Wings of a Flying Tiger

by Iris Yang

  Jasmine was in the middle of the line. How the Japanese could tell which women were prostitutes was unclear to her. It seemed like a full-scale inspection of the most attractive candidates for rape. I should have disguised myself. She bit her lip and dragged her feet, dreading the process.

  “Let’s exchange coats,” suggested Xiao Mei. She wore a dark blue overcoat and iron-gray cotton hat.

  Jasmine shook her head. With long dark hair, almond eyes, a heart-shaped face and a well-tailored coat the color of an oyster, she was indeed in danger. But how can I put Xiao Mei at risk? “I’m too tall for your clothes.”

  Xiao Mei rolled her eyes in exasperation. “At least take my hat.” She helped Jasmine twist and hide her hair under the hat.

  By the time it was their turn, the Japanese had already taken twenty sobbing girls.

  “Let me see your face,” the officer demanded through the interpreter.

  Jasmine had no choice but to lift her head.

  “Take off your hat,” he said.

  Her dark hair fell like a cloak of satin down to her waist. She hadn’t cut her hair since she was ten. It was a sign of her femininity and her beauty. An icy wind sent chills down her spine as he subjected her to a slow inspection. She averted her gaze, hoping to God that her good looks wouldn’t work against her.

  The officer stared at her only a moment before waving his right hand. Immediately, two soldiers stepped up and held her by her arms. She protested, and Xiao Mei screamed as the men dragged her toward the other girls.

  “No, no, no!” shouted Professor Valentine and rushed to the front of the crowd. “You’re making a mistake.” She stood before the officer. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her voice and said, “Colonel Yama-guchi, she’s my…goddaughter. Her mother and I are best friends for twenty years. Please let her go.”

  “I’m in charge here,” said the officer.

  “You can’t do this. She is not a prostitute!”

  He thumped his sword on the ground. Wire-framed glasses and a tiny black mustache emphasized the roundness of his face. “If I say she is, then she is.”

  “You…” The American was speechless. Anger and helplessness passed over her face.

  “Wait!” A young woman stepped up from the line. With permed wavy hair and heavy makeup, she appeared to be in her mid-twenties. A carmine red cheongsam, too thin for the cold day, hugged every inch of her slender body. A jet-black shawl draped her shoulders. “I’ll take her place.” Staring at the man in charge, she added, “I know a trick or two. I’m more useful.” Slowly she ran her tongue across her painted red lips and fluttered her eyelashes.

  The Japanese officer licked his lips, too. He beckoned the soldiers with one curled finger. The two men followed his order and released Jasmine.

  The other woman turned to Professor Valentine. Her mouth stretched into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “My brother is in the Science building. Will you take care of him?”

  “Of course.” The American gave a firm nod. “Of course.”

  The young woman smiled. This time, it was genuine. She turned around, sauntered toward the group of singled-out women, and never looked back.

  The professor pulled Jasmine away in a hurry as if the Japanese officer might change his mind.

  “What’s going on?” asked Jasmine, her voice uneven, her body still trembling.

  The American averted her eyes.

  “Why did she save me?” Jasmine asked. Her face was pale. “What happened to her brother?”

  Professor Valentine sighed. “She was trying to save him, but I’m afraid she can’t—”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She came to me for help yesterday. Her teenager brother was wounded.” The American swallowed hard. “So many people are wounded. We can’t save them all. The hospital has only one surgeon. I have to turn some away, the helpless ones, you know.”

  “Dear God!”

  Chapter 11

  Christmas Eve arrived cold and snowy. After a dinner of rice porridge and pickled vegetable, Professor Valentine, Jasmine, Li Ming, and Xiao Mei’s family retreated to Professor Valentine’s bedroom. The four women had been sharing the large bed by lying sideways. Xiao Mei’s father had been using the recliner, and Li Ming had been sleeping on the floor.

  “The Japanese just told us—the International Committee—that twenty thousand soldiers are still in the Safety Zone.” The professor groaned. “They’re going to hunt them down and kill them all.”

  “How can that be? They’ve already killed so many people,” exclaimed Jasmine. She was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “I don’t know where they got the figures. I’m afraid…”

  Outside, the wind howled, sneaked through cracks in the house, and made the room frigid and the dire situation even more depressing.

  Pasting a faint smile on her face, the American pulled a chocolate bar from a drawer in her nightstand. “On a brighter note, it’s Christmas Eve. Let’s celebrate with this last piece.” She handed it to Jasmine.

  “No. You save it.”

  “I did. It’s Christmas Eve. I saved it for this moment.”

  Jasmine nodded, nibbled a little, and passed it to Xiao Mei. Everyone in the room took a small bite, except for Li Ming, who simply passed it back to the professor.

  “Please,” she insisted.

  Tears welled in his eyes as he took a tiny bite. “I’m sorry.” Frustration and pain laced his voice. “It’s my duty to protect people. Instead…” He paused. His Adam’s apple bounced a few times.

  “You were ordered to retreat,” Jasmine defended him.

  “We knew it would be a disaster. We were in the middle of a breakneck defense. A few of us low-ranking officers tried to air our opinions. But we couldn’t find any high-ranking officers—they had already fled. They left us, left the city defenseless. If we’d fought to the last man, Nanking wouldn’t be like this.”

  Professor Valentine reached out and patted Li Ming’s arm. “You’ll have other chances. China will never perish. Your people will need—”

  Xiao Mei shrieked, interrupting the conversation. She lifted her legs high in the air as she scooted back on the bed.

  “What’s—” Jasmine stopped her question before she, too, retreated.

  Xiao Mei’s father took off one of his shoes. Leaping to his feet, he beat his shoe on the floor in front of the girls.

  Li Ming dived. His upper body disappeared under the wooden bed. Noisy moments later he reappeared. His mouth stretched into a wide grin as he held a fat rat in his hand. Its tiny eyes bulged; its gray fur was matted with blood.

  Both Jasmine and Xiao Mei recoiled.

  “What’s the matter?” Li Ming grabbed the dead rat by the tail, swinging it. “It’s meat!” He looked at the rat again. “How did it get so fat when we’re starving to death?”

  “Dead bodies,” said Xiao Mei’s father, his gaunt face grim. “Rats will eat anything, corpses included.”

  Li Ming’s smile vanished. His arm dropped to his side as if the rat had suddenly become too heavy to hold.

  “It’s still meat.” Xiao Mei’s brother took the rat from Li Ming. “Beats the daisies and goldenrod other refugees are eating. Tomorrow’s rice porridge will be tastier,” he added, walking out of the bedroom.

  Jasmine grimaced at the thought.

  “I’m going to set some traps,” Xiao Mei’s father said.

  Xiao Mei rolled her eyes in disgust.

  Leaning against the wall, Li Ming dusted himself off. “Why do you do this, Professor Valentine?” he asked. “Why stay in Nanking? You’re an American. You could have left the city long before the invasion.”

  Jasmine agreed. “Why suffer with us like this?”

  “I’ve lived in China for twenty years,” the American answered. “This is my home. My students and colleagues are my friends.” She touched Jasmine’s hand. “Your mother was my best friend. She taught me how to cook Nanking Salted Duck and how to make dumplings
with pork and leek. We went shopping together. She took me to all the scenic places, and we walked many times near Purple Mountain.”

  Smoothing the girl’s hair, she continued, “I watched you grow up, Jasmine. Your painting of a tiger is still hanging in the living room.” Turning to the others, she explained, “I was born in the Year of the Tiger.”

  “Don’t you know it’s dangerous?” Li Ming was perplexed. “Even if the Japs care about your nationality, the bombs don’t care.”

  “I know. But I can’t turn my back on a service of the highest kind—saving lives!”

  “No wonder people call you the living Goddess of Nanking!” Li Ming blurted out.

  Time dragged on. The day seemed interminable, and all the days seemed alike. Every night Jasmine prayed. But great fires lit the sky, reminding her that the Japanese work of looting and destruction continued. The stench of blood, decay, and smoke crept into the house, permeating the air and making her cough. Each morning she wondered how she could live through another twenty-four hours. Life had lost all meaning. Why does one live? Why does one have to suffer? How bad is death? Why not just give up?

  “It can’t get any worse,” Professor Valentine kept saying. She’d been spending her days walking from one end of the campus to the other trying to drive out group after group of Japanese soldiers. But each day seemed worse than the day before. Atrocious stories never stopped pouring into the refugee camp.

  “A group of Japs carried heads on the ends of their rifles and walked around the town. They were talking and laughing along the way.”

  “Several Japanese soldiers took an old woman and placed her on top of a tree stump about ten feet high. She teetered on her tiny bound feet for a moment and fell. The soldiers put her on the stump time after time until she lay motionless on the ground.”

  “A woman survived ten stab wounds. She told the doctor and the nurses that she’d been kidnapped by the Japanese with five other girls. The soldiers brought them to a large house where they forced the girls to wash clothes during the day and raped them throughout the night. When she couldn’t satisfy them anymore, two Japs stabbed her with a bayonet.”

  “Half a dozen Japs dug out a Chinese man’s heart and ate it with wine!”

  “The Japanese soldiers buried people alive, forcing them to dig the pit first, and left the protruding heads to terrorize others. The anguished howls could be heard from miles away.”

  “The Japanese troops killed a large group of captured Chinese soldiers with machine guns. They filled a big tank trap with the bodies to the brim so that their tanks could pass over. The bodies were dripping with blood. Some were still alive and moaning.”

  The horrors continued.

  Surrounded by mountains and the Yangtze River, Nanking was once a charming capital rich in art and history, and now it was a Hell on Earth.

  Chapter 12

  It was almost mid-February, 1938, when the orgy of violence finally tapered off. Little by little the refugees left the camp. Professor Valentine’s guests also began to return to their homes.

  Xiao Mei’s family had lived on the outskirts of Nanking where they made firecrackers for a living. Right before the Japanese invasion, her parents and her brother had fled into the city. From the top of the tall city wall, they watched their house being set on fire. The explosives in their workshop started a series of loud explosions and a display of spectacular fireworks. In a matter of minutes, their belongings and life savings had literally gone up in smoke. Now homeless, Xiao Mei’s family decided to stay with her grandparents in a village fifty miles southwest of Nanking.

  “Why don’t you come with us, Miss Jasmine?” Xiao Mei suggested. “My grandpa owns a fishing boat. Mom said maybe we could convince them to move to Chungking. It can’t be safe so close to Nanking.”

  Jasmine shook her head. She’d overheard their discussion. The boat was small, barely enough for everyone—Xiao Mei’s family, her grandparents, three uncles and their families. She shouldn’t add an extra burden. Besides, they might or might not end up in Chungking. Xiao Mei’s grandparents had lived in the same village all their lives. They were getting old and might not want to move far away.

  Unwilling to worry the servant girl, Jasmine forged a smile. “Father John said he would help me to go back to Chungking.”

  “How?” Xiao Mei cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “There’s no transportation in or out of Nanking. How do you—?”

  “I don’t know.” Jasmine touched the housemaid on her arm. “But you know Father John. I’m sure he can figure out a way.”

  “Miss Jasmine…” Xiao Mei swallowed as if there were something in her throat. “I’ll miss you!”

  Jasmine opened her arms and drew the servant girl into an embrace. The two young women held each other for a long time. Tears ran down Xiao Mei’s cheeks when they parted. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  Jasmine stretched her hand and wiped the housemaid’s face. “Don’t worry about me. Do you still remember my uncle’s address and phone number?”

  The servant girl gave a firm nod.

  “Xiao Mei, you must stop at Uncle’s home, if you end up in Chungking. Okay?”

  Sniffling, the housemaid dropped to her knees and bowed down.

  “Oh! Don’t—”

  “Please let me do this.” Xiao Mei looked up. “You and your parents saved me. I…I…” She knelt in front of Jasmine and knocked her forehead on the floor three times, using the traditional way to express her sincere gratitude and reverence. Then she straightened her upper body but remained on her knees. Using two fingers on each hand, she quoted an idiom, “‘A drop of water shall be returned with a burst of spring.’ How will I ever pay back—?”

  Feeling the onset of tears, Jasmine grabbed Xiao Mei’s arms and pulled her up. “You saved me, too. Remember?”

  “I’m sorry, Jasmine,” Li Ming said after Xiao Mei’s family had left. They were standing alone in the empty living room.

  Seeing the uneasiness on his face, Jasmine blurted out, “Don’t tell me—”

  He lowered his head to avoid her gaze. “I got in touch with two former soldiers hiding on campus. We’ve decided to join the resistance.”

  “The Communist guerillas?”

  Li Ming nodded.

  “But…but...” Jasmine didn’t know what to say.

  The Nationalists and the Communists were adversaries and had fought each other vigorously since 1927. It was only the Japanese attack in 1937 that brought the two sides together. Although Chiang Kaishek, the Nationalist leader, and his government had failed the soldiers in their hour of need, he was still the head of the country and the army.

  The silence lengthened between them. The room was quiet except for the thunder rolling in the distance. Finally she mumbled, “I know you’re disappointed. But don’t give up. Not everyone in the Nationalist party is unreliable. Great people like my uncle, Cousin Birch, and you are working for the government.”

  “Thanks, Jasmine.” Li Ming lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. “But we need someone who will lead us to fight the Japanese to the end, who won’t abandon us when danger comes.”

  “How do you know the Communists will lead?”

  “Honestly, I don’t. But I’m willing to take a chance. I know what happened here. Too many friends died in Nanking. I can’t go through that again.”

  “How do you plan to get out of the city? The Japs guard all the gates. They won’t allow you to pass. It’s too dangerous.”

  “We talked about it. We’re going to join a burial group.”

  “A burial group?”

  “Yes. There are still a lot of bodies along the Yangtze River that need to be buried. In this way, we’ll be allowed to go out of the city. We’ll find a chance to get away.”

  Unable to argue, Jasmine nodded. “Are you going home first? You said you haven’t seen your baby for over a year. Why don’t you—?”

  “I can’t. They’re in Peking. The Japs are there. I don’t even
know if they’re still…alive. The last letter I received from my wife was six months ago.”

  Jasmine picked up a notebook on the coffee table, wrote down her uncle’s address, tore out the page, and handed it to Li Ming. “If you end up somewhere near Chungking, please look for my uncle and Birch. I…I hope I’ll get home one day. Just in case I can’t, please tell them what happened here.” Father John had tried to call, but the phone line was still out of service.

  Li Ming tipped his head.

  “If for any reason you need help, look them up. They’re kind people. Tell them...mmm…I could swim a thousand meters when I was eight. In this way, they will know you’re a close friend. They’ll help you.”

  “One thousand meters? At eight?”

  “See, it’s something special, and easy to remember.”

  He nodded again and put the piece of paper in his pocket. “Jasmine…” He paused, switching his weight from one foot to another. “I…I don’t know how to repay—”

  She cut him off. Her face spread into a dimpled smile. “You’re my Li Ming Ge—Big Brother Li Ming. Always… Remember?”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “Take care of yourself, ‘Cousin Birch.’ Hopefully, I’ll see you one day in Chungking.”

  The former lieutenant clicked his heels together and snapped a salute. His dark eyes filled with gratitude and longing.

  Tears welled in her eyes, but Jasmine kept a smile pasted on her face until he had left. She hurried to the window. It was raining. Li Ming waved at her through the mist, straightened his spine, and turned around. She blinked a few times to get the moisture from her eyes in time to watch him disappear in a curtain of rain.

  Lightning crackled, and a clap of thunder made the house shake. A great emptiness opened inside her. She’d lived with Xiao Mei and Li Ming for more than two months in this extraordinarily difficult time. Now both were gone.

  Will we ever meet again? The same question she’d asked when they were separated from Chen Hong, the other servant girl, came to mind. The slim possibility made her heart squeeze. The tears she’d fought since Xiao Mei had said goodbye began to fall, as loneliness settled like a heavy blanket upon her.