Little Paradise

by Gabrielle Wang

  ‘You are a bad man! Why are you doing this?’ She was shaking.

  ‘My daughter …’ Chen Su Ting said, bowing his head. ‘I am ashamed to face you.’ He began mumbling, looking down at his slippers. ‘It is true I have changed, done bad things. I am not the good father you remember …’ He trembled. ‘I can be better again, now that you have come back. Just do not hate me!’ He looked up at her. The pleading in his eyes was pitiful.

  Mirabel stood staring at the man who had ruined Mama’s life. She saw his papery skin, his hollow cheeks, his crumpled body. She didn’t know why, but she took the peony clip from her hair and set it down on the window ledge.

  ‘Be a good father,’ she said, and walked away.

  As Mirabel left Chen Su Ting’s house, the sun broke through the clouds. She felt light-headed, intoxicated. It was as if someone had sliced open the sky, letting everything bad in the world fly outwards and away.

  At home, she checked on Bao Bao, who was still sleeping, then stepped onto the end of her bed and pulled down her painting box from the cupboard. She headed for the good room. She had a new and brilliant idea.

  For years, she had been told that the dresses she created changed people’s lives, enhanced their natural beauty, reached deep inside their heart and soul and brought forth qualities never seen before. So why shouldn’t it work for Mama?

  This time Mirabel would design a dress of healing.

  She sat down quietly on the sofa. On the opposite wall, above the fireplace, she saw her reflection in the oval mirror. And there was someone else sitting beside her. It was her mother, serene and still. Not the real flesh and blood of her, but Mama’s spirit; who she really was.

  With eyes closed, she slowed her breathing, following the familiar path she always took when she left the outside world behind – the buzzing of a fly, the clink of bottles from the pub across the road, Jimmy’s ball bouncing against the wall upstairs, a cricket’s sweet song – all gradually faded as she went deep within herself. She knew that if she were patient as she wandered through her imagination, she would encounter that one perfect dress – that dress meant only for Mama. It was there, already fully formed and waiting. She just needed to find it. But to find this dress, a dress with the power to transform a life, she sensed that she might have to go farther into this mysterious realm than she had ever gone before, right to the heart of it, where time stood still.

  She felt Mama walking beside her, and suddenly they were on a path that wound through trees engulfed in low-lying fog. Mama was wearing the dressing gown she had worn at Forest Glades when Mirabel came to visit so long ago. One design after the other passed before their eyes, but they were for other people. Not one of them was perfect for Mama.

  What style, what colour would soothe your soul, Mama? Mirabel asked. But the misty silence around her would suffer no interruption.

  Mama, looking distressed, disappeared into the mist. Mirabel tried to follow but the rocky path kept shifting away from under her feet. She found she had come to a pool, deep and black and peaceful. She looked within it, and realised that time had slowed, and as it did, she gradually became the pool, and time stopped.

  Then a faint light like the early dawn grew and grew, until it was a pure white luminescence. And there she was, her mother, standing on the other side, waiting for her. The mist had dissipated. She looked beautiful in a powdery grey dress. It had a square neck with small black buttons down to the waist, a narrow skirt and a matching jacket trimmed with tiny black beads that had the lustre of precious pearls.

  Her mother smiled. It was the smile of a woman made whole. They had found the dress.

  Mirabel opened her eyes, still feeling Mama beside her. She looked down at the white page under her fingertips, a page inviting the lines that would become the dress of healing.

  Sandalwood

  Mirabel led Mama out through the doors of her bedroom onto the balcony that overlooked the street. Sunlight filtering through the branches of the elm tree warmed their faces. Mirabel recalled the day she had returned home to see a suitcase full of clothing sailing over that balcony. How much had changed since then!

  They sat down in two wicker chairs. Mirabel held Bao Bao on her knee.

  ‘I have to go away,’ Mirabel said quietly.

  Mama was silent, but her face gave an almost imperceptible spasm. Mirabel feared to go on, yet now that she had started it was too late to stop. ‘I am going to China to find Jin Jing. It’s killing me staying here …’ her voice trailed off, waiting for Mama’s reaction.

  Mama picked up a sandalwood fan, opened it, then closed it. The sweet scent of the wood filled the small balcony. She cast a longing glance at her grandchild. ‘I’ve dreaded this moment,’ she said. ‘But I always knew you would make this decision.’

  Mirabel looked at Mama, stunned.

  ‘It is true that I will hate to see you go, but you cannot stay here locked up in this house like a prisoner. It is a life not worthy of you or Bao Bao. I also know that if you do not go to him, your soul will be tormented forever.’ She looked away, closed her eyes for a moment as if in pain, then said, ‘Jin Jing is a good man, Lei An.’

  ‘But what about you, Mama?’

  Mama ran her hand over Bao Bao’s head, smoothing down his fine hair. ‘Don’t you worry about me. I have your father and Jimmy. And Lola, of course, for better or for worse.’ She looked up with tired eyes at Mirabel. ‘And what are your plans?’

  Now that it was out, Mirabel told Mama how she was leaving on the SS Taiping and that she had a place to stay with Rose’s uncle and aunt while she waited for JJ to return from his village. Perhaps Mama could come and visit when they were all settled in.

  Mama smiled at this, nodding her head. ‘And when does the boat depart?’

  This was the piece of news Mirabel had left until last. ‘Next Friday, Mama.’

  Alarm and consternation struggled on Mama’s face. ‘So soon, Lei An?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but it was the only ticket available. It’s the first boat out since the end of the war and there isn’t another one for months.’

  Mama picked up Bao Bao’s hand and, holding it, ran her thumb over his soft skin. A tear glistened in her eye. ‘Take Bao Bao for a moment. I have something for you.’

  She returned, carrying a small embroidered pouch. ‘My mother, your por por, gave this to me before I left our village. Now I would like you to have it.’ She placed it in Mirabel’s palm. It was a piece of bright-green jade on a gold chain, carved into the shape of a peach.

  ‘It’s beautiful, Mama. Can you put it on for me?’ Mirabel twisted around, pulling her hair away from her neck so that the chain could be fastened. Bao Bao’s inquisitive little hand shot out to grab the piece of jade, but Mirabel lifted him up and turned him around to face the street. ‘My worst fear is telling Father,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t worry about Father. I will tell him when the time is right.’

  The Dress and the Letter

  Mirabel had so much to do in the days leading up to her departure that she didn’t have time to get excited. Lola gave her a three-page list of things she wanted Mirabel to buy in Shanghai – silk stockings, shoes, perfume, clothes.

  Mama advised her on taking only the essentials in two large suitcases, and a small overnight case for her precious things. She could buy anything else she wanted when she arrived. She never found out what Mama said to Father but he seemed even more withdrawn than before.

  The night before Mirabel was to set sail, she took the dress of healing from her wardrobe and carried it to Mama’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door.

  ‘Mama. Can I come in?’

  Mama was sitting at her dressing table applying make-up, her hair in curlers.

  ‘I have a new dress for you, Mama.’ Mirabel held it up for her mother to see. ‘Will you wear it tonight on this special occasion?’

  Mama stood up, a powder puff in her hand. She stared at the dress, her eyes wandering over every detail. Her mout
h opened as if she was about to speak, but no words passed her lips. Then she smiled. ‘It is beautiful, Lei An.’

  Her hand reached out to touch the fabric, to straighten a fold, to run her finger around the satin neckline.

  ‘I’ll do your hair first, then you can try it on,’ Mirabel said, hooking the coathanger over the top of the wardrobe door.

  Mirabel released Mama’s hair from the rollers and it fell in bouncy curls on her shoulders. She brushed it gently. Then Mama stood up while Mirabel unbuttoned the new dress and slipped it carefully over her head, holding the jacket out for her to put her arms through.

  ‘I bought you a new pair of shoes,’ Mirabel said, taking the lid off a shoebox. The shoes were black with a small heel and a bar of black beads across the top. Mama stepped into one, then the other. She stood tall, the same height as Mirabel.

  ‘You look beautiful, Mama.’ Tears welled in Mirabel’s eyes.

  Mama turned to face the oval mirror and stared at herself. ‘Is that me?’ she asked, then smiled and touched the mirror. She cocked her head to one side.

  Mirabel saw a change come over Mama. She saw it in the way Mama smiled, in the way she held her chin, the way her eyes filled with light. It was as though she was truly seeing herself for the first time. The dress seemed to bring out an innate beauty that had been hidden under layers of self-loathing. It was as if the two parts of herself, Dan Dan and Ai Ling, had stopped their fighting, had become one. The dress seemed to bring forth the combined beauty of both the girls’ souls.

  Mama nodded. ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘Then shall we go down to dinner?’

  Mama walked down the stairs, her head held high, eyes bright. With each step Mirabel took, the soothsayer’s prophecy rang in her ears.

  Dressing the dead.

  It had come true at last.

  There was an audible intake of breath as Mama entered the kitchen. Jimmy slipped from his chair and put his arms around her as if he was making up for a million lost hugs. Father took her hand and led her to the table to sit beside Great Auntie May, who glanced from Mama to Mirabel and back again, beaming. Rose squeezed Mirabel’s hand. Not one person in the room that night could believe it, yet they knew that Mama was well. And, more importantly, Mama knew it too.

  ‘Welcome home, Mama,’ Mirabel whispered.

  Rose sat next to Mirabel as they ate dinner. As inquisitive as ever, Jimmy asked about China, about Shanghai. Was it rich or poor? Did they play footy? And Lola, being Lola, talked about herself. But every now and then Mirabel glanced across at Mama, who sat proud as a queen at the head of the table.

  At the end of the meal, when there was a lull in the conversation, Father reached inside his suit pocket and pulled out a letter folded in two. Mirabel could tell the letter held great importance, otherwise he would not have brought it out in front of everyone. It was written on a single sheet of paper, translucent as a cicada’s wing. The Chinese characters were wobbly and blotched. Father handed it to Mama as if he were handing her a gift.

  She looked at him, then opened the letter and read it. Her face relaxed as she read it again and again, then she began to cry silent tears of joy. Great Auntie May took the letter and passed it to Mirabel.

  ‘Come on, what does it say?’ Lola prodded.

  ‘It is from Chen Su Ting,’ Mirabel said softly. ‘He says he is going back to China to live out the rest of his days and we will never hear from him again.’ She looked up at Mama and smiled.

  Finally, it was all over.

  Rose and Mirabel hugged quickly at the front door, not wanting to prolong the agony of their goodbye. They wanted to pretend that it was just like any other visit, but the heaviness in their hearts made it only too real.

  ‘You are brave, Belle,’ Rose said. ‘The bravest person I know.’

  ‘We’ll see each other soon, okay?’

  Mirabel hugged her once more and Rose quickly walked away.

  Mirabel thought she would be happy and excited on this, the eve of her departure, for it meant that tomorrow she would be sailing for Shanghai. It meant that she would be closer to JJ. But even though it had not been much of a life recently, the thought of leaving her family filled her with sadness. It was the unknown that she was afraid of now. She wiped her tears before going back inside.

  The next few hours would be the hardest. But once she was on the boat she would be facing the future and there would be no looking back.

  The Last Wave

  STATION PIER

  DECEMBER 1946

  Locked in her own thoughts, Mirabel stared out of the window as Father drove the family to Port Melbourne, where the SS Taiping was docked. The sky was low, the weather windy and hot.

  She watched a lone seagull hover, dip its wing, then turn and head out to sea.

  Bao Bao sat on her lap, bouncing up and down. He sensed the tension and excitement of the morning. Mirabel kissed the top of his head. It was the first time since she had made her plan to go to Shanghai that she felt real fear. Even though she might have a place to stay with Rose’s aunt and uncle, JJ did not know she was coming. She didn’t even know where he was – just that he was in a village somewhere near Shanghai. Frank Shen’s words about the danger from Communists in the countryside kept threatening to surface in her mind. She resolutely pushed them away. She had sent a letter to JJ’s army headquarters in the vain hope that someone might pass it on to him. But he had left the army now. And Frank Shen was not going back. Her only lead was JJ’s brother, Jin Yu – if she could find him.

  As they drove along the beach road, Mirabel caught sight of the ship she was to sail on.

  ‘It’s not very big!’ Jimmy said, sounding disappointed. ‘And it looks really old.’

  Lola shushed him, glancing at Mirabel.

  But Mirabel was thinking the same thing. Could it survive four weeks at sea? There were two decks and a single funnel from which billowed clouds of dark grey smoke. She had heard that it was built as a passenger ship, then converted to a refugee carrier during the war, and that it had nearly sunk several times. She hoped it would survive one more voyage and get them to Shanghai safely.

  Father parked the car. He hadn’t said a word since they had left home. Tentatively, Mirabel put a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Thank you, Father,’ she said.

  He remained motionless, staring straight ahead, his hands on the steering wheel. She had no idea what he was thinking.

  ‘I hate this weather,’ Lola yelled, as she climbed out of the car and fought with the hot wind to close the door. ‘I’m going to buy some streamers.’

  She headed off in the direction of the kiosk.

  Father’s foreman tooted the horn at them. He had Mirabel’s two suitcases on the back of the market truck. She waved and pointed and soon they were unloaded onto a trolley and taken away.

  In the waiting room, Mirabel sat with Mama while Lola and Jimmy went outside to look around. Jimmy wanted to see the ship close up, and Lola had her eye on the sailors standing by the gangplank. Every now and then, Mirabel glanced over at the carpark where they had left Father sitting in the car.

  ‘He loves you,’ Mama said, reading her thoughts.

  ‘I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye,’ Mirabel said.

  Mama began dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and hugging Bao Bao, who was sitting on her lap. Mirabel turned away. If she started crying she would never be able to stop.

  ‘That ship is full of rust,’ cried Jimmy, running back in. ‘Do you think it will make it all the way to China?’

  Some of the people in the waiting room turned to look at him.

  Mirabel tried to smile but a chill struck her. The third line of the prophecy. Lost on the sea. ‘Shhh …’ she said. ‘Come and sit down, Jimmy.’ Her voice softened. ‘Do you want to hold Bao Bao?’

  Jimmy sat down with his arms open. ‘You like your Uncle Jimmy, don’t you?’ he said, his voice raised a notch as he talked gently to the baby.

 
; At last the call to go aboard was announced. Jimmy held Mirabel’s hand, tears running down his cheeks. Lola stood on the wharf, one hand on her hip, tilting her head coquettishly. She had found an officer to make eyes at.

  Mirabel hugged each member of her family in turn, leaving Mama till last. Bao Bao, squashed between their arms, rested his head on Mama’s shoulder as if he sensed the moment of farewell, and Mama kissed his head.

  The ship’s horn blasted, and before she knew it Mirabel was being ushered up the gangway, Bao Bao on her hip and the small suitcase containing all the things that were dear to her in her hand. Precious things, like her painting books and the oracle bone. She walked along the first deck until she found an empty place at the railing and put her bag on the floor.

  Jimmy threw a yellow streamer. As it uncoiled towards her, Mirabel reached out to grab it, but it fell short and landed in the water between the dock and the ship. Then Lola threw up a blue one and a green one. The man beside Mirabel caught it for her, and handed her the ends. She smiled a thank you. Lola kept throwing more and more streamers – in the end it didn’t matter whose streamers you were holding, as long as there was a link with the land.

  Streamers crisscrossed the space above the water between the wharf and the ship’s deck – hundreds of them blowing in the wind like a giant hammock.

  The engines roared. Water poured out of a hole on the side of the boat. There was a cheer and, with one long blow of the horn, the SS Taiping pulled away from dock.

  Mirabel held Bao Bao up so that her family could see him. His little hand gripped her finger. Then, through a veil of tears, she saw a figure standing alone at the back of the crowd. He was very still at first, then he lifted his hand.