Despite the Angels (50 page)

Now in the dark she knew it could not be as she dreamed. She could not hide the baby all day and all night, she must work, in the house and in the fields. One day, there would be an accident. And then she would be free to have a son. A son she would love, of course, but bought with his sister’s blood. No. Her mother-in-law was a forceful woman, but TieJuan would show her what real strength was. She eased herself slowly from the bed and though her husband sighed and turned over, he did not wake. Treading as softly as she could, she dressed warmly, for the nights were bitter in the winter. Then she gathered up the baby’s clothes and put them in a small bag, which she wrapped with her daughter inside two little blankets and a quilt. She lifted the bundle and eased herself out of the room and into the kitchen. Laying the baby on the packed earth floor, she reached up to the decorated box in its place on a high shelf and helped herself to a small sum of money, not enough to attract attention. Then with the baby once more in her arms, she tiptoed out of the house.

The chilly air outside made her gasp and for a moment she felt faint, but she took a deep breath, even as she pulled the quilt over the baby’s face. As the cold air hit her lungs, she felt her strength return and her resolve strengthen. She murmured reassurance to the dog, whose tail wagged twice before he drifted back to sleep. Then she was out of the farm, onto the track leading towards the village. TieJuan set herself a steady pace, not too fast, so that she would be able to keep it up and not become exhausted. Luckily the birth yesterday had not been particularly difficult, she was not too tired or sore. She trudged on, walking more gently when she reached the village and avoiding the gateways where she knew there were good guard dogs. One did smell her and stood up, stretching, his chain rattling, but she was soon past and no one was alerted. She almost smiled at the idea of someone stopping her. After all, she was solving the problem for her family, not committing a crime.

She walked on and on. The night was dark and overcast and it took all her concentration to keep to the road as it wound through the fields. After two or three hours she came to the bigger road, which ran straighter, between the two big towns. She hesitated, wondering which way to go, which town would be safer, or better. She had never been to either, as far as she knew. There was nothing to help her decide. She looked into the bundle in her arms and whispered “where would you like to live, my little one?” and after a moment was surprised when the baby turned her head and opened her eyes. TieJuan could just make out their gleam, as though she was looking towards the east, to the right. So TieJuan set her face that way, whispering again, “I hope you’re right, my precious little one.”

“Oh, she’s right,” said Mohmi. “I told her. We know what we’re doing here. You would have forgotten even if we had been able to tell you.” Mohmi smiled at TieJuan’s guide, who was so close he was almost surrounding her. He smiled back and blew a kiss onto TieJuan’s head
. TieJuan strode confidently along the road, her second last decision made. She was careful not to think too far ahead, she was just enjoying the feel of the bundle in her arms and the scratch of the cold air in her nostrils.

The baby began to wriggle and fuss, so TieJuan, glad of an excuse to stop for a while, moved to the side of the road and sat down, unwrapping the baby a little and loosening her own clothing so she could offer a breast. This was only the third time she had done this and it was still a wonderful novelty. She felt the baby’s mouth searching and helped her, then they both settled to the suckling. It was over soon, there was no milk yet. As TieJuan prepared to turn the baby and offer the other breast, the clouds above parted and a sudden flood of silvery light engulfed them. The baby looked up at the white disc above and gave a little cooing sound, her first utterance that was not a cry. TieJuan laughed and kissed her.

“You have named yourself, little one” she said, looking down at the beautiful face with unusually pale brown eyes fringed with thick lashes, eyes that were still looking up at the moon. “You are ShengYue, Song of the Moon. I have nothing else to give you, but I can give you a name.”

“So we come full circle, my friend” said Mohmi, “Even your name is right!”  The baby gurgled and Mohmi could hear her thoughts clearly–‘yes, but a lot could still go wrong’.  Mohmi answered soothingly, “It won’t, it’s all going fine. Relax.”  The baby closed her eyes and concentrated again on feeding.

The winter dawn was just breaking as TieJuan carried ShengYue into the outskirts of the town. People were stirring but the streets were still quiet. On one corner a noodle seller was setting up his stall and TieJuan realised she was hungry. Even more, she was thirsty. She had not thought to bring any water with her as she crept away from the farm. She approached the man, feeling for her money.

“Can I buy some water?” She felt suddenly very tired, now that she was standing still and she swayed. The noodle seller indicated a crate. “Sit down and rest. In a few minutes I can sell you some tea.” He looked at her, his shrewd eyes taking it all in. “You have come a long way, so early.” He did not seem to need a response, so TieJuan stayed silent. “And the baby’s mother?”  TieJuan hesitated. “Dead, I suppose. Terrible. It happens and then the baby must go to the baby home. Such a shame. So many girls with no mothers.” He handed TieJuan a cup and she bent her head, allowing the delicious familiar smell soothe her fraying mind. He knows, she thought, I am not the first. Other women have had to do what I must do. The idea was comforting for a moment and then the scale of the tragedy seemed so huge she could not stop the tears of fear and loss that streamed down her face. She tried to wipe them away on her sleeve and looked up at the noodle seller, who was sipping hot stock off a spoon, checking its flavour.

“Her name is ShengYue.”  The noodle seller looked down, surprised.

“A pretty name. Her mother’s choice for her?”

“No” said TieJuan “she chose it herself, when she sang to the moon.”

“They might change it, in the baby home, unless you tell them. How will they know?” He looked at her kindly and then rummaged through his things. He pulled out a piece of paper, the label from a sack of noodles, which had a fairly clean blank side and the stub of a pencil. “Here– write it for her.”

TieJuan was embarrassed. “I do not know all those characters,” she said. “Do you?”

“I think so. I’ll try.” He licked the tip of the pencil and wrote carefully, his tongue protruding from between his teeth as he formed the shapes.

“There. I think it says ‘my name is ShengYue’” he said as he handed her the paper. She opened the quilt bundle and tucked the paper against ShengYue’s tiny chest.

“Thank you,” she said to the noodle seller, “it will make it easier for me. It is a tiny thing, all I can give her.”

The noodle seller looked thoughtful and said nothing for a moment.

“Her guide looks more upset than they usually do and I’ve seen some,” said the noodle seller’s guide to Mohmi, nodding towards TieJuan’s guide, who was wrapped round TieJuan, stroking her hair and murmuring to her.

“Yes, it’s a slightly different story,” said Mohmi, “TieJuan had agreed in spirit that she would take a life where her baby could die, that she wanted to experience a severe loss. But we discovered recently that we need a baby, so her guide agreed on her behalf that she would give this baby away, rather than let it die. Harder for her, much harder. A dead baby’s story is finished, an absent living one could haunt her always. Her guide feels it will be an even more useful experience for TieJuan, but I think he’s feeling guilty just now, for putting her through this. I’m glad you’re here.”

“We’re always here, or somewhere like this. My man hears me pretty accurately now, he’s such an old soul. He’s just in this life now to help others. It’s fun to watch him, after millennia of having to get him out of tight corners.” The noodle seller’s guide glowed the soft deep purple of a wise old soul and he leant forward to whisper to his human.
The noodle seller looked at TieJuan and his crinkled eyes were unnaturally bright. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it and then reconsidered.

“It seems to me that you are giving her more than that. A lot more. Forgive me if I am wrong, but I think you are giving her life. Twice.” He turned back to his pot of bubbling stock and stirred it, avoiding TieJuan’s eyes. She watched, her mind empty.

“In my day, we could have all the children we wanted. I have two daughters and a son,” said the noodle seller. “I love them all.” He scooped up a handful of dry noodles and dropped them into the stock, along with two pieces of chicken. TieJuan watched as the pot bubbled and the noodles rolled to the surface. She watched blankly as he scooped them out and into a bowl which he handed to her. She looked at the noodles and meat in the fragrant broth and thought it was the most wonderful meal she had ever been given. Her hunger overcame her and she ate quickly, draining the bowl and handing it back as she fumbled for her money. The noodle seller waved her hands away.

“No. No charge. It is my gift. And here is some water for later.” He handed her a small plastic bottle. “If you pass later in the day, come back. There are always noodles.” He smiled at her and at the baby. “Goodbye, ShengYue. May you always be as lucky in life as when you chose this mother.” He turned away abruptly and TieJuan found herself thanking his back as he started to deal with his first customers.

TieJuan walked away through the streets. There were more people about now, all busy, pushing this way and that. She had no idea where to go. She walked on, putting some distance between herself and the noodle seller, feeling it was safer not to leave too clear a trail. Not that anyone will want to follow, she thought sadly. No, my husband will want to, but will not try to. He is too obedient. He will wait for his son. She was struck by a terrible thought. Would she have to make this journey again, with another daughter? Would she have the courage, twice? Oh, please, no, she thought, please let me have a boy next and enjoy his little hands and his searching mouth.

“You will, do not worry. And Mohmi will watch this baby for you. It will be all right.” Her guide again wrapped his energy around her and held her tight. “Now forget that thought and go on.”

TieJuan went up to an old woman who was sweeping her doorway and asked for directions to the baby home. This time there was no interest, no sympathy, but a fairly clear set of instructions. It was not too far.

The sun was shining feebly onto the low walls of the orphanage when TieJuan rounded the corner opposite. She could hear babies crying and childish voices talking shrilly. Through an open door she could see a line of tiny children sitting on a bench, waiting for something. They looked well fed and not unhappy. Still, she hesitated, wondering what exactly to do next. Then, one of the tiny girls saw her and toddled down the passageway towards her, saying ‘Baby?’ and pointing at ShengYue.

“Yes” said TieJuan, with more resolve in her voice than in her heart. “A baby for you,” and she kissed her daughter and laid the bundle just inside the open doorway, at the toddler’s feet. She turned and walked away quickly, trying not to look back, but at the corner she turned and saw that the little girl had squatted down and was stroking the quilt, squeaking ‘My baby! My baby!’ until a woman came to the door and picked up the bundle. She looked out of the door, up and down the street, but TieJuan moved out of sight, watching with just one eye until the nurse carried ShengYue into the darkness of the house. Then TieJuan walked away, starting the long trek back to her village and saying to herself over and over, “I am going to have a baby, I am going to have a son,” hoping that the repetition would make it true.

The heat in the nursery of the orphanage was oppressive on this summer afternoon. Many babies lay listlessly in their cots, their little heads sweaty. Some of the older ones were sitting up looking around and one or two had toys that they were waving in the air, delighting in the noise when their unplanned movements caused a crash against the bars of the cots.

“Look at you ShengYue! Are you trying to beat your way out?” A nurse had come into the room with a pile of washed laundry which she was now putting on shelves. She smiled at the babies and the little girl she had addressed waved her arms again and grinned.

“You are happy today! Maybe today is your lucky day!” The nurse bent down and kissed the little head, which had a mop of slightly wavy hair. Then she moved on, talking in turn to the other babies.

“She’s right, ShengYue. It is your ‘lucky’ day- or will be if you keep smiling!” Mohmi was there beside the cot, playing with the baby, waving her arms, encouraging ShengYue to copy her. When the baby mimicked her correctly she congratulated her with great enthusiasm
and ShengYue cooed and gurgled.

“My, you are cheerful today,” said the nurse.

“We both are, we have high hopes!” said Mohmi. The other babies’ guides were quiet, knowing nothing was planned for them today, but enjoying Mohmi and Moonsong’s happiness.

“Well, let’s get you all cleaned up before the visitors arrive,” said the nurse, as she started to undress and change one of the babies. She worked steadily, changing each child, talking a little to each one, but efficient and almost brusque all the same. She was just putting the last baby back into its cot and was leaving the room to start preparing the next feeds, when she heard a car pull up outside. She scampered off down the stairs.
Mohmi followed
and ShengYue strained to see where she had gone, feeling suddenly alone. Her little mouth began to pucker and her lip to tremble.
Then Mohmi was back and with her was an old friend.