22
Our Lady of Sorrows
B
ut I didn’t bring Little Doll to see Purple, for everything soon changed.
I lost my baby. The whole family, even Wenyi, was in deep grief, not for me, but for the baby. It was a boy. Without knowing he was a Shen, not a Li, the Li family buried the tiny body and hired monks to conduct a ritual in the ancestral hall to appease his equally tiny soul. Every night I sobbed, burned incense, and recited the Heart Sutra for him and his father.
But the worst was yet to come. Instead of leaving me alone, Wenyi demanded sex almost every night, even when I was sick.
“Now give me a son this time, a living one!” he’d yell, his face red, his breathing heavy, and his arms prying apart my legs. Although Wenyi was a cripple, his torso and arms were strong, so I had no choice but to yield.
To take my mind off my miseries, I thought of taking up embroidery again, even redoing
Along the River.
But soon my life took another unexpected turn.
One morning I overheard a conversation I was not supposed to hear. The maid was talking to Old Li in a puzzled tone. The two must have thought I’d already left to work at the shop, so I stayed in my room to listen.
“Master Li, when I was cleaning the young master’s room, I found this jacket wedged between the sofa cushions and the frame. Young mistress must have left it there when she lay down to rest. I saw a gold thread sticking out, so I looked underneath and found this.”
Even though I could not see what was happening, I knew the maid had found the emperor’s undergarment.
“Master Li, I thought I should show it to you.”
I heard a gasp from Li, followed by a brief silence before his voice piped up again. “All right, you were right to show this to me. I’ll take care of it; you can go back to work.”
That day Old Li seemed preoccupied and I wondered what was on his mind or if he would confront me about what the maid had found. But I didn’t find out until that evening. As usual, Wenyi was out somewhere. To calm myself, I went to the backyard to look at the moon and the distant mountain peak, muttering a prayer. What was I going to do with my wretched life? What would Old Li do to me, now that he knew about the imperial undergarment? As tears coursed down my cheeks, I heard Ping’s voice behind me.
“Spring Swallow,” she said softly but firmly, “I hate to tell you this, but I think you better leave this house as soon as you can.”
Of course I immediately understood why she’d said this, but I wanted to hear it from her mouth. “Why?”
“Because my father may report you to the police. If you’re caught with the stolen imperial garment, you might even be executed!”
I felt too frightened to speak.
“How did you get it?” she asked.
“Sorry, Ping, but I can’t tell you.”
“All right, I didn’t expect you to. Spring Swallow, I like you, you work hard in the store, and you’re my sister-in-law, so I want to help you. My advice is, you better leave before my father makes up his mind.”
Tears coursed down my cheeks. “But you know I have no place to go. . . .”
She replied, “There is a Buddhist temple a few miles south of Soochow. I suggest you try your luck there. At least the monks and nuns will not send you away—or report you to the authorities. You can stay there for a while, but it’s not safe for you to remain in Soochow.”
She took out a small pouch and gave it to me. “Here’s some money—just pack and leave before it’s too late.”
“But . . .”
“There’s no ‘but,’ Spring Swallow. You have no future with my brother now that you lost his baby.”
“Then I need to tell Little Doll—”
“No, you don’t have time. Anyway, you don’t have to worry because we’ll take care of her. She’ll continue to work here, fed and housed, so she’ll be fine. You can write to me and I’ll let you know when things cool down, then you can come back for her.”
When I was about to leave, she took out an envelope and handed it to me. “I’ve worked out everything for you. This is Wenyi’s
xiuqishu.
Keep it; maybe it will be useful.”
The
xiuqishu,
“letting-go-the-wife” letter, was a document to dissolve marriage from the husband’s side so he doesn’t have to go through long, costly legal procedures. It’s also a huge humiliation to the wife. But I still thanked Ping profusely, not only for alerting me, but also for giving me this letter, insulting me in the process but also freeing me.
After she left, I quickly packed and wrote a note for my little sister telling her I had to leave the Lis’ house but promising that one day I’d be back for her. I also said I’d try my best to find Aunty and Purple and get our family back together. I regretted not having a chance to say good-bye to Little Doll, but thought that Old Li and his daughter would not treat her badly, because she’d continue to help with chores both at the store and in the house for a pittance.
I almost collapsed with despair when I heard the soft
click
of the closing door. This was not just the closing of a chapter in my life, for what lay before me was unknown—and terrifying. I feared I was now cut off from all who had ever shown me any kindness—Shen Feng, Old Li, Ping, Purple, Aunty Peony, even Little Doll, whom I might never see again in this life.
Being on the run yet again made my earlier life—with my mean aunt, Aunty Peony and the girls, Shen Feng, even the Li family— seem no more than a dream. Now I had to wake up. However, I didn’t want to think Shen Feng was a dream too. I wanted to embrace his strong body and kiss his warm lips one more time....
I decided that before I left Soochow for good I would stop at Rain Flower Pavilion to say good-bye to Purple. Then I’d have to find a temple that would take me in for the night. What I really hoped was that I could persuade her to come with me.
It was already evening and the sun’s fading light dyed the street golden, making my surroundings seem unreal as floating in the air. I hailed a rickshaw and was soon dropped off in front of the pleasure house. A group of richly attired men strode in with happy expressions. A few feet down the road was a skinny woman with stooped head and long, tangled hair. In front of her was a chipped begging bowl with only a few coins inside. So business must be bad.
Before I entered Rain Flower Pavilion, I took a few coins from my pocket and threw them inside the bowl.
She mumbled, “Thank you,” but did not lift her head, so I could not see her face.
I still had Aunty’s money and so I felt I could help another woman whose fate was even worse than mine. But I knew my savings would not last forever.
Feeling comforted that I’d done something good, I entered the pavilion in better spirits. Inside, the mood was completely different. Men were devouring expensive food with relish or gambling large sums with abandon, attended by pretty girls pouring tea, lighting cigarettes, preparing water pipes, even picking up food and putting it in the men’s mouths. My eyes sought the stage where Purple had performed but found it empty.
When I craned my neck to look for her in the crowded hall, I saw a familiar figure approaching me—the same woman who wanted me for customers interested in pregnant sisters.
“Young miss,” she smiled happily, “you came here a while ago, right? I’m glad that you’ve finally decided to join us!”
“Madame, I’m only here looking for Purple.”
She cast me a curious glance. “Purple? Sorry, but we don’t have a Purple here—nor a Pink, nor a Lavender, hahaha!” As she appreciated her own joke, the corners of her eyes wrinkled.
“But I talked to her when I was here last time!”
“Then your friend must be a wild chicken who sneaked in here to make a few bucks.”
“No, she played the
pipa
on that stage!” I pointed.
She rolled her eyes and made an annoyed expression. “Ah, the
pipa
girl, why didn’t you tell me earlier? But her name is Chrysanthemum, not Purple, unless there are purple chrysanthemums. Why are you looking for her? She left a while ago.”
“Do you know where she has gone?”
“You think I know or care? Girls come and go here, like a merry-go-round.”
I asked, “She didn’t tell you where she was going?”
“No. You think if she’s going to work for another house, she’ll leave the new address for us?”
She cast a look at my now smaller stomach. “Guess you’re not pregnant anymore . . . but you can be a regular sister. For less money, of course. Otherwise, you better leave now. But wait—” she looked me over appraisingly. “Or maybe
you
want another sister. I can recommend one for your taste.”
Her leer made my skin crawl. I thanked her and hurriedly left the rain, the pavilion, and its flowers.
Though Ping had suggested I should find temporary refuge in a Buddhist temple near Soochow, I decided to go to Peking instead. I wanted to put as much distance as I could between Soochow and myself. Old Li might still decide to send the police after me. Also, this place had become
shangxin di,
“heartbroken land.” So I needed to make a new start as quickly as possible while my money lasted.
I took a rickshaw to the station, boarded the next train, and a few hours later arrived in Peking. Fortunately, I’d been in the capital before with Aunty, so I did not feel completely lost. I immediately took a tricycle rickshaw to the same inn we’d stayed in last time. By the time I was settled into my room, it was past midnight, so I went straight to sleep.
Next morning after a simple breakfast at the inn, I went to a nearby bookstore to buy a guidebook, then back to my room. Sitting on the bed in my cramped room, I studied it carefully. Ping’s suggestion to take refuge in a temple made sense because not only would I be housed and fed, I’d be safe. Soon I learned that the biggest temples were on Wutai Mountain—far enough that I would have to hire a car. Of course I knew that even if a temple took me in, I would need to work in exchange for their compassion since I could not offer them a big donation.
As I continued to read, I realized that in addition to Buddhist temples, there were Western churches here. With great curiosity, I savored the exotic names: Saint John’s, Saint Michael’s, Saint Teresa’s, Sacred Heart Cathedral. Some were named for the four directions—East Church, West Church, South Church, North Church—I guessed to attract people from all corners of the world. Or, as the Chinese say, “From the five lakes and the four seas.”
When I saw the name Immaculate Conception Cathedral, I was amused. Couples who are childless call up the Baby-Giving Goddess for help, so why would anyone want an Immaculate Conception? Father Edwin had told me that the Virgin Mary did just that—giving birth to baby Jesus without a man to do that thing. But why would any woman want to have a baby without a husband, a man she loves? And how could it be possible?
I resumed reading when yet another name caught my attention—Our Lady of Sorrows. Reading these words, I suddenly burst into tears. I had a feeling the church was meant for us—Aunty Peony, Purple, Leilei, me, and even Little Doll. Weren’t we all ladies of sorrow? Because this name struck a chord in me, I decided to go there first. It would not be entirely strange because of the lessons I had taken with Father Edwin in his little church back in my old village.
Our Lady of Sorrows, rather than looking sorrowful, appeared forbidding, with two towering steeples topped by two huge crosses. As I walked toward the building, I heard music coming through its colorful mosaic windows. Enchanted by the beautiful melody, I quickened my steps until I reached two thick wooden doors. I knocked for seconds, but no one answered. I guessed the wood was too thick for those inside to hear. Or maybe the heavenly music completely obscured my earthly knockings.
As I was wondering what to do, a man’s gentle voice rose next to me. “Miss, no one will hear you because the mass is going on right now.”
I turned to face a tall, blond man in a black robe who was speaking to me in fluent Mandarin. His fair skin seemed to reflect the bright sunlight.
Not knowing what to say, I asked, “A mass?”
He smiled as he pushed open the door, held it, and signaled me to get in. I stepped into a courtyard with trees and two reddish brown brick buildings. He followed me in.
“Have you been to our church before, miss?”
“I was just passing by, saw the name of the church and decided to take a look.”
He cast me a curious glance with his grayish blue eyes.
“May I ask why you’re so curious about the name of our church?”
“Because I’m a lady of sorrow myself!”
He looked surprised. “But you’re too young to be sorrowful. What are you sorry about, miss?”
What a naïve question! Had this man’s life been so smooth that he had no idea about women’s sorrows? Then why did he come to work at a sorrowful church?
“Mister, I’m afraid you won’t understand.”
He smiled, revealing neat, white teeth. “I can try, so why don’t you tell me?”
I hesitated.
He said gently, “I am sure that your troubles are only temporary—all problems can be solved with God’s help. If you pray earnestly to Him, He will answer your prayers and direct you back onto the right path. As the Bible says, knock and doors will be opened.”
This white ghost sounded pretty naïve to me. In my life, many doors were opened for me without me even knocking. But mostly they opened onto disasters.
Then the tall foreigner pointed to the doorway. “Miss, please come in and join us for mass. I’m sure after hearing Our Lord’s blessings, your heart will be eased.”
Smiling, he went on. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Ryan McFarland, a seminarian in this church. I studied Chinese in America before I came here. In one more year, the Lord willing, I’ll be fully ordained as a priest. You can just call me Ryan.”