All the Flowers in Shanghai (8 page)

“Perhaps you are right, everything will be fine.”

I could only see his back, his legs outlined by his trousers seemed so thin that they would barely support him. I saw the back of his head move closer to the photograph.

“Yes, I wish I had the courage to tell them. Tell them all.”

He turned and looked at me and smiled, yet I knew his smiles and this was watery and hurt, something that he had forced for me. His eyes were wet but he continued smiling hard at me.

“Xiao Feng, I will see you later as I’m going for a walk by myself.”

He and I never walked together in the gardens again and he spent most of his time sitting listlessly in his chair, as if waiting for something.

A week later Ba and Ma came to my room with two maids, who were holding Sister’s wedding dress.

“Xiao Feng, you must wear this for Sister’s fiancé. The maids will help you get dressed,” Ma instructed.

I looked at the dress. I had not seen it properly until now. It was beautiful, but it was still Sister’s.

“This dress will be too short. All Sister’s clothes were too short and wide for me.”

It was also very unlucky to wear anything left by a dead person but I did not want to talk about this.

“Your Sister’s fiancé will be arriving with his family and they want to see you wear it.”

“But why do they want to see me wear the dress? They have never even asked to see me before,” I quickly replied.

“Stop asking so many questions! They are thinking of buying the dress from your father in remembrance of your sister and they would like to see it worn.”

I did not want to see them. To me they resembled ugly toads, belching their foul stink, bulging eyes squinting at everyone before them. I did not want their toad eyes to look at me even if it was only to see the dress being worn.

“A local tailor has worked very hard to make basic alterations to the dress and alter it to your size, but the seamstress will be coming back soon to work on it properly. You need to be ready in five hours. The maids will bathe you first.”

Ma and Ba did not explain any further but left, leaving me to drift to thoughts of Bi and his return. The maids undressed and washed me. I normally only took a few minutes to dress as Ma and Ba had never given me beautiful clothes or the assistance of maids; those things had been reserved for Sister.

The wedding dress, the
kua,
was of red silk with beautiful flowers and symbols embroidered on it in gold thread. The stitching was exact and careful, meticulous work I know well now. It reminded me of Bi and I wished he were here to see me. I had never worn such clothes before; dresses like this must have made Sister feel very special, floating above everyone, almost untouchable. But Bi would have laughed at me for wearing such intricate and elegant clothes. The wedding dress his mother would have made for his bride would have been beautiful, too, but it would have been simple, reflecting the peace of the countryside that Bi loved so much. Still, even I was surprised by the way I looked after the maids had finished.

I did not resemble my sister, being obviously more innocent and childish, but I am sure my face was prettier. My hair had never been arranged properly before and I enjoyed seeing the maids brush it out. It was black and strong and their repeated touching and brushing made me feel older, more like a woman. With all this attention I barely remembered that this was to have been Sister’s wedding dress, and what should have happened to her. For these few moments, I was intoxicated by the feeling of everybody revolving around me.

Sister’s fiancé arrived with his father and mother and they all sat in silence, with Ma and Ba, sipping tea. As I entered, Sister’s fiancé smiled when he saw me and started whispering to his father, who immediately nodded in reply. His father also smiled and as he did, his face spread out into three chins and his tiny eyes disappeared beneath his thick eyebrows. He resembled a happy smiling toad. I served them all tea and sat quietly while they talked. I sat and dreamed of sitting with Bi in the gardens, kissing each other again. I was so lost I could almost taste his mouth.

“Feng, please pour Mr. Sang some more tea.” Ma woke me from my dreams.

The dress was restricting, and bending over to pour tea was quite difficult, but I felt regal in it and enjoyed being the center of attention. It was all a new experience for me but I felt I understood now how Sister had become so selfish and vain. To be the focus of such close attention every day would have made it impossible for her to think of anyone but herself. Even for a short time it was overwhelming.

I sat there in silence and gazed out of the window behind the seated adults, losing myself in thoughts of going to tea dances like Sister, dancing and laughing, though I had never received the lessons she had and could not dance. Through the window I could see Grandfather leave the house and start walking up the drive away from us. I hoped he was finally visiting the gardens again; they would bring him a peace that I think he’d needed since Sister had died. I had not visited them myself since Bi left, and would have liked to accompany him. I would have liked to have sat on the grass again and watched the river. The adults continued their discussion, ignoring me, so I returned to watching Grandfather. His steps were tired and slow and he stumbled when only a few weeks ago he’d walked purposefully. At the top of the drive, by the gate, he turned and looked back; his eyes were shadowed and his hair disheveled in the wind. He stared hard for a few seconds, then turned and disappeared into the road.

The conversation stopped and I was asked to leave. It took nearly an hour to remove the clothes and all the makeup and I was so tired, I simply fell asleep. A maid had been ordered to come and wake me for supper and to dress me again. This time I was given a proper silk cheongsam like Sister used to wear to dinner. It was fragile to the touch and weighed almost nothing. It did not fit me perfectly but it still looked very pretty. I liked to see myself and enjoyed the maids brushing my hair again. I had become the center of the house and everything was being done for me. I thought nothing about how this had happened; I just let myself be carried along by the attention paid to me. For this short time I wanted nothing else but for this feeling to last forever.

When I arrived at the table, it was set for three people and I asked why Grandfather was not eating with us and was told that he had gone on a pilgrimage to sweep Grandmother’s burial place in the countryside and would not be back for a few weeks. Ba looked sad and tired but Ma was very excited. The maids did not serve the food fast enough for Ma, and she hurried them out of the room as soon as they had finished. Before they had left, Ba started to say something but Ma quickly interrupted. She looked me steadily in the eyes, holding my gaze as if she believed she could hold my spirit as well.

“Feng, in two months, after the mourning period has finished, you will be married to Sister’s fiancé.”

No. I cannot.

I instinctively looked around for Grandfather and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. For a moment I saw Sister’s face staring back. Ba said nothing; could not bring himself to look at me, it seemed.

Ma’s lips formed a smile but her mouth betrayed something more.

“Your sister died and her fiancé’s family want the wedding to go ahead. They asked if our next daughter could take Sister’s place. The Sang family have made it clear that there must be a marriage . . . it would be considered a terrible loss of face for them if one did not take place. They also believe it is time their eldest son had a son of his own, and there is no time to find him another bride. They all thought you looked very beautiful in the wedding dress.”

I could not move. I feared that if I did I might cry.

“Of course, we agreed and so you will be married to him. It is a very good match and you are very lucky. Do not disrespect your sister and humiliate us by making difficulties.”

Face is everything. The family, the great Sang family, had told their friends, business associates, relatives, and many other very important people that there would be a wedding. They had said that their son would now be marrying a beautiful, talented, and humble woman who knew how to respect a large and highly regarded family like theirs. This mighty family was only just willing to live with the shame of changing the date, and all the gossip and questions about the new bride that would then be conducted in private and not-so-private circles. If a wedding did not take place at all, how could it be explained that their son, the progeny of such illustrious ancestors, had not received what was due to him? To them?

“When your sister died, they expected Ba to do what was right, to do what was honorable, and that was to ensure everything proceeded: they expected him to offer his second daughter in place of his first. It was their right to expect this and we understood completely.” Ma had finished speaking and the harshness of her tone brought the conversation to a close.

I did not want to marry this man. I did not want to see him and his father. I did not want them to visit me and take me away. I did not want to dance with this young man as Sister had done. But I could not argue or disobey, and like Sister before me I must assume that they were right. The family had told Ma and Ba what they wanted, and this had been accepted. I must respect their decision and follow it. I had no other choice.

In the following days, Ma very quickly made the necessary arrangements: she ordered dresses, informed relatives, and consulted the fortune-teller as to the favorable dates, colors, and symbols. It had all become our responsibility as we had failed the Sang family once and consequently ourselves lost face. The seamstress had been recalled to ensure that Sister’s dress was a perfect fit for me, and she would arrive in a couple of days. I hoped Bi would return as well. I longed for him to take me away.

I
’d had many dreams of Bi since he had returned home. Sometimes they were like little poems, brief scenes lasting no longer than the time it takes for an autumn leaf to fall from a tree. They had become more vivid since I had been told I must marry Sister’s fiancé, and often in the morning my mood would be colored by the things I had dreamed the night before. In many of them Bi was talking with Grandfather. I could never hear their conversation as they spoke softly, but Grandfather was nodding and smiling. I would approach them and Bi would turn and kiss me then, his lips barely touching mine; even now, as I sit here broken and alone, looking at his picture, I can imagine this kiss and when I do I feel nothing else. He takes my hand and then we are sitting at the little table in the kitchen eating dumplings. It is very cold and our breath hangs in the air. I see the juice from the dumpling he is eating sitting in his spoon and he offers it to me. I swallow and it warms me. He smiles with satisfaction and I feel warmer still.

Then I am at my school desk in an empty classroom looking out of the window. It is a cold day in winter, the grass short and white with frost. The people outside are wrapped in heavy coats and large boots to protect them from the chill north wind. Bi floats by the school window, smiling at me, and suddenly he appears at the desk next to me. We look at the textbook together. He leans on his elbow and stares hard at the writing, then looks up at me and smiles. He can’t read and it does not matter. He just stares at me with eyes that are warm and irresistible. I read the text to him; it is the story of Guanyin, the goddess of mercy. I finish the tale and he takes my hand, which feels hot in the cold classroom. We share the sticky rice I have brought for my lunch. His chopsticks break and we use mine. I am eating from one end and he from the other. A teacher enters the room. She reprimands him but I cannot understand what she is saying. She is extremely angry and wants to hit him.

I wake up then. I want him to come and find me. I want his eyes to look at me and hold me there. I want his sweet smell of the countryside to fill me.

Five days later the seamstress arrived again. She immediately started making alterations to the dress, removing and replacing the work of the local tailor. I had been forbidden from returning to the gardens, which was all I wanted to do, so I would sit on a stool near the door to the attic where the seamstress worked. She sat at the other end, close to the window where the light was good. Although I could not see her face I could see her thick black hair and slender neck and back. Most important, I could see her hands as they worked the needle and thread. I wished she would talk to me.

For many hours I sat and watched her, too afraid to ask about Bi. I just wanted her to tell me that he was her son and he had talked of me. I wanted to know that he had been thinking of me and was coming to see me. I could not help but hope that he had come with her and was waiting below in the gardens for me. I could not go and see—Ma and the maids were constantly watching me. Sister’s maids now followed me everywhere, making sure I was careful and did nothing that would disrupt the wedding. Ma would not let anything more cause her or my new family any further loss of face.

So I sat quietly and watched the seamstress while a maid watched me. The seamstress’s hands swayed left and right as she built up the complex stitching. I loved her hands; they were so peaceful. I could see that they had never been used to destroy or hurt, only create things that she hoped would be important and dear to people.

This dress was the final act in the completion of Sister and Ma’s relentless striving, and though Sister would never wear it, and to me it would be a prison, the seamstress must continue to follow their directions and create something beautiful. A beautiful cage in which a man, like those who sat in the market, could keep his little bird. He could bring out the cage and force his prisoner to sing whenever he wanted to be amused, to show off to his friends or simply to make the little bird suffer. It was the one he would hang up on his porch so he could listen to the birdsong whenever he did not want to feel he was alone.

I watched the seamstress building me my cage, and the maid who was watching me scratching her knees that were swollen and raw from cleaning the floors. Suddenly the maid was summoned away. I stayed there a few moments more, then, when I could no longer hear her footsteps, I ran from the room and into the gardens.