by Hannah Bent
‘I’m sure Mum wants her here,’ I said, and left Wài Pó’s friend at the entrance to collect white money packets from incoming guests.
I knew where Mum was. She was in a wooden coffin in a small room at the back of the hall. Aunt Lĭ Nà had talked to Harper, Bì Yù and I before the event, explaining every custom and detail that was to come. Only close relatives and family could visit her there. The thought made me nervous, so I followed a helpful Bì Yù around the funeral parlour, holding her hand whenever I could. Occasionally, I would glance over my shoulder at the room behind the altar, toying with the idea of seeing Mum.
A loud crash made me turn. Harper had tried to remove a white iris from a standing wreath. As adults rushed to clean up the mess, I pulled Harper aside and helped her fix the flower in her hair.
‘Heaaavennn,’ she whispered.
‘She’s not dead,’ I said.
Harper shook her head and pointed at the ceiling. ‘Heaaavennn.’ She was repeating what Dad had told her: Mummy’s in heaven now.
‘No, she’s not in heaven. Mum wouldn’t leave us.’ My pulse was racing.
She looked at me blankly.
‘Don’t you understand, Harper?’ I was breathing fast, really fast. ‘Mum wouldn’t leave us.’ The room began to spin. What was happening to me? It felt as if I couldn’t get enough air. ‘Get Bì Yù,’ I shouted. ‘I think I’m dying! I can’t breathe.’ But Harper just cocked her head to one side, looking at me with serious eyes. I pointed. ‘GO!’
Harper ran, while I gasped for air.
Soon I realised I was running too, running fast towards the coffin.
‘Mā ma!’ I shrieked. I clutched the edge of her coffin, stood on my tiptoes and peered in. Mum was dressed in her best clothing – a sparkling navy garment she often liked to wear when on stage. Her face was still, serene, her eyes closed.
‘Mā ma! Wake up.’ I reached out to touch her cheek. It was stiff and cold. I pulled my hand away.
No.
I froze.
‘Marlowe!’
Someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t take my eyes off my mother. How strange and waxy she looked, sleeping in her open casket. All signs of her illness were covered. The angry red marks on her face were barely visible under a thick layer of make-up.
I had always been told I was a petite nine-year-old, but my body felt heavy then, as heavy as a mountain of books that I could not read.
‘Come now,’ a voice whispered. A hand took mine and led me to a chair. ‘You’re having a panic attack. I want you to take deep breaths.’ I felt the hands of a woman brush the hair from my damp forehead. ‘Follow me.’ She breathed in and out again, slowly. ‘Gooooood,’ she said.
My shoulders dropped.
‘Count to ten with me now. One, two…’
Three, four, five…
My breathing deepened.
‘That’s good, can you feel yourself calming down now?’
I could. Six, seven, eight.
‘You’re doing really well.’
Nine, ten, eleven…
‘Good, very good.’
I focused on a flake of paint peeling from the ceiling. As I breathed slowly, I could feel the emotion leave my body and it was as if my insides had turned cold.
‘I’m all right now,’ I said.
And I walked towards my father and took my place by his side. Together we greeted the arriving mourners.
‘Marlowe, are you okay?’ Anita asked.
I nodded.
‘I’m glad I found you. There’s something else I meant to give you.’ She took a slip of paper from her pocket on which was written a phone number. ‘If you fly Cathay Pacific, here is a number you call to book an in-flight medic. Harper will need one in order to travel given her condition.’ Anita looked at her watch. ‘I’d better get back.’ She stood and I rose too. ‘Harper’s due to be discharged in the morning.’ She gave me a brief hug. ‘Good luck.’
As she left the room, I sat again. The chapel was quiet. I decided to stay for a little while longer, staring at the statue of mother and child.
Harper
An EKG machine is something the doctors put on my chest in the hospital. The EKG has wire hands that record the energy in my heart with swooping and jumping lines on paper.
The doctor told me my heart is like an engine, but sometimes even the best engines have problems. In my brain, I see my heart. This time I decorate it with feathers, hanging shells and flowers that grow out of its top. Tubes bigger than the ones connected to my IV drip move blood in and out of its pumping system. Its skin is made of red velvet and in its belly are beating drums: da dum da dum da dum da.
Plum-red blood rushes into my engine like the waves of the ocean – swish swoosh, swish swoosh – and out again – swoosh swish, swoosh swish.
I put my hand on my chest. I think that the doctor does not know everything about my heart.
I am going to be married soon and an EKG machine cannot hear and feel what I can. My hum is like the low moon at night, when it kisses the ocean. This is when my sound turns into a song.
Marlowe
As soon as I arrived back home from hospital, I shut the door to my bedroom and dialled Olly’s number. The phone only rang once before he answered.
‘Marls?’
As soon as I heard his voice, longing hit me like a blow to the spine.
‘Hi.’
‘Oh, thank God. I’ve been trying –’
‘I know. I’m really sorry.’
He had so many questions, but I asked him if I could tell him something first.
‘Of course you can.’ His voice was soothing.
‘I’m taking Harper to China – she can get her transplants there.’ I told him about Anita, Mr Zhāng and how I would be funding the whole thing using the inheritance from my mother.
The silence on the other end of the phone was dense and full.
‘Olly?’ I felt light-headed.
‘Sorry, I need a moment.’ His voice sounded cold. I thought I could hear traces of disappointment. A moment quickly came and went.
‘Olly, what’s going on?’
‘I’m just a little shocked. I mean, my girlfriend has just told me she’s about to take her dying sister to China where she will purchase a heart and lungs for her on the black market.’
His words stung.
‘I was hoping you might be more understanding.’
‘Understanding? What you’re talking about is unethical… Is it even safe for Harper?’
‘I can take care of things myself.’
‘Don’t be like that.’ Another long breath. ‘Look, let’s talk about this rationally.’
He didn’t understand. No one did. ‘I –’ My voice broke. ‘She’s my sister.’
‘I know, Marls.’ His voice softened. ‘But what you’re doing is illegal, and who knows if you can really trust this Zhāng guy?’
‘Bì Yù will be there, and she –’
‘Does Bì Yù even know exactly what’s going on? How much have you told her?’
He knew me too well.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I said.
Stop, a little voice whispered. Take a breath. But I couldn’t.
‘What? You’re going to hang up, just like that?’
‘I’ll talk to you later.’ As I ended the call, I felt an ache in my chest. I curled into a ball and buried my face in the maroon jumper.
Harper
Home.
My heart is like a tall church with wide-open arches and walls that whisper happiness.
Marlowe
A suitcase lay open on my bed, half packed with my clothes and waiting to be filled with Harper’s. Two tickets to Shanghai sat on the desk in front of me. I was staring at the phone in my hand. After our phone call the day before, Olly had rung me several times, but I hadn’t answered. In the end he had sent me an email, which I’d read on Dad’s computer.
Marls,
I’d really like to speak to you.
I’ve given our conversation some thought. I’m sorry I got upset. I’ve realised I can’t look at your actions in a logical way. This isn’t a logical situation. I didn’t consider your feelings and the reasons why you’ve chosen to follow this path. Your relationship with your sister is a part of you I didn’t get to know well enough while you were in London. To be honest, I’m still worried about this trip you’re taking to China. I’ve done some research. It’s such an unregulated industry. I worry things could go badly for Harper.
Please let me come with you.
Please, please call me.
I walked the length of my room, back and forth, trying to decide what to do. I didn’t want him to talk me out of the decision I’d made – but I needed to hear his voice, to know that he still loved me and even if I had trouble completely feeling it, I still wanted to hear that I wasn’t alone. Finally, I dialled Olly’s number. He answered straight away, as if he’d been waiting for my call again.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. ‘I’m so worried about you. Please let me help.’
The kindness in his voice bled out from the phone and filled the air around me. I allowed myself to entertain the idea of him coming, just for a moment. How could I tell him that, while I was grateful for his offer, I needed to do this on my own?
‘I’m sorry… I don’t think that would be a good idea.’
Pathetic. Harper was so much better with words than me.
I heard him exhale, soft and slow, but to my relief he didn’t argue. I promised him I would call once I had arrived in China and hung up.
Next I turned my attention to the suitcase. It was 2 pm, and the flight was scheduled to depart that night at 7.15, but I couldn’t finish packing until Dad and Wài Pó left the house. Dad had told me they had an appointment that afternoon and I was impatient for them to go.
The minutes seemed like hours until at last Wài Pó called out from downstairs, ‘James, I’m calling the taxi – do hurry.’
I heard a creak in the corridor outside my room and then there was a knock at my door.
‘Marlowe?’ It was Dad.
The suitcase.
‘Darling, are you in there?’
I quickly slid the tickets into my desk drawer and shoved the case under the bed then opened the door.
‘Hi, Dad.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘Fine.’ I walked over to sit on the bed, nudging the suitcase further back with my heel.
He came to sit beside me. ‘You know,’ he said softly, ‘ just because your sister’s sick…’ He clasped his hands together. ‘Well, it doesn’t mean…’ He unclasped them again. ‘What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t mean you can’t have a life of your own.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘She seems as stable as she can be for the moment. Why don’t you call some of your old school friends and arrange to catch up?’
Was he serious? Did he really expect me to go out and have fun when my sister was dying in the room opposite mine?
‘Sure,’ I said, barely able to find my voice. I stood up and moved towards the door, hoping that he would take the cue to leave, but he didn’t.
Wài Pó called from the foyer. ‘Five minutes, James!’
‘You don’t want to be late, Dad,’ I said.
‘Darling.’ He tugged at his shirt collar, as if it were too tight. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about.’
I tried to hide my frustration. He never wanted to talk. Why now?
‘Wài Pó hasn’t told you about our appointment today, has she?’
I shook my head and glanced meaningfully at my watch.
‘We’re going to meet a real estate agent.’ He looked down at his feet. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, but we are thinking of selling the house.’
I felt as if the wind had been shocked from my lungs.
‘We should have told you earlier, but I was worried that –’
‘But – but you can’t!’ I said. Mum was all over this house, it was all I felt I had left of her. ‘How does Wài Pó feel about this? I can’t believe she would have agreed to it.’
‘It was your grandmother’s idea actually. We don’t need such a big house anymore and, to be frank, we need the money. Harper’s illness has been a great financial drain.’
Wài Pó’s idea? Really? I clenched my jaw. ‘When?’
‘As soon as we receive an acceptable offer.’
‘What about Harper? Is there even going to be a room for her in the new place?’ My head was spinning. What about Mum? I wanted to know.
Dad seemed to shrink under my gaze. ‘Of course there’ll be a room for her.’ He lowered his head. ‘How can you even ask –’
‘James!’ Wài Pó called from downstairs. ‘The taxi is here!’
He stood. From his breast pocket, he removed an envelope.
‘I never was very good at talking.’ He handed me the letter. ‘I hope this helps to explain things.’ He nodded once, then left the room.
Another damn letter. Harper and Dad were always writing letters. I took it and put it straight into my handbag. I had no intention of reading it. There was nothing he could say that would make this right.
I touched the locket at my throat. Mā ma. It felt as if I were losing her all over again.
I took a deep breath, exhaling my emotion before pasting a smile on my face and striding across the hall into Harper’s room.
Tina Turner was playing. Louis was singing along, using a hairbrush as a microphone.
‘Looouiiiisssss!’ Harper teased him for being out of tune, yet he continued to sing, dancing around the room as if he were on stage. As she laughed, it occurred to me that although I had often seen my sister happy, I had never seen her this happy before.
How could I take her away from him?
Catching sight of me, Louis stopped singing to call, ‘Hi, Marlowe! Do you like my singing?’
‘It’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘But I need to talk to you guys about something.’
As I drew close to Harper, I noticed her lips had turned blue and she was struggling for air. I quickly turned on her portable oxygen machine. She had lost so much weight, the clear mask looked like it might swallow her chin and nose.
‘Why are you putting that on her face again?’ Louis asked. He took Harper’s hand in his. ‘She’s not in hospital anymore.’
‘Louis, please,’ I snapped. ‘When she gets breathless and her lips turn blue like this, you have to tell me, okay?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t see that.’
I sat with Harper until her breathing returned to normal and her lips regained some colour. She grew drowsy, and as she drifted off to sleep I removed her spectacles and put them on her bedside table.
‘I can take care of her.’ Louis stood beside me, eyes red-rimmed. ‘I can take care of her when she is sick.’
I couldn’t reply. Instead, I watched my sister’s chest rise and fall.
Harper
In my sleep, I find Mum. She is in our garden, singing my Chinese name.
‘Míng Huà, Míng Huà, Míng Huà.’
She is holding out her hands for me to take, but I don’t want to touch her.
I tell her I need to be alone. For the first time, I do not want to be with my mum.
I tell her I am happiest in my room, in my home, with all my things, with Marlowe and Dad, Wài Pó and my love, Louis.
But then Mum tells me to look around. In this strange place we are in, Marlowe, Dad, Wài Pó and Louis are nowhere to be seen.
Marlowe
Our suitcase was ready and waiting at the door, but there was one more thing I needed to do. When Dad and Wài Pó came home and we weren’t there, I was sure it wouldn’t take them long to figure out where we’d gone. On a scrap of paper I scrawled the details of a train journey to Beijing and stuffed it into my desk drawer. Then I called a cab and went to wake Harper.
She was on her side, her eyes twitching under their lid
s and her palms pressed together as if in prayer. Part of me wished I could simply leave her in peace, but then she rolled over, coughed and her wheezing intensified.
‘Harper, time to wake up.’
Her eyes opened, but she looked past me. A thin line of blood seeped out from the split skin in the crease of her lip. She closed her eyes again.
‘It hurts, Mum.’
‘It’s me, Harper – Marlowe.’
‘My chest hurts.’
I patted her cheek. She opened her eyes again, and this time looked directly at me. It took her a while to focus. As she sat up in bed, she coughed again.
‘I had a very terrible dream. Where’s Louis?’
I dabbed her lips with a tissue.
‘He had to go home, but he gave you a kiss goodbye while you were asleep.’ I took her hand. ‘Harper, you know how you’re very sick?’
She looked at me blankly – the look she gives when she doesn’t want to acknowledge something or doesn’t like where a line of questioning might lead.
‘I know a doctor in Shanghai who can make you better, but we will need to go there.’
‘Shanghai?’ She shook her head weakly. ‘I don’t want to go there right now. Anyway, the doctors here can make me better like they did when I was in hospital.’
‘But they didn’t really fix you. Your heart’s still sick.’
‘I’m happy here. I don’t want to go anywhere.’ She folded her arms across her chest.
I should have thought this through more carefully, I should have prepared what I would say…
‘But, Harper…’
‘No.’
She was always so damn stubborn.
‘I already told you, Marlowe: the doctors will help me here and you and Dad and Wài Pó and Louis too.’
