My Splendid Concubine

by Lofthouse, Lloyd

  The old man never did say what happened to his family. The one time he asked, Uncle Bark fell silent. Robert assumed he’d lost his family and the pain was too much. He didn’t ask again.

  Usually Uncle Bark joined them for the evening meal inside the cottage. After eating, he returned to his boat. On the trips up-and-down river, Robert sat out of the sun under the sampan’s shelter while the old man stood on a plank in the stern under the relentless glare of the sun and rocked the boat with his oar like paddle.

  In the mornings, there was always a package of food wrapped in paper for Uncle Bark. Robert suspected that was what Ayaou paid him. He’d do little more than fish during the day but was always waiting to take Robert home. He liked Uncle Bark. There was an indescribable internal peace the old man carried with him. It was as if he had gathered all the pain from his life and tossed it into the river so the current carried it away. He reminded Robert of a Taoist, or at least what he understood a devotee of Taoism to be like. Uncle Bark had been born on a boat. He would probably die on one.

  Robert’s Chinese lessons with Master Tee Lee Ping had moved on from the Dao Dee Jing to the Tao Te Ching, which had eighty-one chapters and used about five thousand Chinese characters. Since Robert only knew a few hundred characters, the lessons had slowed to a painful pace. He was forced to expand his written Chinese vocabulary and was determined to succeed.

  That morning, he had paused in front of the mirror to straighten his bow tie and felt unhappy with his curly thicket of hair, which made him look like a wild beast. He envied the Chinese their straight hair and wished there were a way to iron out his curls.

  “What is wrong?” Ayaou asked, as she came into the room.

  “My hair,” he said. “The barbers don’t know how to cut it.”

  “Barbers?”

  “They don’t cut it the way I want. It’s either too short, or they leave too many curls.”

  “Robert, your hair is fine. Just leave it alone.”

  “I agree,” Shao-mei said. Robert’s eyes went to her stomach. She was huge—more than huge, gigantic. The baby could arrive any minute. Maybe she carried twins. However, the Chinese doctor said there was only one, and it was going to be big because of Robert’s dragon seed. How could the doctor know all that by just holding her wrist? The man could be wrong.

  “I dream about having curly hair.” Shao-mei fluffed up her straight hair and twisted the long strands into curls. “If I could trade with you, I would.” When she let go, her hair fell like a sheet. “Our baby boy will have curly hair like yours. Everyone will be jealous.”

  It was probably true the baby would be born with curls, because Payne Hollister had more curls than Robert. “Get the scissors, Shao-mei,” Ayaou said. “I will fix his hair.” Shao-mei ran off and came back with scissors.

  “Have you ever-cut hair before?” he asked.

  “As the oldest daughter, I cut everyone’s hair in the family.” She pulled over a stool and had him sit on it. He lost sight of himself in the mirror. Shao-mei stood on the tips of her toes and walked around him getting excited. Ayaou started cutting and large clumps of hair fell on his shoulders, lap and floor. He wondered when she was going to finish and had visions of ending up bald.

  “Oh my, Ayaou,” Shao-mei’s voice went low. “Are you sure of this? I can see the scalp in places.”

  “What?” Robert jerked upright

  Ayaou pushed him down. “Sit still. I almost cut your ear off.”

  “No! I’m going back to the barber!”

  “If you keep frowning like that,” Ayaou said, “you are going to age and have lines like rivers on your forehead.”

  “Oh, Ayaou, look what you’ve done to the back of his head!” Shao-mei said, making a hissing sound.

  “Stop teasing him, Shao-mei. Do you see what you are doing? He is puffing up like a pigeon and ruffling his feathers.” After a few more cuts, Ayaou brushed the hair from his shoulders and stepped back. “Done. You look wonderful.”

  When Ayaou went to the kitchen to get the broom, Shao-mei whispered, “Did you know that every Lunar New Year, our Aunt Grass bought each of us a moon cake filled with sweet red beans? Well, if we did not eat fast enough, Ayaou snatched them from us and gobbled them down. She got away with it the first year. After that, we learned to eat faster. Our younger sister, Lan, never learned. She wanted to make her cake last. She hid it under some clothing and daily took one small bite. Ayaou kept hunting for the hiding place if she knew there was some left.” Shao-mei smiled causing her dimples to go deeper?”See what I mean. You should not have trusted her.”

  He went to the mirror and saw a Chinese man. Ayaou had thinned his hair so much the curls had disappeared. When Ayaou came back and wanted his comment, he said it was innovative. He didn’t tell her he was unhappy with it.

  “What does innovative mean?” she asked.

  “It’s a great haircut.” He lied.

  When Robert went outside to get into Uncle Bark’s sampan, the old man looked at his head and grunted. “Good haircut,” he said. “You will be cooler on hot days. Put your hat on. You do not want the sun to burn your scalp.”

  Robert’s chin was resting against his chest when he awoke. He jerked his head and wiped drool from his mouth. He’d fallen asleep. He was working too many hours and not getting enough rest. The first thing he saw when his vision cleared was Uncle Bark working the sampan’s oar propelling the craft upriver toward the cottage. Robert had been dreaming about the haircut from that morning. He smiled. This time his dream had been pleasant.

  “What do you think of this, Uncle Bark?” he asked. He launched into one of the Tao’s six passages. “The Valley Spirit never dies. It is named the Mysterious Female. And the doorway of the Mysterious Female is the base from which Heaven and Earth sprang. It is there within us all the while; draw upon it as you will, it never runs dry.”

  The sampan was turning off the river and into the creek leading to the cottage. Uncle Bark stared at Robert. He saw that the old man was thinking about his reply. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, something unusual caught Robert’s attention. He saw smoke billowing into the sky about where the cottage was situated. Alarmed, he left the shelter and stood.

  Uncle Bark followed Robert’s gaze and noticed too. He started to row harder. There was the sound of a shotgun blast.

  “Hurry!” Robert said. Grabbing a long pole from the bottom of the boat, he thrust it into the shallow creek and pushed to speed the sampan along. His mouth had gone dry. He was sure the smoke was coming from the cottage. “Oh my God!” he said.

  Robert put down the pole and checked the loads in his pistol. When the sampan came into sight of the dock, there was a long flat-bottomed boat already there with two men in it. The boat looked like it was full of loot from the cottage. The two men had their backs to the sampan and didn’t see it.

  He heard Uncle Bark mumble a word that sounded like pirates. Then the sampan rammed into the creek bank where it stuck in the mud. The old man grabbed his machete and leaped ashore.

  Robert saw movement behind the thick bushes and trees. He lifted the pistol and aimed at the two in the flat-bottomed boat. One of the pirates turned and revealed a heavily pockmarked face. When he saw Robert, the man’s eyes widened in shock. He grabbed for a musket. Robert was faster and fired a shot into his chest. The pirate flipped into the water.

  The second pirate jumped out of the boat and ran toward the cottage yelling warnings. Uncle Bark stepped from behind a tree and used his machete to split the man’s head as if it were a melon. The body stumbled forward a few more steps before sprawling face down.

  Reloading the pistol, Robert advanced on the cottage.

  Three men broke from behind the burning building and charged. Uncle Bark took off running to meet them. Robert stopped, took careful aim and shot one man in the face. Uncle Bark collided with the second man, who must have been fifty years younger than him. Uncle Bark’s arms were like corded hemp. He slapped the other man�
��s sword aside and cut him across the middle disemboweling him. The third man turned and fled. Robert fired a hasty shot at his back but missed. An eye blink later, the man was out of sight.

  Uncle Bark and Robert arrived at the cottage. It was engulfed in roaring flames. The old man grunted and pointed at the pistol. Robert reloaded while the old man stood watch with the machete and his eight-inch fish knife.

  A scream sounded up creek. Both Uncle Bark and Robert ran toward the sound. The old man moved ahead of Robert in a burst of speed. His arm whipped back and forward in a blur. The fish knife left his hand. Then he ran between two trees and leaped out of sight like a wild deer.

  Robert had to force his way through the thick brush and stumbled on a man trashing about. Uncle Bark’s eight-inch fish knife was protruding from his throat. The pointed end of the blade was showing through the back of the man’s neck. The pirate’s eyes were bulging and blood bubbled from his mouth.

  Robert reached down, grabbed the knife and pulled it from the dying man’s throat. For good measure, he twisted the blade on its way out. The man waved his arms and lifted his head off the ground. Robert placed a foot on the man’s chest and held him down. With a sucking sound, the blade popped free.

  When Robert caught up with Uncle Bark, the old man was standing over Ayaou’s prone body. The old man was holding off four men with his machete. Robert took up a position and fired. The brains of the first man he shot splashed into the face of the man behind him. The other three ran off. Robert stopped beside Uncle Bark and handed him the bloody knife.

  “Ayaou!” Robert got down on his knees. He pulled her into his arms. She felt like a rag doll. There was no sign of blood. She looked pale. He put his ear to her chest and felt relief when he heard her heart.

  “Ayaou,” he said. “Where’s Shao-mei?”

  “Come, Robert, the fight is not over,” Uncle Bark said. “The pirates might come back. Reload that weapon and bring Ayaou with us. Let us move!” He ran off.

  Robert’s hands shook as he reloaded the pistol. He took hold of Ayaou again. She opened her eyes. They were empty as if someone had poured the life out of her. Her lips moved, but Robert couldn’t understand her. He leaned down and put his ear next to her mouth. “Go find Shao-mei,” she said. He jerked upright at the sound of a shot from the direction of the creek. Then someone was screaming. Uncle Bark only had the machete and the dagger.

  Pulling Ayaou to her feet, Robert attempted to follow Uncle Bark. She held onto his arm and was like an anchor. Letting go, she took a few steps in the opposite direction. He turned to follow and saw her bend and pick up the shotgun. It had been hidden in the brush. “Go find my sister!” she said, and fumbled in her pocket and brought out a handful of shotgun shells.

  “I can’t leave you here.”

  “I have this.” She shook the shotgun. Before he left, he made sure she had reloaded.

  When Robert found Uncle Bark, the old man was battling a giant who stood a foot taller than him and weighed a good two hundred pounds more. The man was pounding at Uncle Bark’s machete with a cutlass. He was driving Uncle Bark to his knees.

  Robert ran up behind Uncle Bark and shot the pirate in the chest. The giant staggered back with blood pumping out of his chest like a geyser. Robert fired two more shots into his heart. The giant collapsed to his knees, swayed back and forth and fell like a tree.

  “The others are escaping.” Uncle Bark wiped his forehead with the back of a hand. His thin shirt was soaked in sweat and blood. It was plastered to his skin.

  Ayaou appeared from the creek. She was walking like a drunk. Robert caught her and took the shotgun. He handed it to Uncle Bark. “Can you use this?” he asked.

  The old man nodded. With Ayaou leaning against Robert, they walked toward the cottage.

  Fear of what he might find curdled Robert’s thoughts. As the cottage appeared, he stopped and said, “Keep Ayaou here.” Uncle Bark nodded. The old man’s head swiveled around taking in everything as he searched for danger. The barrel of the shotgun pointed where his eyes looked.

  With every step Robert took toward the cottage, his legs and arms grew heavier. Tongues of flame danced from the windows, and the heat beat at him. If Shao-mei was in there, he thought, it was too late. Keeping a safe distance from the fire, he circled behind the cottage. His steps faltered when he saw Shao-mei.

  A violent shiver went through him. A cry of agony stuck in his throat. He stumbled forward three more steps and stood over her with the air sealed in his lungs. He had to struggle to keep breathing. His knees gave. He collapsed next to her. A sob escaped.

  She was on her back with her belly slit open. His sweet Shao-mei and the child he wished had never happened were both dead. The guilt he felt doubled him over. He rested his face against her cheek. She was still warm.

  Ayaou came with Uncle Bark supporting her. When she saw Shao-mei, she screamed, broke free and stumbled to her sister’s side.

  All the signs looked like Shao-mei had been raped repeatedly before she’d been murdered. The markings in the leaves made it obvious she’d put up a fight.

  He heard the sound of insane laughter from the direction of the creek. Leaping up, he ran. Uncle Bark followed. When Robert reached the water, he saw the flat-bottomed boat drifting toward the river with several men in it. The laughter was coming from the man standing in the boat’s stern. He was dressed in bright-red pantaloons. A dark forest of hair covered his bare chest.

  When Robert recognized him, blood rushed to his head bringing rage with it. Reason fled and hate drove him into the water. He plowed after the boat. Once he closed the gap, he saw the hole in Ward’s face. The mercenary looked into Robert’s eyes. Ward’s teeth flashed and his tongue snaked in and out of the wound like a fat, mangled, blood sausage.

  “She was always mine, Hart,” the grotesquely scarred face said.

  Robert’s gut felt as if he had swallowed ground glass. My God, Ward believed he had killed Ayaou. The bastard had killed the wrong girl.

  “I’ve collected what belonged to me!” Ward laughed as if he were insane. “I fucked her good! She was juicy—a hot bitch! This is what you get when you steal from me! The reason I’m letting you live is so you will pay for the rest of your life for cheating me of the virginity that was rightfully mine.”

  Robert raised his weapon and started firing. Tears blinded his vision. His arm shook so hard he couldn’t aim. His shots went wild. He still managed to hit one of the men, who fell from the boat to float face down in the water. Another man raised a musket and aimed it at Robert. Ward shoved the barrel down. It fired into the creek. Ward cursed, and said, “I don’t want him dead. I want him to burn in hell with me.”

  The shotgun blasted from behind Robert as Uncle Bark fired both barrels. They were wasted shots. Ward’s boat was out of range. Robert continued to wade into the creek until the water was to his chin. He kept cocking the pistol and pulling the trigger on empty chambers. Then Uncle Bark’s arms came from behind and wrapped around him. Robert thrashed about screaming. He wanted to go after Ward and rip his heart out. With an effort, Uncle Bark dragged him back to shore.

  Ward’s boat drifted out of sight, but his insane laugh stayed behind lingering in the hot air. Robert hated himself for missing the monster.

  He tried to break loose and run into the creek again, but two pairs of arms held him now. Ayaou had joined Uncle Bark in restraining him. He continued to yell until his throat was raw.

  They were back in Ningpo before midnight. Shao-mei had been wrapped tightly in a fishing net from Uncle Bark’s boat. They carried her through the gloomy, shrouded streets inside that net. They went straight to the Ningpo house and put her on a table in the center of the room where Robert had taught her poetry.

  “I must clean my sister and dress her properly,” Ayaou said. “She would not want to be seen like this.” She started to unwrap Shao-mei from the net. There was no emotion in her eyes. She was in shock as he was.

  “No,” Robe
rt said. “Uncle Bark, take Ayaou upstairs.”

  Ayaou struggled. “I have to do my duty.”

  “It can wait until morning,” Uncle Bark said.

  “Her body will be hard by morning. It will be difficult to dress her. She might break.”

  “Morning is close. It will be all right.” Uncle Bark guided Ayaou upstairs. She went without protest.

  After he was alone, Robert pulled the net from Shao-mei’s body. Uncle Bark had wrapped a blanket around her ripped and torn torso to hold her together. The baby was still inside her under that blanket. Robert didn’t want to know what gender it was so he left the blanket where it was. Guan-jiah would ask, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t know if he could tell his servant what had happened. He’d ask Uncle Bark to do it.

  He pulled over a stool and sat next to her. He looked into her glassy, open-eyed stare. He expected her to turn and look at him, but she didn’t. He closed her eyelids and caressed the side of her face. The second he touched her, he jerked his hand back. Her flesh was stiff and cold and felt as if it were rubber. There was no life. She was gone. He had not allowed himself to believe it was true until that moment.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and the sound caught in his throat. He leaned down and rested his face on her chest. “I loved you. I never told you. I should have.” He would never hear her laugh or sing or recite poetry again. He couldn’t stand it. He avoided looking at her face and took off his jacket to cover it.

  He stood beside the table and stared at the shrouded body, and said, “I don’t want to say goodbye.” Then he fled into the kitchen where he stayed until sunrise. He was afraid that if Ward found out Ayaou was still alive, he would return to finish what he started.

  It was morning when Ayaou sewed Shao-mei’s wound shut. She washed her and dressed her sister in white for the last time.

  Two days later neighbors and relatives came to mourn. Ayaou’s father, Chou Luk, was one. He took the news as if it were his fate. He remained outside the room. He didn’t want to see Shao-mei.

  “She was a sunny girl,” Chou Luk said. “A good daughter.”