Wings of a Flying Tiger

by Iris Yang

  The brakes let out an ear-splitting screech, and the train wrenched to a halt. As soon as the door opened, and before the passengers could exit, the crowd rushed onboard like a flood.

  “Wait! Let us out first,” the young man in the black canvas shoes shouted.

  No one listened to him. People streamed onto the train, and the crush of humanity pressed everyone back into the cabin. A few stepped on Jasmine’s toes. She winced.

  “It’s hopeless,” said the young man. As stocky as he was, he couldn’t do anything to break through the single-minded throng. He ran toward a window in the middle of the compartment and shoved it open. “Come on.” He waved his arm. “We can go through here.” With that, he crawled through the opening, dragged his luggage with him, and disappeared within a few seconds.

  “Hurry,” said Jasmine, limping and dragging the middle-aged woman along with her.

  “I can’t do this,” mumbled Li Suying, shaking her head.

  “Yes, you can. Watch how I do it.” Jasmine bent her upper body and swung her right leg through the open window, holding onto the frame and bringing her left side over. As she lowered herself to the ground, she felt two strong hands catch her waist. “Thank you.” She faced the young man and tipped her head.

  “No problem,” he said. Looking up, he urged the middle-aged woman, “Come on!”

  “I can’t do this.” Li Suying stepped away, but she was being pushed from behind.

  “You must!” Jasmine said. “Your daughter-in-law needs you!” She stood on tiptoes and grabbed the older woman’s wrists. “It’s not hard. You can do it. We’ll catch you.” She turned to the young man.

  He nodded and glanced around. “Do it now!”

  More and more people swarmed the platform. Several dozen Japanese soldiers in yellow uniforms and star-studded caps were among them. Their bayonets gleamed. Their Rising Sun flag fluttered in the chilly breeze.

  Reluctantly, Li Suying bent her body.

  Just then, a gruff voice spoke on a loudspeaker, “Attention. Attention everyone. This train is retained by the Imperial Japanese Army. All passengers must get out immediately.”

  Li Suying retreated. “Everyone has to leave.” She wiped her forehead in relief.

  No one else seemed to share her opinion, as even more struggled to get onboard, and some even climbed onto the top of the train. The loudspeaker demanded compliance several more times.

  “Auntie Li, come on,” said Jasmine, holding her hands up.

  The middle-aged woman stuck her head out. She wasn’t in any hurry, probably still hoping everyone would disembark.

  Bam. Bam. Bam. Three gunshots rang out.

  Screams filled the air.

  By reflex, Jasmine ducked. Her hands flew to cover her head. An involuntary shudder rippled through her body. As she crouched, paralyzed by terror, she felt warm raindrops. What’s the matter? She turned, and as she looked up, another drop fell onto her face. She brushed her cheek. Her fingers came away sticky. And red. She screamed. Her voice was drowned out by a deafening roar.

  “Run!” the young man yelled. He gave her sleeve a tug.

  Jasmine resisted the pull. “Auntie Li!” She stood up, trying to convince the woman. Then she saw it—Li Suying slumped lifeless over the window; blood and tissue sprayed from a dark hole above her temple. “No!” Jasmine shrieked.

  Her scream was cut short by three more gunshots.

  “Run!” the young man urged again. Then, without hearing Jasmine’s answer, he ran.

  People fled in all directions, screaming, shouting, and crying. Breathless with fear, Jasmine raced for the gate. As she ran, she heard the voice over the loudspeaker say, “Anyone remaining on the train will be killed.”

  How could this happen? How could Nanking fall so quickly? How will we get out, even if Mom and Dad agree to leave?

  Chapter 4

  The entrance of the train station was total chaos. It was like a choppy sea with waves going every direction. Some people had just escaped the platform while others still tried to get to the train. Dogs barked, horses neighed, and chickens clucked. The abandoned animals only aggravated the situation.

  The sun was barely above the horizon. The morning was cold. The air smelled of manure. Jasmine shivered, and it wasn’t just because of the cool air.

  Her right toe seemed swollen. Every step brought pain. Normally a line of the two-wheeled carts waited outside the gate. She grimaced as she scanned the area. Luckily, she was among the first to escape the station, and soon she spotted a rickshaw around a corner. Relieved, she let a long breath pass through her teeth.

  Limping, she elbowed her way through the crowd toward the rickshaw. Her right foot was already on the footstep before a man gripped her arm from behind. He yanked her hard and pulled her off the cart. Jasmine staggered sideways, crashing into another man who murmured a curse. Helplessly, she watched the rickshaw depart. Only the man’s shouts to hurry were left in its wake.

  Frustrated, she hobbled forward. Two blocks away, she spotted another rickshaw. “Wait!” she yelled and waved, trying to catch up. The puller had just dropped off his passenger and was ready to leave. “Nanking University,” she said breathlessly.

  He shook his head. “No. I’m going home. Different direction…”

  “Please!” Jasmine begged.

  “Can’t you see what’s happening here?”

  “Please,” she pleaded again. Her parents’ house was only a half hour away. If her toe didn’t hurt, she wouldn’t beg. She fished out two bills from her book pack and handed them to him. “This is twice the fare.”

  The man wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before dismissing her request with an impatient wave.

  Jasmine took out two more bills. “Help me, please!”

  Muttering a curse, he took the money.

  “Thank you!” She sat upon the chair and slumped against the headrest. The hood and the semi-enclosed space provided a semblance of safety. She closed her eyes, shutting out the ugliness. The wheels squealed. The puller’s rhythmic breathing and his feet thumping on the pavement put her at ease. Fatigue caught up with her, and before long she drifted into an exhausted sleep.

  A voice jolted her awake. She didn’t know how long she’d dozed off. It felt like only a minute. Sitting upright, she blinked to bring the world into focus and realized the rickshaw had stopped.

  “Get down,” the puller said, an edge of panic in his voice.

  “But….” She looked around, rubbing her eyes, confused. “But we’re not there yet.”

  “It’s only ten minutes away. I can’t do it anymore.” He grabbed her arm.

  Jasmine resisted the pull. “What are you talking about? I’ve already paid. You—”

  “There you have it.” The man took the money out of his pocket, thrust it to her, and dragged her off the cart. Two bills slipped out of her grip, floating on the wind.

  “Money is useless if one is dead,” he said, picking up the handles. Before she could argue, he turned and ran, leaving her in the middle of a littered street.

  Jasmine shook her head as she chased the bills. She snatched one, but the other had blown to the edge of a building and landed at the bottom of an outside basement entrance. Hissing a sigh of irritation, she trod down the steps.

  The bill lay on top of a propaganda leaflet. A picture showed a smiling Japanese soldier holding a Chinese baby while giving food to her parents. A few words printed near the Rising Sun flag—“Trust the Japanese Army. We will give you rice to eat, clothes to wear, and a home to live.”

  As she picked up the papers, shouts erupted. Gunshots and explosions followed. Instinctively, she hunkered down. With hands over her head, she hid behind the wall, making herself as small as possible. She was afraid to even take a breath.

  From her hideaway below street level, she heard a few people pass in a hurry. They were shooting and yelling in Chinese. Her hands covered her ears so she couldn’t make out anything except for a couple of words
like “Fire” and “Run.”

  Rat-tat-tat-tat. Rapid fire exchanged, and ear-splitting explosions went off. The sound of firearms mingled with yelling and screams.

  Soon a much larger group rushed by, shouting in Japanese.

  She recoiled. Her fear grew into a full-blown panic. Her body shook uncontrollably. The sickening stench of blood and gunpowder blended with the animal manure. With one arm shielding her head, she jammed her fist into her mouth to prevent her from crying out loud.

  Time seemed to stall. To Jasmine, the fighting seemed to go on forever, but it actually lasted only a few minutes. The soldiers moved on, and the area became quiet.

  She waited, listening, making sure she was alone before peering out. No one was there—at least no one was standing. Ten yards to her right lay a corpse in the blue cotton Nationalist Army uniform. He was on his face, a mat of blood on his back. Further away, two more Chinese combatants lay on the sidewalk. One man’s chest was a giant red blossom, and half of the other man’s head had been blown off. Stray dogs circled the bodies.

  For a second, Jasmine stood frozen, immobilized by shock and grief. But she allowed herself only a moment before she jumped to her feet.

  She moved as fast as she could. In case she had to hide again, she kept running near the edge of the buildings and paid close attention to the basement entrances or any other hideouts. Rubble from artillery fire, abandoned vehicles, weapons, and Nationalist Army uniforms littered the street.

  The ten-minute distance seemed longer than the Great Wall. Luckily she didn’t encounter another soul before reaching the house. She was out of breath. Her chest seemed about to explode. She trembled so violently that she could hardly stand.

  Leaning against the frame, she banged on the door. Huffing and puffing, she yelled at the top of her lungs, “Mom! Dad! Open the door. It’s me, Jasmine. I’m home. Open up!”

  Chapter 5

  Faint light finally shone around the edges of the windows. It had been a very long night for the two servant girls. They had waited until the sun was well up in the sky before pulling the bed away from the doorway to leave the bedroom. Keeping their eyes averted, they tiptoed through the living room as if they were afraid to disturb the dead.

  The two bodies lay in a dark pool surrounded by wiggly lines of dried blood. Flies buzzed about, making a repulsive hum. One notebook lay open in their way. Blood covered most of the writing. Only a few words like family, country, and hatred stood out.

  Xiao Mei drew up short. “Wait a second.” She pivoted and ran to the master bedroom.

  “Come back!” yelled Chen Hong.

  “In a minute.” A moment later Xiao Mei returned with a white sheet in her hands. She offered one edge to Chen Hong. But before they covered the bodies, she lifted her arm and shoved the bedsheet to the other girl.

  Xiao Mei bent down. Grimacing, she took Mrs. Bai’s left hand and slid the gold wedding ring off Mrs. Bai’s blood-crusted finger.

  “What are you doing?” cried the taller girl with palpable disgust.

  Ignoring her companion, Xiao Mei walked to the other side of the bodies, stepping between the rivers of blood. The offensive odor caused her to squint in revulsion. Holding her breath, she pulled Professor Bai’s left arm from underneath his wife’s dead weight. This time it took her a little longer, but when she straightened up, she was holding both blood-coated wedding bands in her palm. “Here.” She thrust one ring to the lanky girl.

  Chen Hong backed away two steps. “No!” she said, shaking her head, her disbelief mixed with horror and contempt. “I don’t want it. I—”

  “It’s not for you,” Xiao Mei cut her off. She grabbed the girl’s arm. “It’s for Miss Jasmine. We have to save these for her.” She swallowed, forcing back whatever churned inside her stomach. “You take one. I keep one. If…when…we see her…” Her voice trailed off. Professor Bai’s family was Xiao Mei’s savior. They had rescued her from her previous owner who was going to sell her to a brothel.

  Chen Hong nodded.

  They put the rings on, trying a few times to find the right finger.

  As the girls spread the bedsheet, they heard loud bangs at the front door. Chen Hong let out a gasp and Xiao Mei shivered. They stood frozen. Fear pinned them to the spot and robbed them of their ability to run away and hide.

  After a few seconds of sheer terror, Xiao Mei grabbed the other girl’s hand and turned on heel. A few steps later she stopped abruptly.

  “What?” whispered Chen Hong.

  “It’s Miss Jasmine!”

  The door opened and Jasmine stumbled into the foyer.

  “Miss Jasmine!” The two housemaids exclaimed in unison and caught her in their arms. Tears trickled down their faces.

  “I’m okay.” She patted the girls on their backs. Her lungs seemed to burst from rapid breaths. “God, it’s horrible out there. But I’m home now.”

  Both servants wept.

  Jasmine soothed them. “Look at me. I’m fine. Don’t be silly.” She peeked over their shoulders and yelled, “Mom! Dad! Come here. Save me from these crying babies.” She tried to sound casual and funny.

  The housemaids cried even louder. Jasmine tried to walk past them, but the girls held her back.

  “What’s wrong?” She shook her head and jerked herself free. Several steps later, the girls grabbed her again.

  “Don’t!” they begged together. Their tears wet her neck and cheek.

  Jasmine extricated herself from their hold. As soon as she stepped into the living room her body stiffened. Blood had leaked from underneath the sheet, and a pair of black embroidered satin slippers stuck out. Her hands flew to her mouth.

  The girls caught up with her, pulling her back. Jasmine wrenched her arms free and took two huge strides toward the white cover. Crouching down, she extended a trembling hand and tried twice to grip the corner of the sheet. Finally, she swallowed her dread and flipped the cover. Her father’s mouth was frozen in an anguished scream. A fly had just landed on his upper lip. Her mother stared at her with sightless eyes. A knife protruded from her chest.

  Jasmine slumped in the pool of her parents’ blood. A sharp pain struck her like the tip of a blade thrusting into her own chest. She couldn’t move.

  A moment later she found her voice and let out a mournful wail. “Mom! Dad!” Tears rolled down her face.

  The two girls squatted down beside her, hugging her, whimpering.

  Jasmine could barely take a breath. How could she go on without her parents? Life without them was unimaginable.

  Now she was alone in the world. Weighed down by misery, Jasmine reached for the knife, but before she could grasp it, Xiao Mei clutched her hand in a death grip. “No!” Xiao Mei cried. “If your parents are looking down on you, they will be so sad.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Chen Hong.

  “Think about your uncle, aunt, Cousin Birch, and Miss Daisy,” Xiao Mei said. “They’re your family, too. You know they’d be heartbroken if you…if you…”

  Outside, gunshots and explosions had come and gone, some terribly close. At one point, tanks had rumbled through the streets, rattling the house.

  Through a mist of tears, Jasmine stared at the younger girls. As scared as they were, they were trying their best to comfort her. Warmth crept into her frozen heart.

  She couldn’t jeopardize the housemaids’ lives because of her loss. She knew that they should not remain in the house for long. Wiping tears from her face, she nodded. She backed up on her knees and bowed down. Her head knocked against the blood-stained floor three times, showing her highest reverence.

  Bowing down, the girls followed her gesture.

  The sight of the bodies wrenched another sob from Jasmine. Mom, Dad, I’m sorry I can’t bury you. With shaking hands, she drew the sheet back over them.

  The thought that she’d never see her parents again sliced into her like the very knife that she’d nearly plunged into her own chest. The heartache was more painful than anythi
ng she’d ever experienced. She pressed her hands against her chest, willing herself to stay strong.

  Help me get out of here, she prayed. Please let me return to Chungking and Uncle’s family. She straightened her upper body. Through trembling lips, she asked, “Where are we…going?”

  “Chen Hong wants to go home,” replied Xiao Mei. “We talked about it last night.”

  The taller housemaid confirmed it.

  Xiao Mei added, “I want to go to Father John’s church. My family is too far away. I’m afraid—”

  “Good,” interrupted Jasmine. She rose slowly to her feet. The room spun, so she clung to the girls. “Father John will help us.” She turned to Chen Hong. “Go with us.”

  The lanky girl shook her head. “My family isn’t far away,” she said, moistening her lips. “I want to be with them.”

  “Then walk along the edge of the street. Pay attention so you notice any hideout,” said Jasmine. She started to leave, but three steps later she whirled around. Digging into the book pack slung across her shoulder and chest, she took out the bags of roasted chestnuts and peanuts. With great reverence, she placed the treats on top of the sheet. Her throat ached with the effort to hold back more tears.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” said Xiao Mei as she took the gold ring off her thumb.

  Chen Hong did the same.

  Jasmine’s voice tangled in her throat, so she nodded her gratitude and accepted the rings.

  Chapter 6

  They made sure no one was around before they ran. Jasmine and Xiao Mei turned right while the lanky girl spun left. A few steps later, Jasmine wheeled around. “Chen Hong!” she called out and sprang back. Flinging her arms wide, she enfolded the girl in a fierce embrace. All three huddled together.

  Tears formed deep pools in Jasmine’s eyes and blurred her vision. “When the war is over,” she said, sniffling, “when it is safe, perhaps we will meet here again.”