by Hua Laura Wu
They entered the room, but it was empty. Zhongyue called Neil, but no one answered. The social worker placed his finger on his lips, making an earthshaking whistle. In an instance, Zhongyue heard an answering whistle from somewhere above. Looking up, Zhongyue saw a boy, like a monkey, sitting on a ladder in the corner and frowning; the child’s dark eyes stared down at him. Face to face, Zhongyue made a sign: “Good morning.” The boy returned some ambiguous words. Zhongyue didn’t understand it and wondered if it was Ojibwa. Stifling a laugh, the social worker said it was actually foul language, insulting the other’s mother. Ignore him, he suggested. Zhongyue disregarded the boy. Sitting down, he pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. He placed them on the table one by one, purposely showing the cover of each. They were photographs of NBA stars; each of them included the athlete’s signature.
A rustling noise came from behind him. Zhongyue knew that Neil had come down, but he didn’t turn his head. Calmly he shuffled the cards and displayed all the cover pictures on the table. Then he mixed them up and showed the pictures again. Soon Zhongyue felt a warm breath on the nape of his neck. It was Neil. Zhongyue collected the cards and put them back in his pocket. Turning his head, he looked directly at Neil, face to face.
Neil was a little short with bandy legs and a large head. When he looked at others, his eyes rolled up, and wrinkles formed on his forehead, making him look like a wizened old man. He had big ears; according to a Chinese saying, big ears brought fortune, but in his case they only decorated his head.
Zhongyue asked Neil one word at a time, “What is the number of Michael Jordan’s jersey?”
Neil didn’t answer. Zhongyue repeated the signs. Still, no answer came from Neil, but his eyes fixed on Zhongyue’s pocket. Zhongyue felt as if his pocket had several holes punched through it. “If you let me check your ears, this deck of cards is yours.”
Neil’s poker face remained intact, but his body gradually lowered and finally, he sat on a stool. Zhongyue changed into his white lab coat, and, holding an otoscope, he pinched Neil’s ear. Then what happened was just like in a Hollywood action film, but only in slow motion. After a long while, Zhongyue began to understand. At first, he thought he saw a reddish-brown leopard leap from the stool. Both the stool and leopard arched into the air in a beautiful curve. The stool fell onto the floor, but the leopard didn’t.
The animal jumped straight onto him. Zhongyue wanted to duck, but it was too late. The leopard’s eyes were only two inches away from his. He saw its eyes split open; the whites of the eyes flowed out, drop by drop. The leopard was pressing down on Zhongyue. He wanted to push it away, but he couldn’t move—his hand had suddenly gone numb.
When he finally sat up, the leopard was gone and the stool was in pieces. The social worker held his wrist tightly and asked where the first-aid kit was. Zhongyue pointed to the top cabinet. The social worker let go of Zhongyue’s hand in order to find a bandage. It was then that Zhongyue noticed a row of pod-like petals, red, on his white lab coat sleeve. He knew they were tooth marks.
Zhongyue said to the social worker, “Go find Neil. If you can’t, call 911.”
He bandaged his own wrist and drove to the clinic in town. He touched his pocket and found no cards. The pain in his wrist became more intense, like needles pricking his veins. His heart pounding, he ground his teeth, thinking about many ways he could punish that little boy.
Xiaoyue,
I’ve finally learned how Sioux Lookout got its name. In fact, I should’ve guessed. This is a war-related name. Three or four hundred years ago, the Sioux tribe often attacked the Ojibwa tribe. To defend themselves, the Ojibwa people built a lookout here. Doesn’t it sound like the story of China’s Great Wall beacon towers? These two tribes in the northern wilderness killed each other for a long time, until the Europeans entered their territories. I’m thinking about the history and the people who were buried here. Their lives were totally different from those who live in our cities. I always feel my heart throb, as if I am disturbing unsettled souls.
Zhongyue reached the clinic and had his wound treated. When he got back, it was afternoon. The pain killer and anti-inflammation injection made him drowsy. He fell asleep on the couch. In his sleep, he suddenly heard someone push open the door. As he sat up, he saw Xiaoxiao in her bright blue, down-filled coat, a snow-white cashmere scarf wrapped around her neck. All he could see of her face were her two black eyes and her bangs. Surprised, he asked Xiaoxiao why she didn’t call beforehand. Xiaoxiao didn’t speak, but turned her face away. Zhongyue asked, “Don’t you feel warm? You are wearing so much.”
Xiaoxiao turned around, took a look at him, and said, “I’m cold. My heart feels cold actually.”
He tried to hold her hands, but she didn’t allow him. Then he woke up knowing it was a good dream, but a dream nonetheless.
It was completely dark. Looking out the skylight, he saw that the night was clear. A crescent moon was surrounded by some torches. Zhongyue looked out the skylight again and realized that the stars he could see were larger and brighter than those you could see in the city. Out the window, he could see Penguin Lake, which had changed and now had fierce, dark waves madly crashing against the shore. The rocks on both sides were swallowed by the dark lake. Forest sounds rumbled as though rocks were falling down from the mountains. He shook from head to toe. The log house seemed to be as fragile as a paper cage, as though a finger could break through it. Startled, he got up and turned the light on. From the kitchen, he found an ice chisel and steak knife, and placed them at a handy distance.
He thought about going to the municipal government and inquiring about the registration for a gun. In this wild and barbaric place, only a gun made a person brave; everything else was bullshit.
At that moment, his stomach growled so wildly that he remembered he hadn’t even eaten lunch. The refrigerator was empty since he hadn’t had time to do any grocery shopping. Perhaps the store on the street corner was already closed. He picked up a packet of instant noodles left over from his trip and mixed them in a bowl of hot water. He wolfed down the tasteless food, but he still felt hungry. No matter how lofty my ideals, I’m still vulnerable to hunger, he sighed.
He began to sweat and he remembered his dream in which Xiaoxiao looked the same as she had when they first started dating. They both were sophomores, but in different departments. He studied liberal arts, but she was in science. He didn’t understand her courses, and she didn’t understand his, but they had things to say to one another since they had other common interests. They didn’t know where or when they had first crossed each other’s paths, and now he didn’t know how they had gotten so far from one another. They no longer had anything to say to each other. She didn’t share her ideas with him, and he didn’t share his with her. Remembering that, in his dream, Xiaoxiao had said her heart was cold, Zhongyue felt disheartened. He couldn’t help but make a phone call to Toronto.
It was his daughter, Xiaoyue, who answered the phone.
They only spoke a little before Xiaoyue got impatient. She said she wanted to watch Nim’s Island. The tape needed to be returned to the library the next day. Zhongyue asked if her mother was in. Xiaoyue said with hesitation that her mother was upstairs, and that a male friend named Xiang was keeping her company. “Do you want me to ask her to come down?” Xiaoyue asked. After a pause, Zhongyue said that there was no need to do that—he had nothing important to say.
After he hung up, he sat motionless on the couch, realizing that Xiaoxiao’s heart had become completely cold toward him. How could she have gotten together with Xiang so quickly? Xiaoxiao had been slow to act in the past. It had been two years from their initial handshake to the first time they made love. She was different now, experienced. He had helped her gain the experience that had matured her. And in the end, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy her maturity.
That thought made him sick. His head throbbed, and he felt as if his te
mples had been pinched by the two large pincers of a mantis. He laid a thick layer of Tiger Balm on his temples, making his tears stream down. His headache eased off, but the pain in his wrist worsened. The pain was stronger now than it had been in the daytime. It was like a knife cutting rather than a needle pricking. It was a kind of slow torture, in and then out, but not cutting through. Zhongyue thought that perhaps the medicinal effect of the painkillers had expired, so he got up and took two more painkillers. But they didn’t work and he felt colder and colder.
He took off his coat and went to bed, covering himself with a quilt. Then a sticky sweat spread over his body. Kicking off the quilt and partially exposing his body, he felt cold again. On and off, he struggled with the quilt. He tossed and turned all night without sleep. As he was about to finally fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning, he heard something move outside.
His eyes were closed, but suddenly he was all ears. He had adapted to the dark environment, and as soon as the suspicious rustling noise began again, he knew right away that it was not wind, water, leaves, or birds. It was a person approaching his door, making him edgy. The nearest neighbour was five minutes away by car.
He got up quietly, switched on his cell phone, and, by the light from the screen, dialled 911. One press on the button would do the job. Then he picked up the ice chisel on the end table. Bending over slightly, he moved to the door, his eyes firmly on the peephole. The sight through the hole made each piece of his hairs stand up like porcupine’s quills. He saw a huge glass, bead-like eye, an eye against his own. He heard his teeth chattering.
Zhongyue pulled the door open suddenly. Unexpectedly, the person outside the door fell into the house and was thrown toward him. His ice chisel dropped onto the floor, making a loud noise. In the dim light, he saw a big woman who wore a scarf and a blouse over a long gown. Turning on the light, he noticed that she had a straw basket on her back. After she put it down, she looked smaller immediately. “Who are you?” Zhongyue asked warily.
Before speaking, the woman bent down so that her head reached her knees, and coughed violently. The dry cough made her body shake in her black clothes, like a woodpecker pecking at the old, hard trunk of a tree. Bang, bang. Finally Zhongyue couldn’t stand it and handed her a cup of water. She drank it up, and her cough calmed down.
The woman took off her scarf and gently tossed it aside. Some water droplets splashed onto Zhongyue’s face. It was dew. The woman’s face revealed that she worked outdoors all year around. He immediately noticed her cheekbones and hair. Her cheekbones were high and looked like they had been carved from wood, with sunspots on each side. Her hair was very long, like withered grass, and was coiled around on her head twice in a thick braid. The end of her braid was tucked behind her ears, and a small yellow daisy decorated her hair. As the woman spoke, the pink gums in her mouth showed. Her face looked friendly.
“Dr. Chen, I’m Neil’s mother. I’m here so early disturbing you because I have to hurry to work.”
Her English was not good. She tried to say a few sentences, but it seemed as if she were trying to climb a mountain and cross an ocean. Zhongyue only understood the three words —doctor, Neil, and mother—but these three words were enough to help him decipher her message. The First Nations people in the area called all those associated with the hospital Doctor—it was more or less the same in China. Zhongyue didn’t bother to correct her. His hand on his mouth, he yawned, and wondered how long it would have taken her to write an apology letter in English.
The woman didn’t wait for Zhongyue to respond, but walked up to him and rolled up his sleeve to check the bite. She removed the thin gauze. The flesh looked pink, and it was swollen with a yellow liquid. The woman also placed her hand on Zhongyue’s forehead and uttered: “Bullshit.” He did not know if the woman was swearing at his wound or at her son because of what he’d done.
Pulling a small bag out of her pocket, the woman fished into it and took out some herbal leaves. As she crumpled the leaves in her palm, a pulpy liquid oozed from them. She coated his wound with the mashed herb. It stung! Zhongyue cried out and pushed the woman away. It was as if she had rubbed salt into a wound. When the burning sensation faded, a cool feeling took its place, and he felt his cloudy mind suddenly clear.
“This is an Indigenous herbal medicine called ‘squirrel tail.’ It can stop bleeding. It is also an anti-inflammatory. And it works fine.”
Zhongyue listened with surprise. After a while, he realized she was speaking to him in Chinese.
“You … have you been to China?” he stammered.
The women laughed, her gums glistening. “I came from China. I’m a Tibetan. I can’t speak good Chinese.”
Zhongyue was surprised yet again. After some minutes, he asked, “How long have you been here? How did you come?”
The woman didn’t answer, but instead removed a few things from her straw backpack and placed them in the refrigerator. “These are vegetable and meat dishes. They go well together. You can cook the rice yourself. One container a day. It’s enough for a week.”
The woman stacked them carefully and then wiped her face with her scarf. “Doctor Chen, Neil was born prematurely, only one pound ten ounces. Converted into the Chinese measurement, that’s three quarters of a kilogram. He spent his childhood in the hospital. He suffered so much, and he is afraid of people in medical uniforms. Unfortunately, you wore a white coat.”
As the woman spoke, the freckles on her face gradually darkened, and she looked sad. “I’d like to ask you for help, Dr. Chen. Can you also teach me sign language? Neil will be in the rehabilitation language class. Teachers will use sign language in their instruction. Neil will learn it. If I don’t, he won’t be able to use it at home. Only for two weeks. When school starts, I won’t disturb you. I can cook for you, and do laundry for you in exchange. I start work at nine in the morning. but I can come here at seven. One and a half hours should be plenty for me to do what needs to be done.”
Zhongyue sighed. He said that no one could learn sign language overnight. Even if she could learn it quickly, she would forget it easily if she didn’t practise often. In two weeks, one could only learn the very basic signs. If she really wanted to learn, it would be better if the whole family came, so they could practise together.
The woman nodded, saying that she would bring Neil and start the following day.
“Is Neil’s father coming?”
She shook her head, saying that only she and Neil would come. She sounded determined. Zhongyue couldn’t find a reason to refuse her.
The woman wrapped her scarf around her head and picked up the basket. As she stepped outside, she turned and added, “My name is Dawa. It has the same sound in both Chinese and English.”
Leaning against the door, Zhongyue watched the woman walk away, leaving soft wet footprints on the weeds covered with morning dew. The sun in the north, thick and heavy, blanketed the woman and the trees with its golden rays.
Xiaoyue,
Dad has always felt that sign language can show a person’s personality and emotions the best. The spoken language is polluted by the choice of vocabulary and intonation. The true meaning can be disguised. But sign language flows directly from the heart, it cannot be disguised as something else. I often see colours and hear sounds from the sign language.
Mother: right palm open; place the thumb of the right hand against the chin. Wiggle the other four fingers while signing. All the things related to women use this action, a little bit like the left side in a Chinese character.
Father: right hand open; place the thumb of the right hand against the forehead. All the things related to men use this action.
Sitting in the doorway, Dawa was learning sign language from Zhongyue. Zhongyue was squatting on the stone steps just below her. All he could see were Dawa’s feet. Her toes were open and webbed, like a duck’s. The smell of sweat drifted from her toes and ma
de Zhongyue’s nose itch. The summer had left its mark on Dawa’s feet. They were dark, and the parts that were outside the shoes were even darker and shinier.
When the heat reached the fifty-two degrees north, it lost its energy. The wind brought some coolness with it in both the morning and the evening. Dawa wrapped her head with a headdress all year round, protecting herself from heat in summer or cold in winter. His eyes gradually looking up, Zhongyue noticed the sunflower design on Dawa’s headscarf. The flower’s yellow petals were tightly squeezed together, as if they were desperately escaping from an invisible disaster. It was the only colourful garment she wore. Out of the corner of his eye, he also saw Neil standing in the meadow only ten steps away., He was making a rope with sweet grass.
Neil hadn’t spoken to Zhongyue. Dawa had waved at him a couple of times, but he had refused to come closer. But they had communicated in other ways. As matter of fact, Neil and Zhongyue had been engaged in a kind of dialogue, in their own way. From the corners of their eyes, they sought each other, looked away, and then returned the look, in the same way a radar tracks signals.
Morning: raise the left arm horizontally. It stands for the land. Have the right thumb open and the other four fingers close together. Slowly raise the hand. It means the sun rises from the ground.
Spring: raise the left arm horizontally. It stands for the land. Form a circle with the left fingers. Pass the right hand through the left hand circle; then spread open the right hand fingers. It means the plant comes out from the ground.