Amah brought a tray with cups of hot water. We hadn’t been able to buy tea for a long time. She set the tray on the rosewood table. As she turned to leave, she tried to assist Auntie Boxin with her chair, but Auntie Boxin pushed her away. I knew Auntie Boxin was still mad at Amah. She hadn’t talked to her since the silver was stolen.
Isabella thanked Amah, reached for a stool, and sat next to her mother.
Auntie Boxin turned to my father and asked, “Have you heard anything new?” She didn’t even apologize for interrupting. My brush made a big blob on the paper.
“No, there’s been no change. The Chinese army is trapped in the interior. The Japanese control the cities. We hear gunshots or explosions sometimes from outside the city. Those must be attacks by the Eighth Route Army. They seem to be the only ones fighting the Japanese.”
Auntie Boxin coughed and held the handkerchief to her mouth. Isabella put her arm around her mother’s back until she quieted. “Do you want some tea, Mother?”
“Yes, please.”
Isabella poured a cup of hot water and handed it to her mother, and then she turned to Mei-mei.
“Did we interrupt your story, Mei-mei?” Isabella asked.
“Yes. Gretel is eating a house.” Mei-mei sounded like her own meal had been interrupted.
“Oh, Hansel and Gretel! My father used to read that to me. When I was in Denmark with him, we went to see the opera.”
“You saw the opera Hansel and Gretel?” Ma exclaimed, shifting both Weilin and Mei-mei at her side and turning toward Isabella.
“Why, yes, it’s quite popular in Europe.”
“I love that music, especially the evening prayer that Hansel and Gretel sing when they’re alone in the woods.”
“Oh, yes!” Isabella clapped her hands in front of her chest. “My father and I used to sing it before I went to sleep.”
“Could you sing it now?” Ma asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Why not?”
“It will bring back such memories of my father.”
Then Isabella closed her eyes and pressed her hands together as in a prayer and began to sing in a soft voice:
When at night I go to sleep
Fourteen angels watch to keep
Two my head are guarding.
Two my feet are guiding—
“What are angels?” Mei-mei interrupted. “Are they like the Lady in the Moon?”
Isabella stopped singing and laughed. “No. You can’t see angels, but they are always nearby. Angels protect you, keep you from harm, and sometimes help you when you’re in trouble.”
“Oh,” said Mei-mei. “I’m always in trouble. I hope I have lots of angels.”
“I’m sure you do,” Isabella assured her.
“May I sing it with you?” Ma asked.
“Of course!”
Isabella continued the song and Ma joined in.
“Two are on my right hand,
Two are on my left hand,
Two who warmly cover,
Two to wake at dawn do hover,
Two to guide my steps to heaven!”
“It makes me sad. I remember hearing you singing with your father at bedtime,” Auntie Boxin interrupted. She touched one eye with her handkerchief.
My calligraphy lesson was finished. Auntie Boxin and Isabella had completely taken over. I wiped the brush and dropped it on the paper. There was no use in trying to concentrate anymore, so I got up and walked over to the window with my back to the rest of them. For the first time that day, I felt trapped inside. I stared out the window to the field beyond the wall, wondering when I could go outside again. Then I saw something . . . or someone.
“Stop!” I turned around. “Hide! Ma, hide quickly!”
Everyone stared at me, stunned. Isabella jumped up, knocking over the teacups, spilling water across my calligraphy. She rushed outside, leaving the door wide open with the cold air blowing in. In a moment she was back, standing at the door with the man I had seen many times before. The spy was standing at our door!
CHAPTER 16
I stared at the spy. I had seen him at Auntie Boxin’s house, running away after the robbery, at the ceremony in the dust storm, and last night in the moonlight, but I had never seen him up close. He was younger than I thought. He looked more like a student than a robber or a spy. He took off his cap and held it in his hands. His hair was full and thick. He raked his fingers through it, as if trying to look neat. He had a square chin and sharp cheekbones. He wore loose black pants and a jacket.
Isabella was flushed. She looked around the room. No one moved, then she spoke directly to Ma.
“Auntie,” she said, at first hesitatingly and then with boldness. “Auntie, this is Zhao Ren. He . . . he’s our friend. You see, he has been protecting you.”
“Protecting me?”
“What?” I shouted. “But he’s a spy!” I wanted to add, and a robber!
“What do you mean, Nini?” Isabella exclaimed, adding, “Well, he is a spy . . . in a good sort of way. But let me explain.” Isabella looked at Da, as if asking permission.
“Please, come in,” Da said to Zhao Ren. Isabella and Zhao Ren stepped inside and Da shut the door behind them.
“Here, have a seat,” Ma said, motioning to the sofa. She got up and moved to the other side of the room next to Da.
Weilin climbed off the sofa and walked over to Zhao Ren. I guess he wanted to see a spy up-close. Zhao Ren looked down at Weilin, then reached out his hand, and they walked to the sofa together.
Isabella and Zhao Ren sat down, with Weilin scrunched between them and Mei-mei scooting close to Isabella on the end.
I stayed near the window, keeping a distance.
“You see,” said Isabella. “Zhao Ren has been watching out for us.”
“Let me explain, Isabella,” Zhao Ren said in English. “Everyone, please, I feel I know you, but you don’t know me.”
“You see,” Isabella kept going. “He’s a member of the—” Auntie Boxin coughed.
Zhao Ren interrupted, “Let me explain, Isabella.” He seemed hesitant to say more and looked at me, then at Mei-mei.
Da must have guessed the cause of his hesitation and said, “It’s all right to speak in front of the children. They need to know too.”
“Let me start then by assuring you, Nini,” Zhao Ren began, “that I meant no harm to you or your family. I knew you saw me, but I couldn’t talk to you or tell you why I was there.” His voice was soft and kind, but I still didn’t trust him.
“Why did you steal Auntie Boxin’s silver then?” I asked.
“I didn’t steal the silver. I saw the robber run out of the house and I followed him. You must not have seen him and assumed I was the robber.”
Isabella interrupted this time. “Zhao Ren found out who the robber was. Later I learned our servant had let the robber into the house. They were both stealing the silver and other things. I told your father and he fired the servant.”
Zhao Ren looked at my parents and continued. “I have been watching you for nearly two years. I am part of . . . well, let me go back a bit. You see, when the Japanese attacked China, I was a student at the university. Many of my friends and professors left the city. I helped them pack up books—they took as much of the library as they could. They even took printing presses and equipment. They carried everything they could on their backs and in carts, carrying them over the mountains.”
“I know many people who left then,” said Da.
Zhao Ren went on. “They joined students and teachers from other cities and moved farther inland.”
“Yes. They moved to areas outside of Japanese control,” Da said.
“We call it the Free Zone. From there they sent information to the occupied areas—to those of us in the cities on the coast. I wanted to go with them, b
ut some of us had to stay here. We listen and watch and send the news we hear to them.”
“Yes, I know. That’s what I call the grapevine,” Da said. “It’s how I get information when I walk around and talk to people.”
“But that is not all,” interrupted Isabella.
“I’ve been watching out for your family,” Zhao Ren went on. “I stay informed of any threats and watch to see who comes around your house. I’m in touch with others in case there is trouble.”
Isabella blurted, “I am too, Mother. I am with Zhao Ren and the others. I, too, joined the underground resistance. We are secretly working against the Japanese to free China.”
“Isabella, how could you? It’s too dangerous. You could be killed! Why haven’t you told me?” Auntie Boxin protested.
“I’m sorry, Mother, I know I left you so many times and couldn’t explain where I was going. But I had to do something. When I was in Europe, I saw the Nazis taking over. I didn’t want the same thing to happen here with the Japanese. I was so distressed at what was happening. When I met Zhao Ren, well, he showed me how I could help and—” She looked at him with admiration.
“Let me explain further,” he said. “There is urgency now. The Free Zone is in crisis. The Allies have created a supply route into China through Burma, but the Japanese have attacked it, and no supplies are getting through now—no weapons or food. The peasants are exhausted. They have given everything they have to the army. I need your help now.”
“But how can we help? We have nothing, hardly any food ourselves,” Ma said with despair.
Auntie Boxin began coughing and couldn’t stop. Isabella looked distressed. “Do you want me to take you upstairs?” she asked her mother.
“Yes. I can’t—” Auntie Boxin tried to stand but slumped back into the chair.
Ma turned to me. “Nini, help Auntie Boxin. Isabella needs to stay here.”
But I wanted to stay and hear what else Zhao Ren had to say. I looked at Auntie Boxin hoping she would not insist. But she only coughed again, and Ma glared at me. Da helped Auntie Boxin stand and motioned to me. I grudgingly took her arm. She walked so slowly, oh, so slowly. Even Weilin could crawl up the stairs faster.
When we got to her room, she wanted to lie on her bed and asked me to stack her pillows to lean on. After I got her settled, I wanted to leave, but she grabbed my arm.
“Nini, I have one more thing to ask you.” She stifled a cough and held the handkerchief to her mouth. “Could you come read to me sometimes? The days get so long, and I will pay you—with books. I have some of my husband’s books in English. Will you come?”
“Of course, Auntie Boxin,” I agreed instantly because I was eager to get back downstairs.
“I am all right now, Nini. You may go,” Auntie Boxin rasped, and her head fell back on the pillows.
I quickly went back downstairs, but I was already too late to hear the conversation and found Ma agreeing to do something with Zhao Ren.
“You won’t need to go anywhere,” Zhao Ren was saying. “I will bring them to you.”
“But I have no textbooks,” Ma said.
“That’s all right. You can teach English conversation without textbooks. We need to be able to communicate.”
“Of course, I can. I wanted to help but I was afraid. What if—”
“Don’t worry. We will continue to keep close watch. I will send you students, one or two at a time. They will come in the evening, after dark. Gradually, I will send more. We have little money, but we can bring things you need.”
Ma replied, “Don’t worry about pay. I’m glad that I can do something.”
They talked a little more, then Zhao Ren went to the door and was gone as quickly as he had appeared.
As soon as he left, I asked, “Ma, how do you know that he’s not a spy and trying to trick us?”
Isabella spoke. “Nini, I know how you must feel. I felt the same way at first. Remember when I used to go out alone and wouldn’t talk to you when I came back? I was scared and fearful then. I didn’t know if I could trust anyone. After I got to know Zhao Ren and others who were resisting the Japanese, I felt I was a part of something, that I could do something.”
“But why does he want Ma to teach English?”
“At some point the war will end, and when it does, the Chinese will need to be able to communicate with their new allies.”
“Ma, do you trust him?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Nini. All he is asking of me is to teach English. If I can be helpful, I must trust him.”
In the next few days, the students started coming. One at a time, then two or three, always after dark. The younger ones, mostly college age, could speak English, but they couldn’t write it. The older ones, who went to school in years past, could read but couldn’t speak it. Ma used conversation at first, then created lessons for each one. I listened, but mostly I watched them. I wasn’t sure what to think.
This went on for several weeks. One day someone knocked at the door. I had the hiccups but went to open it, expecting students. It was Zhao Ren! As soon as I saw him, I hiccupped.
“I have just the thing for you,” he said and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small bag of something that didn’t look appetizing—small, dark, shriveled knobs with a white crusty coating. “Try it,” he said and held it out to me.
“No, thank you,” I said, hiccupping again.
He put one in his mouth and then smiled and held the bag out to me. “They’re good,” he said, “and they cure hiccups.”
I took one, uncertain about this shriveled thing with a white coating. The crusty surface melted into a sweet taste, and when I chewed, it was very sticky and chewy. He said it was a dried persimmon, but I wasn’t sure if I liked it.
“See,” he said.
“See what?”
“Your hiccups.”
My hiccups had stopped.
“Here,” he said, “have much.”
“Not much,” I corrected him. “More. Have some more.”
“You see, you’re a teacher,” he said. “Will you be my teacher?”
“Yes!” I said without hesitation.
Later, when I overheard Isabella and Zhao Ren talking, he used the phrase “going over the mountains.” I had a feeling that my time as his teacher would be short.
“How long will you be gone,” Isabella asked tearfully.
“For a while . . . I don’t know how long. Do you want to go too?” he asked Isabella.
“I want to, but I can’t leave Mother now.”
“I understand. I don’t think it will be long, and I will see you when I return.”
There was silence. I moved so I could see them, but they couldn’t see me. Zhao Ren wiped tears from Isabella’s cheeks, then embraced her.
“Of course,” she said. “I will wait for you. But you must . . . Zhao Ren, please be careful!”
CHAPTER 17
Winter 1944
I kept track of time by winters. It was winter when we were forced out of the water company’s apartment and moved into the mansion with Auntie Boxin. It was winter when we moved from Auntie Boxin’s to this house near the open field. This was the third winter since the Japanese took over, and still there was no end in sight.
The mud world we had built in the summer was long gone. I missed Zhao Ren. For some time after he left, the sweet chewiness of the dried persimmons reminded me of him, but even they were no more. Isabella had heard only once from him in the months since he left.
Ma’s students had to stop coming, and even Auntie Boxin and Isabella didn’t come downstairs after the three of us got the whooping cough. I had it first—just a runny nose and sneezing, then a fever that wouldn’t go away. I didn’t think much of it until I started coughing. Sometimes my coughing spells lasted so long that my face turned purple. I could
n’t catch my breath, and at the end of a spell, I’d breathe in so fast, it made a sound like whoop.
By the time I started coughing, Mei-mei started sneezing. Then Mei-mei coughed so hard she almost vomited, and Weilin got a fever. He didn’t whoop like we did. He just stopped breathing altogether, and then everyone would be in a flutter until, at last, he took a breath.
According to Amah, by the time a girl was my age, twelve, she should be taking care of younger ones, not making them sick. She scolded me, “Why did you give it to the little ones? You should have stayed away from the baby.” Weilin was three years old, but Amah always called him “the baby.” Amah yelled at me and cooed over Weilin.
Ma had to put us in quarantine. That meant no one could come to our house and we couldn’t go out. Da wasn’t even allowed to enter our room. We were quarantined inside our house, and our house was quarantined from the outside world. I felt that all of China was quarantined! No one was coming in or going out.
We couldn’t eat when we were coughing so hard, and we had no medicine. Ma was afraid we would die from not eating or drinking, so she tried to make us drink boiled water all the time. That was all we could take for days.
The day the quarantine ended for me, I stood by the window longing for something, for anything. I looked at the dull, gray sky, but it offered no sign of change.
I was well enough to go into the living room and be with my parents. Ma had stayed up during the night with Weilin and lay on the sofa with a damp cloth covering her eyes. Da was sitting on the arm of the sofa close to her feet. He was lighting one of the cigarettes he made from dried leaves and crushed nut hulls, while telling Ma about the Tans, a family that lived nearby.
“Mr. Tan says his wife has pains in her chest, coughing all the time, too tired to do anything. He says it’s pneumonia.” Da struck a match and little sparks snapped at the end of the cigarette as he sucked on it. When he blew out the smoke, he continued, “But I think it’s something worse. I’m afraid she’s got TB.”
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