The Tapestries (27 page)
One morning, she had gotten up earlier than usual. It was the day her husband and their son were leaving the citadel to lead a Harvest Moon Festival in a village called Cam Le. This journey was to combine an official obligation with a personal mission: her husband had indicated that the trip could be an opportunity to explore Bui's possible marriage to the daughter of the town's mayor.
The anticipation of happy news lifted her spirits, and Lady Chin decided to enjoy a break from her ordained duty. After returning home to bid her family good fortune on their trip, she would have time to join the emperor's third and fourth ranks of concubines in Doan Trang Tower for a table of mah-jongg. It had seemed perfect—an afternoon of continuous gambling, without a care in the world, and soon, to be acclaimed as a mother-in-law.
When the cannon's first boom announced the opening of the fortress, she was winding her way down a shaded path that separated two gardens, muttering to herself and touching her hair to smooth any tangles. “Bui,” she was rehearsing in a whisper, “because I am a woman and because of my higher duty, I cannot go with you on this trip. You will forgive my absence, won't you?” The wooden boardwalk beneath her feet had creaked approvingly.
Out of nowhere a brown shadow crashed into her. Before she could feel the wetness rushing down the front of her embroidered silk shirt, the rancid smell of urine exploded in her face. Lady Chin paused, covering her mouth in shock. The thought of her ruined garment brought anger flooding through her. She wondered how long it would take to run back upstairs and change. She had no time. In front of her, the old eunuch was on his knees. A copper urn lay on its side a few feet away.
“Old devil,” she shrilled. “Look at what you have done!”
His wrinkled face was hairless, and his eyes were teary. He shook his head and groaned, “Heavens, Heavens.”
Lady Chin pulled herself away. The putrid odor followed her. “How could you be so clumsy?” she asked. “Are you blind, old man?”
“I am very sorry, madam,” he said, clutching his hands together. “I did not mean to soil your beautiful blouse. Please do not raise your voice. If the Queen Mother heard about this, she would send me back into the eunuch's quarters. This job is all I have left. Please do not take it away from me.”
Lady Chin felt her anger dissipate into pity for the old man and panic over her wasted time. Stamping her feet on the wooden walkway, she strode away from him as fast as she could.
Three days afterward, she had been seated at the mah-jongg table when two soldiers came from the Ministry of Religion and Ceremonies. They were escorting a strange old man who introduced himself as Magistrate Toan, head of the Cam Le Village and the grandfather of the would-be bride.
She recalled his wizened frame, which seemed much too diminutive for the oversized headdress and loose-fitting attire he wore. His deep-set eyes under a thick layer of cataracts had projected an air of frailty. Whenever she thought of how much her life had changed since that fateful morning, she had to think of this man and the news he brought. To her, he was the devil's own messenger.
Years later, she could still taste the rancid horror in her mouth as she listened to the old man's grating voice telling her how her husband and son had been killed by a deranged peasant woman in the wretched village. Nothing could have prepared her for the shock. She realized that she was alone on this earth.
To this day, the magistrate had yet to answer her question, “Where is the criminal that shot my husband and son?” He had stood there, unaffected by her tears. When he grabbed her hand to express his sympathy, she had fainted. The iciness of his bony fingers was too much for her to handle. It was as if she were touching the hand of Death.
When she came to, guilt and loneliness pecked at her like the beaks of a thousand vultures. She was back in her room inside the Purple Forbidden City, while in the ministers' section, the bodies of her husband and son were being prepared for burial. It was late in the day, and the rain had just ended. She remembered seeing a rainbow arching into her window, like a viaduct from the world of the dead. Her family must be on its other side. She reached, sure she could touch the magical bridge with her hand.
The old eunuch huddled in a corner of her apartment. As if she had just awoken from a deep sleep and found that her snore was the reason for her wakening, she understood. He, too, must have seen the rainbow.
“Do not worry,” she said to him. “The dead are not coming for you. It is I that they want.”
She watched his mouth move, but the answer seemed to come from inside her.
No, madam…please step off the windowsill….
She reached for a handle in the open shutter. Her bare feet were teetering at the ledge. Six stories below, crawling among the red roofs decorated with ceramic dragons and phoenixes, the concrete pathway curved like the silver body of a python.
“Please, madam,” he said. “Do not jump.”
“Why are you here?” she asked, wanting him to disappear yet accepting his presence because she was terrified of being alone.
“I came to return your blouse.” He showed her the silk garment, washed and folded in his unsteady hands. “A thousand apologies to you. I got the stains out, and now it is just like new. Would you care to inspect it?”
“That will not be necessary. You may go now.”
“I do not want to leave you,” he said, taking her hand. His voice was calm and reasonable. “Come inside. Your world is here. You might find it cold and lonely, but you are not ready for departure yet.”
“You sexless old fool,” she screamed. “What do you know about the way I feel? I have just lost my husband and my son.”
He reached past her to close the shutter, and she heard his thin voice. “All I know is when the time comes, you will see them again.”
And with that simple philosophy, Ung had saved her life. The next day, he accompanied her to the funeral. Although she never saw her loved ones' bodies in death, the wounds the old magistrate had described remained in her mind as ugly images, magnified with each passing day.
R
ecognizing Ung, Lady Chin straightened up on her bed. She noticed the porcelain shards on the floor but made no effort to push them aside. Through the open door, the sandstone path was scattered with dried leaves, and the sky was a faded color of violet. The eunuch frowned as he stood at the top of the three steps. His fleshy nose was directed upward, and he sniffed as if testing the odor of her room.
She waved, and the old man clutched at his chest in dismay.
“Dear Heavens,” he cried. “You have terrorized my spirit out of its cage.”
“What is it, Mr. Ung?” Lady Chin asked, cracking a thin smile. “Have you seen a ghost?” Seeing the humorless expression on his face, she eased back in her seat. “Please, catch your soul and come in.”
“I have just returned from the Han Estuary,” he said. His hands moved through the air in a melodramatic gesture. “I went there to greet His Majesty upon his return. Two weeks of preparation for one of the most elaborate ceremonies since the Minister Albert Sarraut's departure a few years ago. Do you recall that party, with all the colorful carts and the streets covered in red rose petals and silver glitter? This fete, by far, has been even more beautiful, a triumph—Oh.” He stopped as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, and his mouth dropped. “Dear gods, I have not seen you for two short weeks, but, madam, how you have changed. How could this happen?”
“Why are you here, Sir Ung?” she asked. “Do you bring a message from Lady Thuc?”
He shook his head. “No, there is no message. I have just learned of your illness from a source in the queen's palace. I came immediately after talking with the royal physicians. They want me to report on your condition, since it has been more than ten days—” He fell silent, scratching his shaven head.
Her hands smoothed the bedcovers. “Well, you can give them the bad news,” she said. “I am still alive. Come back in a few days, and you shall find my dead body, ready for burial.”
There was a crunch from under his feet, and the ex-chamberlain jumped back. “Did I break something?” Seeing the fragments of porcelain shards on the floor, he bent to pick them up. “Has someone been bringing food to you, madam? “
She nodded. “A servant from the kitchen! I assume he was sent by the Queen Mother, but I am not sure.”
“It does not matter,” Mr. Ung said. “You have not lost your appetite, which means that the golden stream in Heaven is not ready to sweep you away. I must go and deliver the news to the infirmary. But I will come back soon, to take you out of this dreadful place. You got better just in time to join the celebration, because the emperor has arrived in Hue this morning. Oh, what a day it is! Seven long years we have had no king, while His Majesty was being educated in France. But now he is back, and so are you, my dear friend.”
He flung the door open. Lady Chin rose to her feet. “No, you will do no such thing. I am not getting better.”
He paused, and the enthusiasm drained from his face. She staggered toward him, feeling a cyclone of dizziness swirl inside her head.
The eunuch rushed to her side. She clutched the bedpost. “No,” she breathed. “I-I am not leaving. These are the apartments of peaceful souls. People come here to die.”
“But it has been ten days!”
“I am dying, sir, an extremely slow process. I know my body better than any physician. I do not want to trouble you or anyone else. Certainly, you would not want to bring the evil aura of death into the Forbidden City on this happy day, would you?”
The eunuch said nothing.
“Ah, the emperor has returned,” she said, changing the subject. “That explains the thumping noises of construction I have heard all week. Tell me, has His Majesty's appearance changed much after all the years he lived in France?”
The eunuch took a seat beside her. “No one at the palace has had the blessing to catch a glimpse of the imperial countenance since he assumed the throne in 1925. His Majesty has grown quite large. In the royal tunic and golden headdress, he was towering and impressive like a dragon. We rode the twenty-mile train ride from Han Estuary to Hue in a heavy rain and then changed to a private automobile at the station.”
“Were you chosen as part of the king's reception committee?” Lady Chin asked.
“By no means,” he said. “I am just a curious old servant who was fortunate enough to blend in with no objection.”
She smiled. “You are a cunning man. This gossip will ensure your popularity among the ladies of the court. But tell me first. What happened next?”
Ung beamed like a child. “From there, over the mountain to the citadel, ten miles of multicolored fanions fluttered in the wind to mark the route that our emperor would be traveling. People were everywhere. In spite of the downpour, the Vietnamese, mostly students and teachers, bowed to the ground anticipating the sight of our emperor, while the French huddled under their umbrellas and watched the spectacle. Nobody spoke or cheered like in the old days, only the sound of a cannon split the air. But the king decided to take a shortcut in his automobile, slipping away from the crowd the moment he disembarked the train.
“Outside the Imperial Palace, on the entrance square, parasols rose above a sea of heads, forming a new sky. A throne was waiting for the king on the wet ground. Soldiers presented arms while an orchestra played the French national anthem. His Royal Highness stepped out of his vehicle, turned to the foreign flag, and made the five ritual prostrations, much to the dismay of his people. Only then did he assume the sacred Throne of the Son of Heaven. Governor General Varennes made a formal speech in which he expressed France's wishes for a period of peace and happiness. The cannons fired again to conclude the ceremony. His Majesty came down from the throne and was taken in a palanquin inside the Forbidden City.”
Lady Chin listened with shining eyes, then remarked, “By bowing to the French flag, the emperor expressed his allegiance to the foreigners, which would surely offend the Vietnamese patriots. You and I must be grateful that we have nothing to do with this moment in history. Thank the gods, Sir Ung, that your life is now an idle one. Just imagine how busy you would be if you were the chamberlain for the young king.”
“It is a road my ancestors have chosen for me,” he answered. “My duty is to serve in the palace to my last breath.”
“Yes, but I doubt that His Majesty would appreciate the loyalty of an old eunuch after many years of living in France and learning the ways of a Frenchman.”
She watched the muscles around his mouth sag as if he were deeply hurt by her words. “That is why I was sent to spend my twilight days alone in the eunuchs' quarters,” he said. “If we examine our lives closely, we are not too different from each other, madam. But there is one thing that separates me from you. Even though I am waiting to meet Death, it cannot stop me from living.”
She covered her mouth in her habitual way of suppressing her emotions.
“I miss our friendship, Lady Chin.” The eunuch's voice was soaked in sadness. “If I should ever be in a similar predicament, I would expect your warm companionship until the end. Please let me be your escort for this evening's fete.”
“I thank you for your kind speech,” she whispered, covering her face. “It is too late for me to leave this place.” She raised a finger as if to stop him from interrupting. “But it would be a great honor if you would tolerate my company tonight. I have been longing for a stroll and some fresh air. It is time for us to spy on our new king and gossip together.”
“Well said!” Ung exclaimed. “It is a first step. What should I do? Where should I go?” He hugged himself with delight. “It does not matter. Wait for me, and I shall come back.”
With a chuckle, he flung himself out the door. Soon his outline was scarcely distinguishable in the garden amid the evening fog. Lady Chin wiped her eyes with the front of her blouse and fell back against her pillows. In her heart, she already knew that the dead would not come to her tonight.
The Ballroom