Will of a Tiger

by Iris Yang

  Then in a haze, at the first glint of dawn, he spotted a girl bursting into his room. Mary? Is that you? He sat up straighter in bed and reached out. Wrapping his arms around her, he didn’t let go, even when he felt a little resistance. “No, Mary, don’t go. Don’t leave me. I miss you. Stay here, please!” He hadn’t seen her for fourteen months.

  Although Birch had never talked about it, he missed Mary terribly. Her leaving had torn out a piece of his soul. She was his only love.

  On July 4, 1944, the Air Force hosted a performance to celebrate their American friends’ Independence Day. While Birch waited for his turn, a young woman in a silky, lavender evening gown sang, “Mo Li Hua.” The melody and her soulful voice struck him like a thunderbolt. “Jasmine Flower” was the song that Daisy and Jasmine had sung at Danny’s birthday party two years earlier. Time after time, Danny had praised the beautiful folk song. A dull ache settled in Birch’s chest as his mind fogged over with images of his sister and his cousin.

  Still immersed in thought, he heard the girl start another song. Immediately the lyric of “Danny Boy” penetrated deep into his soul. He imagined that it was Jasmine or Daisy singing the song to Danny.

  The young woman flashed him an infectious smile as she passed. An intoxicating scent of perfume hovered around him.

  And that was it! The brave pilot’s heart was stolen. It was love at first sight. Mary was gorgeous. A lot of young men in the Air Force fell for her. But she chose Birch over other admirers. They were a perfect match; even his rivals admitted it.

  Mary dazzled Birch. Her beauty took his breath away, her sweet voice tugged at his heart, and her mere presence made it beat faster. He longed to be with her. What else could one ask from a relationship?

  “You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Danny laughed at him. Then the Flying Tiger warned him, “Take it slow.”

  Birch couldn’t help it; at age thirty he was head over heels in love for the first time.

  Now, after a year separation, Mary had finally come back. She was sitting next to him on his bed. Still holding her in his embrace, he planted small lingering kisses on her neck, on the tip of her chin, the sweep of her cheekbones, the corners of her eyes. And on her mouth! Reveling in the feel of her silky skin, he was brimming with joy in his delirium. He hadn’t felt this way since he’d awakened from the coma. “Mary! Oh, darling,” he murmured under his breath as he tasted the girl.

  Abruptly he stopped. Something wasn’t right. Mary liked to let her hair fall on her back, not pulled into braided pigtails. And Mary wore an expensive brand of perfume. The lavish scent had become part of her identity. Birch had often smelled it before seeing her. But the woman in his arms wore no perfume. He drew back from her. In the faint light, a look of shock and confusion spread across his face. “I’m so sorry,” he stammered, backing away from the girl.

  It was Xiao Mei.

  His back thudded against the headboard as he snatched the sheet to conceal his bare chest. How could it be? What happened? He tried to unfreeze himself, to find logic.

  He knew, however, he’d done something wrong, even unintentionally. Of course, things like this happened all the time—after all, Ya Tou—servant girls or slave girls—were their masters’ personal property, sold for life. But as a gentleman, Birch would’ve never considered doing anything like this.

  “I’m truly sorry,” he apologized again. That was all he could do.

  Xiao Mei seemed as stunned as he was. His continuous apology made things worse. Seeing his awkwardness, she became uneasy. “I…I…” she mumbled, trying to explain, yet made no sensible sentence.

  Chewing her lip, she stood up in a hurry. Her head hung low, but the redness on her cheeks was evident. Nervously, she wound the hem of her shirt around her finger and then unwound it. “I heard…I heard your screams. I…” she whispered, breathless. Then she stole a glance at the Young Master before fleeing the room.

  Birch remained in bed for a long time. What have I done? He wasn’t an insensitive man. The housemaid’s fondness for him was more than clear. Nevertheless, his heart was already taken. Even a year after Mary had left him, he couldn’t forget her. There was no room in his heart for anyone else.

  Birch sagged against the headboard and dropped the sheet. In the daylight, the jagged scars on his bare chest became more pronounced, reminding him of both visible and invisible wounds. The fact remained that he couldn’t offer much to any woman.

  He scraped a hand over his sweat-soaked hair while trying to organize his thoughts. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. In a tradition that dated back thousands of years, physical contact between males and females was forbidden. A man and a woman couldn’t touch each other unless they were in the same family, even though this was now beginning to be questioned by the younger generation.

  But I didn’t just touch her, I kissed her! His naked body had enfolded her in a tight embrace. He’d kissed Mary only once, on her forehead. Mary had been his girlfriend and he’d had every intention of marrying her, yet it would have been inappropriate to do anything more. What had just happened between him and Xiao Mei was an accident. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. He’d been half-asleep.

  Birch was mortified by the event long after Xiao Mei had left the room. Reluctantly, he got out of bed. He was in deep thought as he secured his artificial leg.

  The first few steps of the day were always very painful. His hands flew to his right thigh. Clutching the muscles around the socket where the limb met the prosthesis, he tried to press out the throbbing pain.

  Drawing a deep breath, he slid the crutches underneath his arms. With a heavy heart, he limped and shuffled toward his father’s study. The thump-thumping noise echoed in the empty hallway with each step.

  Chapter 29

  Xiao Mei waited in the dining room. It was a large area lit by porcelain lamps with white silk lampshades. Scrolls of ink-and-brush paintings of peonies, plum blossoms, and lotus flowers hung on the walls. The table was covered with white embroidered linen and set for three. An enticing aroma permeated the air.

  She didn’t know why it took the two men so long. Her uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away. Did I do something terribly wrong? I shouldn’t go into the Young Master’s room. She’d felt compelled to help when she heard his cry. This wasn’t the first time. She knew his nightmares often terrorized him. Every time she heard the screams, her heart ached for him.

  It had happened early this morning when she passed his room. In the heat of the moment, she hadn’t thought twice before entering. Her eagerness to comfort was instinctive and irrepressible. Now she realized it was wrong to go into his room—she’d embarrassed him. She could still feel the heat of his touch and the burn of his kiss. Chewing her bottom lip, she savored his taste. A giddy mix of joy and anxiety turned her face the color of the peony in the painting. She folded her arms against her body, waiting like a prisoner for her verdict.

  When the two men finally appeared, Xiao Mei brought the dishes she’d kept warm in pots and pans. Quietly, she slid onto a chair at the side of General Bai, and across from Birch. Unlike servants in other families who ate their meals separately, she was asked to sit with the family. Even though everyone was very nice to her, she never felt completely relaxed. Often she found excuses to get up, prepare more dishes, or bring more food. Today was particularly awkward.

  “Xiao Mei, you know the Civil War has started.” General Bai broke the quietness as he picked up the delicate china teacup with a gold rim. “Birch and I have decided to leave Chungking.”

  Less than a year after the war against Japan had ended, the truce had fallen apart, and a full-scale civil war between the Nationalists and the Communists had broken out. Both the general and Birch were against a battle within the country, and they were tired of fighting.

  “We’re planning to go to the Village of Peach Blossoms.” As an afterthought, General Bai added, “As soon as we sell the house here.”

  Not knowing where the conversation was head
ed, Xiao Mei sat erect, placing her hands on her lap underneath the table. Her left thumb rubbed the small scar on the back of her right hand, reminding her to remain calm.

  “Xiao Mei, how long have you worked for us?”

  She moistened her lips before answering. “Eight years.”

  “Eight years? If we count the two years you worked for my brother, you’ve been with us for ten years. That’s a long time.”

  Alarm shone in her eyes. She put more pressure on the scar, trying to calm her nerves.

  General Bai cleared his throat. “You’re twenty-four this year. Most girls your age have already married. Their kids are probably in school by now. You should get married. We hope you’ll be wed before we leave here.”

  Xiao Mei seemed dazed. Get married? To whom? Although she knew the odds, she couldn’t suppress a distant hope. What if? Her nerves tingled with anticipation of his next words.

  “I called a couple of people,” General Bai continued after sipping his tea. “A friend of mine recommended an excellent matchmaker. Madame Tu is very successful—”

  “Please don’t chase me away…” Her tone became apprehensive as she expelled the thread of hope like the air out of a pricked balloon.

  “We’re not driving you away. We’re giving you your freedom. Can’t you see? We just want you to be happy, to live a normal life like other women. You deserve a good man as a husband. You should have lots of children.”

  Xiao Mei closed her eyes and shook her head.

  “How about Wu Pan?” General Bai asked, referring to the former security guard. “He’s a year older than you. A reliable man. He’s never said anything, but I’m sure he has a crush on you. He doesn’t hide it very well.” The general broke into a smile as he remembered the young captain’s sheepish grin. “Even with limited education, he’s bright. Not a bad choice. Didn’t he save you a couple of months ago? Isn’t that something? If you like, I’ll talk—”

  Xiao Mei stood and rushed to the other side of the table between the two men. Without saying a word, she fell to her knees. A look of desperation twisted her features.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, get up.” General Bai reached down, pulling at her arm.

  Birch also stretched out his arm, but stopped and let his hand fall.

  She resisted the pull and remained kneeling. Her lower lip quivered.

  “It doesn’t have to be him. Don’t worry. There are lots of choices in a big city. This matchmaker will find—”

  “Please! You’ll need a servant in Yunnan. As long as I can work, please let me stay. I’m a good housemaid. I know what kind of food you…and Shao Ye prefer. I know how to prepare it the way you like it. Anything…I’ll do anything—”

  “My silly child, you’re an excellent maid. We won’t find anyone better than you. We’ll miss you and the delicious dishes you make.” General Bai swallowed. “But you shouldn’t be a servant for the rest of your life. We just want you to be happy.”

  “I’m happy here. I don’t want to go anywhere.”

  “You can’t remain a servant forever. You should have your own family. I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful wife and mother. You’re such a loving woman. That’s what we hope for you.”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather be a maid…stay in the family. I don’t care about anything else.” The last few words ended on a woeful sob. Tears streamed down her distraught face.

  “Don’t cry.” General Bai sighed. “You’re still young. In the long run, you’ll understand. There are better choices. You can enjoy a normal life. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

  “No, I won’t regret it,” she answered without the slightest hesitation. “You and Shao Ye are the only people I know in this world. Don’t make me leave you!”

  “Listen to me, Xiao Mei. We’ll give you enough Jia Zhuang so that the groom’s family won’t look down upon you. We’ll pay you and your family to visit us in Yunnan every so often.” With excitement growing in his voice, General Bai said, “I’d love to see your children. I can’t wait for them to call me Ye Ye.” Unable to have his own grandchild, his face lit up with the thought of being called Grandpa.

  “I appreciate you and Shao Ye looking after my welfare.” Her voice trembled. A fresh wave of tears stung her eyes. This time, they were not caused by sadness.

  Jia Zhuang, the transfer of parental property to a woman at marriage, was crucial. A woman who brought a large dowry was often considered more virtuous and would be treated accordingly by the groom’s family.

  “I’m deeply touched that you’d give me…Jia Zhuang. I’m flattered. That’s very kind of you. I don’t know what else to say. Thank you very, very much.” Xiao Mei bowed and knocked her forehead on the floor three times, showing her sincerest reverence and gratitude.

  Only a daughter would receive a fund like a dowry. General Bai was treating her as if she were part of the family, as if she were his daughter. His statement of being called Grandpa tugged at her heart.

  Then she straightened her body, her eyes still downcast. “But no, I don’t want it or need it.” Through gritted teeth she appealed, “Please, let me stay with you and…Shao Ye. That’s all I ask. Nothing more. I don’t need anything. I won’t ask for…anything else.”

  The older man shook his head. He didn’t know how else to convince the young woman, but he wasn’t about to change his mind.

  “If you are determined to drive me away,” she croaked with a sense of foreboding, “I’ll…I’ll go to a monastery. I’ll become a Buddhist nun.”

  General Bai’s jaw dropped, and Birch gaped at her in stunned silence.

  Under Buddhist discipline, strict celibacy was a must for an ordained monk or nun. For centuries, short of suicide, becoming a female monk had been the ultimate way for a woman to show her determination to refuse marriage.

  The men had known that it would be hard to convince her, but her strong resistance was more than they’d expected. Most girls were too shy or too submissive to object. They might not like the proposal, but they were trained to obey. Few girls would speak their minds about such a sensitive subject.

  General Bai exchanged a helpless glance with Birch. Her objection had rendered him speechless. After a long silence, he heaved a tired sigh. “Okay, you can stay.” He pulled on her arm again. “But think about it. Consider the alternative, my child. Anytime you’re ready, we’ll be more than happy to help you find the finest match.”

  Hope sprang to life in her tear-flooded eyes.

  Chapter 30

  In the fall of 1946, the family sold the house and was ready to leave for the village in Yunnan. At their farewell party, a few of Birch’s fellow airmen clustered at the end of a table full of treats.

  “I don’t think you will find these up the mountain.” Meng Hu handed Birch two cartons of Lucky Strikes. With an angular face, the fellow fighter pilot oozed confidence. He lived up to his name—Meng Hu, Fierce Tiger.

  “I told him smoking isn’t good for anyone,” complained Wang Hong, the nurse who’d trained Xiao Mei. A mint green floral dress draped over her small frame, which was dwarfed by her brawny husband’s size. She scooped up a mooncake with lotus seed paste. Shaking her head, she added, “But he insists.”

  “Yet, the stingy bastard won’t even give me one pack.” Chen Bin, one of the ground crew, twisted his lips, pretending to be unhappy. He was in his mid-twenties with playful puppy eyes and a boyish face. “Lucky Strikes are hard to come by nowadays.” He helped himself to a cigarette from a box on the nearby table. The smoke from his mouth dissipated instantly in the current produced by whirring ceiling fan.

  “That’s right,” Du Ting, a tail gunner, butted in. His jet-black hair was plastered down with grease. He snatched a pan fried dumpling from a plate. Scrunching up his nose, he wiggled it from side to side before he said, “Not to mention they cost a fortune.” He tilted his head back, dropping the hot dumpling into his mouth. Immediately, he hissed and fanned his open mouth.

  Birch thanke
d the kind couple. Steadying himself with a cane, he picked up a package he’d asked Xiao Mei to prepare earlier. “I didn’t get a chance to give you a gift.” He handed it to Wang Hong. The couple had gotten married when he was in the coma.

  They opened the package, and a bag of dried red dates came to view.

  “Zao sheng gui zi,” Birch offered his good wishes to Wang Hong first and repeated it to Meng Hu. “May you soon have a lovely son.”

  “Boy, oh, boy—” Meng Hu started to joke about the sentimental gift, but abruptly stopped himself.

  The term zao zi, red date, had the same pronunciation as “have a son soon.” It was often given to newlyweds as a propitiatory gesture.

  Meng Hu must have heard about Birch’s condition from his wife. He slapped Birch on the back, and then twirled to face Wang Hong. Rubbing her slightly bulging stomach, he said, eyes blazing, “Hong, why don’t we ask Birch to be our child’s godfather?”

  Wang Hong responded with a head bob. A faint blush stained her cream-colored skin. “It would be an honor.”

  “The honor will be mine.” Birch clapped Meng Hu on the shoulder, nodding in appreciation. His eyes glistened.

  “If it’s a boy, we’ll name him Meng Xiao Hu, just so you know.”

  “That’s a perfect name—Fierce Little Tiger.”

  “This is so unfair,” Chen Bin protested. He took another quick drag off the cigarette. “I want to be a godfather. Why don’t you ask me?”

  With a mouth full of dumpling, Du Ting nodded in agreement. More people surrounded them, intrigued.

  “I’m a hero, too.” Shoulders back, smiling proudly, Chen Bin traced a finger over a medal pinned to his uniform. Then he switched his gaze to the six medals bristling on Birch’s chest. “I guess I need five more.” He ran the palm of his hand over his buzz cut and grimaced. “That’s not fair. It’s easier to get awarded, being a fighter pilot.”