying would be devastated by the events at the villa’s shoot-out and my escape, but never imagined he would be subjected to the monstrous cruelty of Big Brother Wang! I first thought to go back to Shanghai to try to ransom him. But was it already too late? The newspaper I was reading was dated more than a month ago. That meant we’d both been in Shanghai, but just “rubbed shoulders” past each other! If Wang’s men had really kidnapped Jinying, then the picture of Jinying’s fate wouldn’t be pretty. I should go back to Shanghai to rescue him, but how? I might get killed before I even had the chance.