by Lucy Yam
The warmth of the water had dissipated with the vanishing sun. She shivered as soon as she plunged in but she was so anxious to get away that she had no time to hesitate. Instead she swam as fast as she could to generate heat. Not until the moment she got into the openness of the lake she stopped shivering and all of a sudden the remembrance of Nobul rushed back into her mind. The words he had said to her rang in her ears, in the midst of the splashing water: I know how to make love, though I don’t believe in love! She moved her limps frantically as if to force out the sensation that he had planted in her skin earlier.
Soon dusk turned into night and there was nothing but blackness around her. She could no longer discern any of her surroundings. The outline of the distant mountains and the shape of the islands were all devoured by night. Then she was aware of some faintly twinkling lights but they seemed so far away. Only then she had a second thought – why was she doing this? She was acting on impulse, like an immature child. What made her think that she could swim back to the hotel? The last time she had swum in the ocean was in college. And she had never swum at night. What if something happened to her? How would Charlene feel? And what about Nobul? He would feel sorry, wouldn’t he? Ah, was it why she was doing it? To make him feel sorry? The thought made her angry and she hated herself for it. Why couldn’t she shrug off his sarcastic remarks? Why was she so affected by his words?
She felt a dense cluster of algae under her and guessed that water had gotten shallower. Then she hit a rock and got to a shore. It might be one of the uninhabited islands. As she got closer something stung her leg and she screamed with pain. She climbed up and sat on a rock. Something warm and sticky was oozing out in a tiny stream. It was blood. What the hell was that? She thought in despair. Snake? About then she heard the faint rumbling of motors coming from behind her. Realizing that it might be Nobul looking for her she jumped up with joy – but felt back instantly. She wouldn’t let him see her like this. She wouldn’t give him a chance to deride her. No, she would rather spend a night here than letting him take her back into that island like a helpless kitten. She went behind a bush and waited for the boat to pass. It did a moment later and she clenched her fists in order not to shout.
When the sound of motor went farther she suddenly got an idea: she should follow the boat for he was likely going towards the hotel. She plunged into the water again and swam towards the light of the boat. The pain on her leg was excruciating at first but she ignored it. The boat wasn’t going too fast so she was able to follow it while keeping a safe distance. She was relaxing and celebrating her clever idea when her feet were caught by some kind of fish net. She cursed as she went underwater to disentangle herself. When she finally freed herself of that she had lost sight of the boat.
“Damn!” she cursed loudly, even though no one would hear her.
Now what? Again she hated Nobul. For he was responsible for her foolish act. He had led her on and abandoned her, again.
It was now blackness completely. Of all nights, tonight should be starless, moonless! She cursed and had a moment’s despair. But soon she dispelled her negative feelings, turned on her back to relax. She wasn’t about to become a water nymph, she told herself. And she was sure that the water spirit, whatever it was, wouldn’t dare to bother someone who could swim so well.
She floated on her back most of the time, doing some strokes only when her body got chilled or she got tempted to doze off. The pain on her leg was unbearable at one point and she passed out. In a trance she heard the sound of the motor again. It came closer and closer to her but it was far again. She wanted to shout but was too tired.
There was a long confusion that followed. She heard the sound of motor again and a man shouting her name. Snow… Sharon… his voice was comforting… Then she was in a cradled of warm water and her body was limp… She wasn’t floating anymore but something firm was holding her. The material against her body was smooth and sensual. And there was a scent, a familiar smoky pine around her, got stronger each time with the rhythmic breathing of a man. And then she blacked out.
Nobul placed the wet body on the deck. Thank Goddess she was alive although unconscious. Her pulse was weak and her breathing was fading away. He slapped her face hard in order to arouse her. But she wouldn’t stir. He took off his shirt and wrapped her in it. He held her tightly in his arm, warming her with his body temperature. Then he set the speed of the boat to maximum. He jumped onto the shore carrying her as soon as the boat moored.
While running to the house he called Urcher, who was searching for Sharon in another boat, and told him that he had found her.
Panting, he kicked opened the bedroom door, and carried her all the way to the bathroom. Holding her, he turned on the hot water faucet. Before the tub was half-filled he put her in and watched the color of her skin slowly turned from a pale blue to white and pink. When her pulse had returned to normal he thought quickly how he would remove those wet rags clinging to her tightly. He got a pair of scissors and came back. Slipping his hand under the wet fabric to protect her skin, he carefully ran the scissors through. As soon as the last threat broke, the fabric fell to the sides, revealing her small but firm breasts. The sight of them made him hard. His hands froze above the pink crests before he moved on to peel away the ripped tank top. What was the point to touch her, when she wouldn’t feel it?
Hidden under the panties was the dark triangle of forests and the fountain of pleasure. Nobul took a deep breath as he wondered how many men had seen it and drunk from it. She had invited him there only a couple days ago and he could have explored it, if he hadn’t had that stupid second thought. His rejection must have hurt her. It must have been why she had acted so contemptuously during the day. He sighed and stood up.
While letting her soak in the tub he went out to make fire in the hearth so the room would be warm once he carried her in it.
Nobul carried Sharon out of the water, wrapped her in a big towel, and laid her in bed. She groaned as he accidentally touched her leg while unrolling her from the towel. What’s wrong? He looked at her leg and saw the punctures in a circle of red. Heavens! She had been bitten by a snake. That could have been the real reason for her exhaustion. The snakes in the lake weren’t poisonous but she had perhaps lost some blood during her swim. She wasn’t bleeding now but her leg was swollen. His heart wrung as he imagined the pain she had gone through. All because of his foolish mouth! He hit his head with his fist and called his brother again, asking him to bring herbs.
Nobul covered Sharon with a layer of silk comforter and a thick wool blanket. Then he promised Goddess Gemu he would never hurt his Snow again and he would be her slave if only she recovered.
Chapter 9
The moment Sharon opened her eyes she saw streaks of sunshine floating above her, then through them, the embroidery patterns on a silk canopy. Where was she? She looked through the thin gauze surrounding her. It felt like a place she had visited not long ago. But she couldn’t remember where. Memory flashed through her foggy mind. She was swimming in cold water and got exhausted and her leg hurt… It must have been a nightmare. She sighed with relief just before she heard the steps coming over towards her.
A tall figure loomed over her by the bed. He lifted the light gauze and bent his head.
“Thank goddess, you’re awake.” It was Nobul. His hair tousled, his chin unshaven, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked ragged and attractive.
Sharon felt her heart pounding. He was in the nightmare. He was responsible for it. It wasn’t even a nightmare. It had actually happened. They had a fight and she acted on impulse. Then something went wrong. She got lost, got hurt, and passed out…He must have rescued her eventually. All of a sudden a mixture of emotions returned to her: anger, fear, longing… tears streamed down her face and she pulled up the blanket before she broke into a sob.
Nobul knelt on the floor and uncovered that beautiful face smeared with tear. Gently wiping the tears with his thumb, he muttered, “I’m sorry, Snow.
”
His gentle voice only made her cry harder. She wanted to stop crying like a baby. She wanted to thank him for saving her life. But she couldn’t. All she could do was to clutch his big hand.
“There, there, it’s all right now.” He kissed her forehead gently and stroked her head.
Finally she calmed down, and she whispered, “Thank you.”
He sighed as he closed his eyes. “I don’t deserve it.”
As if the thought made him shudder he clasped her shoulder tightly—not until then was she aware that she had nothing on under the silk comforter. She panicked and shrank deeper into the cover. The movement caused a piercing pain radiating from her leg. “Ouch!”
“Don’t move.” He said quickly, “You’ve got a snake bite.”
“A snake-bite?” Her voice trembled as she remembered the moment of the excruciating pain.
“Yes, but don’t worry. It isn’t poisonous. It’s swelling and your movement will exacerbate the pain.”
“Swelling?” Sharon sighed. Again she had to expose her wounds to this man!
“Don’t worry,” he said gently, “I’ve applied herbs to it and the swell should be eased soon.”
And again she let him play nurse on her. The thought of him rubbing herb on her while she lay unconsciously naked made her blood boil.
“Where are my, uh, clothes?” she stammered.
“You mean your swimsuit?” Teasing lights flickered in his eyes as he emphasized the last word.
Her cheeks flamed as she remembered that she was swimming in her underwear.
“I had to cut them open to remove them.”
“Oh god.” She would rather not to imagine the details. “Uh, what about, my, my dress? I put it on the shore.”
He thought for a moment and said, “I threw it into the lake.”
“No you didn’t!” she exclaimed, “Why would you do that?”
“Why?” suddenly his eyes darkened as if she had touched a sore spot. “You don’t have any idea what disaster your foolish action had caused, do you?”
She felt guilty but nonetheless retorted, “Don’t forget you played a part in it too. If you hadn’t said those horrible things to me, I wouldn’t…” His expression changed somehow, but not softer. There was pain in his eyes as he was undoubtedly reminded what had happened before their argument. His jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back his tongue. Sharon clutched at the comforter and waited for his tirade of words.
“I waited for you in the yard, hoping you would come up. But after awhile I lost my patience and went to the boat. But there wasn’t a trace of you. Then I saw your footprints on the sand and followed them. When I found your dress in the bush I was devastated. I couldn’t believe you would do that. Swim back? No Moso would do that unless he was drunk. You didn’t even have any idea how far it was. And it was getting dark! Throwing your gown into the lake was the sanest thing I could do to ease my fury. I was going mad when I found no trace of you in the lake. I thought you were dead and I almost collapsed when I got to Shangri-la. My brother told me not to give up yet and he got on another boat to look for you. I thought you were dead when I saw you floating… Oh it was awful!” He buried his face into the comforter.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He took her hand in his, kissed it and pressed it on his cheek.
“Good. It’s soft and warm. The moment I got you, you were cold and stiff like a dead fish.” He checked her temperature everywhere from her cheek to her feet. “And the moment when I dumped you in the bathtub you were blue.”
“You, you bathed me?” Sharon’s voice quivered.
“No, I soaked you in hot water.” He smiled mischievously, “and messaged you a bit.”
“Oh no.” Sharon’s hid her burning cheeks under the silk cover.
“Don’t worry,” he laughed, “it was very much like, washing a…rubber doll.”
Except it wasn’t. Goddess only knew what a hard time she had given him, with her unresponsive body under his palm.
“You!” Sharon uncovered her face and shouted. But she was lost in words. Only after a moment she managed to ask, “Was, uh, Urcher here too?”
“No, he didn’t come until much later. And he didn’t come in here.”
Thank goodness. She thought. But what about Charlene? “What about my sister… you didn’t tell her, did you?”
“No. we didn’t want to worry her.”
She exhaled with relief.
He went out and came back with a cup of hot tea.
“Drink it.” He urged her.
In order to drink it she would have to get up. She couldn’t, knowing that she was naked under the sheet.
“Uh, I need to wear something,” she entreated.
“No you don’t. I’ve seen everything already. Seeing it again won’t make much difference, will it?”
“You incorrigible flirt.” She mumbled as she sat up reluctantly, clutching the sheet in hand, carefully hiding her breasts behind it while taking the cup from Nobul.
All the while she was conscious of the exposure of her bare back. Nobul wrapped the quilt around her, and steadied her as she drank. The warmth of his palm through the quilt mingled with the heat roused by the hot liquid.
He put the cup on the night table and went out again. When he was back he brought her a man’s t-shirt and pajama pants.
“Put these on. Urcher would come later with your clothes. I’m going to make us some breakfast.”
Her stomach rumbled at the word breakfast. She was hungry.
When she was alone again she put the t-shirt under her nose and inhaled slowly. It was his scent blended with soap. The smoky pine roused a warm rush under her skin. She put it on quickly and felt the caress of the soft cotton on her breasts, her body trembled with excitement. Disturbed by the reaction of her body, she closed her eyes and tried to calm down. She had to get away from him before she lost control utterly. Yet she felt the vagueness of that resolution the moment she had thought of it. Her last attempts all failed miserably and each time she only gravitated closer towards him. Now, with her swollen leg, it looked like she would have to stay under his eyelids, in this room, on this island for at least a day more. How was she going to resist those flickers in his eyes that threatened to ignite her any minute, the powerful scent of his chieftain body that could intoxicate her with a tiny dose, and those burning lips that could melt her with a mere brush?
Helplessly Sharon lay down again. The bed was spacious. She stared at the beautiful embroidery on the canopy ceiling. In the center was a pair of mandarin ducks among lotus flowers. Sharon recalled that mandarin ducks were symbols for romantic love in Chinese culture and it was common to see this pattern on the beddings. The smaller pictures in the four corners of the canopy ceiling all have the same love theme: a butterfly kissing the crimson folds of an orchid blossom or a bee drinking from the tube of a trumpet flower. Did the Empress embroider it herself? Sharon wondered. Nobul was right. The Empress was romantic. She couldn’t help but imagine the two lovers lying underneath these suggestive pictures making love to each other. What about the chief? How was he like? Of course he was no less romantic than the Empress. He fell in love with her picture. Was he a gentle lover? Or was he as arrogant as Nobul? The thought of Nobul disturbed her. Soon he would come up with a tray of food, she supposed. And he might even insist to spoon-feed her as if she was an invalid. As if! She thought with indignation. He had started the whole ordeal, now she was at his mercy, like a captured animal. Just why was she lying here daydreaming? She wasn’t sleepy or tired anymore. One moment longer in this silky confinement and she would go mad. She had to get up do something. She tried to come up with some activity that she could handle, but the only thing she could think of was to go to the bathroom.
Better than nothing. She struggled out of bed. The movement caused a sharp pain on her leg and she had to pause on the edge of the bed. Holding on the panel of the bed she slowly stood up. Ignoring the pain she inched
forward to the bathroom, while holding on to the nearest furniture. It was but steps away but somehow it seemed like miles, especially she had to zigzag her way as she was relying on the support of the furniture.
She was pressing on the mahogany vanity table top when she caught her own reflection in the mirror. God! She looked like a zombie. The plateau sun that gave Charlene a healthy tan had no effect on her and she looked disgustingly pale. There were dark circles around her eyes. And her hair! It was all tangled and lackluster. As she looked closer she even found specks of white petals, which were probably from the algae in the lake. Gross! Imagine that Nobul had seen her like this! And did he really bathe her? Frantically she opened the drawers in search of a comb. But the drawers were all empty.
“What’re you doing?” the door opened and Nobul was standing in the frame.
“Uh,” she felt embarrassed, what did it look like she was doing? Not finding a better answer she mumbled the truth, “I’m looking for a comb.”
“Oh,” he stepped in and held her shoulders examined her closely for awhile, then grinned, “I can see why.”
Insulted by that comment, she glared at him and asked, “Why didn’t you wash my hair?”
“Oh, I didn’t think it necessary. But I don’t mind it.” He said softly, “I like that languid look on a woman.”
“It isn’t a languid look. It’s a horrid look. Give me a comb!” she demanded, seeing his raised eyebrow, she added, “please?”
He chuckled, “Well, there isn’t any comb around. You’re the first woman who’s slept here in the past fifty years.”
She looked dejected. Running her hand through her hair she tried to disentangle some strands with frustration. He held her wrist and stopped her.
“Allow me!” he said gently.
Touched by his eager look, Sharon let him place her hand on the table and waited.
He got hold of that strand and patiently sorted out the tangle. Then he ran his hand through her hair to smooth it while picking up other tangled strands. He repeated the process with great care, making sure he didn’t pull her hair too hard. Sharon was embarrassed at first by the intimacy. She was standing between him and the table and her back brushed constantly against his chest. The heat of his body simmered through the two layers of cotton. She felt his warm breath teasing her ears and her nape. Besides the physical closeness, the act itself also astonished her. He was doing her hair! It very much reminded her when she and Charlene were little. They would play with each other’s hair for fun. Hair was a sacred part of her body and she had never let a man touch her hair like that. Her hairdressers were always women. And now she had thrown her principles into a wastebasket. Worse, she enjoyed it! The man standing behind her was arrogant and demanding, a patriarch in a matrilineal world. He was a head taller than herself and a shoulder wider. With his big hands and thick fingers he could easily throttle her. And yet, he was bending toward her and smoothing her hair? The image pleased her so much that she could hardly suppress a curl of her lips.