Chinese Cinderella (13 page)

‘Is Jackie making any progress?’ Father asked.

‘It’s hard to judge because I see Jackie every day,’ Niang answered. ‘I certainly
hope
Jackie is learning something because Mr Herzog has raised his fees again! My driving lessons are now cheaper than Jackie’s obedience lessons.’

‘Since it’s so hot tonight,’ Father suggested, ‘why don’t we all cool off in the garden after dinner? It will also give us a chance to test Jackie’s obedience.’ He turned to Big Brother. ‘Go fetch one of those ducklings that the Huangs brought. We’ll have some fun tonight!’

There was a momentary silence. To us children, Father’s announcement was like a death sentence. Immediately, I had a picture in my mind of my pet being torn to pieces between Jackie’s frothing, ravenous jaws. I felt as if my heart had stopped beating. I held myself rigid, in a world full of dread, knowing with absolute certainty that the doomed duckling would be mine.

Big Brother scraped back his chair, ran upstairs and came down with PLT. Everyone avoided looking at me. Even Aunt Baba could not bear to meet my eyes. Father strode into the garden with PLT on his palm and sat down on a lounge chair, flanked by all the grown‐ups. We children sprawled in a semi‐circle on the grass. Jackie greeted his master joyfully, wagging his tail and jumping up and down with happiness.

Father released PLT and placed her in the centre of the lawn. My little pet appeared bewildered by all the commotion. She stood quite still for a few moments, trying to get her bearings: a small, yellow, defenceless creature beset with perils, surrounded by humans wanting to test their dog in a gamble with her life. I sat stiffly with downcast eyes. For a moment, I was unable to focus properly. ‘Don’t move, PLT! Please don’t move!’ I prayed silently. ‘As long as you keep still, you have a chance!’

Jackie was ordered to ‘sit’ about two metres away. He sat on his hind legs with his large tongue hanging out, panting away. His fierce eyes were riveted on his prey. Father kept two fingers on his collar while the German Shepherd fidgeted and strained restlessly.

The tension seemed palpable while I hoped against hope that fate could be side‐stepped in some way. Then PLT cocked her head in that achingly familiar way of hers and spotted me. Chirping happily, she waddled unsteadily towards me. Tempted beyond endurance, Jackie sprang forward. In one powerful leap, he broke away from Father’s restraint and pounced on PLT, who looked up at me pleadingly, as if I was supposed to have an answer to all her terror.

Father dashed over, enraged by Jackie’s defiance. Immediately, Jackie released the bird from his jaws, but with a pang I saw PLT’s left leg dangling lifelessly and her tiny, webbed foot twisted at a grotesque angle. Blood spurted briskly from an open wound.

I was overwhelmed with horror. My whole world turned desolate. I ran over without a word, cradled PLT tenderly in my arms and carried her upstairs. Placing her on my bed, I wrapped my mortally wounded pet in my best school scarf and lay down next to her. It was a night of grief I have never forgotten.

I lay there with my eyes closed pretending to be asleep but was actually hopelessly awake. Surely everything would remain the same as long as I kept my eyes shut and did not look at PLT. Perhaps, when I finally opened them again after wishing very hard all night, PLT’s leg would miraculously be healed.

Though it was the height of summer and Aunt Baba had lowered the mosquito net over my bed, I was deathly cold; thinking over and over, ‘When tomorrow comes, will PLT be all right?’

In spite of everything, I must have dozed off because at the break of dawn, I woke up with a jerk. Beside me, PLT was now completely still. The horrors of the previous evening flooded back and everything was as bad as before. Worse, because PLT was now irrevocably dead. Gone forever.

Almost immediately, I heard Father calling Jackie in the garden. He was preparing to take his dog for their customary Sunday morning walk. At the sound of Jackie’s bark, Aunt Baba suddenly sat up in her bed. ‘Quick! Take this opportunity while Jackie’s away! Run down and bury your pet in the garden. Get the big spade from the tool shed at the back and dig a proper hole.’ She handed me an old sewing box, placed PLT’s little body inside and closed the lid.

I dashed out of my room and almost collided with Big Brother, who had just come out of the bathroom in the hall.

‘Where are
you
going?’ he asked, full of curiosity. ‘And what’s that you’re carrying?’

‘I’m going to the garden to bury PLT.’

‘Bury her! Why don’t you give her to Cook and ask him to stew her for breakfast instead? Stewed duck in the evening and stewed duck in the morning! I love the taste of duck, don’t you?’ He saw the look on my face and knew he had gone too far. ‘Look, that was a joke. I didn’t really mean it. I’m sorry about last night too. I didn’t know which duckling to pick when Father gave me that order. I only took yours because you’re the one least likely to give me trouble afterwards. It wasn’t anything against you personally, understand?’

‘She was my best friend in the whole world . . .’ I began, tears welling up in spite of myself. ‘And now I’ve lost her forever.’

Halfway down the stairs, I heard Third Brother calling me from the landing. ‘I’ve been waiting to go to the bathroom but I’ll be down in the garden as soon as I can. Don’t start without me.’

The two of us stood side by side, dug a hole and buried PLT under the magnolia tree with all its flowers in bloom. After that day, I was never able to smell the fragrance of magnolia blossoms again without the same aching sense of loss. We placed some grains of rice, a few worms and a little water in a shallow dish along with a bouquet of flowers in a milk bottle by PLT’s grave. We bowed three times to show our respect. I cried throughout the ceremony.

Third Brother tried to comfort me. ‘It won’t be like this forever.
Suan le!
(
) Let it be! Things are bound to get better. You’ll see. Sometimes I can’t wait to grow up so I can find out what we’ll all become in twenty years’ time.’

‘Thanks for attending PLT’s funeral so early in the morning,’ I murmured as I looked down at the bandage on my left wrist. So much had happened since Jackie bit me yesterday. ‘It’s Sunday and everyone in the house is still sleeping. I don’t know why, but I feel as if it’s the two of us against the world. Whatever happens, we must never let them win.’

Chapter Twelve

Big Sister’s Wedding

F
ather and Niang continued to travel to Tianjin on business. Sometimes they took Big Sister out of school to accompany them. Everyone wondered why. Did Father need Big Sister’s translation skills? It soon turned out Niang had other ideas.

During the Chinese New Year holidays in 1948, Niang’s plans came to light. On Sunday afternoon, Big Sister came into my room after lunch. Aunt Baba, Ye Ye and I were playing cards. She sat down on Aunt Baba’s bed and told us that Father and Niang were lunching at the posh Cathay Hotel with guests from Tianjin. Dr Sung was Nai Nai’s doctor and used to live next door to us. His son, Samuel, had recently returned from America and was looking for a job. Big Sister wouldn’t play with us but kept doodling Chinese and English words on a sheet of paper. I leaned over and saw that she had scribbled Mrs Samuel Sung (in English and Chinese) over and over about thirty times. Then she told us Father and Niang had introduced Samuel to her, and she had agreed to marry him. She was smiling as she related this and appeared quite pleased, but I felt sad and frightened for her.

I thought to myself, Big Sister is only seventeen years old and Samuel is already thirty‐one, almost twice her age. When I get to be seventeen, I sure don’t want to be taken out of school to marry someone I’ve just met! Especially when he is so much older!

How can Big Sister remain so cheerful when her life is about to take such a ghastly turn? To be taken out of school and thrust into the arms of a stranger! No more classes! No more schoolmates! No possibility of ever going to college! Not even a high‐school diploma! How devastating! What did Niang say to induce Big Sister to agree to such a fate? Why is she going along with it?

Is this going to happen to me too? I’ll simply have to run away from home if Niang ever threatens to force me into an arranged marriage. But where can I go? Who will take me in? There must be millions of unwanted Chinese girls like me in Shanghai!

I imagined Niang introducing me to a strange man and ordering me to marry him. The thought filled me with horror and fear.

Weeks before Big Sister’s wedding, gifts started arriving at our house. Niang carefully sorted them out and kept the best ones for herself.

Three days before the wedding, Grand Aunt personally entrusted a special small package wrapped in gold foil for Aunt Baba to hand to Big Sister. On opening the elegant leather case in Aunt Baba’s room, Big Sister found a lovely pendant made of antique imperial green jade hanging from a heavy gold chain. She immediately put it on and gasped with pleasure while she admired herself in the mirror. Then she begged Aunt Baba and me not to mention Grand Aunt’s gift to a soul, obviously intending to keep the pendant without telling Niang.

The wedding was a formal and brilliant affair with a banquet for five hundred in the grand ballroom on the ninth floor of the Cathay Hotel, situated at the junction of the Bund and fashionable Nanjing Lu and overlooking the Huangpu River. The room was filled with masses of fresh flowers, and the Chinese character for double happiness was outlined in red blooms against the wall. Big Sister was elegantly dressed in a beautiful pink qipao and silver shoes while Samuel wore a tuxedo. Two professional radio comedians acted as masters of ceremonies.

I had nothing to wear but an old pink qipao that had been handed down by Big Sister when she grew out of it. Though I didn’t look particularly nice, at least I didn’t stand out and no one noticed me. My three older brothers, however, were having a horrible time. For this special occasion, Father ordered them to have fresh hair‐cuts. My brothers’ heads were shaved cleanly so not a trace of hair remained. They were wearing identical, dark‐blue, traditional, long Chinese robes with high collars and cloth buttons. As soon as they stepped into the foyer, I saw some boys their age pointing at them and snickering behind their backs. When they entered the main ballroom, one of the boy‐guests who recognised them from St John’s immediately called out to another across the room. ‘Hey! It’s kind of dark in here. Thank goodness three light bulbs have just walked in. With them around, there’s no need for lamps.’

‘Naw! Those aren’t light bulbs! They are enlightened, that’s all! Those are three new monks who have seen the light! They’ve taken the vow of chastity and abstinence. From now on, they’ll eat tofu only.’

Everyone doubled up with laughter. I cringed on behalf of my brothers.

Their dilemma was compounded because all the other guests were so fashionably dressed. Men and boys wore dark, Western suits. Women were bejewelled and in silk qipaos or formal Western gowns. Fourth Brother had his hair cut in the latest page‐boy manner. He looked very smart in a brand‐new navy jacket with sharply creased matching trousers, white shirt and neck tie. Little Sister wore a frilly red‐satin dress with ribbons in her hair and jade bracelets on her wrists.

Towards the end of the banquet, I went to the toilets. While I was inside one of the cubicles, I heard one woman remark to another about the different treatment received by Father’s two sets of children from his two wives. Immediately afterwards, two other women entered. They were chatting and laughing and I recognised Grand Aunt’s distinct Ningpo accent. I was about to emerge and greet her when I heard the other woman answer. It was Niang.

A chill went down my spine. I felt guilty though I had done nothing. I kept as still as a mouse and dared not move. The longer I stayed, the more impossible it became to come out.

Grand Aunt was complimenting Niang on her jade ring, telling her it had the same translucency as the jade pendant she had asked Aunt Baba to hand to Big Sister as a wedding present. In a few sentences, Niang had already found out everything without revealing she had been kept in the dark about the gift. Hearing this, I was more nervous than ever and stayed motionless in my stall until long after they had left.