by Iris Yang
“No! God, no!” Danny’s bloodcurdling wail echoed through the canyon. He beat the earth repeatedly with the rock that he still held in his hand. Then, with all the agony, frustration, and strength that he had, he hurled the rock across the chasm to the spot where the enemy had gathered. Then he turned and punched Birch in the chest, knocking him to the ground.
“What have you done?” In a fit of anger and grief, he lifted his arm, ready to seriously hurt the man who had blown his own sister to pieces. But before his fist landed on Birch’s face, he stopped.
Before him lay a fallen man, a body turned to stone, a bloodstained face frozen in a mask of agony. Danny’s heart broke, and his hand changed direction, landing instead on the rocky ground beside Birch’s head. Instantly, his knuckles were covered with blood. The impact with the hard surface sent shivers of pain up his arm. Yet he didn’t care. He needed physical pain to take away the sorrow he didn’t know how to endure. Raising his arm, he prepared to hit again.
“Stop!” Birch grabbed the American’s elbow, trying to stop him.
It was too late. Danny’s fist hit the stony ground again. Then, for a third time, Danny raised his arm. “Why?” he shouted, his eyes glowing with fury. “Why did you do it?”
“I had no choice. No choice…”
“We could have gone back. We might have found another way. God knows, as long as she was alive, there was a chance. There was…hope.”
Birch shook his head. His throat became so constricted that he could hardly speak. He closed his eyes, keeping Danny from seeing the depth of his despair. A thousand memories dragged him to the edge of madness.
He still remembered the day Daisy was born. She was cute, adorable, and always sweet. The first time she smiled at him, the ten-year-old boy had melted. When she gripped his finger with her soft hand, he had vowed to protect her with his life. When she called him “Ge” for the first time, he was as proud as he could be. During the past seventeen years, a day hadn’t gone by without him thinking of her. She was his beloved sister.
Such vivid memories nearly paralyzed him. He felt the world closing in on him, squeezing his neck, and suffocating him. Daisy had loved him. She had always looked up to her Big Tiger Brother. She trusted him to protect her, to shield her from harm. What have I done? Never in a million years could he imagine that this was how their relationship would end.
Daisy! Silently he screamed her name. His hands clenched into fists so tight that all the blood was wrung out of them. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Tears collected at the corners of his closed eyes.
Danny could feel Birch’s sadness. And his heart wrenched again. Yet he had no idea how to handle his own pain and sorrow. Picking up a couple of sticks, he stood up and stumbled away, fleeing from the sad scene.
Birch opened his eyes and snatched the empty pistol. Seizing Danny’s arm, he tried to keep him from falling.
Danny brushed aside Birch’s hand. “Leave me alone!” he barked. Eyes bulging, he looked ready to kill. “You hear me? Keep your hands off me!” He stormed off, leaving his companion open-mouthed.
“Wait, Danny. Turn left,” Birch called after him. “We have to go this way.”
Chapter 48
Danny had a nightmare. It had started rather well. Jack was in the dream. Jasmine and Daisy were there, too. They were all sitting on a magenta-and-white blanket in a meadow carpeted with forget-me-nots. Yellow butterflies, their wings marked with black lines and dots, floated all around them. The air smelled of honey. He was thankful that no bees were there. Jack was allergic to bee stings. It was an idyllic afternoon. The sun was shining. A turquoise lake lay at the bottom of the hillside, and a snow-capped peak jutted straight into the blue sky. A soft mountain breeze touched his cheek. Is this Yunnan Province in China or California in America, Danny wondered?
They talked while drinking Chinese rice wine. Danny talked most. The cousins regarded him with admiring smiles. He was perplexed that his best friend didn’t talk much. Jack was never tongue-tied in front of women. Girls were crazy about his rugged good looks. Maybe, Danny reckoned, his friend was just missing Susan. They were planning to get married. But when will that be? He remembered how happy his sister and Jack had been when they’d become engaged. The wedding would be soon. Right?
As he strained to remember, a huge red dragon swooped down and sprayed fire from its mouth. In a split second, the meadow became an inferno. Both Jack and Daisy turned into fireballs. “No!” Danny cried out.
Where is Jasmine? He couldn’t do anything for Jack or Daisy, but he might be able to protect Jasmine. If he could only find her!
Frantically he searched the area. No sign of the beautiful woman who had been so close to him only a moment ago. She had simply vanished in a sea of red hot fire.
Danny jerked awake. He fluttered his eyelids, trying to pull himself out of the frightful dream. When he caught sight of Birch by the campfire with a stick in his hand, he knew why he’d dreamed of fire.
The night was quiet. The air smelled of smoke. Wood crackled. Orange flames danced and flickered with cobalt tips.
Birch had seldom displayed great emotions during daytime, but in the middle of the night, while he thought his companion was asleep, his face contorted into a haunting expression of agony. Sitting cross-legged by the fire, his shoulders sagged. Firelight reflected the liquid on his cheeks and illuminated the tears in his dark, soulful eyes, and Danny had the strange thought that the eyes he was seeing were Daisy’s eyes. Or Jasmine’s…
He felt sympathy for Birch. He knew the pain of losing a loved one. He’d known Daisy for only six weeks, and yet the pain of her death was unbearable. Birch had lived with her for seventeen years. How could he bear such a loss?
Danny had an urge to rush to the fellow pilot’s side, to tell him that he understood his pain, and to assure him that he wasn’t alone. Yet he did none of those things. He wasn’t ready. How could he counsel someone when he himself desperately needed emotional support?
Closing his eyes, he turned away from the campfire. Shadows claimed his features at once. He hid in the darkness. His lips clamped together, his jaw quivered. Curling his right hand into a fist, he pressed the knuckles onto his mouth to stifle a cry. Rivers of tears he’d tried so hard to suppress during daylight now flowed in the dark.
That night, both men nursed their own wounds in isolation.
Danny hadn’t spoken to Birch since Daisy was killed. He relied on two sticks to move, stumbling and tripping. When he staggered, Birch tried to catch him, but each time Danny brushed him aside.
Danny was angry with Birch, but he was more furious with himself. He was supposed to protect the people in China; that was the reason he’d come here. Instead, wherever he went, people died. Jack was gone. So was Daisy. She and Birch had not used the word “death,” but Danny knew from their faces that Jasmine, too, had been killed. He wished he knew exactly what had happened. There hadn’t been time for Daisy to tell him, and he doubted that she would have given him any details. He wanted to ask Birch what had happened, yet how could he? Birch had his own tortuous grief to confront. Facing his pseudo bravery, Danny wasn’t even sure he could handle hearing the truth. Danny Hardy was a Tiger trapped in a cage.
Chapter 49
For three days they walked in silence. On the last afternoon they reached a river with murky water rushing headlong over rocks and logs in the middle. There wasn’t a bridge in sight. “This is Shallow River. It will take us only a couple of hours from this point,” Birch called out.
Danny approached the riverbank. After struggling for three days in pain with a wounded leg, he was exhausted, and he was glad there were only two hours left in the journey. More importantly, his company with this Chinese pilot would end soon. He couldn’t wait to get away from him, from the negative energy between them. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel so much pain if he didn’t have to look at the cousin of the woman he’d loved, the brother of the girl he’d cared for.
Birch stepped in fr
ont of Danny, blocking his way. “Your injuries—” He didn’t get to finish. The American walked around him and continued to limp toward the river.
“Wait!” Standing with feet planted slightly apart, Birch opened his arms. “Let me carry you.”
“No!”
“But the water—”
Danny dismissed him with a wave of his walking stick. He started hobbling again then murmured, without turning, “Over my dead body.”
“The water isn’t deep, but it’s cold and dirty. It could be bad for your malaria, and your wounds might become infected again. You—”
“I don’t care!”
“I care. Daisy and Jasmine would care.” Birch’s face darkened. “They would be sad…if they could see you—”
“Tell me what happened to Jasmine.” Danny glared at Birch. This was his last chance. Soon they would part ways.
“Only if you let me carry you…” Birch glared back, not backing off. His chin went up.
“You—”
“Please.” Birch softened his voice. “You know your leg isn’t just yours anymore.”
Danny knew it well. Even his life didn’t belong only to him. People had given up their lives to save his. What could he do? He couldn’t intentionally damage his health when others valued his life and well-being so highly. The tough fighter pilot had no choice but to comply. Taking a frustrated breath, he tipped his head in an almost imperceptible nod and flung the sticks away.
Birch let out a pent-up breath and snatched one of the sticks. For the second time since they had met, he carried the American on his back. Wrapping his left hand around Danny’s left thigh, he made sure that the injuries were well above the unclean water. He leaned his body forward, putting weight on the stick in his right hand.
Sunlight shimmered on the surface of the river. The mountain water was cold, but even so, beads of perspiration soon appeared on his face. The salty sweat stabbed like pinpricks on his cuts.
The current was deceptively swift. Rocks of different sizes and shapes lay at the bottom of Shallow River. Luckily, the water was mostly knee high. Birch waded one step at a time, careful not to catch his feet in the cracks and crevices. Some of the rocks were slippery with moss, and several times he slipped, but not once did he fall. He was determined not to let Danny’s wounds be submerged. With unwavering determination and the strength of a soldier, Birch plodded across the river.
“Thank you,” Danny muttered after they reached the other side.
Birch was out of breath. “You’re welcome.” His face was the color of a ripe tomato. He was drenched from head to toe by the cold river water and by his own sweat.
Danny pointed to a tree trunk not far from the shore. “Should we?”
They rested for a few minutes, enjoying the warm sun on their backs.
Birch began to speak: “As I promised, Jasmine…” His voice trailed off. His throat constricted to a point where he could hardly force the words out of his mouth. Taking a ragged breath, he pulled out a red scarf from his pocket. He’d found it in the village. The carmine red scarf had been hanging on a tree branch, flapping in the wind. He knew that it had belonged to Jasmine. He had given it to her when he’d escorted them to the village, a place he and his father had assumed would be safe.
“May I…may I keep it?” Danny asked, staring at the scarf.
Birch really wanted it, but he handed it to Danny without hesitation. On their way back to the cave, Daisy had told him what had happened over the past few weeks. He could tell that both his sister and cousin had fallen in love with this gallant Flying Tiger.
Danny grabbed the scarf with both of his hands and pressed it to his chest. A single tear seeped from the corner of his eye and made its way down his cheek.
Seeing Danny’s emotion, Birch felt relieved. He knew Jasmine would be pleased if she were watching. As for himself, he didn’t need anything to remind him of his sister-like cousin. They had shared twenty-three years together, and she would always be in his heart. He just wished he could erase the last few hours of her life. The images were too painful to relive, yet they were stubbornly hard to forget.
Swallowing the dryness in his mouth, Birch began the most difficult story he’d ever told. “Jasmine’s fate was sealed the moment she went back to the village…”
Part Three
Forget You Not
Chapter 50
“What are you doing here?” Doctor Wang called when he spotted Jasmine stepping into his front yard.
“We forgot the medicine bag. Danny is in pain. I’ve got to—”
“Oh, no! Is he okay? Other than the pain?”
“He’s okay, I think. We’ve used sweet wormwood three times a day. It works well for his malaria. But forget-me-not is useless for pain.”
“I know. I’m sorry. My fault. I should have looked through his room—”
“No, it was our fault.” Jasmine waved her arms.
“Well, I’ll go up to the cave with you after lunch. You’ll need more food soon.”
“Have you heard anything from my uncle or my cousin?” She moistened her lips with a nervous lick.
“No, not yet. I was waiting for Linzi. That’s why I wanted to wait a few more days before bringing supplies. I was hoping we might learn something by then.”
“He’s not back yet?”
“Not yet. Don’t worry, Jasmine.” Doctor Wang narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. “Linzi is reliable. He’ll find a way to inform them. It takes time, now that the Japs are in Anning.”
She nodded, hoping the herbalist was right. “Should we…” she ventured, “should we send Shitou to the town as well? It’s been several days.”
“Point taken,” agreed Doctor Wang. “Let’s have a quick lunch. I’ll send Shitou down the mountain afterwards. Then I’ll go up with you. All is in order. Do you feel better now?”
“Yes,” said Jasmine, dipping her head. Storm clouds crawled above, stealing sunlight. Shadows fell across her face.
“Do you think the Japs will come here?” Jasmine asked at the dining table with the herbalist’s family. She held a bowl of rice, but she didn’t hurry to eat.
“I don’t think so. As I said, this is a tiny village. No need for them to come here. No outsider knows about Danny. I’ve reminded everyone repeatedly to keep it a secret.” He picked up a piece of her favorite wild mushroom and put it in her bowl. “Stop worrying so much, girl. Eat!”
Next to Jasmine, Shitou glanced at his grandpa, fidgeted in his seat, and lowered his head. Jasmine noticed the boy’s awkwardness. Has he told his friends in town? Knowing Shitou, this wouldn’t be a surprise. The teenager was so proud of his part in the rescue of the Flying Tiger that he couldn’t stop talking about it to anyone in the village who would listen. But had he been able to control himself when he went to the town? She hoped that the boy had listened to his grandfather and kept his mouth shut. The result of a loose tongue could be disastrous.
Jasmine knew how efficient the Japanese spies were. The destruction of Jiaochangkou Tunnel was the work of their secret agents. They had informed and directed their bombers to destroy the entrances of the shelter. Several thousand people had been locked inside and died, including her aunt.
“What if…” Still deep in thought, she chewed the mushroom without tasting it. “What if—”
Shouts and screams erupted from outside. Jasmine looked up, her eyes widening. Doctor Wang shot to his feet. Before anyone could do anything, two Japanese soldiers kicked down the door and stormed inside. All the fear, pain, and hatred that she’d experienced in Nanking rushed back, robbing her of her ability to think, to react. She sat paralyzed on her seat.
A soldier grabbed her upper arm. He jerked her to her feet with violent speed and shoved her so hard that she staggered and fell to the ground.
Shitou jumped up. He extended his hand to help Jasmine stand.
“Ike. Go! Get out,” the soldiers barked. With bayonets fixed on rifles, they herded the family outside.
Soon all the villagers were crowded in the herbalist’s front yard.
“What the hell?” Doctor Wang mumbled under his breath. “Why? How did they find…” His voice trailed off as he stared at his grandson.
Shitou would not meet his grandfather’s eyes.
“You…” The old man glared at the boy.
Jasmine stood behind them. Her suspicion had turned out to be true. The worst nightmare had become reality. She was once again face to face with the Japanese. How much do they know? Do they understand my involvement?
Even without knowing her role in assisting the American, they might single her out. She wore a shapeless cotton tunic and loose-fitting trousers like a farm girl. Yet her beauty stood out, working dangerously against her. Without the protection of Father John and Professor Valentine, she was in serious danger. Jasmine lowered her head, trying to make herself inconspicuous.
“My name is Sadao,” a Japanese officer spoke through an interpreter. Unlike a military man in charge, his voice was soft. He was in his late twenties, of medium height and good build, with a pleasant face and close-cropped hair. “I’m sorry to inconvenience everyone,” he apologized, adjusting the star-studded cap on his head. “But we need your help. An American pilot bailed out in this area. We heard he was injured. We’d like to find him. We want to talk to him. We’ll take care of him, if he’s badly hurt.”
Sadao scanned the frightened crowd. The Japanese intelligence agency had picked up a rumor of a downed American pilot in the area but they had no idea in which village to search. Several small communities were scattered throughout this mountainous region and accessible only by foot. The interpreter was a Japanese businessman, who lived in the town of Anning. He knew the unofficial paths.