“Wah,” Mei Ju whispered to Shadow, seated between Bak Ju and herself. “Because of you, Rooster finally did something that pleased Empress.”
A pink tide rose from Shadow’s neck to her plump, dimpled cheeks.
Empress, jumping up from her chair, told Rooster, “Start over so I can sing with you.”
Astounded, Mei Ju gazed slack-jawed at Empress and Rooster standing peaceably shoulder to shoulder. The seniors’ mouths likewise fell open, their eyes bulged, and all around Mei Ju juniors were gulping, smothering gasps, disguising them as small coughs. There were even a few fawning shouts of, “Ho yeh, wonderful!”
Rooster must have been more shocked than anyone. As usual, however, her sallow face did not reveal her feelings, and her deep-set eyes, which sometimes betrayed her, were blank.
Holding up the wooden fish, she struck it with the mallet to give Empress and herself the beat, and together they chanted:
“Everybody has gathered
To congratulate you, Shadow.
With red and green threads,
You paint pictures of wondrous beauty.
Lotus floating in rippling water,
Ducks flying low over the lake.
Golden orioles flitting among branches,
Bats weaving in and out of clouds,
Lions sitting on a rock face,
Baring their silver teeth.”
Pausing, Rooster glanced meaningfully at Empress’s sharp little teeth bared in song, and Mei Ju tensed. Shadow—her face now a deep crimson—stammered that the song accurately described her mother’s abilities, not hers.
Shadow’s words pulled Empress’s attention from Rooster. Even Mei Ju, watching in awe, almost believed Shadow had deliberately interrupted. And Empress, waving genially, signaled for Shadow to be silent, Rooster to continue, the rest of the girls to join in.
Following Rooster’s beat, then, they all gaily chanted the final lines as one:
“Shadow, you are so talented.
You embroider red peaches and green willows,
Peacocks fanning out their tails,
Silver dragons swimming out to sea,
White cranes soaring up to Heaven.
Yes, Shadow, our Shadow,
You are talented indeed.”
So talented that she was changing the girls’ house into a joyful place, Mei Ju thought gleefully.
To Shadow’s surprise, she enjoyed the girls’ house. Before, in games requiring more than two people, she’d been restricted to watching her brother play with other boys. Now, when not learning weeping songs, teaching embroidery, or serving the seniors, she played with the other juniors in the courtyard, and Shadow reveled in pitting her strength against them in snapping the dragon, her skills in kicking the shuttlecock, jumping rope.
Between bites of watermelon in their courtyard at home, Shadow regaled her family with a dramatic account of a narrow victory.
Elder Brother snatched Shadow’s half-eaten piece of melon. “You’d win more often if you weren’t such a fatty.”
“If I didn’t use your strategies, I’d never win,” she laughed, threatening to smear him with her sticky sweet fingers.
Sobering, she let her hands fall. “Rooster never wins.”
Mama sopped up the juice dribbling down both her chins with a rag, sliced more melon. “The poor girl’s probably too weak from hunger or too exhausted from work or both.”
“I’m surprised Rooster has any energy for play.” Baba spat out a mouthful of seeds. “Old Bloodsucker owns her and her parents and little brother like he owns the house they live in and the fields they work, and you can bet he drives them hard.”
Shadow picked up another piece of melon. “Empress drives Rooster hard too.”
Elder Brother snorted. “From what you’ve told us, Rooster is as pig-headed as Empress.”
“Rooster’s brave,” Shadow countered.
“She may be brave,” Mama said. “But since Rooster’s bravery just drags more grief down on her, she’s also foolish.”
“Like her parents. Not only did they get themselves deep in debt to Old Bloodsucker, but they insist their son is going to become a laureate and save them, even raise them high.” Baba dug a seed out of his melon’s pink flesh, threw it into his mouth, and made a show of swallowing it. “That boy has as much chance of becoming a laureate as I have of sprouting a watermelon from this seed. If not for their clan’s free school, he wouldn’t even know how to read, and soon as he gets big enough to put in a full day’s work, Old Bloodsucker is going to force him into the fields.”
“Rooster and her family aren’t just foolish. They’re trouble,” Elder Brother, pretending to go after Shadow’s melon, breathed in her ear. “So don’t you do anything stupid on her account.”
The northern winds that brought winter to Strongworm could be bone chilling, and the night was so bitter cold that Mei Ju could see her own breath inside their common room. The girls had piled all their quilts onto the beds on either side of the altar, and they huddled together—the eight juniors in one bed, the four seniors in the other. Each girl had a small pile of roasted chestnuts on her lap. Just raked out of the cinders, they were steaming hot, and Mei Ju, snuggled between Bak Ju and Shadow, was satisfied with savoring the chestnuts’ heat through the thick layers of quilt. From the little yelps on both sides of the room, however, Mei Ju realized the chestnuts’ delicious fragrance was too tantalizing for some to resist.
“Rooster,” Empress purred. “Give us a song while we wait for the chestnuts to cool.”
Rooster, leaning over the foot of the bed, jerked the quilts, rattling the chestnuts, setting off a ragged chorus of “Wai,” “Watch it,” “What are you doing?” while hands, Mei Ju’s included, flew protectively to keep them from rolling off the bed.
“Sorry.” Rooster grasped the wooden fish from the top of the chest. “It’s too cold to get up.”
Withdrawing the mallet from the fish’s mouth, Rooster swiftly beat out a rhythm and began to chant:
“Everybody dreams of happiness,
Yet we all cry at birth.
Destinies …”
“Stop!” Empress ordered. “We’ve heard that song a thousand times.”
With only one saucer of burning oil lighting the room and dark smoke still seeping in from the cinders in the kitchen, Mei Ju couldn’t see Empress’s face. But there was no mistaking the irritation in her voice, and Mei Ju sucked in her breath—held it as Shadow beside her bravely intervened.
“That song is worn. All the songs are. It’s been so long since any wandering singers have come to Strongworm. Soon as the weather warms up, though, they’ll be on the road again. Then we’ll learn some new songs.”
Rooster, beating the wooden fish with her mallet, trilled in a high-pitched falsetto, “But if just one of us could read, we wouldn’t have to wait for a wandering singer to bring us new wooden fish songs, we could learn from song books.”
“Stop that nonsense,” Empress snapped.
Mei Ju flinched as though she’d been the one reprimanded, and she silently pleaded for Rooster to obey, for Shadow—who’d begun to tremble—to nevertheless find a way to distract Empress and improve her mood.
Rooster set down the fish and mallet. “If we could read, we wouldn’t have to always wait for others to teach us. We could learn for ourselves.”
So indisputable was Rooster’s logic that Mei Ju nodded.
Her sister jabbed her in the ribs. “You know better than to agree with that troublemaker.”
Of course Grandmother—like everyone else in Strongworm—spoke against learning for girls, and until a few moments ago, Mei Ju had accepted their pronouncements without thought. Now, stiffening her neck in obedience to her sister’s warning, Mei Ju suddenly realized Grandfather never completed a lease agreement with a landlord until he’d read it out loud to Grandmother. Furthermore, it was she who caught any dubious phrasing that had to be changed. Likewise Ba and Second and Third Uncle relied on Gra
ndmother to interpret the shades of meaning in the almanac whether they were searching for omens or for lucky or unlucky days. Did Grandmother ever secretly wish she could read the almanac and contracts for herself?
The possibility that Grandmother and Rooster might share the same desire made Mei Ju want to giggle. But in the bed opposite, chestnuts were cascading noisily in every direction as the seniors threw off their quilts and scrambled onto the floor; and Mei Ju, terrified they were coming to attack her for nodding agreement with Rooster, pressed silently, soberly against her sister.
The seniors, however, swarmed around the foot of the juniors’ bed, scolding Rooster alone. And as her terror receded, Mei Ju’s belly churned with a terrible and all-too-familiar mix of pity for Rooster, relief for herself, shame at her relief.
“So your brother isn’t the only one in your family with hopes of becoming a laureate, eh? But remember, you’re a girl, and matchmakers look for girls with no learning.”
“Because ‘Learning for girls opens the door to vices.’”
“And ‘A virtuous woman has no learning.’”
“Then why has the district magistrate hired a tutor for his daughters?” Rooster shot back.
The seniors, clearly uncertain how to respond, fell silent. But Empress soon recovered.
“It’s not for us to question our betters,” she roared. “Or to ape them.”
Gripping Rooster’s bony shoulders, Empress shook her. “Come spring, you’ll be starting your apprenticeship in reeling. If you refuse to listen, how will you learn?”
Rooster tossed her head. “If your husband mistreats you, how will you send word to your father for help?”
Again Mei Ju found herself nodding, felt her sister’s elbow. Shaking Rooster even harder, Empress yanked her onto her feet, and Mei Ju whispered thanks to Bak Ju for saving her from the seniors’ wrath.
“Who will want you for a wife?” Empress sneered.
The rest of the seniors followed Empress’s lead. Then some of the juniors chimed in.
“You’d best be wishing for hips, not schooling.”
“Yes. You’re so skinny, how will a son grow in you?”
“How will he get out?”
As their humiliation of Rooster intensified, Mei Ju thought wistfully of her mistaken belief that Empress was mellowing, the girls’ house turning into a joyful place. Shadow, trembling so hard her teeth clattered, burrowed under their quilts. Mei Ju slid in after her, shutting Rooster’s attackers from sight, muffling their voices. Mei Ju, however, couldn’t escape the sense that Rooster’s claims had merit, that her own cowardly silence was as evil as the attackers’ abuse.
Wily as a Fox
SHADOW had understood Empress’s warning, “Just as one wrongdoer in a family can shame all its members, one wrongdoer in our girls’ house can pull us all down. So if you want to preserve your own chances for a good match, you will tell no one about Rooster’s desire for learning.” Shadow, however, had seen no reason to hold back from telling her brother.
In the midst of her heated description of Rooster’s brave stand against her many attackers, Elder Brother—who’d been stacking dried mulberry branches in the corner of the kitchen—strode over to the door between them and their parents in the common room. As he eased it shut, the tang of burning grasses and mulberry sharpened, the rich aroma from the pot of fish head soup simmering on the stove thickened. Spinning around, he squatted beside Shadow, who was feeding the fire.
“You’re not thinking of teaching Rooster, are you?” Elder Brother asked in hushed tones.
Marvelling at how he could see into her heart, Shadow rocked back on her heels, and confided, “I came up with a plan while I was under the quilt with Mei Ju.”
“Are you crazy?” he hissed.
Hurt, Shadow protested, “The lessons will be secret, and I’m sure Rooster would never betray us. Nor would Mei Ju.”
“Next you’ll be telling me you’ve decided to teach the whole house, even Empress!” Elder Brother spluttered.
“Don’t be angry,” Shadow pleaded. “At least give me a chance to explain.”
“All right,” he conceded grimly. “Explain.”
“Remember what you told me about how you’d have died of boredom in school if I hadn’t given you the excitement of trying to teach me without either of us getting caught?”
“I was a foolish boy.”
“It’s not boredom that drove me to embroidery,” Shadow persisted. “But I did feel as if I’d die if Mama wouldn’t teach me. And I know Rooster feels the same about book learning.”
“What about Mei Ju? Are you going to tell me she has a burning desire to read and write too?”
Shadow, uncertain whether Mei Ju would dare grasp the opportunity to learn despite her nods of agreement during the attack, admitted, “No. But I felt Rooster’s wanting so strongly, I trembled.”
“I’m trembling over what will happen if people find out I taught you how to read and write. Our parents will be blamed as much as me for my wrong doing, and no family will take you for a daughter-in-law.”
“Good,” Shadow joked. “I can stay home with you.”
“I’m serious.” Elder Brother gripped her arm so tight, she winced. “Who’s more important to you? Rooster or me?
“You, of course.”
“Then forget about teaching her. Or Mei Ju. Or anyone else.”
Shocked at Elder Brother’s vehemence, Shadow did try to forget. But there was no chance that Rooster could learn from her brother. Even if Laureate were willing to teach her, the ancestral hall in which their clan held school had no windows she could look through. Nor could Rooster steal time from slaving for Old Bloodsucker to meet secretly with Laureate. And each time Shadow studied an embroidery pattern or picked up needle and thread, she was reminded of Rooster’s inability to satisfy her desire to study a book, to pick up brush and paper.
Rooster’s hunger gnawed at Shadow until she could no longer enjoy painting with a needle. Still she didn’t dare risk Elder Brother’s affection. Then Shadow realized that if she made her plan for secret lessons foolproof, Elder Brother need never know that she’d disobeyed him.
Step by step, over and over, Shadow went through her plan, each time refining it a little more. And when at last she could find no flaw, she sought a sign from Heaven: If she succeeded in emptying the box in which her brother kept his old school supplies without his notice, she could proceed without fear.
In the girls’ house, Mei Ju slept between Bak Ju and Shadow. Usually, Bak Ju was the first to rise, and the sudden loss of her warmth coupled with the stirring of their quilt in winter or the rustle of their bedmat in summer would waken Mei Ju. The whispers and the kneading now nudging Mei Ju into wakefulness did not have her sister’s deep familiarity, however. And, uncertain whether she was dreaming, Mei Ju opened her eyes to black night, Shadow’s plump fingers pressing against her shoulder and hip, rolling her away from Bak Ju towards the edge of their bed.
“Come.” Silhouetted against the ghost-white mosquito netting surrounding their bed, Shadow tipped her head towards the door. She raised the netting. “Let’s go where we can talk.”
Fully awake now, Mei Ju eagerly slid off the bed through the opening. The floor of their sleeping room was cool against her bare feet, but she didn’t attempt to find her clogs. She didn’t want to take the time. Besides, they’d clatter, and Mei Ju had waited too long for an opportunity to be alone with Shadow to risk waking Bak Ju or the girls asleep in the other bed. Excited, Mei Ju followed Shadow’s soft scuffing out the door, through the kitchen, into the damp chill of the courtyard.
To Mei Ju’s disappointment, Rooster was perched on a stool, leaning forward expectantly. Of course Rooster always rose before anyone else to replace the burned-out incense sticks on Gwoon Yum’s altar with new, to sweep away the fallen ash, then bow her head and pray. But an upward glance proved it was early even for Rooster: stars glowed and the crescent moon was still high in the cloudless
spring sky.
“I didn’t know how else we could speak in private,” Shadow apologized, dragging the bench by the wall over to Rooster, guiding Mei Ju onto it, dropping down beside her. “And I’ve been wanting to tell you …”
Unexpectedly, she broke off in midsentence. Mei Ju, curious yet hesitant to prompt her, shifted on the bench. Across from them, Rooster leaned so far forward that the stool teetered precariously. But she, too, said nothing.
Finally, Shadow started up again. At first she repeated the same words, only she spoke haltingly. Then she ended in a rush, “I can read and write.”
Mei Ju, certain she’d misheard, blurted, “Hah?”
Rooster grasped Shadow’s knee. “Who taught you?”
“I can’t tell you that, but if you want to learn, I’ll teach you.”
In the darkness, her voice seemed disembodied, what she was saying unreal, and Mei Ju stammered, “Us learn to read?”
“Why not?” Rooster demanded.
Mei Ju, recalling how she’d nodded at Rooster’s logic during Empress’s attack, also remembered Bak Ju’s elbow, her urgent warnings to desist, the lectures against learning for girls in the months since.
“Well?” Rooster prompted.
“No one will know about the lessons,” Shadow assured. “We’ll set up a bed in the loft for the three of us so I can teach you in secret.”
Mei Ju smiled. In the loft she and Shadow would be free of prying eyes and ears, able at last to forge the joyful friendship Mei Ju had imagined for them.
Her smile faded. No, not free. Not entirely. Rooster would be there.
Rooster, leaving one hand on Shadow’s knee, seized Mei Ju’s with her other. “Let’s clean out the loft and set up our bed this morning so we can start our lessons tonight.”
Hot with shame, Mei Ju berated herself for her self-interest. Here surely was an opportunity for her to finally show Rooster kindness, as Shadow was.
Rooster’s hands slid from Mei Ju and Shadow.
“What’s wrong?” Shadow asked.
“We haven’t been friends,” Rooster answered bluntly. “So there’ll be all sorts of questions about why we suddenly want to share a bed in the loft.”
The Moon Pearl Page 4