Mulberry and Peach

by Hualing Nieh

  The sound of the dog, the voices and the gong rush from the main gate through the Gate of Dangling Flowers into the courtyard.

  An oil lamp is hung on the courtyard gate. Shadows of men with clubs in their hands appear on the paper window.

  The dog is still barking.

  The shadows vanish.

  A gong sounds.

  Six shadow puppets appear on the paper window. Six heads on six sticks nod and bow towards the barking dog.

  Voices come from under the window. ‘Congratulations to the bride and groom. Today is a happy occasion for the Shen family. If you don’t make merry, you won’t prosper. We are shadow puppets gathered together from all corners of the world: Pigsy, Monkey, Cripple Li, Chung Li, the God of Thunder, the Fox Spirit, and White Snake Spirit. We have heads but no bodies. You people have bodies but no heads.’

  Two voices mimic the voices of clowns, an old man and a woman:Chao Ch’ien Sun Li (Old Man)

  Next door threshing rice (Female Clown)

  Chou Wu Cheng Wang (Old Man)

  Steal rice and take sugar (Female Clown)

  Feng Chen Chu Wei (Old Man)

  Dog climbs up God’s altar (Female Clown)

  Chiang Shen Han Yang (Old Man)

  Eat the child and be silent (Female Clown)

  The gong sounds again. The two voices begin to improvise nonsense variations on the Confucian text, The Great Learning:The way to great learning (Old Man)

  is to knock down Teacher (Female Clown)

  To understand enlightened virtue (Old Man)

  is to pick up Teacher (Female Clown)

  To be close to the people (Old Man)

  is to carry Teacher out the door (Female Clown)

  To achieve great goodness (Old Man)

  is to bury Teacher in a muddy hole (Female Clown)

  The flickering shadow-clowns on the window sing to us. Chia-kang and I roll on the bed, scratching ourselves wildly. The shadows lurch towards the dog and the dog howls. The shadows swing toward us and we freeze on the bed. Their voices begin counting, the male and female clowns alternating the count:One two (Male Clown)

  Two one (Female Clown)

  One two three (Male Clown)

  Three two one (Female Clown)

  One two three four (Male Clown)

  Four three two one (Female Clown)

  One two three four five (Male Clown)

  Five four three two one (Female Clown)

  One two three four five six (Male Clown)

  Six five four three two one (Female Clown)

  One two three four five six seven (Male Clown)

  Seven six five four three two one (Female Clown)

  One two three four five six seven eight (Male Clown)

  Eight seven six five four three two one (Female Clown)

  One two three four five six seven eight nine (Male Clown)

  Kill! (Male and Female Clowns)

  Suddenly the heads plunge towards the dog. Then all we hear is the crashing of sticks against the wall.

  The dog howls and the door to our room bursts open. The dog darts into the room.

  It rushes from corner to corner and finally scrambles under the bed. It yelps hysterically and its back thumps against the mattress as it twists and turns. It rubs against the furry substance that litters the floor.

  The students stand in the doorway. They hold the sticks with the puppet heads, and they laugh at us: the two of us on the bed and the dog under the bed.

  Chia-kang and I throw off the quilt and get out of bed.

  They clap and cheer.

  I stand in the corner naked. Chia-kang, also naked, picks up the mattress and the dog chases madly in a circle under the bed frame, barking.

  The students drive the dog out with their sticks.

  Chia-kang shuts the door.

  The dog howls in the courtyard.

  There is a loud thumping of sticks and the dog stops barking. It is dead.

  Chia-kang and I lie on the bed and listen to the sound of fur rubbing against the stone slabs. They are dragging the dog’s carcass away. I curl up into a ball.

  Chia-kang turns over and straddles my body.

  ‘Mulberry, you’re not a virgin!’ He pushes into my body and blurts out the first words of the wedding night. Then he clenches his teeth. He is the first one to speak tonight.

  ‘Peace has been restored to Peking. Fu Tso-i has announced a peace communique. From 22 January on, more than two hundred thousand troops under his command will be garrisoned outside Peking to await reorganisation by the People’s Liberation Army. The Peking-Tientsin campaign has finally ended . . .’

  Suddenly the shelling stops. The lights come back on.

  The hawkers begin yelling in the lanes again.

  ‘Sweet apples!’

  ‘Fresh dates!’

  ‘Popcorn!’

  It is snowing. Powdery snow flutters in the air. It’s one of the few times it has snowed since I arrived in Peking.

  Chia-kang sprawls on top of me, his head dangling over my shoulder. Suddenly he collapses.

  He makes me tell him about Refugee Student in Chü-t’ang Gorge. I tell him that I have forgotten what happened in the past. I tell him that the night I married him I made up my mind: even if he had to roll down the Mountain of Knives I would roll down with him and if he died, I would be a widow all of my life. He says I shouldn’t have thought about being a widow on our wedding night. It’s an unlucky omen. He rolls off my body and stretches out beside me.

  The wet smell between my legs makes me want to vomit. I pick up his hand and place it on my breast. He slides his hand down my body.

  When his hand reaches below my stomach it stops. He asks if Refugee Student touched me like that. I repeat: I forgot what happened in the past a long time ago. But he is obsessed. He caresses me but he thinks about him.

  I say, then don’t touch me. He says he can’t help it, he has to touch me. Then go on, I say.

  His hand slides down my stomach. The winter sun shines on the window paper.

  He drives into my body several times, then turns over and sprawls beside me. He wipes his leg with a washcloth and laughs, saying that next year the Communists will discover that the population of Peking has dramatically increased. In a city under siege, there’s nothing to do except make love. We can call our children the generation of the siege.

  ‘It’s New Year’s. God of Wealth for Sale.’ A hawker selling paper images of the God of Wealth yells from The Gate of Dangling Flowers.

  ‘It’s getting windy. Don’t let the flame go out. Chia-kang, hold it carefully ... At last, here we are, the five branches of the Shen family together again. Dozens of burning flames, like little flowers. Look, the flames of great-grandfather and great-grandmother are arranged in the first row. The flames of the sons and daughters-in-law and grandchildren and the flames of the concubines all arranged in order in front of the altar. See how they stretch across three courtyards to the entrance of Li-shih Lane. Pass the lighted flames along, hold them carefully. Chia-kang, be careful. It’s getting windy . . .’

  ‘Mother,’ Chia-kang is standing beside the k’ang. ‘Mother, are you awake? The Eighth Army has entered the city. There is going to be a huge parade today. Mulberry, Hsing-hsing and I want to go watch it from the Gate of Heavenly Peace.’

  ‘Oh, have all the flames gone out?’ She turns over on the k’ang. ‘Chia-kang, where is my flame?’

  ‘This is no time to think about flames, Mother. The Eighth Army has entered the city.’

  ‘Oh, I thought we were at our old house on Li-shih Lane.’

  ‘That was twenty years ago, Mother. Today is 3 February 1949. Eighth Army has entered the city. We’re going to the Gate of Heavenly Peace to see what they look like.’

  ‘Don’t go. Be careful. You might run into Chia-ch’ing.’ She stares hard at us for a while. ‘Chia-kang, Mulberry, Hsing-hsing, are you all here in this room with me?’

  ‘Yes, Mother, we’re all here. You have been
lying in bed too long. When you get better we’ll go out for a walk with you.’

  ‘Good. Just like before, in the spring when we went to see the black peonies at the Temple of Reverence. They are the same flowers for which Empress Wu held a ceremony to make them bloom faster, but it didn’t work. But I saw them in bloom.’ She laughs and turns back to face the wall.

  ‘That’s right, Mother. You even saw the hortensia bloom in the imperial garden. In all of Peking, there is only one hortensia flower and it only blooms once a year. The peony is the flower of wealth and nobility and the hortensia flower is the flower of peace. And you have seen them both.’

  ‘Yes, Chia-kang, I am one of the lucky ones. Chia-kang, with all this fighting, we didn’t really celebrate the New Year. All we did to celebrate was to paste up the Gods of the Door. Next year we really have to do things right.’

  ‘That’s right, Mother. I’ll go with you to do the New Year shopping. We’ll buy New Year pictures at the flower market: “Fortune and Longevity”, “Three-fold Happiness”, “Good Fortune as One Wishes”, “Wealth and High Rank Overflowing”, “Plump Pig Bows at the Gate”, “Summon Wealth and Gather Treasures”, we’ll buy them all. We’ll buy some pretty lanterns and hang them in the courtyard, in the house, everywhere. We’ll buy some long strings of firecrackers and set them off and scraps of red paper will fly all over the courtyard. And I’ll buy you some pretty velvet flowers, red and green, to wear in your hair.’

  ‘You want to dress me up to look like a coquette,’ laughs Aunt Shen. ‘There are many different festivals for the New Year. On the eve of the twenty-third of the twelfth month, there is the offering to the Kitchen God. On the night of the thirtieth, you must welcome back the Kitchen God and the God of Happiness. The second day of the New Year, you make offerings to the God of Wealth. The eighth day of the New Year, you make offerings to the God of Wealth. The eighth day of the New Year, you pass around lighted flames to thank the ancestors for their protection and blessings in keeping our family healthy and safe. From the thirteenth to the seventeenth is the Lantern Festival. We’ll buy a glazed glass lotus-flower lantern to hang at the Main Gate . . .

  ‘Those students tore off one side of the Main Gate for firewood,’ Hsing-hsing says to me in a low voice. ‘If she goes on talking like this, we’ll miss the parade.’

  ‘Chia-kang, Mulberry, Hsing-hsing, sit down and chat with me. A little conversation cheers me up. You know what? I’ve been walking all over the main streets and the alleys. I went back to all the places I had been before: The White Cloud Temple, the Peach Palace, Yung-ho Palace, the Temple of Exalted Wealth, the Temple of the Fire God

  ... all the festivals at those temples. The Wen-ming Tea House where T’an Hsin-pei, Yang Hsiao-lou, and Yu Shu-yen sang opera. The Chi-hsiang Tea House where the great opera singers Mei Lan-fang and Yang Hsiao-lou sang. The tiger stalls at Tung-an Market and Hsi-tan Market. The Old Imperial Palace, the Pavilion of Sudden Rain, the Summer Palace. I visited the First Balcony overlooking the river in the northern part of the city and ate sesame biscuits and listened to the eunuchs of the Ch’ing dynasty telling stories. And I saw all the imperial parks. And the Wall of Nine Dragons still hasn’t fallen down. And ...’

  ‘Mother, we really have to go now. If we don’t go now, we’ll miss the parade.’

  ‘Chia-kang, what you don’t see can’t hurt you. Why do you want to go see the Communists?’

  ‘Everyone’s going, Auntie,’ says Hsing-hsing.

  ‘Chia-kang, what if you run into Chia-ch’ing?’

  ‘If Chia-ch’ing is there, there’ll be a big family reunion, won’t there?’ says Hsing-hsing.

  No one answers. Chia-kang reaches over and turns on the radio.

  ‘... I serve in the camp of the Hegemon of Western Ch’u. I am Yü-chi. I was well versed in the classics and in swordsmanship at an early age. Ever since that time I have followed my lord to campaigns and battles east and west. There have been hardships and difficulties. When will peace come . . .’

  ‘OK, you may go,’ the old lady says. ‘I’ll listen to Mei Lan-fang sing The Hegemon Bids Farewell to His Concubine!’

  A strong wind full of sand and grit swirls along the ground. Eventually, everything, everyone crumbles into sand at the touch of a finger. Peking has turned to sand. The streets in front of the Gate of Heavenly Peace, Kung-an Street, Ch’i-p’an Street, Ministry of Justice Street and East and West Ch’ang-an Street are filled with shadowy figures, moving through the sand.

  ‘Can you see the Gate of Heavenly Peace?’ Chia-kang asks me.

  We are walking on West Ch’ang-an Street toward the Gate of Heavenly Peace.

  ‘I can’t see anything. The sand is too thick.’

  Chia-kang and Hsing-hsing compete with each other to tell me, the outsider, about the Gate of Heavenly Peace.

  The Gate of Heavenly Peace is the main gate into the Imperial City. Inside the Imperial City, there’s a moat. The Forbidden City lies across the moat. Inside the Forbidden City are the Imperial Palaces. Each palace is surrounded by a high wall. The Gate of Heavenly Peace is a many-tiered tower on the city gate which sits on a white marble pedestal. The roof is covered with glazed yellow tile. The walls and the pillars are red. Inside and outside of the Gate of Heavenly Peace statues of beasts and dragons are standing. Prancing along the edge of the roof are dragons, phoenixes, lions, horses, seahorses, fish, fire-eating unicorns, and one Immortal. On each end is a beast with a dragon head, with a sword stuck in his back to keep him from escaping. There are also strange beasts whose tails stir up waves to make rain. The Rivei of Gold Water runs in front of the Gate of Heavenly Peace. Seven stone bridges straddle the river and on each bridge a pair of white marble pillars stand propping up the heavens. A plate has been placed on top of each pillar to gather dew. On each plate a dragon-headed wolf squats, facing south, watching for the emperor’s return. A dragon curls around each pillar, his four five-clawed. feet dance in the folds of the encircling clouds. Two stone lions squat in front of the Gate of Heavenly Peace. They have broad foreheads, curly manes. They lift their heads up and grin. Their plump glistening bodies are draped with fringed harnesses and bells. The lion on the left is playing with an embroidered ball with his right paw. The lioness on the right plays with a lion cub with her left paw. All these beasts and dragons protect the Imperial palaces. There is a lance wound on the lioness’s stomach. At the end of the Ming Dynasty the rebel, Li Chih-chen, fought his way into Peking as far as the Gate of Heavenly Peace. The stone lioness came to life and leaped at him. He lunged at her with his lance and she became stone again. Even now, when it rains, blood flows from the wound on her stomach.

  ‘We welcome the People’s Liberation Army to Peking,’ shouts from the distance the woman announcer with a precise, distinct voice.

  The Gate of Heavenly Peace is in front of us. We are standing beside the wounded lioness. The five-star flag, a huge portrait of Mao Tse-tung and banners with slogans are hung on the Gate of Heavenly Peace. ‘The Gate of Heavenly Peace is the sacred ground of the people’s liberation!’ ‘Celebration of the Liberation of Peking!’ ‘At the Gate of Heavenly Peace burns the eternal flame of struggle!’ A whirlwind of sand beats against the flags, the portrait, the banners.

  The shadow of the parade moves through the vast expanse of the square and approaches the Gate of Heavenly Peace.

  ‘. . . We welcome the strong, the victorious People’s Liberation Army. The People’s Liberation Army is the defender of peace in our fatherland! And the builder of socialism in our fatherland . . .’

  The voice gets louder. The parade is still invisible in the sandstorm. There is only the voice.

  ‘... The liberation of Peking is in accord with the eight conditions for peace which were laid down by the Chinese Communist Party and this is the first good example of ending the war by peaceful means. The liberation of Peking hastens the victorious conclusion of the War of the People’s Liberation . . .’ A procession of shadows is passing
by in the sandstorm.

  A giant portrait of Mao Tse-tung appears out of the sand and wind and is hoisted above the heads of a crowd of young men riding in the broadcast truck.

  ‘Long live Mao Tse-tung!’

  ‘Safeguard Chairman Mao’s eight conditions of peace! Punish the war criminals! Abolish the invalid constitution! Abolish the invalid legal system ...’

  The cries swirl away in the sandstorm.

  Workers.

  Students.

  Children.

  Civil servants.

  Groups of people shouting slogans and waving banners in the blowing sand file past the Gate of Heavenly Peace.

  Suddenly comes the noise of drums, cymbals, trumpets, and whistles. Children on stilts dressed in loose robes with wide sleeves appear, waving coloured fans and dancing with their instruments to the Rice Sprout Song.

  The People’s Liberation Army emerges from the sandstorm.

  Infantry.

  Cavalry.

  Armoured Corps.

  Tanks equipped with machine guns and mortars are followed by ambulances and jeeps. Hundreds of vehicles, all US-made, rumble past the Gate of Heavenly Peace. Soldiers, dressed in full uniform, their faces wrinkled and expressionless, very young yet very old, stare straight ahead as they march - six abreast, past the soaring, circling dragons and beasts which protect the Gate of Heavenly Peace. They vanish into the blowing sand. Rows and rows of soldiers emerge from the sand and wind.

  ‘Look, it goes on and on,’ an onlooker in the silent crowd remarks as we watch from the Gate of Heavenly Peace.