2
Meeting an Embroiderer
T
wo days later, after anxious nights in deserted alleys and a ride on top of a northbound train, with a growling stomach and wobbly limbs, I finally arrived in the city of Soochow, feeling excited but mostly scared. What if I couldn’t find a place to live or get a job, however menial? Would I starve to death, be caught by Mean Aunt and the villagers, or be abducted by bandits?
I remembered that when I was very small, my parents had taken me here once. Although I remembered little about the city besides its snake-like rivers, I felt somewhat relieved knowing that I had been here once before. And I was not totally unprepared, for I had started to plan my escape a few years ago when first told I was to marry a ghost.
The smartest thing I’d done to prepare for my escape was to continue my schooling even after Mean Aunt had stopped paying for it. She always warned me that “A smart girl can never find a husband. Men, smart or stupid, don’t want to be outwitted by their wife. Not even a ghost-man.”
Even though she’d refused to pay for school, whenever I could get away, I walked four miles to one run by Western missionaries. I’d heard about this school from an old neighbor, who boasted how generous the foreigners were there, how they gave out free food and clothes. However, food and clothes were not what I wanted, but learning. I didn’t have the guts to ask for permission to take classes there, so I peeked inside a window and eavesdropped on lessons taught by a “white ghost.” Not the dead kind like my husband, but the foreign kind. Strangely, this foreign, or barbarian, ghost called himself a missionary and, ridiculously, everyone called him Father.
Having spotted me watching his class and mumbling after him and his students, one day he invited me inside his school, which was, in fact, just one room. He asked me about myself and I told him that my mean aunt would rather die than pay for my schooling. Father Edwin listened sympathetically, then explained that his classes were free, and welcomed me to attend them anytime. Not only were the classes free, but the students were given books, notebooks, towels, toothbrushes, and small bags of rice. Eager to learn and get the free things, I went to all Father Edwin’s classes: English, mathematics, geography, hygiene, even reading and writing Chinese. Whenever I was in his Chinese class, I couldn’t help but giggle. How bizarre, a foreign ghost teaching Chinese to a ghost-marrying Chinese girl!
The reason I was eager to learn was because I knew his teaching would prove invaluable someday. If I wanted to survive, I needed to be able to read and write. With six years of elementary school education behind me, I could do both, but not fluently. The village school Mean Aunt sent me to was very bad—the teachers didn’t care if you understood, learned, or even came to class.
But Father Edwin was different. An erudite man, he truly cared for his students and was eager to help and pass on his knowledge. From him I learned to read and write Chinese and English properly, and sometimes he would read to me from the ancient classics. Of course, we were all expected to study the Bible. Because I was such an eager student, he also gave me special lessons on literature, poetry, even philosophy.
My reading improved quickly so that when I had made my escape, I could read the road signs to find my way to Soochow. This city was close enough to my old village that I could make my way by foot and train in two days, but far enough away that no one here would recognize me. Even if my aunt and relatives visited Soochow, searching for me would be like “looking for a needle at the sea bottom.”
Now, however, I was less concerned about whether I’d be found than how I was going to survive. I’d already eaten the roasted pig, chicken, and buns that I had stuffed underneath my wedding robe during my long, harsh journey. And being in a city, it was urgent that I find a place to stay. My hope was to find a place as a maid, so I’d be fed and given a roof above my head. Otherwise, if I did not starve to death, I’d be reported to the police as a vagrant by coldhearted city people, or even abducted by gangsters. I wondered if I would be better off sharing my bed with an invisible ghost every night, laboring for his mother, raising the little boy I had involuntarily adopted, and remaining celibate for the rest of my life.
My tired feet dragged along a cobblestone road beside one of Soochow’s many rivers. I had arrived here before dawn, hoping not to be spotted in my red wedding gown. Under the pigeon-colored sky, everything—the rivers, houses, shops—seemed to be dyed gray. The waterways coursed here and there like dark, slippery water snakes. On the other side of the path were rows of stores with signboards above their doors, still blocked with wooden planks. The signboards announced the goods they would offer for sale: Old Gent’s Tailor, Chen’s Spicy Noodles, Big East Rice Shop, South-North Fabrics, Middle Harmonious Herbs, Auspicious Vinegar. . . . Could I get a job at one of these stores? I felt a surge of hope.
Fortunately, it was late summer and the early-morning sun, instead of burning fiercely, was warm and soothing. Feeling welcome and a little more hopeful, I continued to walk on the path, even though it was slippery and tortuous. As I surveyed my surroundings, in my peripheral vision I spotted a young woman hurrying toward the end of the street. Before I could decide whether to approach her or to hide, she had already spotted me. She had a kind face, so I braved myself not to turn and walk away. Maybe she worked as a maid for a rich family and could take me to work with her too. As we drew near each other, instead of talking, to my surprise, she pulled at my dress!
I flinched and started to turn away, when she said in a gentle voice, “Little sister, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Before I could respond, she went on. “The reason I touched your dress is because I believe this is very fine
Soo
style embroidery, probably even done by one of us a while ago!”
“What do you mean?” I stared at her finely featured face.
“I, my aunty, and the other girls I live with are all embroiderers. Your dress looks like something one of us might have done.”
She paused to give me a curious once-over, then asked, “Little sister, what are you doing out so early?” She paused again, then asked, “Why are you wearing this wedding gown, and where’s your husband?”
I blurted out before I could stop myself, “My husband was dead before I married him. That’s why I’m here!”
She looked puzzled. Not surprising since the whole thing
was
ridiculous. I couldn’t think of any explanation other than the truth, bizarre as it was.
“Big sister, I ran away after my wedding to a ghost.”
Her eyes were as round as two kumquats. “Oh, Heaven, a runaway bride! From a ghost! I’ve heard about that kind of horrible marriage. You better not be seen—both of your families are probably coming after you right now! So maybe I should be glad that we don’t . . .”
As if thinking of something, she suddenly stopped.
I asked, “Don’t what?”
“Nothing; anyway, what happened?”
Should I trust this total stranger? After I’d told her everything, would she report me to the police?
But I was already asking, “Big sister, can you keep a secret?”
She looked around even though the street was empty. “Of course I will.” Then she chuckled nervously. “Since I assume no one knows you here, who would care about your secret anyway?”
“Please don’t report me to . . .”
She stared hard at me. “But why would I do that?”
“So you’ll get a big reward?”
“Little sister . . .” Now her eyes were filled with sympathy. “I am an ill-fated woman myself. Would I be so cruel as to betray an unlucky sister, or so stupid as to generate more bad karma for myself?”
“Big sister, can you be as ill-fated as I?”
She didn’t answer my question, but said, “Hurry, before someone sees you or you’ll be in big, big trouble! Follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my place so you can change. You want people to see you in a wedding dress but with no husband?”
“Of course not.”
“Then put this on,” she said, taking off her thin shawl and draping it over my shoulders.
When we started to walk, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Spring Swallow.”
She shook her head. “It’s a pretty name, but not a very lucky one, I’m afraid. Just pray that your fate won’t be a swallow who keeps flying, never finding her nest.”
I was digesting her saying when she asked, “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Good. My name is Purple and since I am six years older than you, you can call me Sister Purple. All right now, let’s go to my place.”
“Sister Purple, why did you come out so early in the city?”
To my surprise, she blushed. “That’s none of your business, little sister.”
“Sorry.”
Maybe feeling bad for her abruptness, she smiled, and asked, “Are you hungry?”
I nodded emphatically. From my years living with a mean aunt, I’d learned never to pass up a chance to have food to warm my stomach—even if I was not hungry, or downright stuffed. One never knows where the next meal will come from.
“I’m now taking you to Aunty Peony’s house and will get you something to eat.”
“Who’s Aunty Peony?”
“My and the other girls’ embroidery teacher. Older than us and mysterious.”
Either I was crazy or just desperate, because without any resistance, I followed her.
It turned out to be a very long walk. After leaving the store-lined street, we crossed a bridge onto a long and narrow path. The path led us by numerous alleys until we were outside the city. We stopped to rest a few times and eventually arrived at a two-story brick house. A short distance away rose a mountain. It struck me as very strange to build a house here, for there were no other houses or people around.
I inhaled deeply, then asked, “Sister Purple, why have a house here with nothing else around?”
She shook her head, smiling. “You’re a little Miss Curious, eh? Aunt Peony likes to be left alone. But don’t ask me why because I don’t know. Also, don’t worry, there’s a very small village a short walk past the mountain. It’s quiet here, but we can get what we need.”
Since there was a nearby village, I was tempted to ask again why she was in the city so early in the morning. Instead, I swallowed my question with a big gulp of saliva.
Purple said, “Spring Swallow, the others should already be up and about.” Then she looked hard at me, her tone serious. “Can you make me a promise?”
I nodded.
“Don’t tell anyone that we met in Soochow. Just say it was in the nearby village that I told you about.”
As Purple and I entered the house, three women were eating breakfast from a wooden table. Once they saw us, they set down their chopsticks and came over to stare at me.
The oldest one, a dignified-looking middle-aged woman, asked my rescuer, “Who’s this, little sister?”
“This is Spring Swallow.”
Purple turned to me. “Spring Swallow, this is Aunty Peony, our teacher and master embroiderer.”
Then she gestured to a pretty girl about my age with a watermelon-seed face and curvy body. “This is Leilei.”
After that, she patted the head of the youngest girl. “And this is Little Doll.”
I bowed and softly wished them all a good morning.
The older woman acknowledged my greeting with a slight nod, exuding authority. She looked me up and down, then she turned to Purple, with a question. “Why did you bring this little sister here?”
Before I had a chance to say anything, Purple answered for me, lowering her voice. “She’s a runaway bride—to a ghost.” She lifted her shawl to reveal my wedding gown.
Aunty didn’t respond to her but kept studying me with a critical eye.
Little Doll chuckled. “
Wah!
What a lucky ghost to marry such a pretty bride!”
Purple hit the girl playfully on her arm. “Stop that, Little Doll! We should be nice to our new guest.”
Leilei, the prettiest one, didn’t say anything but, like Aunty Peony, kept staring at me with her intense eyes like a wolf’s. I had a bad feeling that she didn’t want me here.
Aunty Peony spoke. “What’s your name again? How old are you?”
“Spring Swallow, Aunty Peony. I’m seventeen.”
She turned to Purple and asked again, “What made you think you should bring her here?”
Purple smiled, her tone apologetic. “Aunty Peony, I was in the village market and saw her picking leftover food from a stall. I went up to give her a bun and we started to talk. She told me she’s a runaway bride from a ghost, so I didn’t think anyone else would take her in. I hope maybe she can learn embroidery and give us some help here.”
Aunty thought for a while, then said, “Let me see your hands.”
Timidly I put out my hands.
She took them, then kneaded them this way and that. “Hmmm . . . they’re a little coarse. Have you been doing menial work at your village?”
I didn’t want to admit this but couldn’t lie either, since she already held the truth right in her hands.
“Yes.”
She didn’t respond but told Leilei, “Go fix tea and heat up some buns for our guest. Purple, you boil water, then take her to bathe.”
After that, she turned to look me hard in the eyes. “You’re lucky we found you.” She paused, then spoke again. “Even doing menial work hasn’t ruined your hands. So I guess you’re not stupid. You seem to know how to protect yourself.”
“Thank you very much, Aunty Peony.” Of course, I would agree with anything this boss said since I needed a roof over my head and food in my stomach. I knew I was extremely lucky to have found a chance to stay somewhere so quickly after I’d arrived in the city.
I sat down and they watched me swallow the buns and down the tea like a woman caught in a famine. After I finished, Purple took a big pot of boiling water and led me inside the bathroom, which was a small space with a round wooden box for our dirty business. She moved an elongated wooden tub to the middle of the room and poured the hot water inside.