He did, however, determine to broach the subject of his marital future as soon as possible. Sing Fat had more than enough gold on deposit to acquire a wife and go into business for himself without asking permission from anyone, but he liked the prospect of studying medicine under his teacher’s astute tutelage and would do nothing to unsettle his benefactor’s faith in him.
Sing Fat and his teacher reached Salinas late in the evening to find eight important messages pinned to the door of the shop. It seemed as though everyone had waited until their departure to come down with one illness or another. There would be no rest that night. The elder Fat instructed his apprentice to go and tell the various people who had left notes that he had returned. He said they would keep the shop open all night, if necessary, to accommodate their patients, and that was just what they did.
Sing Fat was allowed to retire from his labors just before dawn, but even then, sleep was a long time in coming. Haunting daydreams of Sue May Yee now occupied every waking moment not dedicated to the concentration required by his work. He could not afford the distraction since his movements and decisions lay under the constant vigilance of his eminent teacher.
As the fates would have it, Sing Fat was not forced to broach the subject of Sue May Yee first. The following evening, while the elder Fat’s silent and aged housekeeper prepared a modest supper of vegetables and spiced rice, the apothecary cleared his throat and asked his student what ambitions he nurtured for the future. He said that his position required him to understand the depth of a student’s dedication to so complex a study as the one that now lay before him.
Sing Fat looked surprised, but blessed this invited opportunity to express his hopes candidly. At the very least he could not be accused of forcing personal considerations upon his generous benefactor. Here bloomed a chance for Sing Fat to accommodate his own visions without causing offense.
Sing Fat took a few moments to order his thoughts, bracing his purpose with solid reasoning so as not to sound like a mooncalf or an infatuated bumpkin. He then spoke his heart with the honesty and respect due a sincere question, but he spoke like one determined to prevail against all intervening demons of opposition. When it came to ways and means, hopes and dreams, Sing Fat was any man’s equal.
He began, as one might expect, with a catalog of gratitude and obligations. Sing Fat felt a profound responsibility to maintain his studies in his present capacity. His ambition embraced accreditation eventually, if he proved worthy.
But there was one caveat, one consequential key that was necessary to bind him to a world of measureless professional obligations. Sing Fat must anchor himself within the security and domestic joys of his own family, and to accomplish this he must have a wife. That wife could never be any other than the woman who helped save his life, Sue May Yee. The incomparable Sue May Yee and no other.
The elder Fat affected an expression of modest amazement and deep consideration. He set down his rice bowl and chopsticks and contemplated his pupil’s bearing and composure. He had been prepared for love’s heartfelt enthusiasm, of course, but not the rationality of purpose, the vehemence of assertion.
It was obvious at once that Sing Fat would have all or nothing. But nothing, in the company of Sue May Yee, was far preferable to everything without her. It seemed his student was willing to take on the responsibility of both worlds and, indeed, he possessed the funds to support his ambitions. Chow Yong Fat lifted his cup, sipped his tea, and closed his eyes, savoring its fragrance and flavor.
So be it, thought Chow Yong Fat. This distant clansman had showed undeniable courage in the raw process of simply surviving a world turned upside down, and he had done it using his wits as well as his back. Any bride would presume the fortunes of heaven had blessed her with a husband of character, intelligence, and tenacity of purpose.
The elder Fat set down his tea, picked up his rice bowl, and ate a small portion of vegetables. He took his time chewing and all the while he clasped eyes with his young pupil in a noncommittal fashion. His hooded gaze betrayed no sentiment whatsoever. Sing Fat could feel the tension raising hairs at the back of his neck. His teacher eventually swallowed, allowed himself another sip of green tea, and waited a long moment. He then bowed his head and asked Sing Fat if he might be accorded the honor of presenting the future bride with her wedding regalia.
Though he could not permit himself the tears of relief and joy that he felt welling, Sing Fat bowed, sniffed back the catch in his voice, and said that such an honor was beyond his worthiness. He warranted that his own merits were of little significance in the schemes of heaven, but the virtuous and noble Sue May Yee would certainly imbue the gift with appropriate grace and radiance.
Sing Fat bowed again and in a stronger voice declared that his master’s sponsorship had given him the greatest pleasure he had known since his father had trusted him with his first book and taught him to read.
Chow Yong Fat rose and retrieved a beautiful bottle of golden rice wine and two translucent jade cups. He insisted that tradition demanded that the two men toast the occasion. He bowed slightly and said he would be delighted to stand proxy for Sing Fat’s noble father. He would give the first customary invocation of matrimonial longevity and heaven’s blessing of many strong and virtuous sons. Sing Fat gave the next toast, and after a few such rounds of celebratory wine the room took on a warm glow of familial commemoration. Sing Fat had missed the presence of such feelings, such moments. He laughed wholeheartedly at the thought of his prospective fulfillments as the head of his own family.
A few more libations to the gods of hearth and home and Chow Yong Fat insisted that it would be best to set about the wedding preparations at once. He suggested Sing Fat withdraw a small sum of money to purchase gifts for Sue May Yee and her relatives. It would be a small expense since her relations had dwindled to but a pitiful few. Her father-in-law would, of course, act on Sue May Yee’s behalf and, if Sing Fat approved, Chow Yong Fat would represent the groom in the customary negotiations. There could be no question of a dowry, unfortunately. The Yee clan had been forced to live from hand to mouth since the ocean demons had taken so many of their sons and brothers.
Sing Fat smiled and interjected that he would insist upon a dowry. A dowry of six seashells. One for every son he hoped to rear to flourishing manhood.
Sing Fat said he would take a small house near the shop and continue his duties and studies as before. Sue May Yee might then help with the shop business as well. The prospects shimmered with implied prosperity and good fortune. The rich soil of his dreams now possessed true spiritual roots and purpose, and Sing Fat was the happiest young man on earth.
The following week was crowded with activity. First Sing Fat discovered a great deal of shop work to snatch from disaster, and then there were the daily excursions with his nuptial sponsor to purchase the appropriate gifts for his prospective relations.
Some of these presents were deemed traditional, while other offerings were meant to fulfill appropriate needs. But the most important and thoroughly considered gifts were meant to turn the head of any young woman of modest qualities, and Sue May Yee was all that and much more.
To symbolize his singular affection, Sing Fat purchased an ancient, filigreed ivory fan set with numerous gold dragons and hinged with a silver monkey carrying a staff. It cost one hundred dollars, and Sing Fat would happily have paid twice the price without blinking an eye had it not been for the elder Fat’s firm and considerate intervention.
Sing Fat had the fan wrapped in white rabbit fur and purple silk and then placed in a sandalwood box carved all about with cranes in flight. The box, together with a beautifully ornamented tortoiseshell comb, was wrapped inside an expensive embroidered shawl. Then it amused the prospective groom to package the lot in a wrapping of Japan paper and string, as though the parcel’s contents were of no particular value. Last, he packaged six small tins of cooked goose livers for Sue May Yee’s white cat. Sing Fat thought this a humorous detail and hoped the cat w
ould enjoy the gift and not presume it an out-and-out bribe, which it was.
Dawn of the following Saturday found master and pupil smartly dressed and sitting upon a freshly painted cart. Even the mule’s tack and brass furnishings had been polished to a high luster.
Sing Fat had accomplished it all personally in what time he could spare from work. He hadn’t slept soundly all week, for obvious reasons, and had decided not to waste the hours in fretful anticipation, so he repainted the cart at his own expense by the light of kerosene lamps.
The elder Fat thought the prospective groom quite moonstruck and prescribed cold baths in the river. Sing Fat merely smiled at the suggestion and went about his business doing just as he pleased. The apothecary shrugged, shook his head, and focused upon his own affairs. He knew from experience that only the simplest tasks could be expected from his pupil until the whole marriage-contract business was settled one way or another. Under the circumstances, the elder Fat saw no reason to postpone the inevitable union. The sooner accomplished, within the constraints of propriety and custom, the sooner everyone could go back to more important matters.
The cart had been stripped of the usual trappings. Instead, numerous wrapped parcels and packages lay in light crates bedded with chopped straw to protect them from breakage. A case of fine rice wine, each bottle mantled in a coat of woven straw, rested on a bed of its own. The traveler’s kits and extra clothes were neatly packed within their sleeping quilts. The apothecary’s small medicine chest, the one he assembled for emergencies on the road, was tucked under the driver’s bench. The elder Fat assessed their absence at three days and left a sign on the shop door indicating the time of their return.
The autumn of the year, though clear and sunny, carried occasional chills from the coast that caught one in midbreath like the stab of needles. These cold currents became more persistent as the travelers neared Monterey Bay. The sun was but a few degrees from the horizon when the rickety village of Point Alones came into sight. It looked even more fragile with the sun setting behind the spindle-legged shanties.
By now the Pacific winds had mastered a northern bite that had both men wearing their black quilted topcoats. With youthful compassion, Sing Fat had even stopped the cart long enough to blanket the mule against the ocean chills as well. The apothecary just rolled his eyes and contemplated the full moon rising in the east. It seemed genuinely propitious, to his way of thinking. He felt confident the marriage-contract negotiations might well be concluded the following afternoon. Given one extra day of modest celebration, they could be back at work by Tuesday afternoon at the latest.
Sue May Yee and her aging father-in-law were quite surprised to find the venerable apothecary standing at their door with his arms full of gifts. Sing Fat, as instructed, moved the cart out of the wind behind the shanty and stayed with the precious cargo. He was prepared to camp out under the shelter of its canvas cover for the duration of their visit.
He felt so unsure of himself that at first he didn’t even bother to unhitch the mule in case his suit was spurned out of hand. He couldn’t think why such a thing should happen, but he was prepared for that eventuality, painful as it would be.
The elder Fat, as tradition dictated, had promised to make all preliminary introductions to the subject of marriage. If there should be an instant refusal to the proposition, at least the prospective groom would not lose face publicly. Once the subject had been entertained seriously, and if the future bride acquiesced to the arrangement, then the blushing groom could be introduced into the company and generally made great sport of for his callow understanding of what lay in wait for his future.
Eventually the prospective groom and his sponsor would distribute gifts and pour wine to seal the verbal contract. The more formal acknowledgments would be made the following day in the presence of what few relatives Sue May Yee could claim. Then the rest of the gifts would be given, and wine would be generously poured out to all.
Hopefully, the intended couple might share a few words, but they would have to steal the time since such things were not customary. In such confined quarters it was to be expected that they would exchange little more than furtive, shy glances.
Sing Fat had made himself comfortable upon a quilt laid out on the straw in the bed of the cart. The laced-up canvas covers kept him from the wind and the curious gaze of neighbors. The one thing he did not possess at that moment was peace of mind. He would have given anything to know what was happening inside the house. On second thought, perhaps not.
Sue May Yee or her father-in-law might have assembled embarrassing objections to the match. What if her relatives refused to let her leave Point Alones? Could he move here and take up the life of a fisherman or squid broker? The idea made him ill. He gestured a magic sign against the demons of self-doubt and tucked himself down for a nap.
Sing Fat awoke with a start at the sound of someone knocking on the side of the cart. He cautiously lifted the canvas and looked over the lip of the cart to see Sue May Yee’s father-in-law smiling up at him by the light of a lantern.
His toothless mouth formed a few words that were lost on the wind, and then he waved for Sing Fat to follow. Once dismounted, Sing Fat cupped his hand to his ear. Old Jong Yee said that he had called cousin Choo to look after the mule. Cousin Choo’s son would unload the cart at once. Sing Fat was to enter the house and attend to his master’s counsel. Jong Yee nodded and, talking to himself mostly, praised the wisdom and skill of Master Chow Yong Fat as though Sing Fat had never met the man before. Cousin Choo and son appeared out of nowhere and began unharnessing the mule and leveling the cart with a yoke brace.
When Sing Fat had straightened his clothing and brushed the few wisps of straw from his coat, he entered the house and was surprised to find only the elder Fat occupying the front room. He sat on a cushion at a low table illuminated by little brass oil lamps. When Sing Fat entered, his teacher indicated a cushion to his right and then placed a finger against his lips to caution silence. Confused at first, Sing Fat sought out his mentor’s eyes and received a confident nod and a smile. The scales of dark foreboding fell away, and Sing Fat could perceive the very marrow in his bones throb with delighted expectation. But where was everyone? Had he done something inappropriate already? The elder Fat would not let his eyes be drawn away again.
The front door sailed open with the force of the wind, and there stood Sue May Yee’s father-in-law. He entered with a swift bow followed by the Choos, father and son. Each was burdened with brimming baskets of neatly wrapped packages that they deposited and arranged at the far end of the room where they would remain secure, but on display for all to see.
It required two trips to unload all the groom’s gifts. The Yee clan was duly impressed by the generous abundance just as the elder Fat had said they would be. So far, all was progressing according to the oldest traditional protocols, regardless of the strained and humble setting.
Meanwhile, Sing Fat was prompted by his mentor to sit quietly, eyes cast to a small bowl of wildflowers on the table as if meditating on the beneficence of nature’s symmetry. He was advised, at all costs, to remain detached from the present for the sake of modesty. Sing Fat felt confident he could hold that mental posture and was coasting along rather nicely until Sue May Yee entered from the next room looking like the Princess of the Jade Moon, despite her simple garments.
Sing Fat couldn’t take his eyes from her, and his resolve to remain aloof from the situation dissolved like sugar in hot tea.
From under Sue May Yee’s long coat emerged the serene figure of the white cat. When her mistress knelt on a cushion set near the stack of gifts, the white cat took on a formal pose at her knees like a guardian temple lion. Through half-closed eyes the animal stared directly at Sing Fat with a feline expression that bordered on implied criticism. Sue May Yee straightened her posture, clasped her hands on her lap, but never raised her eyes to the room.
The position she occupied was purposely set to indicate symmetry. The p
rospective bride on one side, the groom’s gifts on the other. In the eyes of the world, the value of the gifts brought honor to the family, but at the very bottom stood the ancient abstraction of barter. The estimated benefit of one counterbalanced the worth of the other, and thus one resolved upon a fair medium of exchange.
The insensitive formality of negotiation made Sing Fat uncomfortable. All he desired was to look into Sue May Yee’s gentle eyes and know that the proposed marriage was something in which she could find favor. But she would not meet his gaze. It was a matter of respect and tradition, he knew, but it made him uncomfortable not to be able to speak with her. He desperately wanted to know her heart’s voice on the matter. His self-confidence sorely needed a leg up, but it seemed he was to be left hanging for some time to come. Only the elder Fat knew how the cards were spread, and he wasn’t talking just yet.
Eventually Jong Yee returned to the table, bowed to both his guests with a broad nervous smile, and shakily poured out Sing Fat’s gift of golden rice wine. Conversation was kept to topics superficial or humorous, and no mention of the fate of the nuptials was even broached. In a short while they were joined by cousin Choo and Sue May Yee’s youngest brother-in-law, Jong Po Yee. More wine was poured and more light conversation exchanged. All the while, Sue May Yee knelt on her cushion and communed silently with her elegant cat. Everyone ignored her presence just as they politely ignored the stack of wrapped parcels arranged opposite the kneeling girl.
Two weathered fishermen arrived. They were both cousins of Sue May Yee’s father-in-law and, though well advanced in years, proved to be rather sprightly gentlemen with very active imaginations. They held sway over the company with wonderful tales of sea dragons and shipwrecks.
Down to a Soundless Sea Page 23