Will of a Tiger

by Iris Yang

  “Look at me, Dad. How can I think about marriage? I can’t marry anyone.”

  “Not just anyone. I’m talking about Xiao Mei.”

  “I have nothing to offer her.” Birch looked bitter and crestfallen.

  “That’s up to her to decide. She’s in love with you. She’s never said it out loud, but it’s obvious. You’ve known each other for seventeen years. It’s not easy for her to keep caring for you without asking anything in return, without a single complaint. Your beautiful girlfriend left you as soon as you were seriously injured.”

  “Don’t mention her.” Birch’s voice betrayed his annoyance.

  “Xiao Mei took care of you when you were in the coma. I never told you all the details, as I should have. It was hard. Even when I gave up hope, she’d never given up. If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “She deserves to find someone better than me.”

  “You know she doesn’t want anyone but you. We tried to let her go. What did she do? She insisted on staying.” General Bai coughed. “The title of wife is important to a woman. You may not know… There are those who gossip—”

  “About her?”

  “And about you! Why you’re not married. Rumors about you keeping a servant girl as a mistress without giving her a proper title…”

  “Bastards!” Birch fumed. He wouldn’t feel outraged if it were just his reputation. But a woman’s purity was unrivaled in Chinese society.

  “People talk,” continued the general. “You can’t stop them. It’s human nature. And we’ve given them reason to be nosy. How many families have brought a servant girl from the Mainland?”

  Birch shook his head, looking miserable.

  “And there will be even more talk now that I’m going to...” The general looked worried. Once he was dead, what kind of gossip would there be about a single man and a single woman living in the same household? “Let her in, Son? Give her a chance, and give her the title she deserves. You may not love her, but at least you care about her.”

  Birch nodded. He’d met Xiao Mei when she was a maid in his uncle’s household. She was only fourteen. That image of the frightened teenager had never left his mind. His feelings for her were nothing more than a kind young man’s sympathy for an unfortunate little girl.

  “Life is a strange thing,” General Bai continued. “Your mother and I had met only once before we were married. And look at us! We grew to love each other.” He paused again, apparently thinking of his late wife. “Xiao Mei is a lovely woman. You shouldn’t be alone after I’m gone. I’m worried—”

  “Dad!”

  General Bai lifted his hand. “Life has limited time. Don’t waste it, Son.” He stretched out his hand, the veins blue and thick beneath pale skin, and clasped Birch’s arm. “I know Xiao Mei isn’t the prettiest girl in the world. I know she’s never had a formal education. And she’s in a different class. In an ideal situation—”

  “Those are not problems to me,” replied Birch.

  “Marriage between families of equal rank is fundamental in our society.” The father squeezed the young man’s hand. “But her devotion to you is unending.”

  “But—”

  “Just think about it. Okay?”

  Birch stared at his father. His forehead was etched with deep lines, and puffy bags of flesh formed beneath his tired-looking eyes. His sagging cheeks were dotted with age spots, and under the fluorescent lights, he seemed worn-out from worry.

  Birch was filled with conflicting emotions. Although he had no romantic feelings for Xiao Mei, he cared deeply about her. She was family, and just like her name, she was Xiao Mei—Little Sister.

  The room was quiet except for the electronic blips and bleeps.

  “Okay, I’ll think about it,” agreed Birch at long last.

  General Bai nodded and closed his eyes.

  Chapter 47

  General Bai’s condition deteriorated quickly. He slept most of the time. Even when he was awake, he seemed dazed and worn out. Day and night, Birch remained at his bedside. Xiao Mei offered to help, but Birch declined. Although there was little communication between father and son, being together—a hand squeeze, a soft smile, a few words—gave them comfort.

  No one had influenced Birch more than his father. His decision to become a fighter pilot had surprised everyone. Although he’d always been athletic, his mild demeanor was more like his uncle’s, a scholar. It was his admiration for his father that had drawn him down the military path.

  “Go home, Birch,” said the head nurse on the fourth evening. “Get some sleep. We’ll take good care of General Bai. Trust us.”

  Reluctantly Birch got to his feet. He tightened the blanket around his father and stared down at him for a full minute before leaving. He was drained and half-starved. He’d taken only short naps for several days. Xiao Mei prepared plenty of food, but he’d been too preoccupied to eat.

  Daylight drew its last breath when Birch stepped out of the hospital. He drove with a somber expression as he watched the sky glow with dying embers of sunlight. Soon darkness would swallow any light of the day, just as it would swallow his father’s life.

  Their stone house was well-lit at twilight. The smell of delicious food hung in the air when he stepped out of the car. Dad will never taste Xiao Mei’s cooking again. Leaning against the car, he pulled a pack of Luck Strikes from his pocket.

  The early March evening was damp and chilly. He wore a short sleeve shirt and a pair of slacks. Goosebumps erupted on his arms. Yet he stood there and sucked in the smoke, trying to collect himself.

  Birch was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn’t pay any attention until it was too late. Several hands grabbed him from behind. He jerked and wrenched his left arm free. His elbow jabbed backward, and he heard a crunching sound. An agonizing scream followed.

  More hands grabbed his arms. One attacker bear-hugged his waist, pinning him against the car. Birch squirmed, yanked, and kicked. A blunt object smashed the back of his head. Pain rocketed through his skull. He sagged, gasping. Within seconds, a handcuff slid around his wrists, a hood was slipped over his head.

  They dragged and shoved him inside his car. He roared. His left leg snapped out in an upward strike. “Fuck!” someone shrieked and uttered a furious round of curse words. Birch struck again. Unable to see, he didn’t find a target this time.

  Before he could throw another kick, one attacker slammed his boot hard into his right knee. Pain shot up his amputated stump and knifed through him, stealing his breath. For one excruciating moment, Birch slumped as darkness whirled at the edge of his vision. They threw him into the backseat. The movement caused another burst of pain. Sparks exploded against a field of black. Before they shut the door, he heard a high-pitched cry of “Shao Ye!” and he felt a pang of sympathy for Xiao Mei.

  Xiao Mei was in the kitchen when she heard the car coming. She wiped her hands, put on a soft smile, and opened the front door. There in the driveway, Birch leaned against the car. His cigarette glowed in the semidarkness. Xiao Mei withdrew quietly, not wanting to disturb the Young Master.

  A few minutes later she heard a long, horrible cry and a string of swear words. The noise stunned her so much that it took her a few seconds before she raced outside.

  Four men were wrestling with Birch, trying to shove him into the backseat of his car. She watched Birch kick a heavyset man in the face. Before she could blink, the man slammed his boot onto Birch’s right knee. Her heart sank. A scream lay trapped inside her throat. Only when they slammed the door shut did she find her voice and shrieked at the top of her lungs while running toward the car.

  The heavyset man with a bloody nose attacked her. He slapped her across the face so hard she stumbled sideways, lost her footing, and fell. Her vision blurred and her ears rang. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth.

  Xiao Mei gave an anguished cry of pain and watched helplessly as the car sped away. She slumped on the cold ground. Events were moving so fast they d
idn’t seem real. Who are they? Why did they kidnap the Young Master? What do they want from him? What will they do to him?

  A million questions rushed into her mind. Street gangs abduct wealthy people for ransom money. A wave of dizziness hit her. Get help. Quickly! She dashed inside and barely took a breath between sentences when she called the local police. But the man wasn’t in a hurry to do anything even after she repeatedly urged him.

  “Nothing I can do right now,” he said. “It’s late. Everyone is off work. As soon as someone shows up…”

  Xiao Mei’s emotions swung back and forth between anger and disbelief. Taking a lungful of air, she forced herself to calm down. Who else can I ask for help? If General Bai weren’t sick, he would know whom to call. She didn’t have the heart to trouble him, though. The father would be worried. And it would likely be detrimental to his already fragile health. She shuffled through the address book and dialed Chen Bin’s number.

  The engineer fumed over the phone. “What do they want? Did they say anything?”

  “No.”

  “Four men, you say? What did they wear? Uniforms? Plain clothes?”

  “It was dark. And it happened so quickly. I think they were in black suits.”

  “Black suits?” Chen Bin muttered a curse. “Let me make a few calls. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  Chapter 48

  Birch didn’t know who had kidnapped him until the hood was yanked off his head. He was suspended by the wrists; his feet barely touched the ground. He blinked a few times to bring the world back into focus.

  The windowless room was brightly lit with fluorescent lights. Odors of blood, vomit, and urine pervaded the air, even though the floor seemed to be recently washed. A hose of some kind coiled like a snake in the corner of the room. The only furniture was a metal desk; on top lay a notebook, handcuffs, whips, pliers, scalpels, and a couple of electronic devices.

  Two men sat at the desk. One was in his forties. A pair of wire-rim glasses accented his scholarly demeanor. His hand held a pen over a notepad. The other man was fit and much younger. He had sharp features with a rattlesnake’s eyes. Both wore black suits. Behind them, a slogan hung on the wall: “Patriotism requires anti-Communism. No compromise in the anti-communist stance; No mercy to Communists or their followers or sympathizers.”

  Birch knew then that he was in the hands of Jun-Tong, the secret military police. Although he was still puzzled and irritated, he felt somewhat relieved. He was worried that he’d been kidnapped by a street gang. “What is wrong with you people? Whoever you want, it isn’t me. I’m—”

  “We know who you are,” said the scholarly-looking man. He put down the pen, drew a pack of cigarettes from his top pocket, and stuck one between his thin lips. Flicking a lighter, he let the flame burn briefly before lighting the cigarette. “Major Bai Hua. Former fighter pilot in the Air Force.”

  “Then you know you’ve made a mistake.”

  “We never make mistakes,” growled the snake-eyed man. “You’re a traitor.”

  “Hell! What did I do?”

  “We know what you’ve said and done.”

  “Like what?”

  “You want to hear the evidence? Well, let me tell you.” With one hand holding the cigarette, the “scholar” tapped the notebook with the other. “You helped a communist in Yunnan. You visited his family several times. They moved to a nice apartment because of you. We know everything about everyone.”

  “Then you know Ding Fang was killed by the Japs. He and his wife died for the country. His family deserves to be treated with dignity. If you—”

  “You denounced the party and the government.” Snake thrust an index finger and yelled, “Didn’t you call the Army and Jun-Tong asshole—?”

  “You are an asshole!”

  Snake slammed his fist on the desk, making the scalpels jump and clink. “We can kill you, and killing you is as easy as crushing an ant.”

  “How dare you? I worked for the Nationalist government and fought the Japs for eight years. I was a decorated officer. My father is a member of the party. He—”

  “Don’t count on your old man to save you,” interrupted Snake. “He’s going to kick the bucket anytime—”

  Birch strained against the bonds, making the chains rattle. Anger infused his face with color.

  Snake shot to his feet. “Before we kill you”—he glared at Birch with his cobra-like eyes—“we’ll peel a layer of skin from you first.”

  “Rot in hell!” Birch glared back at his interrogators.

  A fierce exchange between them lasted almost an hour. At length, Snake lost his patience. He shed his suit and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. “Let me take care of him.” He picked up a whip and snapped it a few times. He added with vehemence, “He kicked the shit out of—”

  The “scholar” raised his palm. A new cigarette dangled from his lips. His dark eyes were trained on Birch. “I don’t want to do this. You were a great pilot. I’ve read all the reports. But I’m under orders. Help me here, Birch. May I call you Birch? Let’s do this the easy way—for both of us. What do you say?”

  “I have nothing to say. I’ve already told you, I didn’t do anything.”

  The man scrutinized him. “Your timing couldn’t be worse. Li Wei defected to the Mainland with his P-47 two months ago. He was in your squadron.”

  “He joined the squadron after my plane went down,” said Birch. An acne-ridden face appeared in his mind. He’d met Li Wei a couple of times and heard the rumors about the escape. No one knew for sure why the young pilot took off. One thought was he’d been treated poorly here. But others guessed that by being a traitor to the Nationalists, he was trying to save his family that he’d left in the Communist-controlled Mainland. “How the hell—”

  “You know the rule,” the “scholar” said. “We won’t let a single guilty individual walk free, even if we have to kill one hundred along the way.”

  “Screw your cold-blooded rules!”

  Snake snapped the whip again. “I’ll break him. It won’t take long.”

  The man in charge blew out a cloud of smoke. “I can’t help you if you don’t help me.” He tapped the ash off his cigarette. “You’d better come clean before I throw you to the lions.” His brow furrowed as he waited. Without hearing an answer, he closed his eyes briefly before nodding his approval.

  Snake walked with measured steps and stood before Birch with feet planted slightly apart, hands on his hips. “He’ll crack before we use the fancy devices,” he assured his superior over his shoulder. “No need to waste electricity.”

  Birch’s instinct was to kick the son of a bitch. He was stretched to stand on tiptoes. His right knee was swelling and throbbing. But with the help of his strong arms, he could still deliver one powerful blow with his left foot.

  But then what?

  As the Communists on the Mainland eradicated the Nationalists, the government in Taiwan was just as worried about a Communist invasion. Martial law had been declared in May 1949. The rule was clear: It was better to capture one hundred innocent people than to let one guilty person go free. This attitude, along with a ridiculous incentive system that entitled the arresting officer to a significant portion of the prisoner’s wealth, had led to imprisonment and executions of many innocent people. “White Terror” spread across the island.

  Now, Birch’s life was in their hands.

  Years ago, Captain Zhang had said in the Japanese prison that there were no heroes, only survivors. Birch could not believe that his warning still held true. With enormous self-control, he fought the impulse to fight. If he wanted to survive, it was best not to provoke them. He balled his fists, counting to ten, and decided to keep calm and silent.

  He wasn’t afraid of death, but to die like this was meaningless. And if he did die, what would happen to his father? He would be heartbroken. What would Xiao Mei do? She would be homeless and all alone. Birch found himself caring about Xiao Mei’s life more than his own
. He had to do everything in his power to survive.

  Unhurried, Snake unbuttoned Birch’s shirt, revealing a white tank top. “One last time: who else is in your group?” he asked, sending a wad of saliva arching through the air. Without hearing an answer, he grabbed the neck of the undershirt, and with one fluid motion, ripped it apart. Drawing back a step, he lifted the whip.

  Birch’s lips pressed white.

  “Wait!” the man in charge called out and jumped to his feet. The expression on his face changed discernibly as he stared at Birch’s chest full of whip marks and old gunshot wounds. He shook his head, disbelief mixed with shock and awe. After a noticeable hesitation, he said, “The Japs did this?” It was half question, half statement. Then he mumbled to his associate, “Cut him some slack.”

  Snake was obviously disappointed.

  Ignoring his subordinate, the “scholar” turned back to Birch. “Don’t be stubborn, Birch. If you don’t think of yourself, then think of your father. Is this what you want him to see at the end of his life? This is no joke. Don’t be a hero. Tell us what we need to know so you can go home.”

  With that, he left the room, leaving Birch surprised and Snake dismayed.

  Birch had been disappointed with the Nationalist party and disagreed with some of its policies, but he’d never done anything to undermine the government.

  Who had tipped off Jun-Tong? They knew what he’d said. He’d complained only in front of his family and friends. But how did the secret police find out?

  Birch couldn’t believe any of his friends would give him up. They’d known each other for years, some through life-and-death situations. Did someone tell others unintentionally? A handful of them loved to drink. Who knew what they would say when intoxicated?