Will of a Tiger

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Will of a Tiger Page 22

by Iris Yang


  Birch nodded, tears glinting in his eyes. Then his breath stopped, trapped between his lungs and his throat. “Did he know?” he asked with an unnatural tremor in his voice. “Dad was worried about me, wasn’t he? Oh shit, I was the reason—”

  “No!” Xiao Mei cut him off. “He didn’t know. I didn’t—”

  “That’s right. Xiao Mei never told him. He was unconscious most of the time. And when he was awake, she made up an excuse for you.”

  “It’s not your fault!” Xiao Mei emphasized.

  Birch took a shaky breath. His expression turned contrite. “Dad wanted us to get married. I was such a fool. He’d be so happy.” He brushed a strand of unruly hair from her face as he murmured apologetically, “Sorry, Xiao Mei. We’ll have to postpone. I can’t—”

  She put a finger to his chapped lips.

  Chapter 51

  Three months later, a simple ceremony took place at the marriage registration office. Chen Bin and Du Ting were the only guests. It was very different from a traditional wedding, which was elaborate and loud. Birch was still in mourning, and Xiao Mei didn’t care about formality.

  She was ecstatic. Her eyes glowed with childish excitement. The muscles of her face ached from smiling. Marrying Birch, a decorated hero and the only man she’d ever loved, had been an impossible dream.

  She’d wished and dreamed but never seriously thought it would come true. Marriage between a maid and a master was unheard of, unless she was the second, the third, or the fourth wife. Staying in the household as a servant had been her realistic goal.

  Xiao Mei loved their marriage vow. She’d never heard the pledge before. Birch said it was the western way. Danny had told him about it, and he loved it. She agreed with him. It was better than the traditional bows to Heaven and Earth, to the ancestors, and to each other.

  That night, sitting on the edge of their bed, Xiao Mei kept twisting the ring on her finger. She liked the feel of it. It symbolized her union with Birch. Now she was part of the family, part of him. I’m no longer an outsider.

  She blushed, her face the color of the red cheongsam encasing her petite body. She closed her eyes and inhaled the intoxicating smell of the jasmine flowers pinned to her chest.

  Although Xiao Mei was excited and couldn’t wait to be intimate with the man she had loved nearly all her adult life, she was shy. Women were taught to be submissive and obedient. Biting her lip, lowering her head, she waited patiently for her newlywed husband to initiate the next move.

  There was a long awkward silence.

  Xiao Mei peeked over at Birch and saw his hesitation. She let out a soundless sigh. Within seconds, she righted her mood. I love him more than he loves me. So I have to do more, to try harder.

  Despite her determination, she didn’t know what to do. Sex had been a taboo for thousands of years in China. No sex education. No talking about it. Not even a whisper. All she knew was that when a man and a woman got married, they slept in the same bed and made babies. How? The closest descriptions in literature were like “they had a blissful night” or “they turned the clouds into rains.” What did that mean?

  Fortunately, her biological instinct kicked in, and her unsuppressed love guided her. She turned to face him.

  The room was bathed in the golden glow of candlelight. Soft shadows crossed Birch’s face. He was still as handsome as when she’d first met him. Only time took away his youthfulness, and life had added hardness to his facial appearance, attested to by a jagged scar at the bottom of his chin and another faint one under his left eye.

  Behind his rugged good looks, Xiao Mei often discerned unimaginable suffering, as well as steadfast strength. Every time she watched him struggle, it pulled on her heartstrings. It’s my fault. If she hadn’t selfishly awakened him, if he’d never come out of the coma, he wouldn’t have had to suffer. Her guilt was as strong as her love.

  She lifted her arms and placed her palms upon his face. The tips of her fingers grazed his cheeks and chin. Then her cheek touched his. Rubbing against his skin, she savored every second, treasuring every inch against his flesh. Joy filled her. She’d dreamed about this moment for so long.

  She reached out to unbutton his shirt. Another rush of heat flushed her face, and her heart raced frantically.

  Birch leaned over the nightstand and blew out the candles. “Let’s—” He motioned to the ones closer to Xiao Mei.

  By the dancing candlelight, she could see the skin grow taunt across his cheekbones and a hint of sadness appear at the corners of his mouth. She understood his hesitation. Birch was conscious of his appearance and embarrassed about his physical imperfection. He’d been a picture-perfect man before the war.

  Xiao Mei felt a tug of sympathy. After all, his battered body was the reason that Mary had left him.

  She didn’t blow out the candle. Instead, she brushed open his shirt. When she saw the first scar below his right collarbone, she lifted her hand to it. Her fingers skimmed the rough skin. With tenderness she placed her mouth on the scar. She heard his sharp intake of breath and sensed his quiver. Immediately, her head shot up, her startled gaze flying to his face. “Are you still in pain?”

  His jaw shifted.

  “Then—”

  He didn’t answer. But his eyes revealed discomfort. His shoulders sagged.

  Xiao Mei felt the sting of tears. She placed her lips on the scar again. Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him all over his chest and felt his tremors. When she finally lifted her head, tears filled her eyes. “Birch, your scars are badges of courage and bravery. I love you, everything about you. I wish you’d never been injured. I wish you’d never gone through the hell you’ve been through.” She seized his large hands, wrapping them tightly in her small ones, pressing them onto her lips. “But your scars are part of you and the kind of man you are. You’re a tough man. A real Tiger!”

  Birch’s eyes flew open.

  “No need to hide the scars from me,” she continued. “Especially now that I’m yours. We’re one and all. ‘For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish.’ Remember?”

  Xiao Mei poured her heart out. She’d had no right to speak to him in this way when she was his servant. Now that she was his wife, she could say what she’d yearned to tell him for years—“Your wounds are my wounds.” In a soul-filled voice, she added, “From now on, let me share your pain.”

  Birch knew Xiao Mei had been infatuated with him for years, yet her strong emotions shocked him. He was even more taken aback by her boldness. Her willingness to love and her eagerness to comfort touched him deeply. For the first time in ages, he felt a heart-to-heart connection with another human being.

  Xiao Mei, this seemingly shy and obedient girl, moved him to the core. For years Birch had refused to let anyone reach him. He was afraid of being rejected and hurt again. He was petrified to find out whether he was impotent as a man, as the doctors had predicted.

  An unexpected warmth welled inside him. Although he didn’t feel sexual desire, as a decent person, he had a sense of duty and responsibility to be a good husband. He decided to take charge. Be a man, he urged himself. You took her as your wife. Promised to make her happy. So keep your word. You’ve got to try.

  While he wasn’t skilled, he knew there was more than one way to satisfy a woman. He was determined to try his best to repay the kindness to his wife.

  So he cupped her chin in both his hands. His eyes traveled over her face. Xiao Mei was pretty in an unassuming way. Her almond-shaped eyes were always pure and kind, and they glowed whenever she looked at him. She had a soft smile. What she lacked in extraordinary beauty was made up for in her sweetness and sincerity. With two waist-length braids, she appeared much younger than her thirty years.

  Birch fused his mouth with hers. This time he felt her tremble. He pulled away and watched hope leap to life in her eyes. Traces of tears still remained on her face. Nevertheless, she was lit up from the inside. The redness on her cheeks deepened under hi
s intense stare. In an instant, she was transformed into a blushing teenager. He’d never seen such unfettered joy or passion.

  Her bliss became his incentive and motivation. He eased her onto the bed and stared down at her. In the soft candlelight, her eyes were clear, brimming with emotions—tenderness, yearning, love. Her penetrating gaze reached out and touched his soul. Even in silence, her words echoed loudly in his mind—We’re one and all.

  Birch couldn’t wait any longer. Bending down, he kissed the salty tears off her cheeks. In a little while, he unbuttoned her cheongsam. His lips grazed her neck, trailing down her shoulders and exploring the shape of her body. He was surprised that, unlike her work-roughened fingers, her skin was smooth. She tasted like the jasmine flower she wore.

  He touched her breast and felt the muscles spring to life under his fingers. A jolt of desire shot through his veins when she moaned. His heart slammed against his chest as her upper body arched and her fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer to her.

  Nothing turned a man on more than a woman’s desire. A tingling sensation, foreign yet primal, coursed through his body. His blood seemed to burn as arousal hardened his muscles. The erogenous parts of him that had lain dormant for years now came to life.

  When he entered her warm body, he emitted a low growl. His eyes lit up, and a look of pure ecstasy passed over his face. To his astonishment, he tasted the pleasure he’d thought he could never experience.

  With each smooth thrust deep inside her, he was carried to new heights of sensation. His breath became faster and harsher as their moans grew louder. When the final moment came, he buried his face in the hollow of her neck to stifle a loud cry of release that ripped through him.

  At thirty-eight, for the first time in his life, Birch tasted the intense sexual pleasure of being a man.

  Chapter 52

  The next two months passed in rare contentment.

  On this August morning, a ringing telephone dragged Birch out of a deep sleep. Lying in a tangle of sheets, he let out a low, satisfied sound. Hand stretched, he tried to wrap Xiao Mei back into his arms and found her side of the bed empty. He opened his eyes to see her talking on the phone in the faint light.

  “Slow down. What? I can’t understand you. Wait, please don’t hang up.” Covering the mouthpiece, she turned to him with a look of disbelief and fear. “It’s Chen Bin. He’s talking nonsense. I think…I think he’s drunk. You’d better—”

  Birch bolted upright and snatched the receiver. He listened intently for a moment. Then his jaw dropped. “Where are you? Tell me. Let’s talk,” he pleaded. His hand tightened around the receiver. “Chen Bin, don’t hang up. Dammit. Let me help you!”

  The line went dead.

  Birch looked up. His face crumbled with helplessness.

  “What happened? Did you understand him?”

  He nodded. His eyes were now wide open, but they’d lost their luster.

  “Is he drunk?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the problem. Du Ting…” Birch’s Adam’s apple bounced a few times before continuing, “Du Ting is dead. He—”

  “What happened?”

  “His wife—”

  “I know she was left on the Mainland.”

  “Chen Bin said something I didn’t quite catch. If I understood correctly, she was forced to remarry, so she jumped into a river.”

  “Oh, no!” Xiao Mei covered her mouth with her hand. “And Du Ting?”

  “He jumped…from a tall building, I think.” In a tormented voice, he cried, “God, how many of us have to die? Danny is gone. Meng Hu was beaten to death. Du Ting killed himself. Chen Bin might be next—”

  “Where is he?” Xiao Mei interrupted.

  “I don’t know. He’s drunk; kept saying that Du Ting had jumped. And that he should have followed him. They’ve been best friends for years.” Birch looked dazed, his face white. But his uncertainty lasted only seconds. Flinging back the sheets, he fumbled for his clothes with his shaky hands. “I have to find him. I won’t let him—”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  It was drizzling as they drove toward Taipei. Dawn had turned the sky gray, and a thin scrim of mist covered the land.

  When they arrived, Chen Bin’s apartment was dark and locked. Birch knocked on the door, softly at first and then harder. No one answered, even after they pounded for several minutes.

  “What can we do?” asked Xiao Mei.

  “I know several bars where he likes to go.”

  The usually busy city seemed deserted as the rain had driven people off the street. At each bar there was no sign of the engineer. By mid-morning, Birch was in pain and limping badly. Rainy days were always hard on his injuries, and his recent imprisonment and water torture had made it even worse.

  “Stay in the car, Birch,” begged Xiao Mei. The drizzle had become a downpour. Streaks of water hammered the car’s roof and windshield. “Let me get out and check. Don’t step in the rain. Please!”

  Birch shook his head. He squeezed her hand before opening the car door. Xiao Mei hurried to his side and grabbed his arm. The wind-driven rain fell almost horizontally and rendered the umbrella useless. It wasn’t a cold day, but her wet clothing clung to her body, making her shiver. For the next hour they kept looking.

  Around noon they returned to Chen Bin’s apartment. The door was still locked.

  “What now?” Xiao Mei asked, her voice sliding out of control. She was worried about the engineer as well as Birch’s leg. Water dripped from their clothes, forming small puddles around their feet.

  Birch sat down outside the door and closed his eyes. “Let’s think for a moment.” He took some deep breaths and then slowed his breathing. After a couple of minutes, he opened his eyes and said, “Let’s go to the police. Find out where Du Ting jumped. Chen Bin said something about following his best friend. Maybe he’s there. I hope it’s not too late.”

  It was mid-afternoon by the time they found out where Du Ting had committed suicide. The former tail gunner had jumped from his lawyer’s office in the center of the city. Birch and Xiao Mei ran to the building and took the elevator to the sixth floor. The gray-haired lawyer was startled to see the drenched couple.

  “Which window did Du Ting jump from yesterday?” Birch asked. Seeing the lawyer’s stunned expression, he added, “I’m his friend.”

  The man pointed to a corner window behind his desk.

  Birch rushed over and spotted a figure on the ground directly below. Dear God! Is that Chen Bin? He felt an ice-cold spike drive through him. “Did…did anyone else jump?” he asked.

  The lawyer shook his head, still perplexed.

  The couple dashed downstairs. Birch’s teeth chattered, and he knew it wasn’t from the rain.

  Chen Bin lay curled up on the wet sidewalk. His eyes were closed. His face, once chubby and boyish, had an unhealthy, gray pallor. His Nationalist uniform, with a medal pinned to his chest, was soiled and soaked. Two empty liquor bottles lay beside him.

  “Chen Bin?” Birch dropped to his knees, grabbed his friend’s arm, and shook him a few times.

  A faint groan escaped from the engineer as he rolled over on his side and smacked his lips. Birch almost choked with relief. His friend was still alive. He leaned over and picked up the motionless figure.

  “No!” cried Xiao Mei, worried about her husband’s leg.

  “Open the door,” Birch ordered. The stench of vomit on Chen Bin’s clothing rose to his nostrils, but he kept a tight hold. Tears mixed with raindrops dripped down his cheeks. Xiao Mei jumped to her feet to help Birch carry the unconscious man into the car.

  They raced to the hospital. Later, a doctor told them that Chen Bin’s blood alcohol content was dangerously high and that he had to remain in the hospital. Knowing Chen Bin was in good hands, they returned home. The clouds parted and a portion of a full moon lit up the sky. Xiao Mei warmed some leftovers, and they ate in silence. Exhausted from the day’s events, they took a hot bath and went to s
leep.

  Chapter 53

  The next morning Birch woke up screaming Danny’s name.

  August was always hard for him. Danny’s birthday was the thirteenth of the month; he’d been killed two days before he would have turned thirty-one. Both Daisy and Jasmine had died several days after his birthday. Birch himself had been shot and left to die on August thirteenth.

  He’d hoped this year would be different, now that Xiao Mei was by his side. But Du Ting’s death brought back the nightmares.

  “Shhh… It’s okay,” Xiao Mei said in her soothing voice. “It’s just a dream.” Her petite body pressed tightly against his back, her arms wrapping around him. Softly she stroked his chest, his arm, his face.

  Little by little, the trembling that held Birch captive subsided as her lips grazed his back and neck. He watched early morning sunlight dance around the edges of the window where the thick velvet drapes were drawn, and he began to relax.

  As soon as he was fully awake, he called the hospital and was told that Chen Bin was out of danger, but still in a deep sleep. At breakfast Birch gave Xiao Mei a quick rehash of the conversation. Afterward he walked outside and sat on the back porch for a long time.

  It was a sunny day. The sky was a vivid blue with scattered clouds left in the wake of the swift-moving storm from the day before. The torrential rain had cleansed everything. A crystal vase full of forget-me-nots stood on the patio table. The air smelled of wildflowers, delicate and subtle.

  Xiao Mei left him alone, but she kept bringing fresh coffee. On his fourth refill, he started to talk.

  For the first time, Birch voiced his reservations about the war. He didn’t expect Xiao Mei to comment, but he had to let off steam.

  “Was it really worthwhile?” he asked. “Was the sacrifice justified, especially for Danny and Jack? They could have spent their lives in the mountains of California, hiking and rock climbing. Instead, they came to China and died in a foreign land.”

 

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