by Hua Laura Wu
Zhongyue’s mother used to work hard, and, in her son’s home, her old habits died hard. Every day, her priorities were cooking a big meal and waiting for her son and daughter-in-law to come back from work. She still practised her way of cooking, stir-frying dishes in highly heated oil with all kinds of spices: ginger, onion, garlic, star-anise, and red and green chillies. Often, smoke would fill the kitchen and the smoke detector would ring loudly. Even after a whole night, the smell from the cooking of a meal wouldn’t go away. After a while, the furniture and walls were covered with a layer of sticky grease.
Xiaoxiao asked her to lower the heat. Zhongyue told her to boil more and stir-fry less. His mother answered back, telling them that their way wasn’t called cooking. Zhongyue’s mother would comply for a few days, then resume her old ways..
Then Xiaoxiao began to take Xiaoyue out to meals, bringing back some food for Zhongyue and his mother. The problem was solved. But now that she had no meals to cook, Zhongyue’s mother felt empty in her heart. She didn’t understand English and even had trouble speaking standard Chinese, so she didn’t like reading, watching TV, or going out. Every day she sat at home, waiting for her son to come back. When Zhongyue came home and saw his mother sitting motionlessly in the lightless living room, her eyes flashing like a cat’s, he sighed and told his mother that electricity was inexpensive and keeping a light on didn’t cost much money.
Lately, his mother had learned to smoke. She saved on everything except for her cigarettes, which she had brought with her from China. She had brought two large suitcases, and cigarettes had filled half of one. Zhongyue’s mother only smoked a particular kind of cigarette produced in Yunnan because it was strong. She loved smoking while walking around in the house, and the ash from her cigarettes fell onto the carpet. Because of her poor eyesight, she walked over the fallen ash, leaving traces on the carpet. Xiaoxiao bought seven ashtrays and placed one in each room, but his mother always forgot to use them. Her teeth had yellow stains all over, and whenever she smiled, her blackened gums were visible. The cups, towels, pillows, and bedding that she used had a strong odour of smoke.
Zhongyue’s mother had dreamed about having a daughter, but instead she had three sons. Her eldest son and second son had sons, too. Only the youngest son, Zhongyue, had a daughter. Zhongyue’s mother was very fond of Xiaoyue, her granddaughter. Whenever she saw her, she wanted to hug and kiss her, but Xiaoyue bent herself like a porcupine and asked her grandma not to touch her. Xiaoyue spoke English. Zhongyue’s mother didn’t understand her, but she knew that Xiaoyue’s body language meant she was avoiding her. Her extended hands hung in the air. Raising his eyebrows, Zhongyue told his daughter that he had been held by her grandma when he was a child. Why did she become a princess, and untouchable? Xiaoxiao didn’t look at Zhongyue, but told his mother, because she had never lived with a smoker, Xiaoyue wasn’t used to smoke. Hearing that, Zhongyue’s mother was speechless. She did not dare to touch Xiaoyue after that.
Zhongyue’s mother’s visa was for six months, but after two months she said she wanted to leave. In fact, she hoped her son would ask her to stay. But Xiaoxiao didn’t say anything, so Zhongyue kept silent. Despite her poor eyesight, Zhongyue’s mother could see clearly that in her son’s home, her daughter-in-law ruled the roost.
Zhongyue’s mother had arrived after the Chinese New Year, and she left in the spring. Her flight was in the early morning. It was cold. Xiaoxiao and Xiaoyue were still in bed. Alone, Zhongyue drove his mother to the airport. Along the way, Zhongyue felt like he couldn’t breathe, as if something was blocking his throat. Every breath sounded like a sigh.
After parking the car, they still had a lot of time. Zhongyue took his mother to a restaurant at the airport for breakfast. It was very expensive, and the food was foreign to her. Zhongyue’s orders filled a table, but his mother hadn’t gotten used to Canadian food. She only touched a little and then asked Zhongyue to pack everything up. Not wanting to waste the tea, she drank it up. Finally, she stretched her shaky hand over the table to grasp Zhongyue’s. His mother’s hand was very dry; the back of it was covered with blue veins that looked like earthworms. There was soil under her nails—it had come from the backyard when she had swept up the leftover leaves the day before.
“My baby, listen to her and follow her. When I was young, your dad followed me, too,” said Zhongyue’s mother.
She had become pregnant with Zhongyue at the age of forty. She’d never called his name; she just called him Baby. The word, baby, was like a stone that broke his heart; his tears welled up silently. He ran to a washroom and sat on the toilet. He stuck a tissue over his mouth and wept violently.
Back at the table, he took an envelope out of his pocket and placed it in his mother’s pocket.
Two thousand U.S. dollars. “Five hundred for each brother. You keep a thousand,” he said to her.
Then Zhongyue accompanied his mother in the long line for the security check. The mother and son didn’t speak. Before his mother crossed the gate, Zhongyue said hesitatingly, “When my brothers write or call, don’t mention anything about the money.”
After seeing his mother off, Zhongyue left the airport. It was a chilly spring day. The morning sun was like cold water; the wind made new branches quiver. Zhongyue looked in his pocket for a tissue to blow his nose, but instead he felt the envelope with the money—his mother had put it back in his pocket.
That day, Zhongyue sat in the car and started the engine. For a long time he didn’t move the car, and it puffed like a person panting. White smoke rose in the window, gathered together, and gradually dissipated. His vision suddenly became clear. At that moment, he realized his own unhappiness, an unhappiness that was separate from Xiaoxiao’s.
So, two months later, when Xiaoxiao proposed the separation, he didn’t object, although he was reluctant.
Xiaoyue,
The aurora is the luminous phenomenon of the earth’s upper atmosphere in high latitudes. It’s a result of the interaction between the solar wind and Earth’s magnetic field. The solar wind is a stream of charged particles ejected from the sun. When it blows over the earth, it is trapped in Earth’s magnetic field, which is in the shape of a funnel. Its leading edges face Earth’s north and south magnetic poles, so charged particles from the sun move through the magnetic funnel into the earth’s polar regions. The upper atmosphere in the two poles ejects light when it is bombarded by the solar wind. The light occurring in the northern hemisphere is called the northern lights, and in the southern hemisphere, the southern lights. One of my reasons for coming to Sioux Lookout was to see the northern lights, but I haven’t yet gotten my chance. It’s said that every year young people come from all over the world to have their weddings on the night when the aurora occurs. They believe that if their marriages and pregnancies take place under the northern lights , it will bring them the most intelligent children in the world.
For nearly two months after the powwow, Zhongyue hadn’t seen Dawa, but he saw Neil from time to time. Once a week, he went to the Whitefish Elementary School to train teachers. After each training session, he would give Neil individual help to strengthen his sign language and his lip-reading ability. But one week, Neil wasn’t at the school. The teacher said that Neil’s mother had brought him to the Thunder Bay Hospital for an annual check-up; because he had been entered into the hospital’s database for premature children, he went through a complicated follow-up examination each year.
That day, Zhongyue had come home from work and was about to cook supper when he saw dark clouds out the window, clouds that almost touched the ground. He suddenly remembered that he had a washed bed sheet and hung it up on the balcony—people here didn’t like to use dryer, and every household had a clothesline. He rushed out to collect the sheet. As soon as he had pulled off the line, rain poured down. In the distance, it looked like shining white curtains, but near Zhongyue it looked more like sticks dropping into Pe
nguin Lake, making numerous holes. The lake was churned like boiling water.
Before he could shut the door, it was pushed open. Two completely soaked people, Dawa and Neil, rushed in. Their clothes were like thin silk on their bodies, and their teeth were chattering, making loud sounds. The water from their heads and bodies dropped onto the floor and formed muddy circles.
Zhongyue quickly took out two large bath towels, one for each of his visitors and sent them into the bathroom. Then he found a sweater and a pair of sweatpants in the closet and placed them near the bathroom door for Dawa to wear. He rummaged through his clothes, but he couldn’t find a suitable garment for Neil, so he pulled out a blanket from the bed and put it near the door.
Neil came out first. He was tightly wrapped in the blanket. Only his face was exposed, small like the palm of Zhongyue’s hand and red from the hot water. His little feet moved quickly, carrying his body in the blanket, like a wound up electric toy. His ugly face could have softened even the hardest of hearts. Zhongyue lifted Neil onto the sofa and used a small hair dryer to blow his hair dry. Before long, Neil fell asleep on his lap. His light breathing made Zhongyue’s leg itch, and his saliva dripped onto Zhongyue’s pants.
Dawa spent more time in the bathroom. Eventually she came out, already wearing Zhongyue’s sweater. The sleeves were rolled up, but the hem reached her knees. In such a large garment, Dawa looked thin and small, like a girl who hadn’t yet reached adulthood. Dawa sat near Neil’s feet and unwound her braids to dry her hair. Zhongyue hadn’t ever seen such long hair; it was like shred of clouds moving in the wind. After it was dried, she coiled it up into a big bun on the back of her head and Dawa’s steam-covered face was revealed. It was pretty.
Dawa bent over to shake Neil, who sat up, but didn’t know where he was. Dawa tapped Neil’s face, saying that he had forgotten what he wanted to tell Dr. Chen. Neil suddenly woke up and opened his mouth, giggling.
“I, excellent.” Neil gave Zhongyue a thumbs up, pointing to his own head.
Dawa couldn’t help but chuckle, and her laughter was like a marble rolling all the way down a smooth glass surface. If no one blocked it off, it wouldn’t stop. She laughed until tears welled out of her eyes. Zhongyue took an old newspaper, rolled it, and playfully tapped the back of her head with it.
After she’d stopped laughing, Dawa finally told Zhongyue that Neil’s IQ, which had been tested in the Thunder Bay Hospital, was at the normal level. His only problem was his ability to communicate verbally.
“It means you’re a big bucket full of water,” Zhongyue said to Neil. “The tap is broken, so the water can’t come out. Let me repair your faucet.”
As Zhongyue spoke, he rubbed Neil’s hair, which looked like a chick’s nest. As Neil shouted “repair,” he jumped off the sofa and fell on the floor. His blanket dropped off, exposing his naked body. His numerous ribs were like piles of stones; his penis was like a string bean swinging back and forth. Dawa picked up the blanket and chased her son. Catching him, she covered the blanket over Neil and then scolded him: “Don’t you feel ashamed? You’re old enough.” Like a fish in a net, Neil struggled inside the blanket and finally managed to stretch out one hand.
Pointing to Zhongyue, he said, “He has, too.”
Dawa stifled a laugh and turned her eyes away from Zhongyue. She asked if he had eaten. He said not yet. Dawa took out a package from her basket and said that they could roast two pounds of beef ribs that she had bought from the Old John’s. There was a fire pit in front of the house that he probably hadn’t used. Dawa said that they could dry their clothes with the fire as well. From Zhongyue’s kitchen, she got knives, forks, and an iron rack. The three of them put more warm clothes on and moved a bench closer to the fire pit. Then they cleaned the pit, got wood, and made a fire.
The wood was wet from the rain. Zhongyue and Dawa added more woodchips to start the fire, but only smoke billowed around. Zhongyue’s tears and runny nose made Dawa chuckle. “This is the way First Nations people smoke porcupines. You’re like a foolish porcupine. Do you have to sit facing the smoke?” Zhongyue changed his sitting position and felt much better.
The moisture in the wood gradually disappeared, and the fire picked up. Near the fire, Zhongyue formed a frame with several branches and hung Dawa’s and Neil’s wet clothes on them. Dawa began to barbecue the ribs. The blue flame licked the iron rack; the fat dripped down and made crackling noises. The air was immediately filled with the savoury aroma of the roasted meat.
Dawa grilled a piece of meat and threw it to Zhongyue. Then she got another piece ready and tossed it to Neil. He refused to eat his own piece—instead he wanted to grab the piece in Zhongyue’s hand. The meat was hot. Zhongyue stood up, tossing the piece of meat from hand to hand while he blew on it to cool it off. He nibbled on the rib little by little. Out of reach, Neil stomped his feet and shouted. Curving her mouth into a smile, Dawa said, “You’re a rare one, you know.” Zhongyue asked why. Dawa just laughed, but after a while she said that Zhongyue was the only person who treated Neil like a normal person and never spoiled him.
Zhongyue’s hands and mouth were full of grease. He tore off a piece of bread to clean his finger, and then put it into his mouth. “How can I? It’s better to treat him in a normal way. He’ll learn how to fight through his life and how to develop this ability so he can rely on it.”
Dawa cooked another sparerib, and, holding it with a metal rod, she handed it to Zhongyue. He didn’t manage catch it; the meat dropped. They both tried to retrieve it, and in doing so, Zhongyue touched Dawa’s arm. Dawa cried out and used her hand to shield her arm. Zhongyue thought Dawa had been burned by the fire, so he tried to open her hand. He rolled up her sleeve, and saw a bunch of injuries—small dots, side by side, huddled together like weathered flowers. They were new injuries, and the scabs had just formed. A thin, soft, pink layer was scratched and bleeding.
Zhongyue threw the rib into the fire pit dislodging the metal rack and sending sparks flying wildly around like moths. Dawa and Neil were startled.
“They are cigarette burns, right?”
Dawa looked up and saw Zhongyue’s eyes crack open. His face was twisted, and his hair was standing up like steel pins. She reached her shaky hand to his head and patted his hair. Zhongyue pushed her arm away, and Dawa stumbled to sit on the ground. Neil went to his mother and snuggled sheepishly on her knees. Dawa cuddled her son tightly. Both were as silent as stones. The fire weakened. The burned meat stank. Gradually the dark night fell, and the stars illuminated the hill range, the disturbed forest, and the dying fire in the pit.
Suddenly, lights appeared over the mountains, which were blurred by the night. The lights cast a long beam and it was hard to tell where it began and where it ended. Because it was quiet and peaceful, the lights as though they had been there a thousand years, even though they had just appeared, so unexpectedly. Neil jumped up and shouted, “Northern, northern, lights!”
Zhongyue placed his finger on his lips, and Neil became quiet. The aurora borealis gradually widened and brightened. All the colours on the earth were swallowed by that light, leaving only a blue-green haze that filled the sky. Under the aurora borealis, everything suddenly became small: mountains turned into hills; lakes changed into droplets of water; the woods were only grass.
How about people? Zhongyue thought. In the eyes of this light, people are just crickets and ants. Any worries that people may seem to be unmovable boulders in human eyes, but, in the view of the light, they are just a fine dust, smaller than an ant or cricket. Zhongyue was shocked by his own thoughts; his body actually quivered.
The wind picked up, and a loud crackling sound rose up from the forest. After a while, Zhongyue understood that it was the footsteps of the light, which soon changed and became a colourful ribbon. First it was red, then yellow, and then orange and purple. As Zhongyue watched, the ribbon transformed and then became intertwined, dancing across
the sky. Sometimes it moved; sometimes it rested. When it was quiet, the aurora borealis was at peace and harmony, like at the beginning of the universe. When it moved, it looked like a colourful skirt waving in the wind.
The northern lights came and went very quickly. In as long as it took to smoke a cigarette, it all dissipated. The starry night was the same. It was like a wonderful opera that started and ended unexpectedly. It seemed as though the audience had just got enough time to follow the plot before the curtain was closed. Nothing more appeared—only silence.
Neil had fallen asleep on Dawa, who carried him into the house and then came out to pick up the clothes from the branches. They were almost dry, so Dawa folded and placed them into the basket. Zhongyue watched her fingers as they moved. Her two black eyes were deep and empty, and all the emotions behind them had become still and silent.
“Ten years ago, I met a monk at Qinghai Lake,” Dawa said. “He said my life was too hard. He said that men of paper or flesh couldn’t repress me. Only an iron man would conquer me.”
Dawa sighed and whispered, “Joy’s the iron man. Joy and Neil are my debt in this life. I owe them, and I can only pay them back slowly.
Zhongyue searched for some words to comfort her, but he found nothing to say. He could only walk over to Dawa and gently hold her in his arms. Her scarf fell down, and he smelled the last rays of sunlight from the petals of the chrysanthemum in her hair. In this boundless world, he and she had met on this vast northern land. She had her injuries, and so did he. He couldn’t cure her, and she couldn’t cure him. He watched closely as she climbed on a piece of decaying wood towards a bottomless abyss, but he couldn’t save her.