Will of a Tiger

by Iris Yang

  Another time the road was blocked, and the rickshaw in which she rode had had to take a detour. She’d learned from the puller that a public execution was taking place near the city center. “They’re labeled as terrorists,” said the coolie in a conspiratorial tone. “Rumor has it they’re communists or communist followers.” Xiao Mei had heard the gunshots.

  “So, Auntie Liu will cook today?” Captain Wu’s voice interrupted her thoughts. The young man was walking backward toward the gate, his dark eyes still trained on her.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know how anyone can put up with her cooking.” He placed his hand over his throat and made a face as if throwing up. “Will you come back to cook dinner?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Great.” A big smile spread across his face. “I’ll wait for you.”

  Xiao Mei leaned back in her seat, breathed a soundless sigh, and waved goodbye.

  Clattering over the cobbled streets, the rickshaw took her over the hills of Chungking toward the city center. The day was balmy with sunshine and a light breeze. The young coolie wore nothing but cotton trousers and a conical straw hat. A toffee-brown rag was draped on his bronzed chest and bounced as he ran.

  The squeal of the wheels took Xiao Mei back to her past. There had been more people at the Bai residence when she first arrived. Mrs. Bai was alive. Jasmine and Daisy were there. They had two live-in maids and guards. Mrs. Bai used to take the girls to the city center. Even though they had a car, she hired rickshaws. Daisy had loved the smell of gasoline, but Mrs. Bai couldn’t stand it.

  Then everything changed. June 5, 1941, Japanese airplanes rained incendiary bombs on the city. Mrs. Bai was headmaster of a kindergarten. All the children and teachers in her preschool managed to find protection. The shelters in Chungking were deep caves dug into mountainsides. They were supposed to be safe, but the bombing destroyed their entrances. Along with several thousand residents, Mrs. Bai was buried alive, and suffocated to death.

  Soon after the tragedy, General Bai sent Daisy and Jasmine to a small village in Yunnan. The area was too remote to be touched by war. Or so he thought. He hadn’t minded sending Birch to the front, but he wouldn’t permit the ugly conflict to reach his daughter and niece. Delicate young ladies had nothing to do with horrifying warfare. How could he ever imagine that the violence would find them? How could he know that an American pilot would bail out near the village and that both girls would sacrifice their lives for him?

  From then on, the Bai residence became very different. Even though the rooms remained unchanged, there was no laughter now. No music. No liveliness. When the live-in maids left to take care of their families, the general didn’t bother to replace them. There wasn’t much to do, and Xiao Mei was more than capable of handling everything.

  The home had become even quieter after General Bai retired. Xiao Mei was glad when Captain Wu paid a visit. What she didn’t like was his hidden agenda. She was afraid her cooking wasn’t his only interest. She sighed as she recalled the past. Life is so unpredictable. Within just a few years, almost everyone in her life had gone. Birch and General Bai were the only ones left.

  Half an hour later, she leaned forward and called out, “Stop here, please.”

  “Not there yet.” The puller straightened his back. He mopped his face with the rag around his neck and pointed ahead. “See, it’s there.” The Buddhist temple was sitting high on Lionhead Hill a few blocks away.

  “It’s okay,” said Xiao Mei. “I’d rather walk.”

  “But the officer said—”

  “Don’t worry about him.” She paid the fare and stepped down.

  The city center was filled with block after block of shops. Even on the brink of civil war, the streets were teeming with shoppers and sellers. In high-pitched cries, sidewalk vendors offered everything from cheap household items to expensive jade jewelry. Nearby one man was baking sweet yams on a clay stove. Another man was dry-frying chestnuts with hot pebbles in a large wok. His rhythmic stirring joined forces with the heartbeat of the city. Several kids stood around a Tanghulu stand. Their eyes were glued to the cinnabar hawthorns skewered onto bamboo sticks. The mouth-watering aroma of food permeated the air.

  But Xiao Mei paid no attention to any of these sights, sounds or smells. As soon as the rickshaw turned the corner, she crossed the busy street and made a beeline for a large store. Above the door, a few golden characters on a red wooden banner announced the name: Chungking Herbal Dispensary. The distinctive scent of herbs greeted her even before she entered the shop.

  Chapter 27

  Twenty minutes later, a little bell jingled overhead as Xiao Mei exited the drugstore. With one hand protecting her bag, she waved down a rickshaw. “General Bai’s residence.” She gave the coolie the address.

  A block later, two black cars and several military vehicles rolled into view. Small flags on the front bumpers had the Nationalist’s Blue Sky, White Sun, and a Wholly Red Earth. The puller towed the rickshaw close to the curb, squeezing past the oncoming convoy on the narrow street.

  Xiao Mei crinkled her nose at the fuel exhaust that spewed out of the vehicles. She placed a hand over her face. But a tender smile broke through when she spotted several kids running alongside the cars. They laughed, jumping up and down. The youngster’s gap-toothed grins reminded her of Daisy, who’d liked the smell of gasoline.

  But her smile was short-lived. Along with Daisy’s beaming face, Birch’s pained eyes floated into her mind. Her mouth curved into a frown. She felt a tug of sympathy for the girl who would never grow old, and for her war-torn brother. Xiao Mei’s hand tightened over the patchwork bag.

  Suddenly, an explosion roared like thunder. Shards of metals flew in all directions from a detonated car. Broken glass shot up to the sky and then rained down everywhere. In a matter of seconds, revolting odors of burned flesh filled the air. Screams and cries of injured people rose above the chaos in the crowded street.

  A razor-sharp shard caught the coolie. It slammed into his head, turning his skull into a mass of blood and brain. He collapsed, fell face down, twitched once, and then lay still.

  The rickshaw lurched to a stop and threw Xiao Mei off balance. She pitched forward, tumbled out of the seat, and fell on top of the young man. Her hands touched the bloody mass oozing from his wounds. She shrieked, reeling from the shock. But she couldn’t hear her own voice.

  Xiao Mei scrambled off the body and squirmed away. Her own forehead now showed a purple bruise. Blood seeped through her green cotton blouse and gray slacks where her left knee and elbow were scraped. She tried to stand up, but her legs buckled. She crumpled back to the ground, her teeth chattering with fright. As she struggled, a strong hand grabbed her forearm. Whipping her head around, she saw Captain Wu looming over her. In the thick smoke, his face was smudged. A trickle of blood dripped from his right temple.

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. She opened her mouth, but Wu Pan lifted his hand to forestall her, and said something she couldn’t hear. Without delay, he flung her arm around his shoulders and hauled her to a standing position.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a boy’s lifeless form. His face was a bloody pulp. His small frame was sprawled on the cobbled ground a few steps away from a burning car. A piece of wreckage covered his lower body.

  Xiao Mei cried out, aghast at the sight. Jerking herself free, she stumbled toward the youngster. But two steps later, Captain Wu recaptured her arm. “Too late,” he yelled. “We have to leave!” He yanked her away from the body. She fought to free herself, but he held on with a tenacious grip.

  As he dragged her along, gunshots erupted around them. Wu Pan wrapped his arm around her head, using his body to protect hers. Ducking low, he ran quickly down the side of the street. Seconds later, high-pitched whistles blew and loud voices yelled, “Stop!” Nationalist military personnel had arrived to detain everyone. With rifle butts they beat anyone who resisted arrest. Rude shouts mingled with painful
cries.

  “Stop!” A harsh voice barked behind Xiao Mei and Wu Pan. “Move one more step and I’ll shoot.”

  Xiao Mei flinched while Captain Wu knotted his soldier’s fists at his sides. They had no choice but to comply.

  “Raise your hands. Turn around slowly.”

  They did as they were told. In front of them was a sharp-faced young man pointing a rifle at them. He was dressed in the Nationalist Army uniform and stood with his feet slightly apart and shoulders braced. His watchful eyes widened as he stared at the captain. “Wu Pan?” He switched his aim to Xiao Mei, but his stern face softened.

  With an exclamation of surprise, Wu Pan lowered his arms. “Put the gun down, Tan Ying. What are you doing here?”

  “We were ordered to escort the general and a foreign military adviser,” said Tan Ying in a rush of words. “They were in the car that blew up.” He took a breath. “We got orders to arrest everyone here. The terrorists can’t be far away. The communists, I mean.” Tan Ying shifted his gaze to Xiao Mei, who looked dumbfounded.

  “Let her go.” Wu Pan said in a commanding voice. “She has nothing to do with the communists. She works for General Bai.”

  Tan Ying searched the captain’s dark eyes before he glanced over his shoulder. Chaos surrounded them. Fifteen yards away, two soldiers in Nationalist uniforms wrestled a young man to the ground and pinned him by the wrists. One of them rammed his boot at the poor fellow’s jaw. A few steps away, another soldier held a young woman at gunpoint. He shoved her so hard that she lurched forward and fell to her knees.

  Tan Ying’s gaze trained on Wu Pan, then sliced over to Xiao Mei, and finally swung back to his friend. A muscle flickered at his jaw. After a strained silence, he snatched Xiao Mei by her arm. “What are you waiting for?” he shouted at Captain Wu, who immediately took her other arm. Before she understood, the two men carried her away from the bloody scene.

  At the next intersection, Tan Ying guided them into a narrow alley. They ran for three blocks. Then he let go of her sleeve and abruptly left them.

  “I owe you,” Wu Pan called out without stopping.

  Up and down the steep hills, through a maze of alleyways, they ran. Fifteen minutes later they reached a deserted street. No more noise or stench. Only their footsteps clattered on the cobble stones.

  “Slow down, please.” Xiao Mei waved her hand, panting. Her chest rose and fell with labored breathing. Her legs and lungs were burning.

  Wu Pan trimmed his gait to a walk. His hand still clasped her right sleeve.

  “Those poor kids…” She managed to push the words past the lump in her throat. Her eyes were bright with tears. “The bomb…” Sadness and anger ripped through her. Drawing several ragged breaths, she asked, “Did the communists do it?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Why? Isn’t there enough death after eight years of war?”

  The young captain had no answer.

  Xiao Mei shook her head, disbelief mixed with contempt and horror. She brushed aside loose strands of hair that had fallen from her pigtails. “I’m glad you were there, Captain Wu. Thank you.” Her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement. “But how did you happen to be there?”

  Wu Pan shrugged, and then asked, “Did you have a chance to go to the temple?” With head cocked, he watched her, his eyes traveling from her face to the bulging bag in front of her chest.

  Finding his gaze a shade too inquisitive and skeptical, she dropped her chin to her chest. The trickle of blood down his temple made her feel guilty.

  “Xiao Mei,” Captain Wu stuttered, “don’t go to the city center alone. It’s too dangerous. You could have been killed today. Or arrested as a communist… God knows what they would do to you if—”

  He stopped mid-sentence and heaved a deep sigh. With a free hand, he brushed off the debris tangled in her hair. His palm lingered over her head a moment longer than necessary. “Next time, wait for me.” His voice was low and rough. “I’ll go with you.”

  Her gaze rose to collide with his, but she couldn’t possibly let anyone know what she needed to buy.

  Chapter 28

  As General Bai had said, physical rehabilitation was a grueling process. But he’d also pointed out that Birch was a tough man. Once the ex-fighter pilot set his mind to it, as a typical Tiger, he exerted all his effort, struggling without complaint.

  Before a prosthetic leg was fitted, he had to exercise and build his overall health and muscle strength. At first, he could exercise only while lying in bed, but soon he was hopping around the house on crutches, his right pant leg empty.

  The doctors were amazed at the speed of his recovery. Less than three months after he woke from the coma, he was well enough for an artificial limb.

  As all amputees, Birch experienced a host of painful sensations. The soreness was worse when he first used the artificial leg. Adjusting to a prosthesis wasn’t easy. It took perseverance. He had to relearn basic things such as balance and coordination.

  The area where the skin met the socket caused pressure and stabbing pains. The doctors prescribed painkillers, but no matter how bad he felt, Birch refused to take the pills. He clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt. The veins on the back of his hands bulged and his knuckles turned white when he gripped the crutches. Sometimes every muscle in his body screamed at him to stop. Each pain-filled step was a hurdle to overcome.

  “Please take the pill!” the nurses at the rehab center begged him. More than a few had tears in their eyes when they witnessed his suffering.

  But Birch refused.

  Wang Hong, the nurse who had trained Xiao Mei, was so frustrated that she yelled at him, “You just want to show off.” She sounded angry, but tears trickled down her cheeks. “Show off that you’re a hero. Brag about being a brave man with no fear of pain. We already know you’re a hero.” Her husband, Meng Hu, was also a fighter pilot. He’d shared the dorm room with Birch and Danny.

  The next day Wang Hong handed Birch a carton of Lucky Strikes. “I shouldn’t give this to you. It’s not healthy. But Meng Hu convinced me. He said smoking might offer you some relief. Why are you so stubborn? Why can’t you just take the pills?”

  With unwavering determination and the great strength of a warrior, Birch struggled and endured as the days passed. In six months he made more progress than any doctors had expected. Everyone in the hospital was impressed with this ex-fighter pilot. Soon he was nicknamed ‘Tough Tiger.’

  No one, except his family, knew the other side of this incredible hero. Hidden underneath layers of calm fortitude, painful memories lay buried, often terrorizing him.

  On the night of August 11, 1946, a year after Danny was killed, sleep eluded Birch. The horrible events a year earlier played over and over in his mind. He remembered everything as if it had happened only the day before—the torture, the plan to escape, the decapitation of the teenager, the life-and-death choices they’d made, the miserable and forlorn days that had followed, the shooting and the mass grave…

  Oddly, out of so many memories, Danny’s joke disturbed him the most. Danny’s impish smile and wriggling fingers always made Birch teary. Danny’s words, “I’ll haunt you in your dreams,” sadly became true. Rolling the small medicine bottle left by Danny in his hand, Birch tossed and turned. The images of his friend wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard he tried to block them.

  The night was hot and sticky. Along with Nanking and Wuhan, Chungking was known as one of the Three Furnaces in China. The window was wide open, but it offered no relief. The leaden heat and the humidity hurt the wounds on his body. Outside two cicadas shrilled somewhere in the reeds.

  Lying naked to the waist, Birch stared at the ceiling. Moonlight shone through the window. It illuminated the room with a silvery hue and cast ever-changing shadows. On the second night he was in prison he’d watched similar shadows. Aches and pains from various wounds had kept him from sleeping. Earlier that night Danny had offered him the pain reliever given to him by Scho
ol Boy, a sympathetic guard. But Birch had declined his offer. There weren’t many pills in the bottle, and he’d hoped to save them for Danny.

  What if I took the pills? Then Danny wouldn’t have had them to drug me. He might still be alive! Had his well-intended act cost his brother’s life?

  Exhausted, he dozed off before dawn. Soon he began to dream. Danny and Mary were on a stage. The American was playing a guitar. There was a white scarf around his neck. Mary stood beside him, singing. She wore a silky pink dress and lily-white gloves. Their youthful faces were lit up under the warm stage lights.

  In the front row sat Daisy and Jasmine, each with a halo above her head. They waved to Birch with huge smiles upon their faces. He waved back and grinned from ear to ear, realizing with relief that his sisters had become angels.

  Just then a group of Japanese soldiers emerged from the darkness. They opened fire. Danny was shot and fell backward. His head hit the floor as if he had been beheaded, just like the teenage prisoner. His white scarf turned red in a pool of blood.

  Birch was flabbergasted, but he had no time to analyze. He had to save Mary. He kicked and thrashed, yet he went nowhere. His legs were like concrete; they weighed him down. Only his outstretched arm could move.

  Meanwhile, Mary spun, running and screeching. Her hands fluttered in the air as if she were trying to fly away. One of her white gloves dropped off before she flung herself at him.

  “Mary!” Birch cried as he drew her into his embrace. She didn’t answer. He looked down and saw blood oozing from her chest, blooming on the silky pink dress like a peony. A pall of black flies hovered over her wound, making a repulsive buzzing sound.

  The horrific scene jerked Birch upright with a scream. Fear and sorrow glazed his eyes. A sheen of perspiration clung to his face, neck, and upper body.