Chinese Cinderella (5 page)

A few months later in early 1942. Winter‐time.

W
hen I started kindergarten at St Joseph’s French Convent School, Big Sister had been going there for years and years and was already in the fifth grade. She complained so much about having to walk me to and from school that Grandmother Nai Nai finally told Ah Mao, the rickshaw‐puller, to take us there and back.

Father had bought the black, shiny rickshaw three years earlier as a fiftieth birthday present for Nai Nai to visit her friends and play mah‐jong. It had inflatable rubber tyres, a brass lamp on each side and a bell operable by foot as well as by hand. Every morning, Ah Mao could be seen sweeping the seat, washing the sides, brushing the canopy and polishing the brass. My brothers were forever begging him to let them pull each other back and forth in the garden but Ah Mao was fiercely protective and would scatter them away.

Outside our garden, an old, blind and crippled beggar‐woman often sat on the pavement. As soon as Ah Mao opened the gate, she would bang her tin plate, tilt back her head and wail in a loud voice, ‘Have pity on me!’ Big Sister (Da Jie
) and I were both a little frightened of her. ‘Run faster!’ Big Sister would urge Ah Mao. ‘Get away from her as fast as you can!’

I was always happy when our rickshaw approached the imposing red brick building of St Joseph’s. I loved everything about my school: all the other little girls dressed in identical white starched uniforms just like mine; the French Franciscan nuns in black and white habits with big metal crosses dangling from their necks; learning numbers, the catechism and the alphabet; playing hopscotch and skipping at recess. My classmates made me feel like I belonged. Unlike my siblings, nobody looked down on me.

The school‐bell rang and it was time to go home. I rushed out of the classroom and ran straight towards Ah Mao, who was smoking a cigarette and squatting on his haunches between the handlebars of his rickshaw on the pavement by the school gate. He smiled as I approached and waved me into his cab.

‘I wonder how long we’re going to have to wait today,’ he grumbled as he lit a fresh cigarette.

I said nothing but I knew what he meant. It
was
annoying. Big Sister was always among the last to leave when school finished. She seemed to enjoy having her friends notice that her rickshaw‐puller and younger sister could be found waiting for her every afternoon while she took her own sweet time.

Today we waited even longer than usual. It was beastly cold and there was a sharp north‐westerly wind blowing. After a while Ah Mao wandered off to chat with a tea‐pedlar on the corner and warm his hands against the pedlar’s steaming kettle. My face, fingers and toes were numb with cold.

Finally, I saw Big Sister appear in the playground, laughing and joking with a few big girls from her class until the nuns shooed them out and locked the gate behind them. Big Sister scowled as she climbed in, while I shrank into my corner. She jabbed the bell angrily several times with her foot and called sharply. Ah Mao ran back, stepped between the shafts and off we went.

‘What did the nuns teach you today?’ Big Sister suddenly asked imperiously.

‘They taught us about God,’ I replied proudly. ‘I’m going to test you. Who made you?’

I was happy because I knew the answer. ‘God made me.’

‘Why did God make you?’

‘I don’t know, because Teacher hasn’t told us yet.’

‘That’s just an excuse!’ Big Sister screamed. ‘You don’t know because you are stupid! And you don’t deserve to wear this!’ Suddenly, she grabbed my medal and jerked it, becoming enraged because I was pushing her away. ‘Take that! Medal‐winner! Teacher’s pet! Who do you think you are? Showing off week after week!’ Big Sister cried as she slapped me with her strong right hand.

Ah Mao, who had stopped at a red light, turned around to look when he heard the slap. Big Sister nonchalantly straightened her uniform, ordering him to run faster because she was hungry. She told Ah Mao that Cook was making pot‐stickers and they were her favourite afternoon snack. As soon as we were home, Big Sister jumped down and ran off. Ah Mao helped me alight, pointed to my medal, smiled broadly, and gave me the thumbs‐up sign, shaking his fist up and down to signal his admiration.

* * *

I was winning the medal every week and wearing it constantly. I knew this displeased my siblings, especially Big Sister and Second Brother, but it was the only way to make Father take notice and be proud of me. Besides, my teachers and schoolmates seemed to be happy for me. I loved my school more and more.

Finally, it was the end of term. Our whole school was assembled in the auditorium for prize‐giving. The French Monsignor himself was waiting on stage to present us with awards. Mother Agnes suddenly called my name in front of everyone. She announced that I had won a special award for wearing the weekly medal for more weeks than any other student. My heart beat wildly as I approached the stage, but the steps leading up to the Monsignor were too high and steep for my short little legs. What should I do? Finally, I had no choice but to climb up to the stage on my hands and knees. Everyone was hooting with laughter and clapping wildly. Were they applauding me?

On my way back to my seat, I couldn’t help noticing that of all the prize‐winners, I was the only one unaccompanied by anyone from my family. Nobody was there to pat my head or congratulate me, not even my Aunt Baba. As for Big Sister, she had refused to go to school that day. She’d said she had a stomach‐ache.

Aunt Baba told me that Japan was a strong country which had conquered most of China, including the city of Tianjin where we lived. My three brothers were always grumbling about the Japanese classes they were required to take at school. We children were supposed to show our respect and bow whenever we ran past Japanese soldiers. Otherwise they would punish us or even kill us. Once, Big Brother’s best friend was kicked and slapped by a Japanese soldier because he forgot to bow when he ran past him. Another time, Ye Ye stopped Third Brother from kicking a ball made of old newspapers because a photo of the Japanese emperor was visible on its surface. Everyone hated the Japanese, but even the grown‐ups were scared of them. Now there was talk that the Japanese were demanding to become Father’s business partners.

Father looked terribly worried and his hair started to fall out. Many Japanese men in business suits came to the house looking for Father, even on Sundays. They came with Japanese bodyguards who wore surgical masks on their faces and carried scary‐looking bayonets with big, sharp knives at the tips. It was a great nuisance because we had to bow and show respect to anyone who looked Japanese. After their departure, Father would talk to Ye Ye for hours and hours, in their office.

One morning, Father left the house to buy stamps at the post office down the road. He never came home.

Ye Ye reported Father’s disappearance to the police. He put up posters and placed advertisements in the newspapers offering a reward for news of Father’s whereabouts, alive or dead. The Japanese came back a few times looking for Father but soon lost interest. With Father absent, his business ground to a halt. There was no more money to be made and the Japanese dropped their demands.

A few months later, our stepmother Niang took our younger brother (Fourth Brother) and left the house also. Nobody knew where they had gone. It was all rather frightening and very mysterious.

Ye Ye told us that Father, Niang and Fourth Brother had left for a while. After the strangeness wore off, we weren’t particularly bothered because Father often travelled on business. Besides, Ye Ye, Nai Nai and Aunt Baba were still home. The Japanese stopped bothering us. Life settled down and became tranquil, even happy.

Ye Ye employed seven maids, a cook, a chauffeur and Ah Mao, the rickshaw‐puller. The grown‐ups held frequent mah‐jong parties. We children could invite our friends home to play. On Sundays, Ye Ye took everyone out for drives in Father’s big black motorcar. We lunched at different restaurants in the foreign Concessions – French, Russian, German, Italian and Japanese. Sometimes, we even saw movies suitable for children! Life seemed better than ever.

Father, Niang and Fourth Brother had been gone for well over a year and I had almost forgotten them. There was a heatwave on and we were all in the parlour discussing the next day’s dinner menu. Aunt Baba suggested to Cook that we should have dumplings instead of rice for a change. Those yummy dumplings were stuffed with pork, chives and spring onions and were absolutely delicious! Big Brother shouted that he could eat fifty of them at one sitting. Second Brother immediately claimed sixty and Third Brother wanted sixty also. Big Sister ordered seventy. Big Brother told her she was already too fat. She screamed at him to shut up and they started to argue.

Nai Nai said, ‘What a racket! I’m getting a headache from all this commotion. It’s getting late. I’m going to my room to soak my aching feet.’ She turned to me. ‘Wu Mei! Run down to the kitchen and tell them to bring me a pan of hot water.’

I watched the maid pour the steaming hot water from a thermos flask into an enamel basin and followed her into Nai Nai’s bedroom. Nai Nai was sitting on the edge of her bed, slowly unwinding the filmy silk bindings from her feet. ‘Are you sure you want to stay here?’ she asked me. ‘Your Nai Nai’s feet are going to stink up this room as soon as I take these bindings off.’

‘Please let me stay!’ I begged as I squatted beside her on the floor. The truth was that I was fascinated by her tiny feet. It was like watching a horror movie: you want to see it and not see it at the same time.

I stared at Nai Nai’s toes, all deformed and twisted grotesquely beneath her soles. Slowly she immersed them in the pan of hot water, sighing with relief and contentment. She then rubbed them gently with a bar of sweet‐smelling soap until the whole basin was covered with lather. Aunt Baba came in and helped Nai Nai trim her thick toe‐nails and cut off pieces of dead skin. ‘See how lucky you are?’ Nai Nai said to me. ‘By being born at the right time, both you and your Aunt Baba didn’t have to go through the torture I suffered in having my feet bound. How I wish I could have just one day when my feet didn’t hurt!’

‘When Nai Nai was your age, she already couldn’t run or jump any more!’ Aunt Baba said to me. ‘And here you even get to go to school every day just like your brothers. You’d better run along now and go to bed! It’s way past your bedtime.’

After I left, Aunt Baba talked to Nai Nai for a little while longer. She then went to take her bath.

Fifteen minutes later, Ye Ye was pounding on her bathroom door. Nai Nai had fainted and was frothing at the mouth. Aunt Baba telephoned the doctor but it was already too late. Nai Nai had died of a massive stroke.

I woke up from a sound sleep and saw Aunt Baba sitting by herself at the dressing‐table and crying. I crawled into her lap and put my arms around her to comfort her. Aunt Baba told me that Nai Nai’s life had evaporated like an episode of a spring dream. Outside, I could hear the crickets humming in the summer heat and hawkers shouting their wares on the pavement below. How could everything remain so much the same when Nai Nai was no longer with us?

Nai Nai’s body was placed in a tightly sealed coffin in the parlour. Buddhist monks dressed in long robes chanted their mantras. Ye Ye ordered us children to spend the night and sleep on the floor in the same room to keep Nai Nai company. Third Brother whispered in my ear that Nai Nai was going to push open the coffin lid and wander out at midnight. I was scared and couldn’t sleep. All night, while listening to the monks praying and watching their shining bald heads in the flickering candle‐light, I half yearned and half feared that Nai Nai would crawl out and resume her place among us.

Next day, there was a grand funeral. Nai Nai’s coffin was draped with white sheets and placed on a hearse pulled by four men. We all dressed in white robes with white headbands for the boys and white ribbons for the girls. Big Brother acted as chief mourner in Father’s absence. Hired professional musicians extolled Nai Nai’s virtues. They tossed white paper coins into the air while making music and singing prayers. The hearse stopped six times for Big Brother to fall to his knees, kowtow and bewail Nai Nai’s loss in a loud voice.

At the Buddhist Temple, the monks held a solemn ceremony. Amidst hymns and the scent of incense, we burned sundry articles made of paper for Nai Nai’s needs in the next world. There were cardboard beds, tables, chairs, pots and pans and even a mah‐jong set. My brothers fought over a large paper car covered with bright tin foil. I watched the smoke curl up from the sacrificial urn and believed with all my heart that it would regroup somewhere in heaven into useful household utensils for the exclusive use of our Nai Nai.

Chapter Five

Arrival in Shanghai