by Carol Jones
Lit only by moon and stars, the stone archway loomed over her waiting brothers. Her twin was watching patiently as Elder Brother paced up and down, a frown marring his normally placid face.
‘I can’t find her anywhere,’ she said, eyeing him with concern.
‘Daaih Lou combed the mulberry groves near the village and I checked her family’s wormhouse. Nothing but a bunch of hungry worms,’ said her twin, ‘and not as many as expected, come to think of it.’
The Mo twins exchanged glances. Had disease struck the Yee worms? Or hadn’t they kept back enough cocoons for hatching this season? Neither possibility made for a promising return on their mulberry leaves… unless of course they had sold yet another plot of land. But speculation was beside the point, with Siu Wan missing and Elder Brother looking ready to explode.
‘What if the Long-hairs snuck into the village while everyone was celebrating?’ he said, ceasing his pacing for a moment. ‘What if she has been snatched away? I would never forgive myself.’
Everyone knew that the Long-hairs kidnapped girls to service their unspeakable needs. They also stole youths to fill their ranks of rebels and bandits. But her twin gripped his brother’s shoulder and led him over to a stone bench beneath the banyan trees, urging him to sit, saying, ‘Every dog in the place would bark if bandits entered the village, Daaih Lou. We would have heard something.’
‘You’re right. But if bandits didn’t take her… where is she?’ He sank his head in his hands, covering his face.
Little Cat met her twin’s eyes again, relaying a silent message. She wondered if he knew more than she did, if their brother had confided in him. ‘Siu Wan is upset that her parents are secretly arranging a match for her,’ she ventured.
‘There’s nothing secret about it. By now the whole village knows that a matchmaker has been called in,’ Elder Brother sighed.
‘Have you spoken to our parents?’ her twin asked.
‘Father knows Siu Wan and I are… fond of each other. He has broached the matter with her father, but it’s no use. Yee has received a good offer. A much greater bride gift than we can afford. Plus her mother thinks it best that she marry out of the village so…’
So… both her brother and her friend were doomed to unhappiness, unless they could find a way to change their elders’ minds, and in her experience elders’ minds were less malleable than a slab of granite.
‘I promised her I would find a way to fix things, but now she has disappeared and I don’t know where to find her.’
She glanced up at the faded decorations above the gate, where a river of blue wound through a painted village, just as their own river cradled Sandy Bottom Village in one of its bends. Except, with the recent summer rains, their river no longer meandered gently around the village. Its waters swelled to the very brim of its banks, threatening to overflow onto the path. One misplaced step could sweep away the unwary.
She cleared her throat before uttering the words she suspected none of them wanted to hear. ‘If she wasn’t feeling well, perhaps she wandered down to the river to get some peace and quiet. Perhaps she fell asleep under the willow trees. That is all.’
‘We’ve searched everywhere else,’ said her twin, his hand still resting reassuringly upon his brother’s shoulder.
Little Cat did not mention the thought that crept upon her like a winter shadow. They had all heard the stories of girls who donned their finest clothes, roped each other’s hands together and in the darkest hours of the night, threw themselves into rivers. Surely Siu Wan would not do that? Yet despite her reticence, her brothers turned as one and set out at a brisk pace in the direction of the river, so that she had to run to keep up.
All three were breathing hard by the time they reached the riverbank at the edge of the village, where houses gave way to mulberry bushes. Ahead, Little Cat could see a stand of willow trees silhouetted in the moonlight. The willows grew on a mound that formed a low cliff at the river’s edge. Here the river bottom shelved steeply, creating a deep pool where people came to fish for carp, shaded by the curtain of drooping branches.
‘I think I see her,’ she said, pointing in the direction of the willows, where a slight figure stood far too close to the cliff edge. ‘Best not to surprise her.’
‘What is she doing? I promised her I would find a way for us to be together,’ Elder Brother murmured, before striding out so that his two siblings could only hurry to catch him up.
As they drew closer, Siu Wan sensed their approach. She turned her head in their direction without moving her feet. Her face appeared waxen in the moonlight and devoid of all recognition.
‘Wait! Wait for me!’ Elder Brother called as he kicked off his straw slippers and raced towards her, Little Cat and Second Brother doing their best to keep up with him. But the girl under the willow trees paid him no heed. She turned back to face the river, stepped out from the cliff top in one graceful leap and dropped like a stone into the water.
Little Cat’s heart plummeted with her, but there was no time to blame herself for not taking her friend’s misery seriously enough, for being too caught up in her own concerns to realise what she was planning. A moment later, Siu Wan reappeared, bobbing up and down in the swollen river. She flailed about, arms beating futilely at the water so that Little Cat wasn’t sure whether she struggled to stay afloat or to propel herself beneath the dark surface. Whatever her intent, she was in imminent danger of going under permanently.
‘Daaih Lou! We must go where the river takes her,’ she shouted, changing course and heading directly for the lapping waters, downstream from where Siu Wan had entered the river, trusting that her friend would be borne along by the current for at least a little longer. If ever the Seven Sisters heeded her prayers, it needed to be now. ‘I don’t care about husbands,’ she bargained as she ran, ‘but please save my friend.’
At least her brothers listened, turning to sprint across the path, over the lip of the grassy bank and splash straight into the river where sandy bottom gave way to churning water. The fact that neither of them could swim didn’t seem to enter their heads. They were too busy living up to the names their father had bestowed upon them, always strong and always brave. Except sometimes it was better to be smart rather than strong or brave.
She jumped in after them, sand sucking at her feet as she called, ‘Goh Go, take my hand! Take Daaih Lou’s hand in your other one!’ If she could just brace herself here where the river was at its most shallow, perhaps her brothers could strike out far enough to reach Siu Wan as she was carried past by the current.
She closed her eyes, whispering, ‘Please, Weaver Girl, take pity on two young lovers.’
She felt her hand swallowed by her twin’s fierce grip then, opening her eyes once more, she watched as he stretched out his long arms to capture Elder Brother’s hand before his feet no longer scraped the bottom. All the while, she waded forward, cold water swirling around her waist, searching the river for the small, bedraggled bundle that was her friend, and begging Weaver Girl’s aid.
*
Amidst the noisy celebrations, Young Wu felt suddenly alone. It was an uncomfortable feeling. All around him, his friends and neighbours were enjoying themselves, yet he might as well have been standing by himself in the middle of the clan hall. One minute he was assuring his great-uncle’s widow – whose only son had sailed for Gold Mountain three years earlier and had not been heard from since – that he would come and mend her roof, and the next he just knew that Ah Yong and his twin had disappeared from the hall.
How he knew he wasn’t sure, but as his skin prickled all over, he realised that all evening he had been aware of their presence. Until he wasn’t. Not surprising with Ah Yong – for he was a head taller than most of the others – yet he always sensed where his friend’s twin was too. And now both twins were gone. He told himself there was no reason other than this uneasiness, to leave the celebrations and wander through the village looking for them. And when he heard a female cry drifting
from the direction of the river, there was no other cause for alarm, other than concern for his friends. There was no reason for the swift surge of panic in his blood. And the tight feeling in his chest was simply too much fatty goose. Nevertheless, he followed the cry to the riverbank.
At first he wasn’t sure what he was witnessing when he arrived. Figures moved through the water, like a sinuous worm in the moonlight. He blinked, trying to get a fix on the sight, for admittedly he did not see so well in the distance, especially at night. Through narrowed eyes the vision appeared for all the world like a human chain, snaking through the churning waters of the swollen river.
‘I can’t go any further!’ he heard Little Cat’s voice gurgling above the rush of wind and water.
‘Let me go!’ shouted her brother. ‘I can’t reach her!’
A pale shape drifted towards the chain. It was less than two body-lengths distant, but it might as well have been an ocean.
‘I can’t, Daaih Lou! We will lose you too,’ he heard Ah Yong shout.
As he watched the furthest figure struggle to be free of the chain, understanding dawned. The Mo siblings were trying to save someone being dragged downstream by the current. Little Cat was their anchor, but she was being towed out of her depth by the power of the river and the desperation of her eldest brother to reach whoever was drowning. In a moment either the river or Ah Keong would have their way and Little Cat and both her brothers would join the drowned. Stolen from this life – his life – by the river.
He had barely completed this thought when he found himself knee deep in water, splashing towards Little Cat, deeper and deeper until the river was lapping at his chest. He grabbed her hand, dug his toes into the sand, and shoved her out into the stream.
‘Go!’
Almost immediately his arm strained as he struggled to stand firm while the river surged around him. He watched Ah Keong flail forward, as the body drifted a mere hand’s-breadth away from him. So close, yet not nearly close enough. His heart hammering, Young Wu released his toes, bobbing for a moment in the water, before touching the bottom again, the river forming a cold collar around his neck. He hoped it would be enough.
‘I have her!’ shouted Ah Keong.
There was no time for celebration. Wu felt himself being dragged forward by the current and the pull of the Mo siblings. Digging in his heels, he edged backwards. His arm was being ripped from its socket and he felt Little Cat slipping from his grasp. He held tighter, crushing the bones of her hand as he fought the river’s current and the dragging weight of the human chain that would haul them all to their doom. Sliding through wet sand, he inched backwards, defying the river’s might. One small step. Then another. Until the water no longer threatened to engulf him.
Instead it flowed around him, like any other island stranded in its midst.
8
They sprawled on the riverbank, laid out like a row of fish to dry. For several minutes no one spoke. Perhaps their words, like their hearts, were too waterlogged. Little Cat snuck a look at Siu Wan from beneath wet lashes. Her friend lay face down on the grass; head supported by her arms, tendrils of hair snaking down her back like riverweed. Sodden clothing clung to her slender limbs. Elder Brother lay beside her, barely a finger’s-width separating them, as if he dared not hold her, yet could not bear to be separated.
When a tremor quivered through Siu Wan’s body, he reached an arm across her shoulders, to quell the motion with the pressure of his hand. Little Cat didn’t know whether her friend shivered from cold, or the enormity of her escape. For escape it had to be. She could not deny that Siu Wan had thrown herself into the river, for she had seen it with her own eyes, but surely she hadn’t been in her right mind when she stepped off that cliff. In her misery, she had forgotten herself.
If she had been in her right mind, then she had chosen a watery death over family, friends and future. This was something that Little Cat couldn’t understand. Surely there was always a way forward? Surely, no matter how grim the beckoning future, there was a way to make it bearable. To find purpose. She couldn’t believe that her friend had lost all courage. And the thought that made her saddest of all was that Siu Wan had been bereft of hope, and she hadn’t even noticed.
‘Good thing it’s a hot night, or we might catch cold.’ Young Wu’s voice rippled into the silence like a flat stone in a pond. She had forgotten about him for a moment too, forgotten that he had appeared at her back, just as the river seemed likely to drag them all to their deaths.
‘Thank the gods,’ she spluttered, ‘that we do not sneeze.’ She might have thanked him if he weren’t so annoying. He was probably too foolish to realise the danger they had faced. Why else would he wade neck deep into a swiftly flowing river at night? And what was he doing down by the river when the festival was on the other side of the village? He should have been listening to flower drum songs and scoffing roast goose with his Wu cousins. Instead he had waded into trouble alongside the Mo siblings.
Sometimes she felt like each time she turned around he was there, trailing after her brother like a starving dog. In any case, her reply silenced him. As for the rest of them, Little Cat fancied that no one knew what to say. How could words mend her friend’s despair or her brother’s heart? What use were words in the face of duty? Their elders had ordained their lives. So they lay on the riverbank, staring up at the night sky and contemplating their narrow escape in silence. If only the Sky God could beam help down from the heavens.
After a long while, Second Brother heaved himself up to sit cross-legged saying, ‘Siu Wan is well now, Daaih Lou?’
‘She is very cold.’
Perhaps he longed to hold Siu Wan in his arms and warm her shivering body with his own, but with others watching, he dare not.
‘I can warm her,’ said Little Cat, sliding closer to her friend’s other side and pressing up against her. Although Siu Wan had been immersed in the river only fractionally longer than she, her skin was icy, as if the river had drained all qi from her body. ‘Come back to us,’ she whispered as she rubbed her friend’s skin briskly, trying to generate heat.
Gradually, warmth returned to her body and her shoulders began quaking as she sobbed quietly, her head still cradled upon her forearms.
‘I’m here,’ said Elder Brother. ‘I’ll always be here.’
‘But I won’t be here with you,’ said Siu Wan, her words muffled by tears and grass. ‘I’ll be far away in some other man’s house. I can’t bear it, Ah Keong. I can’t bear to live without you. I would rather be dead.’
‘You don’t mean that!’ said Little Cat, terribly afraid, given the circumstances, that she did. It was hard to believe that her big brother, who rarely said more than two words at a time, inspired all this emotion. Who anyone would think had nothing on his mind but the care and feeding of silkworms or whether there would be fish again for dinner. How had he inspired such devotion in the prettiest girl in the village?
‘And how will I live if you’re dead?’ His voice teetered on the verge of anger but Little Cat wasn’t sure with whom – Siu Wan, their parents, or the entire world. She couldn’t blame him for any of those.
Momentarily Siu Wan ceased sobbing and sat up to stare at him. With her long wet hair and pale bloodless face, she could have been a water spirit, intent on dragging them all down into the river’s depths. But she wasn’t. She was only Yee Siu Wan. Her friend. She was only a lost girl.
‘How would I go on, knowing that I couldn’t save you?’ Elder Brother added.
‘I didn’t think of that.’
‘Should I throw myself in the river too? Or should I hang myself from the willow branch that dangles above your watery grave?’
Little Cat suspected that the willow wouldn’t bear her brother’s weight, but the sentiment was certainly solid. She could feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes and a lump swelling in her throat. She hadn’t known her brother had such poetry in him.
‘Is that what you want?’ he asked.
/>
‘Never.’
‘Then we will find another way.’
As they spoke, the two had somehow sidled closer so that they sat with hips touching. Elder Brother curled his arm around Siu Wan’s back, his head bowed, so that his straggly chin rested upon her shoulder, his nose breathing in her wet hair. They looked hopelessly sad, yet desperately happy at the same time. If love could make you this muddled, thought Little Cat, it was better avoided.
‘Betrothals can be broken.’ Young Wu startled them, his voice jarring the night air. ‘Excuses can be made. The priest might find that the happy couple’s birthdays are incompatible. That the marriage would be inauspicious.’
It was true that this sometimes happened, although the family reneging on the betrothal would have to compensate the offended party. Handsomely, of course.
‘The wedding will be several years away yet. Anything could happen between now and then,’ he added, nodding with the pomposity of a fifth-ranked scholar.
‘Anything… such as what?’ asked Second Brother.
‘Such as a more attractive offer.’
Silence descended once more as they digested this piece of information. A more attractive offer? How could Elder Brother make a better offer when Yee had already rejected the Mo family’s best offer?
Elder Brother lifted his head from Siu Wan’s shoulder, sitting to attention. ‘We don’t have the funds to make a better offer.’ His voice was heavy as a drum above the soft slap of the river.
‘We could find the funds,’ said Second Brother, springing to his feet in a burst of enthusiasm. ‘We could find them on New Gold Mountain.’