by Li, Veronica
"Hok-Ching had always been a sensitive child," Ah Yi said, her throat tight with emotions.
"I remember clearly Father’s kidnapping," Hok-Ching said. "During those days, the curtains were always drawn because we didn’t want the kidnappers to watch us. We were told to stay away from the windows. But when the grown-ups weren’t around, I peeked out and tried to figure out which one of the people on the street was the kidnapper."
Lo Bak gazed fondly at Hok-Ching. After having spent so many weekends with the family, I was beginning to notice the intricacies in the relationships. Of his wives, Lo Bak was closer to Ah Yi, the younger sister. Whenever she cooked a dish, he would praise it to the skies. After dinner, the two often sat down to a game of Chinese checkers. I’d never seen him play like that with Ah Ma, who didn’t seem to mind. If she were jealous, she didn’t show it. She was very kind to me, although she had no reason to be; my association was with Ah Yi’s sons. Of Lo Bak’s children, I couldn’t judge who was the favorite because I hadn’t met them all. However, I’d overheard some relatives discuss the subject. The general consensus was that Hok-Ching was the one. I supposed it made sense, because Hok-Ching was the eldest son of the preferred wife.
"Flora, what are you doing for the holidays?" Ah Ma said.
Ah Yi didn’t give me a chance to answer. "Why don’t you come up to WongMountain with us tonight?" she said. "Hok-Ching, didn’t you borrow your friend’s gramophone? You young people can have a dance party."
I looked at Sam-Koo. The next day was a holiday, and I was loath to leave her alone with Yolanda.
"You go on. The landlady has invited me to play mahjong," Sam-Koo said, reading my mind.
"So it’s settled," Ah Ma said to me. "You’ll ride up with us tonight."
"Oh, but I don’t have a change of clothes."
"Why don’t we do this," Ah Yi said. "You go home and pack. Hok-Ching will spend the night in town, and tomorrow morning he’ll escort you to WongMountain. There are sedan chairs for hire at the foot of the mountain, and Hok-Ching can rent a horse to ride along with you."
"That sounds like so much trouble for everyone," I said weakly.
"No trouble at all," Hok-Ching said. "I can sleep over at Commercial Press."
"Good," Lo Bak’s voice boomed. "I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch."
3
On Chinese New Year’s Day, two coolies carried me in a sedan up the hundreds of steps on WongMountain. Trotting alongside was my gallant knight on horseback. Little did I realize that the moment I alighted from my sedan, I would be stepping into a trap that would snare me for life.
Long before I had an inkling of the forces at work, Lo Bak had decided that I would marry his son. Between his peace talks to bring about communist-nationalist cooperation, his conferences at the National Assembly, and his efforts to introduce "scientific management" to Commercial Press, he was a busy matchmaker. After my first visit to WongMountain, he’d written Hok-Ching to come home. He then sent Wai-Jing to lure me to WongMountain on the pretense of needing a typist for his manuscript. Everybody else was in on the scheme—Ah Ma, Ah Yi, Hok-Jit, Hok-Yi, and most probably the servants too.
Unbeknownst to me then, Hok-Ching had a history of falling for women of ill repute. His first love was a ravishing Shanghainese who, Lo Bak learned through his connections, had already been claimed by a wealthy man. Hok-Ching was only a toy for her entertainment whenever her sugar daddy was away. Lo Bak managed to break up the relationship. Hok-Ching’s second girlfriend was the bridesmaid at his eldest brother’s wedding. Hok-Ching was the best man, and so it naturally came to pass that they started dating after the wedding. Lo Bak investigated her background and uncovered some unsavory information about this woman’s past. He was eager to put an end to the relationship, but knew that a direct confrontation would backfire. When I stumbled on the scene, Lo Bak hit on me as the solution. I was presentable in appearance, had a meek personality and a clean record, and most importantly, I was a graduate of Hong KongUniversity. To a man of letters like Lo Bak, a diploma from a reputable institution was more valuable than any dowry. He picked up his brush and started writing my destiny.
I might not have seen clearly into Lo Bak’s heart at the beginning of my stay, but I would have been mentally retarded if I didn’t by the end. Throughout the holidays, everyone in the family contrived romantic opportunities for Hok-Ching and me. The smiles, the messages in the eyes, the layers of meaning under the seemingly innocent bantering, the whispering that stopped the moment I appeared—all made it clear that the Wangs were stepping up their campaign.
Knowing what I knew, I couldn’t pretend to go on as before. A momentous decision faced me. If I had no interest in the man, the right thing to do was to cut off the friendship. But just the thought of doing that pained me. My social life in Chungking had been built around this group of people. Severing ties with Hok-Ching meant doing the same to his entire family, including Wai-Jing. I pondered the other possibility—marrying Hok-Ching. His family background was impeccable; in fact, I couldn’t ask for a more prestigious family to marry into. His personality was also desirable, having enjoyed his lavish attention and witnessed his kindness to even the lowliest servant. His education level was below my standard, but once he got his master’s from London, he would be better qualified than most university chancellors in China. Last but not least, I had to consider his physical appearance, for I couldn’t imagine myself marrying a man I wasn’t attracted to. Overall he was quite acceptable, and I’d been gradually coming to terms with his major shortcoming, his height.
After weighing all these factors, even the two years of separation didn’t look so bad. Hok-Ching was also different from Yang. With my former boyfriend, I only had his word to go on, but with Hok-Ching, I had the rock-solid honor of Lo Bak for support. He would never allow his son to cause him to lose face.
My turn to express interest had arrived. Without a mother to bring Hok-Ching to meet, I took him to the Hong KongUniversity alumni ball instead. Shouts of "Hey, Flora," rang out as I walked into the hall with my escort. A flood of emotions came over me. These people were my family away from home. We shared the experience of growing up in Hong Kong, a pearl cultured in the confluence of two great civilizations, East and West. On the outside we might look the same as other Chinese, but inside we knew we were different.
Rushing up to greet me were my four valiant bodyguards on my trek to Chungking. They looked spiffy in their rental tuxedos, a huge improvement from the last time I saw them. Their behavior, however, hadn’t improved much.
"Good dog, no see," Peter quipped. The Cantonese ho gau could mean either "good dog" or "long time." His cheeky manner clearly pointed to the former. "You made a new friend and didn’t even notify us?"
Ignoring his sauciness, I proudly presented Hok-Ching. It was tempting to mention who his father was, but such blatant name-dropping wasn’t my style. Besides, Yolanda was there too. She was already trumpeting Lo Bak’s name.
Strains of the Blue Danube drifted from a gramophone. Peter gave me a ninety-degree bow and said, "May I have the honor of this dance, Mademoiselle?"
I looked at Hok-Ching, who smiled back with good humor. Assured that my escort wouldn’t mind, I walked with Peter to the dance floor. The moment Peter put his hand on my waist, my elbow sprang out to create a safety zone. I’d started doing this ever since a partner had hugged me so close that I could feel the contents in his pocket. He had been carrying a hard object, and throughout the dance I was trying to figure out what it could be.
While Peter twirled me around, I was on the lookout for Hok-Ching. I caught a glimpse of him talking to Yolanda, which put me at ease. At least there was one person he knew. I tried to extricate myself to get back to him, but my classmates kept passing me from one to another. After the sixth or seventh dance, Hok-Ching had all but disappeared.
I finally managed to pull away from the dance floor, only to find myself ringed by another group of young men. Suddenly a hand sliced
apart the chain of bodies. Hok-Ching jumped into the middle of the circle and grabbed my hand. He gave me a yank and I went flying onto the dance floor.
Our courtship accelerated after that night. My initiative to introduce Hok-Ching to my people was the signal he needed. He quit his job at the college and moved into the dorm of Commercial Press. With two months left before his departure for England, he was determined to make full use of every minute. Hardly a day went by without our seeing each other. On weekdays, he would be waiting for me at the gate of the British embassy; on weekends, we would ride up with Lo Bak to WongMountain.
Hok-Ching proposed to me in the rose garden. I’d guessed what was coming when he held my hand and looked at me with his large, sentimental eyes. Well, I won’t go into details. Everybody has intimate moments that she wants to keep to herself. Suffice it to say that Hok-Ching asked me to marry him, and I agreed.
Hok-Ching ran upstairs to tell his father the good news. Lo Bak summoned me to his room. The smell of books in his study had always filled me with awe, and today it was particularly overwhelming. Lo Bak sat in an easy chair, his presence filling the entire space. His eyes were bright with merriment, and already I could hear his boisterous laugh. He indicated a seat to me. I sat down, and Hok-Ching came to stand by my side.
"Hok-Ching told me the good news," Lo Bak said. "Ha, ha, ha, I am very happy. I cannot think of a more ideal daughter-in-law."
I lowered my face to hide the flush. Hok-Ching put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"As you know, Hok-Ching is leaving next month for graduate studies in England. But if two hearts are willing, they can abide the two years. I’ve worked very hard to get him into this prestigious institution in England. Completion of this program will make him one of the first education experts in China. There will be no limit to his future. Therefore, I would not like to see him distracted from his studies in any way."
I looked up at Lo Bak. Sternness had replaced the mirth in his eyes.
"Hok-Ching says he wants to get married before he leaves for England. I don’t think it’s a good idea. A married man will be subject to distractions. His heart will be with his family, not in his studies. I have a suggestion to make."
I felt Hok-Ching wriggle beside me. Lo Bak stilled his son with a sharp glance and said, "Why don’t you two get engaged before Hok-Ching leaves? I will throw a party for our friends and relatives. When Hok-Ching finishes his studies, that will be the time for him to come home and get married." In more somber tones he added, "I trust the war will be over by then."
Hok-Ching and I dipped our heads in compliance. Of course, Lo Bak’s suggestion was more than just a suggestion. In such an important matter as marriage, parents had the final say.
"Very good, then. Ha, ha, ha! We will have an engagement party next week. As a token of my blessing, I would like to give you a little present. Wait here! I’ll be back." Lo Bak jumped to his feet and bustled out of the room.
He returned with his two wives in tow. Ah Ma and Ah Yi showered good wishes on us. Lo Bak presented me with a watch, a delicate Omega with a face so small that it could hold only four markings, one for each quarter hour. The gold band was as pretty as a bracelet.
"This watch belongs to Ah Yi. I would like you to wear it now."
"Thank you so much, Lo Bak."
"He’s not Lo Bak anymore," Ah Yi said. "You should call him Baba."
I blushed to the tips of my ears. "Baba" is one of the first sounds made by a baby, yet I had no recollection of ever babbling that word. As I smacked my lips together, I felt I was just learning to speak. Indeed, this was the first time that I was conscious of calling anyone Baba. Tears gushed into my eyes and I had to make a heroic effort to keep them from falling. The orphan had finally found a home, and the relief was everything she’d imagined.
*
"You have no taste," Yolanda shouted at me. "I didn’t want him for myself. If I did, you would never have stood a chance."
Her remark punched me in the face. I’d danced into the room announcing my engagement. Instead of congratulations, I was getting insults. Not knowing what to say, I left the room on the pretense of going out to look for Sam-Koo.
I paced around the block, mulling over the unprovoked attack. How could Yolanda be so greedy? She already had a man of her own. How could she want another? Some of the gossip I’d overheard about Yolanda’s fiancé came back to me. I’d never met the man, but many of my Hong KongUniversity fellows had. They described him as a puny man with a puny brain who probably didn’t even have a high school diploma. He’d gotten the coveted training in America by wagging his tail and licking his master’s boots. In other words, Yolanda, the "Number One Under the Sky," was doomed to spend the rest of her life with a coarse, uneducated sycophant. She’d met him in Kweilin, where she’d taken a teaching job after fleeing Hong Kong. Lonely and frightened—didn’t I know the feeling!—she’d fallen for the first man who was kind to her. My heart went out to Yolanda. The war had turned her life topsy-turvy. Even if peace were restored soon, her future was ruined forever.
I went home, my heart full of forgiveness. But the moment I entered, Yolanda swung at me again, saying, "Don’t count on me to show up at your engagement party!" Apparently Yolanda wasn’t willing to forgive me for the insult she’d heaped on me. From that day on she seldom came home, and when she did, her face was always turned the other way. So much hostility in a small room was a strain, but necessity kept us together. Neither of us could afford to pay the full rent for the room.
Yolanda saved her biggest surprise for me until after Hok-Ching had left. Speaking to me for the first time in weeks, she told me she was moving out. The British embassy had offered her a room in its staff quarters. I was frantic. Rent was due in a few days. Without Yolanda’s contribution, I wouldn’t be able to send Ngai his allowance. He was studying at YenchingUniversity in Chengtu. While his scholarship covered most of his expenses, he needed a little extra to supplement the meager cafeteria diet. Without adequate nutrition he could suffer a relapse.
I went to Baba for help. He laughed when he saw that I was close to tears. To me, this was a matter of life and death, but to him, it was trivia. Pulling up his wide sleeve, he picked up his brush and wrote an order to his manager. A few days later, Sam-Koo and I settled comfortably in the Commercial Press dorm.
I also got a new job. In the accounting department of the U.S. Information Service, my monthly salary jumped four times to 200,000 yuan, or $100 in U.S. currency. Imagine my relief at not having to worry about money again. Until Hok-Ching came home, I would have no problem taking care of Ngai, Sam-Koo, and myself. Little could I guess that in less than two months the turn in world events would flip my life upside down once more.
On August 14, 1945, the Japanese surrendered. I knew it was coming, having read about the devastation of the two atomic bombs; yet when it did happen, I was beside myself with disbelief. Sleep was out of the question that night, partly because of my own excitement and partly because of the American GIs partying on the square just outside my room. Hundreds of them were dancing to loud music and shouting "Ding hao!" which means "very good." Tired of trying to sleep, I got out of bed around dawn to look out the window. The sight was eerie and funny at the same time. The soldiers were stumbling around like a troop of lost phantoms. They were all drunk by now, and a number lay flat out on the pavement. Right under my window I saw two people bump into each other. One was an American soldier, and the other was a Chinese man who came up to the American’s underarm. The Chinese apologized and swept his hand over the soldier as if to steady him. The American teetered away, oblivious to the fact that his wallet was gone. I don’t know how many Americans had their pockets picked that night, but what did it matter? The war was over. They were going home, and so was I.
The following weekend, Sam-Koo and I rode up with Baba to WongMountain. The sky had been pouring buckets for days, and there was no sign of it letting up. The Yangtze River was dangerously
close to its limits as we passed. Sam-Koo gazed out, her normally fearless eyes filled with anxiety. She clutched her Buddhist beads and moved her lips quickly in silent prayer. We were relieved to reach higher ground, but there another kind of hazard confronted us. The drive up the winding road was tricky at the best of times; now with sheets of water tumbling down the mountainside, it was impossible to see where the road began and where it ended. One slight misjudgment could spell disaster.
It took us four hours rather than the usual two to get to Baba’s house. The rain pounded on our umbrellas as we slogged up the dirt path. I could make out the twin figures of Ah Ma and Ah Yi standing on the front porch. They were waving and shouting something. I cocked my head to catch what they were saying. Fragments slipped through the downpour, echoing, overlapping: "The Japanese have surrendered, the Japanese have surrendered, the Japanese…" They were chanting the same phrase over and over again. It seemed as if we couldn’t repeat the news often enough.
"We’re going home!" I cried as soon as we got into the house.
"Let’s not be too happy yet," Baba said in spite of the grin on his face. Handing his dripping umbrella to Ah Yi, he added, "I want everyone to meet in my study. There are some important matters we need to talk about."
We gathered in Baba’s study. How I wished Hok-Ching were there. I’d grown accustomed to seeing him every day for two months, but suddenly he was gone, leaving a hole in my life. What was he doing now? How was he celebrating the joyous occasion?
"Chiang Kai-Shek has offered me the post of economic minister, and I have accepted," Baba announced.
Everyone cried out in delight. Ah Yi sat quietly next to her husband, her face glowing with pride. Ah Ma sat far away, her upper lip puckering in a sour twist that was showing up frequently these days. Since my engagement, I’d been allowed an insider’s view of the family, and the glimpses I caught were of a whole other aspect that I never knew existed.