by Robert Wang
Su-Mei was the only woman on board the Wellesley, and she had no toilet articles or a change of clothes. The ship’s cook also knew how to mend clothes, and he took a shirt from the smallest sailor on board and turned it into something that looked like a woman’s garment for her. Su-Mei appreciated the gesture but felt very strange wearing something that looked so ridiculous. Everything is ridiculous in my life now, she thought, so this is perfect!
The crew celebrated the newlyweds, and the cook made them a sumptuous wedding feast. When the sun began to sink toward the horizon, Mr. and Mrs. Travers Higgins climbed into a landing boat with a sailor who rowed it toward Fu-Moon Fort, where, only hours ago, death and destruction had dominated the atmosphere. They were met by the landing force at Fu-Moon, who offered to accompany the couple to Su-Mei’s house. Higgins thought it would be more prudent for them to meet with Pai Chu alone, so he declined the offer.
Pai Chu, still in pain from her brutal assault, had lost track of time and reality. She played with the soldier’s rifle, stabbing him a few times with his own bayonet and cursing at him. The Baker rifle, standard issue in the British infantry, used paper cartridges filled with gunpowder and a single .625 caliber carbine bullet. It didn’t take long for Pai Chu to figure out how the rifle worked. She would be ready for the next foreign devil who came along.
The Higginses took the bamboo forest way to avoid being seen. It was dark, but there was a full moon, so they could see where they were going. When they saw the house, they noticed that the lanterns had not been lit and it was dark inside. Higgins and Su-Mei entered the house carefully, wrinkling their noses. They couldn’t see much, but it was obvious that something horrible had happened—the cottage smelled of death.
Higgins spotted something on the floor. He approached it and slipped and fell in a pool of blood. Su-Mei lit a lantern, and when their eyes adjusted to the light, both of them gasped to see a mutilated body on the floor.
“Pai Chu, where are you?” Su-Mei shouted. Before she could finish her words, Pai Chu appeared out of the darkness. She wore nothing but a blanket draped over her shoulder. Blood covered her body. The expression on her face frightened Higgins and Su-Mei far more than the carnage.
“I told you these foreign devils were evil and bad!” she screeched. “Look what they did to me and my mother!”
“Pai Chu, what happened?” Su-Mei’s first instinct was to go to her, but she hesitated when she noticed that Pai Chu clutched a British rifle, aiming it at Higgins.
“He is going to rape you too, like this dog raped me, but I got him!” Her laughter was shrill. “Look at him now!”
“Pai Chu, put that gun down,” said Su-Mei carefully. “You’re safe now—put it down.”
“He is going to rape you—don’t you see, Su-Mei? He doesn’t love you like I love you! All he wants is to hurt you, but I’m going to protect you, my love, so don’t worry!”
Higgins didn’t understand a word Pai Chu said, but he knew something had gone very wrong. He moved in front of Su-Mei to protect her just in case the gun went off.
“Pai Chu, look at me,” said Su-Mei as she stepped to the side to face her. “Look at me! Higgins is a good man, and he is here to help you. We can all go to England together and be happy there. Now put the gun down!”
“You are going to England with this dog?” said Pai Chu incredulously. “But you can’t! He will hurt you and abandon you, just like what happened to my mother. But don’t worry—I will protect you. Now die, you raping dog!” She aimed the rifle at Higgins, finger on the trigger, when the adrenaline set off another bout of projectile vomiting. As she heaved, all the muscles in her upper body flexed, jerking her fingers against the rifle.
The bullet struck the wall behind Higgins. He ran toward Pai Chu to grab the rifle from her, and she shoved the bayonet right through his stomach.
Su-Mei screamed and reached for him. She saw blood spewing out of his wound. “Pai Chu, what have you done? He is my husband, and you just stabbed him! We came here to take you with us! What have you done?”
Pai Chu watched Su-Mei as she tried to tend to Higgins’s wound. He began to cough up blood. Through the fog in her mind, she realized that Su-Mei was lost to her forever.
“What did you just say? You married this English dog? How could you do that? I’m the one who loves you! I’m the one who can protect you!” Her voice was ragged with pain and betrayal.
“Pai Chu, what have you done? What have you done?” Su-Mei kept repeating. “You have gone crazy, crazy! I love him—not you! He is my husband! You are my sister! Don’t you understand that?”
Pai Chu rolled her eyes, feeling a surge of anger. “Well, if I can’t have you in life, then let’s die together, here and now.” She charged with the bayonet just as Su-Mei moved, slicing her arm as she passed.
Su-Mei grabbed Higgins’s knife from his belt, the same one that had stabbed Pai Chu in Macau, and as Pai Chu raised the rifle to strike again, Su-Mei screamed and ran the knife through Pai Chu’s heart, killing her instantly. She dropped the knife, running with blood, and collapsed next to Higgins.
Higgins could feel his lung filling up with fluid instead of air. The pain was excruciating, but he was conscious for all of it.
“Mrs. Travers Higgins,” Higgins could hardly speak as he coughed up more blood, “you are one brave woman!”
“We go back ship, go to Engand, get up, get up!” Su-Mei cried, fear constricting her chest.
Higgins grabbed the rifle on the floor next to Pai Chu’s body and used it to help himself get up, but he was too weak to stand. Su-Mei tried her best to support him, but she wasn’t strong enough, and he collapsed to the floor.
“What is going on here?” Wen Jing stood in the open door, staring incredulously. He had decided to return to the cottage after the British landing force occupied Fu-Moon—after dark to avoid being stopped. He had watched as San San fainted into the foreign devil’s arms and was carried onto a boat, so he’d assumed her cousin would be the only person at the cottage. And yet here were two dead bodies, the injured British sailor, and San San trying to help him.
“Master Wen, please help us! Pai Chu went crazy and stabbed my husband! He is injured and needs to get to his ship!”
“Your what?” Wen Jing stared. “Did you say husband? You married a foreign devil?” He paused. “Who killed your cousin?”
“It’s a long story, Master Wen, and I’ll explain later,” said Su-Mei, “but my husband needs help now. Can you help us get him back to his ship? Please!”
Wen Jing could see the situation was a desperate one, but he’d just witnessed the bloody aftermath of the battle in which so many of his countrymen had been killed trying to defend their homeland. He was fond of San San, but he felt conflicted about helping the enemy.
He heard himself say, “Your husband’s people just killed so many of our people—aren’t you ashamed of being married to one of them?”
Su-Mei shook her head. “Master Wen, I assure you that my husband did not kill anyone. He only joined the navy so he could come back to China and find me. Please help us!” An idea came to her. “Master Wen, I have over three hundred taels of silver here. You can have all of it if you help me bring my husband back to Fu-Moon right now.”
“What? Three hundred taels? Where did you get it?”
“It doesn’t matter—you can have it all!” Su-Mei ran to the bed and reached behind it, pulling out three heavy bags. “Please, take all of it, but help me get my husband back to his ship!”
Wen Jing had never seen so much silver. Such a fortune could change his life forever. “San San, or whatever your real name is, I don’t know what’s going on here! You come from a wealthy family, just as I suspected.”
“Yes, yes,” said Su-Mei impatiently. “I am guilty of lying to you, but for good reasons that I will explain. But I need your help now to bring my husband to his ship. Won’t you help us?”
“For three hundred taels of silver, I will help you, but I don�
��t want to be seen by anyone, or they’ll think I’m a traitor like you,” Wen Jing said. “We’ll go through the bamboo forest instead of the main road.”
“But it will take longer, Master Wen, and I fear my husband is seriously injured. He needs help right away.”
“We either go through the bamboo forest or I leave you here,” said Wen Jing.
Su-Mei disappeared around the back of the house and came back with the wheelbarrow. Higgins had lost a lot of blood and was feeling very weak, but he managed to stand and hang on to Su-Mei and Wen Jing until they deposited him in it. He cried out in pain, but then clamped his jaws together.
“You push, Master Wen,” said Su-Mei. She handed Higgins a pile of clean rags to press against his wound. She covered him with a blanket and her coat. “Let’s go.”
It took about an hour to reach the demolished fort through the bamboo forest by the light of the full moon; the journey would have taken much longer in darkness. Su-Mei cried out loud for help as soon as she saw British soldiers standing guard. Higgins, disoriented from blood loss, confirmed whatever story Su-Mei told the soldiers. They helped him and Su-Mei into a boat, and two soldiers rowed with all possible haste to the Wellesley.
When he regained consciousness, Higgins was in the infirmary, looking into the genial face of Medical Officer Davies, the Wellesley’s surgeon, who only a few hours ago had celebrated his wedding. Beyond him Higgins could see Su-Mei sitting very upright in a chair, her hands clasped in her lap. Her long hair, always so neatly combed and pinned up to cascade down her back, hung disheveled and in tangles. Her face was smudged with blood and tears, and the rims of her eyes were red. Higgins was fading in and out of consciousness as he felt the energy draining out of his body.
“Well?” rasped Higgins. “How bad is it, sir?” He attempted a grin.
Davies grinned back, but his eyes betrayed his concern. “You’ve sustained severe blood loss, Lieutenant, and your kidney is damaged. The bayonet didn’t sever any arteries, and that is the only reason you’re still with us. Be brave now, lad.” He glanced briefly at Su-Mei and then back to Higgins. “Would you like to speak to the chaplain?”
Higgins shook his head and asked for Su-Mei instead.
“My dearest,” he could hardly whisper when she crouched at his side, “I die a happy man, my love, because of you.”
“No! No—you no die!” she interrupted. “You live, take me Engand. We live Engand happy. You my hesbun, you my life, you my Travers Higgins!”
“My darling, you finally pronounced my name!” Higgins smiled weakly as he spoke his last words.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Su-Mei stared out toward the wreckage of Fu-Moon as her husband was buried at sea. Captain Bremer conducted the service with the crew in attendance, caps in their hands and eyes cast down to the deck. Her face showed no emotion. She was exhausted from weeping and trying to block out the images of Higgins dying and the expression on Pai Chu’s face when she had run Higgins’s knife through her heart. Her world was in ashes. She looked up to the heavens and wanted to curse God, but she couldn’t muster the energy to speak the words.
Higgins’s death was a blow to the entire crew—he had been a well-liked officer, always good to his men, and an excellent navigator, steering his ship away from harm and staying calm through dangerous maneuvers. A cloud of sadness overshadowed the Wellesley, and not just for Higgins—many of the crew had witnessed the destruction and carnage they’d caused at Fu-Moon close up, and they felt remorse, knowing in their hearts that the entire war had been waged to protect Englishmen’s profits.
Both Elliot and Bremer fell ill soon after, and they retreated to Macau on the Nemesis, leaving strict orders not to attack Canton until further notice. Su-Mei traveled with them. Captain Hall, who had executed his orders dutifully, repressing his personal feelings of shame and remorse, insisted that Higgins’s widow take his cabin. She didn’t speak or eat, lying sleepless on the captain’s bunk, staring at the crucifix mounted above her head.
As the Nemesis approached Macau, Su-Mei watched the large cross on the steeple of Sao Lourenco growing nearer. The memory of her first Mass assaulted her senses. Bright sparks flickered before her eyes, and she felt dizzy and warm. She felt the touch of the Holy Spirit in her heart for the first time since she’d left the convent. Her pulse racing and her mind suddenly clear, she dropped to her knees and made the sign of the cross. Yes, Mother Amanda, she thought, as the words of the Lord’s Prayer rose to her lips in English, God does work in mysterious ways, and everything must happen according to his plan.
Mother Amanda was waiting at the docks. She had received the news of Mr. Higgins’s death, but she was still shocked to see this shadow of the vibrant girl who had left the convent a year earlier. Su-Mei didn’t say a word, just held on to Mother Amanda, too exhausted to even cry.
Su-Mei moved into her former room at the convent and tried to pick up her life where it had left off. She attended Mass, helped the novices in the orphanage, and she and Mother Amanda prayed together often, sometimes for hours. It was almost a week before she could talk about what happened.
“I understand and accept that God works in mysterious ways and all things are meant to be,” she said, “but I still feel so guilty! I could have convinced my brother to leave if I’d only tried harder, or offered him money, or stopped giving him money. And I could have left Fu-Moon with Travers and sailed for England, and he and Pai Chu would both be alive now.”
“Sister Su-Mei,” Mother Amanda said, “you have been sorely tested. Sister Pai Chu was a troubled soul. She needed direction and nurturing, and I sent her away from the only home she’d ever known. If there is to be blame for her death, let it be on my shoulders, not yours.” She was silent for a few moments, clasping the wooden cross she wore at her belt. “I hope you will stay with us while you mourn and recover from your losses and let our Lord heal you with his grace and love.”
Su-Mei brushed away her tears. “I want to devote the rest of my life to God in reparation for my sins and those of my father. I want to join the order as a novice.”
Mother Amanda enveloped Su-Mei in her arms. “My child, you are already God’s beloved servant, whatever your path should be. But this is a big decision, and I know that you have been,” she paused delicately, “impulsive in the past, and you have just suffered a great shock. You must take some time to consider before making even this first step.”
“But, Mother Amanda—”
“No, my child. You will continue your studies with me, and in time you will take the Holy Sacraments of baptism and communion. When you are more firmly grounded in our faith, you will be able to make a mature decision, and I will pray nightly that the Lord will guide you onto the best path to perform his works in this world.”
Su-Mei opened her mouth to object—she had spent so many years resisting the laws of her father’s household and traditional Chinese culture that arguing and demanding her way had become second nature. But Mother Amanda was right and so much wiser than she could ever hope to be.
“You have seen many terrible things, Sister Su-Mei, and also experienced the great love between a husband and a wife. Let our humble convent restore you for a time.”
Su-Mei spent her days in study and prayer and found the simple rules of the religious life comforting. She rose early every day, worked hard, and surrounded herself with plain clothing, furnishings, and food. Some of the peace she’d experienced in her little cottage outside Fu-Moon began to return. The nuns and novices and the priest who became her confessor all treated her gently, but as an equal and not as a noble lady or a tragic victim.
After several weeks at the convent, she began to have difficulty concentrating on her studies and meditations. Her mind was fuzzy, and she was often nauseated or tired. Mother Amanda suspected the source of her symptoms long before she did.
“My dear Sister Su-Mei, you are with child.”
Su-Mei, despite her sheltered upbringing, knew how babies came
into the world, and she had worried about becoming pregnant after her beloved Travers left for England. When her monthly courses continued, she suspected that she was simply not fertile, and it never occurred to her that their last night together on board the Wellesley would result in a new life.
She could hardly think with the shock of the announcement and the fog that the pregnancy was creating in her brain. “What—what must I do, Mother Amanda?”
“You have a difficult choice. You are a respectable widow—at least here in Macau—so you may raise the child on your own and perhaps, in time, marry again. I will do my best to find some kind of employment for you so that you can support yourself and your child. You are bright and you speak English, so you may be able to find work translating or tutoring.” Mother Amanda’s words were hopeful, but her eyes were filled with concern.
“But I cannot stay here?”
“Not with a child. God has placed you at a crossroads, and you must choose between motherhood and the religious life. Both are vocations of great devotion and value to the world, but they are not mutually compatible.”
“How long do I have to decide?”
Mother Amanda thought carefully before choosing her next words. “You will deliver your child in early Advent, I believe. The convent has been known to shelter unwed girls in the family way. You, of course, are not one of those, but there would be nothing inappropriate in your staying here until your child is born. After that, if it is your sincere desire to take holy orders, you know what you must do.”
“I have to choose between serving God and raising Travers’s child.”
Mother Amanda smiled sadly and nodded. “I have faith that you will serve God in whichever path you take, and I pray that he will help you with this difficult decision.”
Su-Mei wept in her room, in the gardens, in the convent kitchen, in the chapel. She lit candles and prayed to the Virgin, who had also been a mother. It’s not fair! she railed to herself. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved, and now I must give up my own child? Why, Lord? she wanted to shout. Why must the cost of serving you be so high?