A shiver of ice ran through me. I felt my world crashing. ‘You are to stay in your room without anything to eat until your father comes home,’ she commanded.
Disgraced and miserable, I sat alone in my room looking down at Jackie restlessly pacing the garden. Time went by. I heard the sound of laughter and the clink of plates and cups drifting up from below. Afternoon tea was being served to Fourth Brother and Little Sister in their room, which we had nicknamed the antechamber. A while later, Fourth Brother appeared on his balcony carrying a plate of assorted goodies he no longer fancied. I watched him toss sausage rolls, chicken sandwiches and chestnut cake with nonchalance to a delighted Jackie, who jumped to catch the morsels between his powerful jaws. I drooled with hunger and longing as I imagined the delicacies sliding down my throat. Finally, I sat there with my eyes tightly shut, wishing with all my heart that when I opened them again, I would be Jackie and Jackie would be me.
Later, after Father returned home from work, he came into my room in a towering rage with the dog whip Hans (the dog‐trainer) gave him last Christmas looped around his arm. When he questioned me I could not lie. He ordered me to lie face down on my bed and he whipped me. As I lay there trembling with pain and shame, I saw a rat scurrying across the floor, its eyes bright and alert and its long tail trailing behind. I almost screamed out in terror but bit my lip and remained silent throughout the punishment.
‘Unfortunately,’ Father announced, ‘your aunt is a bad influence. She gives you money behind our backs and continues to spoil you. I’m afraid you two will have to be separated.’
I looked up at him in utter desolation. The fabric of my life was about to be torn apart. My heart felt heavy with the most excruciating pain. But he merely relooped the whip over his arm and walked out.
Chapter Fourteen
Class President
What happened to you yesterday?’ Wu Chun‐mei whispered as we took our seats in the classroom to begin our lessons. ‘We waited and waited for you to cut the cake, only to find out from your mother that you weren’t coming back . . .’
My face was still smarting from Niang’s slaps. Was it my imagination or was my friend looking at me strangely? I couldn’t help wondering if my face was bruised or swollen. Did she suspect something?
I opened my book and hid behind it as I muttered, ‘Sorry. My mother wanted me to help around the house. You know how mothers are . . .’ I was searching desperately for a plausible excuse when Teacher Wong inadvertently came to my rescue.
‘Yen Jun‐ling ()! Wu Chun‐mei! Stop talking at once and start paying attention!’ she commanded in a loud voice. ‘Now I want all of you to listen carefully. Tomorrow is a very special day because it is Election Day. Tomorrow is the day when you will cast your votes to choose your class president. Do you remember what your headmistress told you at general assembly two weeks ago? To refresh your memory, she has instructed me to read that part of her speech again.
‘Being class president of your grade, the sixth grade, is a rare honour. To begin with, this year will be your final year at Sheng Xin Primary School. On graduation, most of you will go on to first grade at Aurora Middle School next door. Yours is the only class permitted to elect its president democratically: the same as in the United States of America. The head girls of all the lower forms are chosen by their form mistress. Only in your form, the sixth and highest form, do we allow a free election to be held. Instead of suggesting names to you, we grant you the right to nominate your own candidates. The winner will be president not only of your class, but the head girl of our entire school!
‘The election will be held in our classroom during the first period tomorrow. I have brought some coloured balloons and large sheets of scrap‐paper. During recess and for one hour after school today, you are permitted to stay in your classroom and blow up balloons or work on your campaign posters if you so desire. Let this be your first experience of “democracy in action”.’
On hearing this, Wu Chun‐mei and I looked at each other with dismay. When our headmistress first made the announcement two weeks earlier, my friend had immediately nominated me as a candidate and volunteered to be my campaign manager. However, her birthday had driven all else from our minds and we had forgotten all about it.
Unfortunately Chen Lei‐lei, our chief rival, had not forgotten. Her father was a military general in the Nationalist army. She came to school every morning in a chauffeured black Cadillac complete with bullet‐proof glass, escorted by an armed, white Russian bodyguard.
Between periods, Chen Lei‐lei handed out chocolate bars, beef jerky, pencils and bookmarks to the whole class. I, of course, had nothing to give to anybody, not even to Wu Chun‐mei.
During recess Teacher Wong wrote on the blackboard in big characters: TOMORROW IS FREE ELECTION DAY FOR CLASS PRESIDENT! COME AND CAST YOUR VOTES! We blew up balloons and hung them from window‐ledges and overhead light fixtures. We wrote giant characters with brush and ink on huge posters – VICTORY! DEMOCRACY! FREE VOTE! – and stuck them to the walls. Our classroom looked colourful and festive. We were proud when we saw the lower‐formers gawking enviously through the window.
When the bell rang at the end of our last class, Wu Chun‐mei said, ‘Yen Jun‐ling! You’d better make a speech before everyone goes home. Teacher Wong said we could stay for one hour after school. Now is your chance!’
I was nervous but I knew I had to seize the opportunity. So I said okay. Wu Chun‐mei climbed onto her chair and made an announcement. To our amazement, everyone stayed to listen, including Teacher Wong.
I tried to keep calm but my mouth felt dry and my heart was pounding as I changed places with Wu Chun‐mei and stood on her chair.
‘Fellow classmates!’ I began. ‘Wu Chun‐mei has nominated me as a candidate for class president. She doesn’t know this but I think she should be the candidate instead of me. Not only is she a natural leader and a superb linguist, she is also our school champion in shuttlecock, ping‐pong and badminton. Compared to her, I am truly a nobody. My only attribute is that I have never been absent from school in the five years I’ve been coming here. The reason for this is because I love my school and prefer to be here than anywhere else in the world. If Wu Chun‐mei is elected, I shall try to persuade her to donate some of her old books so that we can start a school library where we can go and read if we feel like it.’
There was applause and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chen Lei‐lei preparing to make her speech. I got down from my chair and whispered to Wu Chun‐mei, ‘I’m sorry but I have to go home now. I’ve already stayed longer than I should. My mother will be very angry if I’m late.’
‘What’s this about me being class president all of a sudden?’ Wu Chun‐mei asked.
‘I meant every word I said. You deserve it more than anyone else.’
‘We’ll see about that! But do you really have to go? Can’t you stay for another half hour?’
‘I wish I could! You have no idea how much I would love to stay!’ I had a sudden vision of Niang in her brown leopard’s dress lying in wait for me in my room and felt breathless with terror. ‘I am so sorry, I simply can’t stay any longer.’
Something in my voice touched her. ‘All right!’ she said. But as I hurried out with my school‐bag, she added, ‘Don’t worry! I’ll win this thing for you! Afterwards, let’s have a party in my house to celebrate. Mama says we still have a lot of cake left over from my birthday.’
I was so scared of being late, I ran all the way home. On entering the back door, I saw Ah Sun chopping vegetables in the kitchen. She stopped when she saw me and asked me to bring a thermos flask of hot water to my Aunt Baba.
‘Is she home already?’ I asked, delighted and surprised.
‘Yes. She came back early. This water has just boiled and is piping hot. Wait here while I fill the flask and you can take it up to her for me.’
I crept upstairs with the thermos flask and my school‐bag. Aunt Baba was sitting in an easy chair faci
ng the garden and knitting. I put down everything quietly by the door, then tiptoed softly behind her and clapped my hands over her eyes. ‘Boo!’
‘Silly girl! I’ve been waiting for you. Ye Ye and I have just been talking about you. I came home so late last night we didn’t have a proper talk. What did your father say to you yesterday after he whipped you?’
I looked at her lined, care‐worn face; her kind eyes peering out from behind thick glasses; and her straight black hair combed back into a bun with white strands above her ears. Somehow, I found it difficult to tell her. Besides, I didn’t really want to remember his words.
‘Nothing! He didn’t say much.’ I busied myself pouring us each a cup of hot water.
‘Close the door and come sit by me.’
‘I have to do my homework.’
She smoothed my hair as I sat down at my writing table and set out my books. ‘Tell me what your father said!’
‘I just told you! He said nothing! Look! Leave me alone and let me do my arithmetic! Okay? I must study. It’s very, very important.’
‘Why are you getting angry?’
‘I don’t know! I want to forget about everything that goes on here. I love my school. There I have friends! There I have fun! We sit together and discuss books and things. My friends respect me. My teachers like me. They’ve nominated me for class president! Tomorrow is election day! Please don’t ask any more questions!’
There was a knock on our door and Ye Ye entered. He regarded me with dismay as I lowered my head in shame at my outburst. I thought he would scold me but instead he turned to Aunt Baba. ‘Let her study! She won’t disappoint you. When you’ve reached my age, you know which children are weak and which are strong. Don’t ask her too many questions. Don’t criticise her or tear her down. I don’t want her to grow up like Big Sister. She is going to be different!’
The next day started off with a bang. We couldn’t wait to cast our votes! Although Teacher Wong had written the names of five nominated candidates on the blackboard, I knew my only true rival was Chen Lei‐lei. The others were simply too disorganised.
Teacher Wong placed a large cardboard box on her desk. She passed out small sheets of paper on which we wrote the name of our chosen candidate. One by one, we walked up to insert our ballots in a slit in the middle of the box. After all the votes were cast, Teacher Wong shook the box and read out each name while we tallied the total in our notebooks. Chen Lei‐lei, who had the best handwriting and topped the class in calligraphy, was ordered to write the number of votes against each candidate’s name on the blackboard.
The results were close but in the end it was really Wu Chun‐mei who won the election for me. Because of her athletic ability, she was very popular. Everyone wanted my friend on her team. By endorsing me instead of campaigning for herself, she was able to sway many who were undecided. Because she and I united and formed a team, we consolidated our votes and won.
All day we revelled in our success. Though I was a little fearful that Wu Chun‐mei would again mention the party at her house after school, she said nothing more about it. I walked home as soon as school was let out.
It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny and cool. Avenue Joffre bristled with trams, cars, rickshaws and pedicabs. The jagged leaves on the giant sycamore trees lining the boulevard were turning russet and golden‐brown in the autumn sunshine. I felt on top of the world as I bounced along the pavement, running and skipping now and then from sheer exuberance. What did it matter that I was a disgrace to my parents? How could anyone full of bad blood be elected class president? What was bad blood anyway? Niang predicted a hopeless future for me. Father said nothing would come of me. In spite of this, my classmates had chosen me as their chief representative. In her speech, Teacher Wong congratulated me on my triumph in our first election – democratically and honestly held – just as in America, the greatest country in the world. As she spoke, I thought, Though my parents tell me I’m worthless, I’ve proved them wrong! Of all the girls in my class, my classmates chose me to be their class president. I must forget about my home. In my other life – my real life – I’m not worthless. They respect me.
As soon as I entered my house by the back door, my happiness started to seep away. Cook and Ah Sun were in the kitchen cleaning a fish for dinner. They hardly looked up when I walked by. I greeted them with the news that I was now the newly elected president of my class. Their very posture reminded me that I was still in disgrace from the birthday‐party fiasco two days before. Cook waved me on impatiently, obviously less than impressed by my victory. ‘Can’t you see we’ve work to do?’ he asked brusquely.
I climbed the stairs and went into my room. When I closed the door and laid out my homework on my desk, the weight of the rest of the house seemed to slide off my heart. Shafts of sunlight flooded in from the large windows, exposing tiny particles of dust dancing in its wake. I took out my exercise book where today’s votes were tallied, relishing once more the thrill of the contest and the triumph of my victory earlier that morning. Head girl of Sheng Xin! How sweet life was!
In a dreamy trance, I placed some water in the receptacle of my stone writing‐tablet, grinding a stick of charcoal against its moistened flat surface to make fresh ink. I lubricated my brush and started on my calligraphy . . .
There was a knock on the door and Ah Sun entered at once without waiting, looking flustered and fearful.
‘A crowd of your little friends is downstairs in the living‐room. They’re asking for you,’ she whispered.
Her words were like a thunderbolt out of a clear blue sky. I stared at her dumbfounded. ‘Is my mother home?’ I finally blurted out.
‘I’m afraid she is. So is your father.’
‘Tell my friends I’m not home. Please send them away!’ I begged her desperately.
Ah Sun shook her head. ‘I tried but they know you’re here. Apparently they followed you home from school and saw you enter the door. They want to give you a surprise celebration party for winning the election for class president. Everyone has brought a gift. They mean well.’
‘I know.’ I felt panic‐stricken but had no choice but to follow Ah Sun to the parlour. As I crept down the stairs, I could hear the giggles and screams of my classmates resounding through the entire house.
I bit my lower lip and forced myself to go in and greet my friends. They surrounded me, shouting ‘Surprise! Congratulations! Victory!’, singing and chanting slogans, drunk with euphoria and excitement. No one seemed to notice my tongue‐tied silence. I shifted my eyes away from meeting anyone else’s, afraid that my secret home‐life was about to be exposed. Inside, I was quaking with terror, hoping against hope that Niang would leave us alone until I could politely ask my friends to leave.
Ah Sun reappeared and touched me on the arm. ‘Your mother wishes to see you now!’
I fought against the panic surging within and forced a stiff smile onto my face. ‘I wonder what she wants!’ I said with a shrug, hating myself for the pretence. ‘Excuse me for a moment.’
My mind was blank when I knocked on the door of the Holy of Holies. My parents sat side by side, in a little alcove overlooking the garden. I tried to close the door after me but Niang told me to leave it open. I stood in front of them with my head hanging and my eyes fixed on Niang’s red silk slippers. I could hear, indeed we could all hear, the gleeful squeals of a dozen merry ten‐year‐old girls echoing through the entire house.
‘Who are these little hooligans,’ Niang began, her voice seething with anger, ‘making such a racket in the living‐room downstairs?’
‘They’re my friends from school.’
‘Who invited them here?’
‘No one.’
‘What are they doing here?’
‘They came to celebrate my winning the election for class president.’
‘Is this party your idea?’
‘No, Niang.’ I shook my head in denial. ‘They came of their own accord. I didn’t know anything about it
.’
‘Come here!’ she screamed. I approached her gingerly, trembling with terror. She slapped my face so hard I almost fell. ‘Liar! You planned it, didn’t you, to show off our house to your penniless classmates. How dare you!’
‘No, I didn’t.’ Tears streaked down my cheeks and I found it hard to breathe.
‘Your father works so hard to feed and clothe all of you. He comes home for a nap and there’s not a moment of peace. What insolence to invite them into our living‐room and make such a racket!’
‘I never asked them here. They know I’m not allowed to go to their house after school so they decided to visit me instead.’
She slapped me with the back of her hand against my other cheek. ‘Show‐off! I’ll teach you to be so sneaky!’ she screamed loudly. ‘Go downstairs this minute and tell your hooligan friends to get out! They are not welcome!’
As I hesitated and shuffled my feet, she hit my face yet again. ‘Do you hear me?’ she yelled at the top of her voice. ‘I want them out of the house this minute! Are you deaf? Tell them to gun dan (get lost) and never come here again! Never! Never! Never!’
I clenched my fists and made my way slowly down the stairs. An eerie silence now permeated the house. My classmates must have heard Niang’s every word through the open door of the Holy of Holies. My nose and eyes were drenched and I wiped them with the back of my sleeve. To my horror, I saw bright‐red blood staining my hand and dress. Drops of blood trickled freely from my nose onto the floor. I realised Niang’s blows must have caused a nosebleed and that my face was probably smeared with a mixture of blood, mucus and tears.
I re‐entered the living‐room and stood in front of my classmates unable to say a word. I felt naked and ghastly and vulnerable. None of them looked at me and I dared not look at them. At school, I had been so careful to pretend I came from a loving family. Now they knew the pathetic truth! Unwanted and unloved by my own parents! How long did it take for a person to die of shame?
Chinese Cinderella Page 9