by Hannah Bent
My heart is tired, more tired than ever before. It feels like a long and slow sigh of air.
My time is running out. But now I can say I am really not scared.
Why? I am not sure, but I feel that my heart is full: full of all the people I love. I think to myself that love is many things and one thing it does is take care of those you love. I will take care of my Marlowe. Even though I haven’t told her yet, I made my decision to be okay about having the transplant she wants. I will be better, not sick but alive in this body.
‘Better is a good thing,’ I say out loud, but then something moves like electricity in my blood. With someone else’s heart, will I be able to love like I do now?
I don’t only love people, I love my words too.
Will I be able to write like I do now?
I need to finish my story. I really do, but every time I try, I can’t get the ending right.
Something is missing. Now, instead of trying to write in my storybook again, I take out a dictionary, my flowery paper, an envelope and my coloured pens and write Louis another letter.
To My Dear Louis,
My hart does miss you. When I see your fase in my mind the beeting inside my chest is fast. I know this is a sine of romanse.
Marlowe says I have to have someone elses hart very soon. I do not want this new hart but now I feel calm all over me like melting buter because I will do this trans-plant thing for Marlowe. She needs it more than me.
Some times love meens a word called sac-ri-fice. After I looked this up in the dictonry I understod in my brane that sac-ri-fice is when you give up your own hopes and dreems so that another person will be happy. And this is what I wil do for my Marlowe.
I have the dictonry in my hand now and I wanted to tell you abot a brave thing I am doing. I looked up how to spell the word dead. D.E.A.D. It meens no longer a live. See, I am riting it now to tell you I am not scared of this word anymore. Not scared to rite it, not scared to say it. Even tho I understand in my hart and in my mind that I need a trans-plant to stay in my body and a live with two feet on the grond I still am not afrade anymore if I am not in this body and all that is left of me is my hum. My hum that will be in everything
the wind
the see
the sand
the air
in you.
I don’t no wen this hapened or how but I want you to no that I do not have long before the beetng of my very own hart will run out. Even tho it is sick, it is full of love for you.
My sweet Romeo,
I love you.
Harper明华Míng Huà Eve
When I put my pen down, I suddenly know what I need to do to find the ending of my story. I need to see my plum tree before it is too late.
‘Knock, knock.’ Bì Yù comes into the room. ‘How’re you feeling?’ She stands behind my chair and puts her hand on my back. Everyone keeps asking me this question.
‘I’m fine.’ I don’t tell her about the stuff that came out of my coughing this morning, sticky and the colour of roses.
‘What are you doing?’
I hide my letter under the table. Marlowe says I am not allowed to send people letters while we are here because this trip is a secret, so I am saving them for when I get home and will deliver them in person. It is a bit confusing if I think about it, because Marlowe said Louis knew about my trip to Shanghai but then she said I am not allowed to tell him where I am.
Bì Yù looks under the table.
‘Can I see? I won’t get angry, I promise.’ She smiles. I can feel her words; they come into my ears and through my veins like warm water and it feels nice. In this moment, I know that it is safe to give her the letter.
‘This is a love letter to Louis. But don’t tell Marlowe.’
Bì Yù’s smile is bigger now. She looks at me and does not blink. I am sure she is thinking hard in her brain. I see her eyes move slowly back and forth, back and forth over my words and her breathing seems very still.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ She is shaking her head, but I can see from her face she is not being honest.
‘What is it, Bì Yù? Are you mad at me for writing the letter? I’m sorry.’
‘No, I am the one who should be sorry.’ She folds up my paper and hands it back to me. ‘I just realised, I am doing the same thing to you that Marlowe is, but in a different way.’
I don’t really understand what she is saying but I nod and smile.
‘I have been so caught up in finding the truth behind what is happening with all these transplants in China that I never really listened to you and what you want.’
I want to tell her it is okay because I am already used to this thing of people not listening to me, but before I have a chance to get my words out, she is already saying she is sorry and asking me to forgive her.
‘Neither you nor I want this heart transplant, but our reasons are different. My mistake was that I should have tried to understand and respect yours.’
‘It’s okay. I have changed my mind. I will do this transplant for Marlowe.’
She looks at me and she shakes her head. ‘My dear Harper, you don’t have to do that.’
‘I know. This is my decision and you can listen to this one now. Thanks.’
I see her eyes moving, searching my face, and now she is trying to find her words. Slowly she bows her head. I see she has given up.
‘Would you like me to send this letter for you?’
My heart jumps and it sings. Then I remember all the other letters I wrote that I had to hide in a secret place under the bed. I get them out and give them to Bì Yù. Her hands become full.
She sits on the bed. Her fingers move slowly through them. Her face is long and her chin is nearly at her chest.
‘Could you send those letters too?’
‘Of course.’ I like the way she touches them, like they are little baby animals and she is their mother. ‘Harper…’ She looks up at me. ‘When you have finished writing your letter, why don’t you put my address on the back of the envelope?’
‘Okay.’ She is full of good ideas.
‘You could even tell Louis in your letter that you are in Shanghai staying with me…’ She blinks a lot. I know this means she is thinking something nervous and it is making me feel nervous, like all the blood in my body is whooshing at high speed. ‘Just so that Louis will know you’re safe.’
I think about this in my brain for a bit. ‘This means I am going to upset Marlowe. She said our trip is a secret.’
‘She won’t need to know. This will be our secret.’
There are so many secrets in China. I am feeling like all the secrets are knotted in my body, all the way up to my neck, and soon they might unknot themselves and spill out of my mouth.
Bì Yù writes her address on the back of one of the envelopes and tells me to copy it.
‘Do it as quick as you can, before Marlowe comes out.’
I nod a yes at her.
‘Will you send this by Express, DHL, Speedy Gonzales post?’
‘Of course.’ She smiles and leaves my bedroom.
I add a bit quickly to the last letter.
PS Louis I cannot wait to marry you at sunset.
Louis I am in Shang-hi.
There are so many secrets.
Love, Harper
I copy the address onto the back of all the letters. I do it so many times that after a while I don’t need to copy because I can remember in my mind the order of the words that tell Louis how to get to Bì Yù’s home. When I am finished, I leave my room to give Bì Yù my letters, but then I stop in the hallway, because I hear her on the phone. She is in the kitchen, talking in a hushed way.
‘Hi, Uncle James? It’s Bì Yù. I’m so sorry – I’ve made a big mistake. I was confused… I thought I was helping Harper, but I’m not. She and Marlowe are with me, waiting for a transplant.’
Dad? I want to run to the phone and call his name but air is too hard to catch.
‘It is supposed to be scheduled for three days’ time, but who knows? The broker’s really shady. Marlowe’s determined to go through with it and I can’t make her see sense, but maybe you can… That would be great. Let me know your flight details.’
Her voice is long and soft and slithery, like a big S for secret. I am beginning to think this is the language of my whole family.
Marlowe
Warm light oozed down the middle of my face. I heard fingers plucking the strings of a guitar; the sound was gentle, familiar.
I opened my eyes to the sky. It was not the blue I was expecting, but bright yellow.
I stood, and found I was wearing an ivory lace gown that reached my feet. Why was I wearing lace?
I heard someone call my name. Following the sound of the voice, I saw Olly sitting on the edge of Cleeve Hill, singing. His lyrics told me I was old, as old as the Jurassic rock on which he sat.
Dry grass fell from my body as I walked. I brushed hair from my face and a daisy fell too. Momentarily, I wondered if I was Harper, but Olly was singing my name.
By the time I reached his side, the sound of his voice had faded and all I could see were his hands: outstretched and cupped together. Coaxing them open, I found a monarch pupa. I could see the outline of a black-and-orange wing inside the waxy casing.
The pupa should have been hanging from a twig or a branch; Olly must have disturbed it. Yet I wasn’t outraged – I was mesmerised as I watched the delicate creature struggling to break free from its selfmade womb.
I tried to keep my breathing shallow, so as not to disturb the birthing. Time seemed distorted, sped up. The pupa was like a lung, cracked at its base. With an expand and contract, it pushed itself out, head first. Its wings were small, wet and creased, its abdomen rounded with fluid. I waited until it beat its wings, pumping the stored liquid through its veins. And then up, up it flew. The sky had changed colour and was now the same orange as the monarch’s wings. Camouflaged, the butterfly was now invisible.
When I lowered my gaze, I saw Mum standing before me. Her long hair loose around her shoulders. She was wearing an orange cheongsam. I wanted to tell her that was the wrong colour, but I couldn’t speak. My throat was gripped by a raw longing for her. She took my hand and fastened a gold bracelet around my wrist; I knew it had been given to her on her wedding day. She kissed me on the forehead and told me everything was as it should be.
As she turned to leave, I tried to call to her, but no sound emerged. I kept trying, but the more I tried, the further she got, until she was gone.
Harper
‘Mum! Mum!’ Marlowe’s voice is screaming from across the corridor.
I open my eyes and sit up in bed.
‘Muuuuuum!’ Her sound is high then falls sharply.
I make my feet wriggle out of the warm sheets and, with all my strength, I lift my body out of bed. I see little white stars in the corners of my eyes and my world feels thin and dizzy as I walk as fast as I can to her room.
She is asleep in her bed with her arms crossed over her heart. Her forehead is tight and her bottom lip sticks out. I have not seen her like this before and it makes something inside of my heart rip and it feels like I have been cut open already, bleeding bleeding.
As I stare at her, I think in my mind that there is a rotting seed inside my Marlowe, and this time, I can make it better.
Marlowe
‘No! I’m not calling him for you!’ Bì Yù and I were standing by the phone. ‘This isn’t what Harper wants – we have to respect that.’
The feelings bubbling inside of me as I stared at her were so intense, so convoluted, tangled, torturous, that I struggled to make sense of them. I feared if I opened my mouth I would say something I’d regret, so I didn’t speak as she left the kitchen. I heard the sound of chair legs against the floor as she sat at the dining table. I exhaled. She hadn’t totally abandoned me.
I dialled the number for Mr Zhāng with the phone on speaker.
‘Wéi?’
I struggled in broken Chinese to ask when we were to admit Harper to hospital for her surgery. As usual, his response was delivered so fast I couldn’t keep up. He ignored my attempts to interject, to ask for clarification, talking over the top of me.
Before I knew it, Bì Yù was back in the kitchen, shouting into the speaker. I had never seen her so angry before. Mr Zhāng seemed stunned into silence. Then the line went dead.
‘What’s going on?’ All I could muster was a whisper.
‘He said there was another problem with the donor; there’ll be another delay and he has to increase the fees. He also said that Harper’s tests showed she needs a kidney transplant as well. I told him he was a scumbag and asked for a refund. That’s when he hung up.’ Her face was pale.
A cacophony of emotions began to swell inside me and words came pouring out, unfiltered.
‘Go on – say I told you so, tell me how badly I’ve failed! Tell me how I’ve been ripped off, how I’ve squandered my inheritance and wasted everyone’s time. Tell me how unethical I’ve been, tell me how morally –’
‘This isn’t about you!’
Her words stopped me short. I stared at her, breathing hard. No, it wasn’t about me. What was I thinking? This was about Harper. I felt the gears shift in my mind.
‘Please, call him back and tell him Harper can’t wait any longer.’
‘I know you’re hurting, Marlowe, we all are.’
I hated that look she was giving me, the pity on her face.
‘You’re so simple,’ I snarled.
I watched Bì Yù’s face change as my insult sank in. I opened my mouth to apologise, but it was too late.
‘I’m tired of all this. Why don’t you just relearn the language your mother taught you and speak to him yourself? I’m sick of doing your dirty work for you.’
She strode from the room.
‘How dare you!’ I shouted at her back. I followed her into the living room. ‘How dare you bring Mum into this!’
‘Marlowe.’ Suddenly Harper was standing between us. ‘You don’t see with your mind and heart that you are the one who is upset about Mum.’ She was breathing quickly as she spoke, and I felt like my lungs were catching up. ‘You think you are fighting for me, but really you are fighting for Mum.’
Bì Yù must have put her up to this. She wouldn’t… she couldn’t…
‘Everything in your body is becoming dark and rotten with this.’
There wasn’t enough air. The room felt tight and small.
‘Stop it.’
‘Her body is gone and you are broken. Your heart is broken.’
Shut up. Just shut up.
‘I don’t need to listen to this.’
‘You never listen!’ Harper strode out of the room.
I tried to count, to empty my mind, but it wasn’t working.
Mā ma. You felt close. Too close.
‘Why do you think you are going to the ends of the earth to save Harper when she doesn’t even want to be saved?’ Bì Yù asked softly.
Mā ma. The longing made me want to heave.
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘No.’ I tried to think of something to say but my mind was blank.
I went to Harper’s room – I had to tell her she was wrong; this was not about Mum, it was about her.
But Harper’s room was empty.
Empty.
I went back to the living room.
‘Where did Harper go?’ I felt a curl in my stomach.
Bì Yù’s eyes widened.
‘Where did Harper go?’ I repeated.
‘Harper!’ I ran through the apartment, calling her name, searching. I could hear Bì Yù doing the same.
We met again in the living room. ‘She’s too weak to go anywhere by herself,’ I said frantic. I felt my knees buckle and before I knew it I was on the floor.
‘Marlowe!’ Bì Yù ran to me. ‘I’ll go after her – she can’t have got far. You stay here in case she comes back.’ Bì Yù he
aded for the front door.
How could I have let this happen?
I went back to Harper’s room, hoping to find some clue to her disappearance.
On the desk, her autobiographical storybook lay open.
In my drems I smell roses. Their sweetnes is all arond me when I wake up in the morning and it stays with me when I go to sleep at nite time.
Did mum smell roses when her body was sick?
My body is doing strang things like rite now my moth and tong are watering for apples diped in salt. Wài Pó says this is wat mum was eeting when I was inside her belly. This is how I no that she is coming for me soon.
I wrote about the man with no fase called deth. But now I wonder in my mind and in my hart if he is a she and she is mum?
I have been thinking a lot in my mind about what hapens when the body is no more. I think to my self about the spases in betweene things. A plase in between plases. This is were storys come from. This is were mum lives. This is were I think I will go wen my time in this body is over. I was scared of this plase and somtimes I still am, but most of all I am scared for my Marlowe.
Even tho I have desided to do the trans-plant, I still ask myself if I shuld get this new hart? This hart that belongs to someone else? The hart that has its own loves and does not no about the things that I love. But I worry about leeving Marlowe alone becos she does not no how to here the mesages from the in between. How to reed the signs. If I go, she will not no how to here my hum. She will not here me wispering in the trees, she will not see me in someone elses feet when they have the gliter nail polish on and she will not feel me under the lite of our one and only moon. My Marlowe does not under stand these things.
My hart is broken, but so is Marlowes. I think in my mind that hers broke when she was 9 years old when mum left her body. Marlowe has never been abel to fix her broken hart, but I can. I can fix it for her. But I will never tell her this. She does not no how to here it.
There is still so much I want to tell her. I want to say I have seen her long hope and it has been like two big arms holding me. I want to tell her I am sorry about my hart and that even though I have the Up syndrome, I could not stop it from being sick.
