by Anchee Min
Early in 1920, the light began to go out of Carie’s eyes. She was in and out of consciousness. Pearl rushed back from Nanhsuchou. She sensed that her mother might not live to see her grandchild.
CHAPTER 12
The Chin-kiang Independent would have to close after a year. No matter how hard I pushed, the newspaper was not selling enough copies to make ends meet.
Papa offered to be the sponsor under two conditions. The name must be changed to the Christian Chin-kiang, and the contents would need to promote Christianity.
“If I spend Absalom’s money, I must sing God’s songs,” Papa insisted. “No reporting that would make Jesus lose face.”
I told Papa that I couldn’t accept his offer. In fact, my newspaper was in the middle of investigating a scandal regarding Chinese converts who continued to practice the worst of traditional Chinese customs. I had been interviewing wives whose Christian husbands kept purchasing new concubines.
Papa was upset because he, too, was having affairs with different local ladies, which he kept a secret from Absalom. Papa asked, “Why do you have to pick the teapot that isn’t boiling?”
“My readers are entitled to the truth,” I replied.
“No money from the church then.”
“So be it.”
I took the matter to Pearl, whose care of her mother was doing wonders. She was confident that the newspaper could survive. We discussed strategy and made adjustments to target the young intellectuals.
Pearl took another male-sounding pen name, Er-ping, meaning “An Alternative View.” She began to write about China’s place in the world. She introduced Western history, the industrial revolution, different models of government, the concept of political democracy, and the world’s important schools of philosophy and art.
Pearl’s analysis and essays generated great interest. Her eloquent Chinese impressed the readers so much that no one suspected that Er-ping was a Caucasian and a woman. The number of subscribers increased. My advertising space was sold without a struggle.
My own writings improved because Pearl edited my drafts. I practically lived in the printing factory, which was located near the town’s border. From my window, I watched the construction of the future Chin-kiang Christian Hospital, a two-story brick building funded by Absalom’s church.
Although Pearl was eight months pregnant, she didn’t get much rest. Besides helping me with the newspaper, she had to play the role of a peacemaker between her parents. The conflict between Carie and Absalom intensified. Carie could no longer stand Absalom. She forbade Absalom from ever visiting her.
“You go and save your heathens” were her last words to him.
Pearl spent nights at her mother’s bedside, sitting in a rattan chair. I would come and relieve her at dawn for a few hours. On some nights, after the day’s newspaper was out, Pearl and I would take walks, as we had when we were younger. Carie would be sound asleep as we ventured into the moonlight.
We discussed everything from China to America, from my former husband and mother-in-law to her troubled marriage.
“How is your agriculturalist?” I asked.
“Well, he is turning into a disillusionist,” Pearl replied. “Lossing resents the attitudes of Chinese farmers. He feels less sympathy toward their misery because they are closed to his ideas. His efforts didn’t succeed and the farmers quit his experiments.”
“Were you surprised?” I asked.
“No, and I don’t blame the peasants,” she replied frankly. “They have good reason to see Lossing as a foolish man. Chinese peasants know what their land is capable of producing and how to do it. Lossing believes that if his method works in Iowa, it must work in Anhui.”
“What about the government’s offer of compensation?” I asked.
“The peasants no longer want to practice Lossing’s methods even with compensation.”
“So what is Lossing going to do?”
“He has been looking for a way out. Two weeks ago he received an invitation from his former professor, who is now the dean at the College of Agriculture and Forestry at Nanking University. The dean offered a teaching position and Lossing accepted it. To hell with the farmers in Nanhsuchou.”
“So you are moving to Nanking?”
“What choice do I have?”
“What about your mother?” I asked.
“I’ll see her,” she replied. “Thank God for the railway.”
One day I ventured to ask Pearl if she and Lossing still loved each other.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, I am carrying his child. Even if I don’t need him, the child does.”
Carol Buck was born on March 4, 1920. Although it was a smooth birth, a tumor was discovered in Pearl’s uterus. The doctor insisted that Pearl go to America to have the tumor removed, which she did. It was a long journey that took four months. As a result of the surgery, Pearl could no longer have children. The news crushed her. She wrote, “I am grateful to have the opportunity to lavish my affection abundantly on Carol.”
Pearl and Carol followed Lossing to Nanking. “We simply abandoned Nanhsuchou,” Pearl reported.
To Pearl’s dismay, Nanking was in the middle of a war. Different Chinese warlords and political factions were fighting for dominance of the city and outlying regions.
“I was shaken when bullets whistled across my garden,” she wrote. “I tried to help the civilian casualties. One woman was shot in the stomach and died in my arms. I felt powerless.”
Carie longed to spend time with her granddaughter. Painstakingly, Pearl made arrangements. She took the train and visited as much as possible. To hold the baby in her arms, Carie struggled to push herself out of the bed. Carol was a milk-skinned, chubby, and beautiful child.
Motherhood brought Pearl profound happiness. The birth of Carol also saved her marriage. She no longer complained about Lossing. Instead she talked about her handsome new home in Nanking with all its lovely trees and a bamboo grove at the far end of the garden.
Pearl applied for a part-time job teaching English at the university’s night school. She was pleased that with only their two small salaries she and Lossing were able to afford servants. “Believe it or not, we have three,” she said. “One takes care of the laundry and the garden, one does the cooking, and one helps me with Carol. It’s hard to believe that I now have extra time on my hands. I have been writing every chance I get and I have just completed a new novel!”
None of us had any sense of the tragedy that was looming. Carol showed no sign that she was a victim of phenylketonuria, but Pearl would soon find out. It was an inherited metabolic disease that would lead Carol to suffer severe mental retardation.
Pearl started to come to Chin-kiang less frequently. By this time, Carol had had her first birthday. When Pearl did come, she didn’t stay long. She had to leave before Carie had had enough time with Carol. Pearl grew tense when watching Carol play. I noticed that although baby Carol looked healthy and was sweet, she didn’t talk when she was supposed to.
Without any warning or word, Pearl stopped coming. After a two-month silence, she came without Carol. She made excuses when her mother questioned. She sat with Carie and tried to look cheerful, but I could tell it was an act.
Carie had her bed moved next to the window, where she could better see the trees and mountains. She was silent most of the time while Pearl held her hand. She said nothing when it was time for Pearl to leave.
Carie stared out into the darkness after Pearl was gone. To cheer her up, I told her about the Chin-kiang Christian Girls’ Choir. “I have been teaching the girls all the songs you taught me,” I reported, “and we have been rehearsing for the Christmas Eve performance.”
Carie enjoyed my news, but deep down she missed her daughter and granddaughter.
Months went by and Pearl didn’t visit. Then I received a letter from her. It broke my heart. Doctors had confirmed her worst nightmare—Carol would never grow up mentally. In her letter, Pearl begged me
to keep the news from Carie. “Tell Mother that I will come as soon as I get a chance and I promise that I will stay longer next time.”
Carie sensed that her end was approaching. She called me to her bed. She wanted to visit Kuilin in Guangxi province before she died. “Would you accompany me, Willow?” she asked.
I made arrangements immediately. I wrote to Pearl, who was in America with Lossing getting treatment for Carol, that her mother was determined to make the trip. We arrived in Kuilin by train after five days. Sitting on a chair on a bamboo raft, Carie floated down the Li-jiang River. With tears in her eyes, she gazed over the ink-painting-like landscape. The clear, smooth water mirrored the green mountains against a cloudless sky.
“I am ready to die now,” Carie said quietly.
“No, you cannot,” I responded. “You haven’t heard Carol call you Grandma yet.”
She shook her head slightly. “Carol might never be able to.”
That was when I realized that Carie had known all along what was happening. She had tried to take away Pearl’s burden by pretending to know nothing. She had seen too much death and illness over the years to be fooled.
“But why aren’t you fighting?” I wept with my cheek against the back of her hand. “You have always been a fighter. You fought for your children, your own fate, and everybody else’s. I remember the way you scrubbed my hair with soap trying to get rid of the lice.”
Carie gave a weak smile. “I am too tired.”
I understood the reason Carie had come to Kuilin. It was her way to help Pearl. If she wasn’t home, Pearl wouldn’t have to rush back to Chin-kiang.
“You have been hard on yourself, Carie,” I said.
“Nothing is hard when I have you by my side.” She smiled.
I asked if there was anything else that I could do for her.
She was silent for a while and then uttered, “Be there for Pearl after I’m gone.”
CHAPTER 13
Carie died the day before Christmas. Pearl and I were with her till the end. Carie’s last wish touched me deeply. All her belongings were to be sold and the funds given to her lifelong maid and friend Wang Ah-ma, so that she could retire and return to her provincial town. The funeral was held on Christmas Day. Absalom performed a simple ceremony, the same ceremony he offered the locals. We were stunned that Absalom didn’t do more for his wife.
The casket was lowered slowly into the ground. Behind Pearl and Absalom, the entire town of Chin-kiang stood. Grief-stricken, Wang Ah-ma fainted. The Chin-kiang Christian Girls’ Choir sang “Amazing Grace.” Playing Carie’s piano, I made a promise to myself to maintain Carie’s grave like a Chinese daughter would.
Hundreds of candles were placed in cut-off gourds filled with sand. Members of the girls’ choir lit the candles and prayed for Carie’s spirit. The candles were then placed on lotus pads and set free to drift with the current. Slowly the candles floated into the canal and then the Yangtze River. We prayed that Carie’s spirit would travel across the Pacific Ocean and reach her birthplace in America.
Absalom was upset when Lilac proposed hosting a “tofu banquet” to honor Carie. It was the Chinese Buddhist tradition. The wish came from people who felt deeply indebted to Carie. Papa reminded Absalom that the majority of the provincial people, whose lives Carie had touched and helped, were not Christians.
Lilac told Absalom, “We would like to send off old spirits and greet new ones so Carie may gain favors in her next life, not only with the Christian God but also the Chinese gods.”
Papa explained to Absalom, “It is an honor only people of high standing and wealth can afford.”
“No!” Absalom frowned with his eyebrows and said firmly. “That is against the Christian principle. An elaborate funeral is wasteful. Carie did nothing more than her Christian duty.”
Pearl tried to convince her father that by honoring Carie, the people were honoring the Christian God. But it was no use.
An idea proposed by Carpenter Chan and his friends to build a memorial gate for Carie was also dropped. In order to allow the tofu banquet to take place, Papa fabricated an emergency in a neighboring village church. It sent Absalom on his way out of Chin-kiang.
The tofu banquet lasted a week. It was held in Carie’s name. It symbolized her thanks to all who came to help her complete the transition from one life to another.
People traveled long distances to attend the ceremony. Staying up all night, I helped Lilac soak and cook the soybeans. We ground the beans and made a variety of tofu dishes, including tofu chicken, tofu duck, tofu fish, tofu ham, tofu bread, and a big tofu cake.
Pearl received families dressed in traditional mourning costume, white from head to toe. The white cotton robes were matched with white hats pinned with white flowers and white shoe covers. Pearl had no idea that her mother had so many friends.
I was called the Other Pearl because Carie, in many ways, had adopted me. I sang the crying tune with the crowd. It was Chin-kiang’s tradition to mourn this way. The tune asked the gods to hear our complaints for taking Carie away too soon.
Carpenter Chan and his crew built makeshift gates that guided the crowd to Carie’s grave. Wood carvings of protective gods stood on top of each gate. Every gate had its own title, which stood as a symbol of blessing for Carie’s next life.
The first gate was titled Sleeping Seeds, which stood for winter; the second was Flower Buds, which meant spring; the third was In Full Blossom, representing summer; and the last gate, Harvest and Fruits, was for the fall. Carie was assured all four seasons in her next life.
As people passed through the gates they kowtowed. Children were told to beg the gods to guard Carie’s spirit. The Wan-Wan Tunes troupe played The Celebration and the mourners entertained gods of the universe. First was the god of death, who was believed to have ordered Carie’s departure from earth. He was entertained to make sure no mistakes had been made. Next were the demons that were believed to have escorted Carie. They were asked to “be gentle with the sorrowful spirit.” Third was the Heavenly Judge, who was in charge of counting Carie’s virtues and deciding her future. The message from the mourners to him was “Please be fair and kind.” Food and wine were offered to this god to assure a receptive mood.
Pearl was grateful that the local people thought to honor her mother with their ancient traditions. She participated in the piety ceremony, where she lit incense at Carie’s altar and prayed for the comfort of her mother’s spirit.
I asked Pearl where her husband was.
“Lossing is an American . . .” Pearl said. “And he has been very busy.”
I sensed she was upset.
“Lossing should have been here for you, if for no other reason.”
Pearl appeared hurt, although she explained, “I told him that he didn’t have to come if he was busy.”
“Pearl.” I made her look at me. “What is going on?”
Reluctantly, she replied, “Lossing complains that I am too demanding. He didn’t even think that I should come. He wanted me to stay in Nanking and take care of Carol.”
I shook my head.
“Carol is not getting better . . .” Pearl broke down. “I don’t want to believe what I see. But I am forced to. My daughter doesn’t talk and doesn’t respond to me. I have tried to teach her, but I am not reaching her . . . Lossing thinks it is my fault. And I think it’s my fault, too . . . I didn’t make Carol right in the first place. I don’t know what happened . . . Lossing is devastated. He can’t believe that she is his child. He left us last week, again, for a field trip in the north. Maybe it’s for the better—we don’t have to fight endlessly . . . Lossing will be gone for three months, maybe longer. I am afraid that he won’t return . . .”
“Lossing will return,” I comforted her. “He is Carol’s father. Give him time.”
“You don’t know the truth of our marriage, Willow. It hasn’t been working. Carol’s trouble is like salt on top of a wound. I thought I could take it. I don’t mind Lossing t
aking his anger out on me. But when he is mean to Carol, I . . .”
I let her sob on my shoulder.
“I can’t see myself living with him anymore,” she continued. “Carol doesn’t know what is wrong. She doesn’t deserve her father’s cruelty.”
“You need Lossing at this moment,” I said.
She agreed. “We need money to pay Carol’s doctors in America.”
Pearl’s searching for Carol’s cure would eventually end. After years of disappointment, she would accept her fate. Pickled in sorrow, she began to imagine her own accidental death and contemplated suicide. I wrote her as much as I could.
Pearl told me that writing had become her salvation. It was the only way that she could take her mind off her daughter. If she couldn’t fix Carol, she could fix the characters in her novels.
After Carie’s death, Absalom traveled deep inland, sometimes a year at a time. As a result, more Christian churches were established. Carpenter Chan followed Absalom. He brought his wife and children with him.
Papa continued to be responsible for the Chin-kiang Christian community. His recent achievements included the conversion of the richest man in Chin-kiang, the head of the famous Chin-kiang Vinegar Company. Receiving handsome contributions, Papa transferred the money to Absalom, who in turn funded Christian schools inland.
Besides being publisher and editor of the newspaper, I was also in charge of the Chin-kiang Christian Girls’ Middle School. I followed Carie’s original curriculum and added Chinese history, science, and mathematics.
I wasn’t aware of the Chin-kiang Independent’s popularity until I received a letter from the Nanking Daily offering me a position as its editor.
I accepted the offer without hesitation because I had always admired the Nanking Daily. The paper was as prestigious as the Shanghai Daily, and its readership reached all of southern China. The offer would expand my horizons and also enable me to reunite with Pearl.