The Gemini Child

by Shea Meadows

  “Wow. Lots of property for one man to keep up,” Ricky commented.

  “He had a cleaning crew when I lived around here. This guy is a hoot. You’ll like him,” Susan said with a smile. “Come on. He won’t care if we’re a couple minutes early. He was excited that I was back in town.”

  They collected everyone’s things, plus a gift they had purchased at the hotel to give to Ho and an old album of pictures from the 1990s that Susan had taken when they were friends.

  The front door had a gong by the right side that Susan gleefully hit several times. “We used to ring this when we’d come back from a night on the town, even though there was no one there. Ho said it was to alert the aunties.”

  Within a minute, two men in their late forties pulled open the large door. One was Asian; the other looked more European/ Asian mixed. He had round eyes, tan skin with brown hair and was wearing a tailored suit. The Asian grinned when he saw Susan. “My little Susan Freedom, you haven’t aged a day. Still the American bohemian; even though you got your doctorate, you are still wild.” He scooped her in his arms, and they snuggled and kissed as if they were the only ones there. After about a minute more than everyone was comfortable with, they pulled apart.

  “Sung Ho, I want to introduce the friends I told you about. These are Ricky and David Clark and their little girl Nory. I met them because I helped when Nory was born. This is Bonta Maybum, who is caring for Nory and is a friend of the family. The fine gentleman next to her is George Banner, Ricky’s father,” Susan said. Sung Ho took each person’s hand as they were named and greeted them with a smile.

  He turned to the man near him. “This is my friend Arden Francis. He is living here now and working with me at the national archives. He is off to work while we visit.” He patted Arden on the back and smiled at him. “Tell them I’ll be in no later than two?”

  Arden squeezed Ho’s arm. “Will do. So nice to meet all of you. I have heard so much about Susan Freedom and the wild days of the early nineties. You are like an old friend.” With that he left, retrieving a small car from the garage next to the house.

  “Well, don’t stand on my doorstep a minute longer. Come and tell me the rest of your story. The little bit I heard was fascinating,” Ho said as they guided them into the large entryway.

  “Not another word about us until you explain to my friends why you call me Susan Freedom. They have to be eaten up with curiosity,” Susan said.

  Ho laughed. “Susan volunteered at the museum. And when my old boss introduced her to me, he got her name wrong. He called her Susan Free, and it sounded like Susan Flee because my boss had never mastered the English ‘r’. After he left, both of us laughed, and she told me her name was Fry. But I told her it was too late. She could be either Susan Flee or Susan Free, so Free became my pet name for her. It changed to Freedom when she decided to leave the country and go to Germany to finish her education, so when we wrote or phoned, I called her that.”

  “We lost touch after I studied in Germany and became a trauma doctor,” Susan amended. She looked at Ho. “You never wrote back when I went to America.”

  Ho took her hands. “Sorry, little sister. It was a tough time for me. It is very difficult to live as a gay man in a communist country. So much secrecy. If I had written I would have been tempted to tell you about Arden and I was afraid of government intrusion. But all that is over. I am careful and so is he and we are able to keep up the front of landlord and tenant.” He turned to the rest of the visitors.

  “Enough going over our sordid past. Susan told me on the phone that you have a problem with which I might be able to assist you. Let’s settle in and you can tell me about it.”

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  A half-hour later, as they sat in the modern-looking living room, Ricky concluded the story of Norton Reston and his project to create a new empire using the Bi Mo Chu. Ho asked a question here and there throughout the telling, but he mostly listened. He looked to Susan as they told about her past life as Lee Gee and her adventures in the Han court. Sung Ho didn’t look surprised at all.

  When Ricky finished, Sung Ho walked into the kitchen and returned in a few minutes with a pot of tea. “I should have offered this when you first came in the door. It is something that etiquette requires when family members drop in for a visit. You all are part of my family, for your lives have been changed forever by the friendship of my honored grandfather, Sung May Su, with Norton Reston.

  “I have heard the story of Norton’s theft of the Bi Mo Chu since childhood. Grandfather used to talk about how the slippery White Emperor tricked him into showing him scrolls that contained the chants needed to use the ghost trap. He talked about the wild days of the ‘30s when he and Reston met at Du Yuesheng’s notorious drug den. My grandfather was brilliant and simple at the same time. He believed Reston when he said his interest in the Bi Mo Chu was purely academic. He often pounded his forehead with his fist, when he told about how naïve he had been. The one thing he did manage was that he only translated the information and did not let Reston walk away with the scrolls.

  “So, you wish to see the scrolls as well so you can have ammunition to stop his plan? You spoke of the tool Susan has, that I gave her. Neither one of us knew what the objects were. Do you have them with you, Freedom?”

  Susan nodded and took the two parts of the Bing Ta Cri out of her purse, the smaller cube and the frame of the mirror with its characters. “From my memories of my life as Lee Gee, I know there are written scrolls that explain their use. We think they are a tool to release ghosts from the Bi Mo Chu and send them to the Celestial Kingdom. We might be able to do the job without them, but with them, it will be considerably easier.”

  Sung Ho looked at the objects. “I remember when we found them. They were jumbled up with bits and pieces that no one had been able to identify. This cube we took for a signature block and the mirror only a tool for feminine beauty. I have never given them a name or connected them to my grandfather’s story about Reston.” He smiled at Susan. “I let you have them because it felt like they belonged to you. It was the night you left for Germany. I would have given you anything.”

  He looked at Ricky. “There is one favor I will ask. Perhaps we must be honest and call it a test. I need to know that you truly work with the spirit world. We have two familiar ghosts residing here. They are my great aunties Sung Pee Win and Sung Cia, sisters of my grandfather, who died in this house. We treat them as honored relatives; they treat us like naughty children. They throw things around when we have tours. They rant and rave when Arden and I retire to our bedchamber. They invade my dreams.”

  He sighed. “They have made this one of the top tourist locations because they are so active, but I can’t live with them anymore. There are enough stories of their exploits, so we can ride forward on their reputation. We could provide sound effects, and the visitors would shiver just as much as when they act up. Could you convince them to go on to the Celestial Kingdom?”

  Ricky nodded. “I am asking Moon for your aunties’ Akashic Records, so I now have information that works toward our goal. In return for this, we would like copies of the scrolls that Moon and Nory have located in your cave. They found information for both the Bi Mo Chu and the Bing Ta Cri. We’d like to review them in person as well. We have the spirit of Sima Qian on our team. He will translate anything that you might not be familiar with. Does that work for you?”

  Sung Ho looked at the group. “With one more proviso: if all goes as planned, I would like to join your tour. I have friends who are in management with the Tours of China organization. They could easily fit me in. Is that acceptable? I would like to have a chance to redeem my grandfather’s honor. I no longer wish to feel guilty for his naivety.”

  “Would you want to bring Arden with you as well?” David asked.

  Ho sighed. “That would look too much like a romantic interlude, and the government would take notice. Our trips are clandestine. I will think of a way that would m
ake traveling with you seem a part of my duties. The office of tourism works alongside the national archives. The company running your tour is based in Germany, even though it is called Tours of China. The government is always looking for ways to spy on private enterprise.”

  David looked to the rest, and there were no objections. “I guess it’s time for Ricky to have a conversation with your honored aunties.”

  Ho smiled. “I best introduce you; otherwise, you won’t get any cooperation. Do you need help from your group?”

  “I’m bringing Nory. In my experience, a beautiful infant breaks the ice,” Ricky replied.

  Ricky carried the wide-awake baby up the long winding stairway to the second level. Ho led her down a dark narrow hall to a room at the back. He knocked on the door. “Honored Aunties, I have two special visitors for you. May we come in?”

  Ricky heard a clink and a clank from inside of the room just before Ho opened the door. A whish of cold air moved out into the hallway and surrounded them then seemed to usher them into the aunties’ domain. Ho was stopped at the door. “I guess they only want to talk to you and Nory. They are upset with me again.”

  Ricky smiled. “We’ll be fine. Go enjoy the others.” Ho nodded and left, a look of concern moved across his face.

  Ricky surveyed the large room. On a marble altar near the window was a shelf with two ceramic urns with Chinese characters, which Ricky imagined, named the occupants. There was a small fireplace with a grate, next to which was a table with photos of the sisters throughout their lives: the girls with their father, mother and brother; the girls dressed for a party; the girls, now women, beaming next to an array of painted vases, cups, and plates all showing the progression as they aged. Then they are included on either side of their father in his funeral picture then next to their mother’s last portrait. Finally, their own funeral pictures ended the display.

  Ricky and Nory lifted easily out of their bodies, changing their clothing to that which Sima Qian advised them would be appropriate for a visit with women of their status. Nory chose to remain an infant rather than take on her teenage persona. Ricky turned around and looked into the ghostly eyes of Pee Win and Cia. The two were dressed in silk dresses, their hair piled on their heads, looking like the photos that had shown their art. Neither of them had a wrinkle on their faces, and though they were two years apart, they looked like twins.

  “Our grandnephew has forgotten his manners. He failed to tell us your names. I am Sung Pee Win, better known as ‘Winy’ to my friends. This is my sister Sung Cia who goes by ‘C.’”

  Ricky smiled. “This is my daughter Eleanor Marie Clark, who is called Nory by friends and family. I am Rachelle Therese Banner Clark, and I am called Ricky. I am honored to meet you. I was admiring the lovely ceramic collection in your picture. Please, can you tell me about it?”

  “Look at the pieces in the display cases on the wall,” the ghost of C informed them. Ricky took Nory to the built-in cabinets filled with delicate vases, tea cups, plates and pots, all covered with expertly painted flowers, sea shells and Chinese characters. Nory reached out to them and smiled, eagerly touching the glass.

  “Little Nory loves them. If we still had bodies, we would be her teachers,” Winy said with a smile.

  “I bet you ladies designed every one of them and many more besides. Did you create the blank forms as well?” Ricky asked.

  Both ladies beamed. “We did,” said C. “We had a kiln in the cellar next to the place where father built the treasure cave door. The cave was the perfect place to cool the forms after their final baking. We were famous for our art. We made more money than father one year.”

  Ricky smiled appreciatively. “That was a great accomplishment. Did it upset the balance of the family?”

  Winy and C looked at each other and giggled like schoolgirls. “We were barely in our twenties, and our income exceeded what father earned. It was not socially acceptable. Daughters could never earn more than their patriarch. Father threatened to take our tools but thought better of it when he realized our funds were paying for the maintenance of the house. Instead, he punished us by not allowing participation in the social life of Shanghai. He said we had to choose between our art and marriage. We chose our art, but we did sneak out from time to time and had friends our parents knew nothing about.”

  “And, Winy, you had a baby. Is that not true?” Ricky asked in a soothing voice.

  Winy startled. Phosphorescent tears flowed down her ghostly form, pooling in a circle around her feet. C hugged her sister close to her and gave Ricky a sharp look. “We were having a pleasant visit. Why bring up such pain?”

  “I did not do it to be cruel. I can read the records of people’s lives. I know Winy had to give up her little girl, and both of you gave up so much more to please your parents. I can do something that will help you regain some of those lost opportunities,” Ricky said.

  Winy looked up, eyes blazing and small objects started moving around in the room. “How can you possibly give us back our lives? Can you turn back time? Can you take the steel from our father’s heart? He gave all to our brother Park and allowed us to keep our business, dying here as wrinkled old spinsters. How can you change that?”

  “I work with spirits who feel stuck in their old lives after their physical bodies are gone. I can guide you to the spirit world. There, you examine your lives, and decide how the next incarnation might be different, but this only happens if you release your hold on this place and these personalities. Does this make sense to you?”

  “But that would spoil the fun. We are taking our revenge on the male gender of our family. Our nephew is a disgrace. He sleeps with men. He invited a man of mixed heritage to be his husband. He has no sense of what is proper. Who will remind him of his responsibilities if we leave?” C said, as she slammed a book on the floor and tipped over her crematory urn.

  Ricky nodded. “Doesn’t that sound like the judgements inflicted upon Winy when she gave birth out of marriage? Didn’t they call you both harlots? Didn’t they belittle you for forsaking your agreements? That stung so deeply that neither of you got over it. Why inflict pain on Sung Ho? He is a generous and intelligent man. Isn’t it time you stopped the drama?”

  C opened her mouth wide and her tongue turned into a snake with yellow eyes and long teeth. She advanced toward Ricky and Nory, no longer the pleasant hostess.

  Winy reached out and pulled her sister back. “No, Cia. Stop acting the vengeful ghost. You’re frightening the baby. Ricky speaks the truth. I’ve thought the same, time and again. Why not go on to the ancestors and ask for their help creating new lives? If she can help us leave, I am ready to take the offer.”

  Cia dissolved into tears and hugged her sister. “But we’ll be punished for our behavior. We dishonored our parents, tortured our nephew. A price has to be paid.”

  Ricky smiled at them. “You have been in a self-created prison for how many years? Don’t you think that’s punishment enough?”

  “If I am correct, we have been here almost eighty years,” Winy said.

  “Yes, it is the year 2004. It is about time you started enjoying life again. Both of you enjoyed reading the history of the dynasties, am I correct?”

  Winy smiled. “We went so far as to learn the ancient characters. We studied back to the first of the dynasties, that of the Xia. We searched the treasure cave and the museums for examples of their work, and went through the art of each of the emperors in turn. With this information, we duplicated their styles and reproduced them.”

  “So, you know of Sima Qian?” Ricky asked.

  “Oh, yes. He was a famous writer and astrologer. His work was fascinating,” C contributed.

  “I am honored to introduce him to you,” Ricky said. There was a puff of light, and Sima Qian’s form was in the room. Nory reached out to him, and he took her in his arms, smiling at the Sung sisters.

  He bowed deeply to the artisans. “I am honored to meet you, ladies. You are courageous; you remind me
of the powerful women of the ancient dynasties. We need you in the Celestial Kingdom. You can continue your work there and put the germ of creativity in the being of women in the current generations. And, of course, you can choose what you want to be next.”

  The ghosts danced in excitement. “We are ready to go,” Winy said. With that, the gateway to the Celestial City of the Han became visible in the room. Sima handed back Nory to her mother then guided the ladies through to the next stage of their lives.

  The moment they left, the door to their room opened and Sung Ho stuck his head in, a beaming smile on his face. “They’re gone, right? I could feel a whish of energy. Please tell me I’m right.”

  Ricky, back now to her physical self, nodded in agreement. “They will be much too busy to cause you any more grief.”

  “We’ve got lunch laid out downstairs, and you can tell me about it while we eat,” Ho said.

  “Then on to the treasure cave, correct?” Ricky asked.

  “Of course. The rest of your group has been reviewing what you’re looking for, so it should take minutes rather than hours.”

  A large turntable containing a spread of rice, crispy noodles, vegetables, meats and sauces was at the center of the dining room table. “I called my favorite restaurant,” Ho said with a smile. “Enjoy.”

  Nory’s car seat was attached to a chair and Bonta fed her a plate of rice and noodles and pureed meats, while Ricky ate with the others. Between bites of food, she told how she had convinced the aunties to leave.

  “So they followed Sima Qian through the Celestial Gate of the Han Kingdom. I think they’ll like it there. They can paint and create to their hearts content until they decide what they want to do in their next incarnation.”