Garden of Empress Cassia (5 page)

Dr Lu walked home from the train station, a suitcase in one hand, a lidded cane basket in the other. Inside the basket sat Uncle Ting's most loved possession – his gift to Mimi.

The sight that met Dr Lu's eyes as he walked down Rumba Street was so strange, he thought he might have taken the wrong turn from the station. Never had he seen so many people milling outside his shop before. Was there an accident? He started running, the basket bouncing against his leg. As he reached the crowd, the people stepped back to let him through as though he were a great emperor. Some smiled and congratulated him, others just shook their heads in admiration.

‘You're back,' said Mrs Lu. ‘You must be tired. Have some cassia tea.'

Dr Lu looked around his clinic in surprise. People sat at mahjong tables eating and drinking. There was Mr Honeybun and Alma sitting together in the corner engrossed in conversation. There were others that Dr Lu didn't recognise at all. And instead of the smell of herbs, the aroma of dumplings and cassia tea filled his nostrils.

‘What has happened since I've been away?' he asked his wife in Chinese.

‘It's Mimi's wonderful garden,' replied Mrs Lu, wiping her hands on her apron and taking his suitcase from his hand. ‘People come to Rumba Street just to see it. I set up a teahouse to make a bit of money while you were away.'

‘Business looks good,' he said.

‘Mm . . . not bad. I'll get you something to eat.'

‘Where's Mimi?'

‘In the kitchen eating breakfast.' Mrs Lu turned towards the kitchen and called, ‘Mimi, your daddy's home.'

Oh no. He'll go ape when he finds out I've been drawing.

The chair legs screeched angrily against the wooden floorboards as she pushed back her seat.

‘Hello, Mimi,' said Dr Lu walking into the kitchen.

‘Hi, Dad.'

‘Mummy say you do much drawing.'

‘Only a little. But I got A for my English test and 47 out of 50 for maths,' she said quickly.

‘Mm . . . well . . . no talk school now.'

That's a surprise.

‘I bring present from Uncle Ting.'

‘Is he still alive then?' Mimi asked with a tinge of hope.

Dr Lu spoke in Chinese, his voice sounded sad and tired. ‘No, Mimi, he died in his sleep. He was a good man.' Tears came to Dr Lu's eyes.

He lifted the cane basket onto the kitchen table. ‘He wanted you to have this.'

‘What is it, Dad?'

‘Open and see.'

Mimi lifted the latch and felt something alive pushing from the inside. Slowly she gave way to the pressure. A small grey-haired dog poked its head through the opening, grunting and whimpering with excitement at being let out at last. His little tail seemed spring-loaded, it wagged so fast. Two bright brown eyes looked up at her like the two bright stars through her bedroom window.

‘Uncle Ting?' she whispered in its ear. ‘Is that you?'

She lifted the little dog out and held him close. His tummy was soft and pink and covered in grey spots of different sizes. It looked as though his mum had put him out in a gentle rain, belly up, and the raindrops had never washed off. In fact this was the way he always liked to sleep – trusting the world. The little dog grunted like a piglet sucking sweet milk as Mimi cradled him in her arms and tickled his belly.

‘What's his name, Dad?'

‘Uncle Ting call him Peppy.'

At that moment Mimi had an urge to do something she had never done before. She hesitated a moment. Then she put Peppy down and walked up to her dad and put her arms around him. It was strange at first. They had never hugged – but when she felt him hug her back, it seemed as natural and easy as snuggling under her silk-filled doona on a cold, wintry night.

Mimi lay in bed, Peppy by her side as though he had belonged to her all his life. From the room next door came the familiar sound of her parents' voices speaking to one another in Chinese.

‘What did you talk about with Ting?' asked Mrs Lu.

‘Our childhood, the fun we had. Then how different we were. Ting was such a dreamer. As a boy he would sit on the tiled roof of our house reading poetry all day long. I thought he was useless. At least in the end we had the chance to be brothers once more.' Dr Lu paused. ‘I'm not going to make the same mistake with Mimi.'

Mimi could feel a warmth slowly melting the icy spaces between father and daughter. A change, greater than her mum's teahouse, greater than her drawings, perhaps even greater than the garden itself – had come over the smelly little two-storey shop at number 83 Rumba Street.

Mrs Lu was busy in the kitchen singing Chinese opera and making juicy fat dumplings. After Dr Lu's return, the clinic sprang back to normal except for one round table by the window with eight chairs. It was when Mrs Lu found herself making dumplings in her sleep, that she knew it was time to slow things down. One night she even dreamt that the dumplings sprouted legs and chased her around the kitchen.

Behind the counter, Mimi helped her dad fill out prescriptions. Dr Lu's first patient was Miss Sternhop. She came especially early this morning – because later on that day, she had the most important appointment of her life.

Dr Lu finished feeling Miss Sternhop's pulse and inspecting her tongue. He wrote on his pad and handed the prescription to Mimi.

Mimi had first weighed out herbs when she was seven years old under the watchful eye of her mother. Then she had needed to stand on four telephone books to see over the counter.

Mimi pulled out a drawer, grabbed a handful of herbs then placed them on a small brass tray the size of a saucer. This was suspended from a thin rod by three strings. The rod was made of bone and had tiny measurements along its surface. Mimi held a pink string attached to the top of the rod between her thumb and index finger. By moving a weight until the rod was perfectly balanced, Mimi could accurately weigh out the herbs.

‘Your health very very good today, Miss Sternhop,' Dr Lu said. ‘Your skin so clear, your eyes so bright. You only need herbs to maintain health.'

Miss Sternhop smiled with her tight thin lips. She glanced down at her watch. ‘Oh dear, ten o'clock already? My flying lesson's at twelve!'

‘Flying?' asked Dr Lu taking off his glasses to see if Miss Sternhop was joking.

‘Yes, I've been learning to fly a glider, a Blanik. I've wanted to all my life. No engine . . . just the sound of the wind. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world, Dr Lu.' She lifted her head and closed her eyes. ‘In the air I'm as free as an eagle. Today I am going for my licence.'

Miss Sternhop hurried to the door. ‘Goodbye Dr Lu, goodbye Mimi, wish me luck,' she called rushing up the street as though she had wings on the backs of her heels.

Dr Lu turned to Mimi, ‘Very strange . . . Miss Stern-hop like young woman again. Herbs not that strong.'

‘She's been in the garden, Dad.'

‘Garden?'

‘You know . . . the Garden of Empress Cassia.' Mimi pointed to the street.

‘But it only drawing.'

‘That's what it looks like but there are people walking around inside all the time.

‘Walk inside a drawing? I no can believe.'

‘The garden can only be drawn with these special pastels that Miss O'Dell gave me. Only people who need to be healed in some way can enter the garden. It sounds weird, I know, but when they come out, they're different. That's why Miss Sternhop has changed. It's been her dream to fly and now she's doing it. After Mr Honeybun went in, he had the nerve to ask Alma out on a date.'

‘Why no people talk about inside of garden?'

‘That's just it . . . nobody remembers being inside except me. That's probably because I drew it in the first place.'

Dr Lu shook his head in disbelief.

‘It's true, Dad. Old Ma says the garden has been around for thousands of years. It's always out there, in the space between Heaven and Earth, waiting for the right person to use the pastels, then the garden comes to life again. This time it was me.'

Mrs Lu carried a tray of fried dumplings from the kitchen.

‘Come, try new recipe. Red bean paste inside,' she said excitedly.

Mimi grabbed a pair of chopsticks and skewered a dumpling. ‘Mmm . . . delicious Mum,' she said as she bit deep into the dumpling's crunchy skin. The smooth sweet red bean paste oozed into her mouth. It tasted good.

‘Have you been in Mimi's garden?' Dr Lu asked Mrs Lu.

‘I stood at the entrance and read the inscription but nothing happened.'

‘That's because you don't need the Garden, Mum.'

Ding ding-a-ling.
The shop door opened. Gemma followed her mother into the shop.

‘Mrs Johnson, please come in. Sit down,' said Dr Lu.

Oh no, what's she doing here?
The dumpling in Mimi's mouth suddenly tasted claggy and dry.

‘Thank you, Dr Lu. Gemma tells me she's in the same class at school as your daughter. She thought it would be nice if they got together while I have my consultation.'

‘Good idea. Mimi look after Gemma. Take her up to your room.'

‘But Dad, I'm busy. I need to clean up the clinic'

Gemma walked confidently up to the counter smiling her big fake smile as though she was Mimi's best friend.

‘Hi, Mimi.' Then she leant over and whispered, ‘Thought we could catch up while Mum's having her witchety brew treatment with your dad Dr Smelly-Loo.'

‘What do you want?' Mimi whispered back.

‘Hurry up, Mimi, what wrong with you? Take friend upstairs.' Dr Lu waved her away.

‘I go make morning tea for you and Gemma,' said Mrs Lu. ‘Quickly, go. Your daddy busy'

Reluctantly, Mimi led the way to her room.
She's up to something. What is it? Gemma wouldn't be seen dead with me.

‘Cute dog. What's its name?' asked Gemma, plonking herself on the bed.

She put her hand out but snatched it back quickly when Peppy growled.
Good on you Peps,
thought Mimi. He was always so placid. She'd never seen him growl at anyone before.
Dogs can sense when someone's bad. I wonder if there's a special bad kind of smell they have too.

‘Nice room,' Gemma said sarcastically. ‘Mum bought me a double bed for my twelfth birthday and a hot pink doona.' She smirked. ‘Hey, you should ask for one too –' she looked around the room, ‘On second thoughts, don't think it would fit. Your bedroom's smaller than my wardrobe.'

‘Why did you come, Gemma?'

‘I was out shopping with Mum, that's all. Why so suspicious?'

‘Because I don't trust you.'

‘Mimi,' called Mrs Lu from the bottom of the stairs. ‘Come down get morning tea.'

‘In a minute, Mum.'

‘No, come now.'

‘All right.' Mimi moved towards the door. ‘Come on Gemma, come downstairs with me.'

‘No. I'm going to wait right here,' she replied coldly. ‘I won't touch a thing, I promise.' Gemma crossed her heart and looked at Mimi with innocent blue eyes.

‘Mimi!' came her mum's voice again.

‘Take your time. I'll just play with your pooch while you're gone. Come, Poopy, good boy.' Peppy growled, then jumped off the bed to follow Mimi downstairs.

As soon as Gemma was alone, she began searching the room.
Those pastels will make me famous,
she thought. She looked in the bookshelf, under the bed, in the wardrobe.
I'll be on the front cover of
Gorgeous Girl.
Everyone'll be so jealous. Now where would she put them?

Gemma opened the top drawer in the bedside table.

‘Yesss!' she cried excitedly, then put her hand over her mouth in case someone had overheard her cry of joy.
It'll be the start of my acting career. Or maybe I'll be a model.

As Gemma lifted the lid, immediately her mind filled with strange images.

‘Wow. Cool.' Gemma closed the lid quickly, then stuffed the pastels up her shirt.

She crept downstairs and walked through the clinic. ‘I'm going home first, Mum. I just remembered I've got homework to do.' Her mum didn't look up, just waved as Gemma went past.

Mimi came rushing out of the kitchen at the sound of Peppy's frantic barking. He never barked in the clinic. Something was terribly wrong. She put down the tray of drinks and raced up to her room.
Please no, not the pastels,
she prayed. But when she saw the silk scarf lying on the floor where Gemma had thrown it, she felt as though her soul had been stolen as well.

Maybe it's not too late,
she thought frantically.

Mimi flew down the stairs two at a time, then out the door and down the street towards Gemma's place. Peppy ran along beside her. All the way she practised her tough sounding voice –
GIVE THEM BACK GEMMA. I KNOW YOU TOOK THEM. I WANT THEM NOW.

She came to a house with a neat path bordered with white roses. Taking a deep breath, Mimi pressed the security buzzer on the wall. She waited.

‘Who is it?' came Gemma's voice.

‘You know perfectly well who it is, Gemma,
give the pastels back!
'

‘Is that you, Mimi? Sorry I couldn't hang around for morning tea but I remembered I had some homework to finish,' Gemma said innocently.

‘Give them back or I'll tell.'

‘Look, Mimi, I have no idea what you're on about.'

In desperation, Mimi changed her tone. ‘Please Gemma, Miss O'Dell says they're really dangerous, so did Old Ma. Don't you see? You can't use them. You mustn't use them!'

‘I don't know what you're talking about. Have to go now. Seeya.' The speaker went dead.

As Mimi walked home, she felt as though all her bones had splintered and her muscles had turned to jelly. How was she going to tell Miss O'Dell? Old Ma was wrong. She didn't deserve the pastels. She couldn't even look after them properly.

Mimi looked up at the sky swollen with sombre grey clouds. A flash of lightning. The crack of thunder. Wind lashed the electric power lines, playing them like a guitar. Then, as though the whole force of nature was punishing her, the rain came. Each drop like a silver bullet biting into her skin.