Fortune is a Woman (24 page)

He stepped back and met the old man's angry gaze. His bald head gleamed in the moonlight, and his moustache drooped into his long, pointed white beard. He said, "Honorable Grandfather, it is Ke Lai Tsin. I must speak with you." He heard the old man muttering angrily, then his head disappeared and a few moments later the door was opened just wide enough for him to slide through.

The old man wrapped his blue kimono around himself to keep out the cold and said, "Has your business failed then, Ke Lai Tsin? Is it for this you wake me at such an hour?"

Lai Tsin shook his head. "No, Honorable Grandfather. My business goes well. It is a matter more difficult than mere business."

The old man listened carefully as he explained, then he said, "It is wrong to involve yourself with the
gwailos.
Especially a concubine. Has it not been proven to you? Leave the girl to her own people and find yourself a nice Chinese woman. I myself have a cousin of a suitable age with whom a marriage could be arranged. Although she is a little older, her parents would be generous to a prospective husband, they could do your business much good."

Lai Tsin replied patiently, "You do not understand. The girl is not my concubine. She is young, like a child. Even though she had deep troubles and sorrows of her own, she helped me. She brought me good fortune and it is my duty to help her."

"It is never the duty of a Chinese to aid
gwailo
women." The old man spoke sharply and Lai Tsin sighed. It was not going to be easy to convince him to do as he asked.

He nodded. "That is true, Honorable Grandfather. But is it not also true that we are bound to repay those who have showered us with blessings? And what I ask is very small. Just your help in locating a man." Keeping his voice low and his tone reasonable he pleaded his case for half an hour until the old man grudgingly agreed. "You are a good man, Lai Tsin," he said finally. "Your sinful association with the girl is talked of everywhere, but the way you explain it she is innocent. I will do as you ask. Come here tomorrow evening at seven and you will have your answer."

The Elder knew everyone, he had a finger in every pie in Chinatown and Lai Tsin knew he would be as good as his word. He hurried back home, satisfied. Even though it was dawn again and he had had no sleep he was filled with energy and his step was light as he ran back up the stairs. Annie was waiting for him.

"She's just lying there, gazing into space," she told him worriedly. "And she's cold even though I've wrapped her in all the padded quilts."

He went to look at her. He called her name and took her hand, but she did not respond and he was worried because he knew she was in deep shock. "I will fetch the healer," he said, hurrying away.

He returned fifteen minutes later accompanied by a broad-browed Chinese man carrying a black bag. As Annie watched in amazement, instead of listening to her heart and taking Francie's temperature, the Chinese doctor tested all the pulse points for their twenty-eight different qualities, and from this he made his diagnosis.

"She is in a state of shock," he confirmed, writing a prescription for Lai Tsin to take to the medicine shop. "She must drink this potion three times each day. She must be kept warm and fed only on boiled ricewater for two whole days. I can do nothing for the fear in her head, but this will be effective in curing her body." He looked angrily at Lai Tsin and said something in Chinese and Lai Tsin shrugged.

"What was he so angry about?" Annie demanded, after he had gone.

He met her eyes, he knew he must tell her now because he was afraid. Francie might do something foolish. "He told me what I already knew. That Francie is going to have a child. He was angry because he thought that I was the father, and he disapproved."

Annie stared blankly at him, her heart filled with pity as she thought of Francie worrying about her secret all alone. Realization slowly dawned on her and she said, "The child will be Josh's."

"That is so. I saw how she tried to hide it. I waited for her to speak because I did not want her to lose face. But now I am afraid for her. She may do something very foolish. She will need your help, Annie. You must take her away from here, take her away from Chinatown, from San Francisco, from everything she knows and those who know her and seek to do her harm."

Annie looked at him bewildered, the news about the baby had driven everything else out of her head but now she remembered Sammy. She stared, shocked, at the mask Lai Tsin showed her and she nodded as he repeated the description the barman had given him. "That'll be Sammy all right," she said bitterly. "How could he do such a thing? He must be insane."

"He is insane with jealousy. His love for your brother is mixed up with his hatred for women. It is not uncommon for a man to love another man, but it does not usually lead to such violence."

Annie blushed, he was talking about things she had barely heard of except in the Bible. "But Josh wasn't like that."

"That was Sammy's tragedy. Maybe if Josh had loved him, too, this would not have happened. Now you must take Francie away," he repeated wearily. "It is not good for her to live here. The Chinese do not like it. They believe she is my concubine. When she has her child they will think it is mine. I cannot allow them to say such things about her. She will be treated with contempt and indifference by my people and by her own. She would live in a no-man's land, neither one thing or the other. And her child would suffer the same fate. Take her away, start a new life with her. You are my family and I will take care of you and send you money. It is only right."

Annie heard the sadness in his voice and she pitied him his loneliness, because she knew he loved Francie dearly. Nevertheless she felt the stirrings of a happiness in her own heart as she thought about Josh's child. She would take Francie far away from here. She still had money, they could buy another boardinghouse somewhere else and she could earn enough to raise the child properly. She couldn't wait to tell Francie that instead of despair her child would bring great happiness into the world.

Lai Tsin left her and went back to his room. It was the only room he had ever had of his own and this was the first time he had closed the door without a feeling of pleasure. He lit the incense taper in the painted tin holder, unrolled his bedmat and lay down. He put his hands behind his head and reran the events of the night in his mind. Tomorrow Sammy Morris would be found and he knew what he had to do. And in a few days' time, when she was feeling better, Francie would leave him.

A bitter feeling of loneliness swept over him. He had felt it many times before, only now it was worse. He told himself that when you are alone you have nothing and you have nothing to lose. But when you have savored the pleasure of companionship and love, then to lose it was the worst thing in the world. The gods had been good to him for a while and now they had taken their favors away. So be it.

CHAPTER 19

The next evening at seven o'clock, Lai Tsin went to see the Elder and get his answer. The old man bade him enter and he sat opposite him, stroking his white beard and eyeing him solemnly.

Lai Tsin waited. It would be disrespectful to ask the old man to hurry; he would speak in his own good time. "Before I tell you what you wish to know I must ask what your intentions are," he said at last.

"It is better that I keep my own counsel, Honorable Grandfather," he replied guardedly, but the old man refused to be deceived.

"It would not be seemly to bring violence and disgrace into the Chinese community."

"Honorable Grandfather, we are talking of a person who is more violent than the hatchet men of the tongs, a man who has killed many women and even now seeks to kill another—"

"Your
concubine."
The Elder's eyes were contemptuous and Lai Tsin hung his head. The old man thought for a long time while Lai Tsin stared at his shoes, waiting, until finally he made his decision.

"I have investigated your story," he said calmly. "What you said about the concubine was true. But I also know she is from a great family. Your passion must be strong for you to play such a dangerous game with such important personages. It would be better for all of us if you were to return her to her own."

"Then it would be better if I killed her!" Lai Tsin's eyes were angry and the old man knew he meant it. His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded, thinking hard before he spoke again.

"If this murderer were Chinese we would deal with him in our own way. But if your decision is final then you shall have your answer. On these conditions: Whatever happens to this man shall never be known, you will not tell me or anyone else. There must be not a whisper that would undermine the honor of the Chinese community."

Lai Tsin leaned forward in the slippery blackwood chair. He said, "I agree, Honorable Grandfather." Then he listened, surprised as the old man told him what he had found out.

He bowed to him as he left, thanking him, but the old man turned away, saying dismissively, "The words have already flown from my mind. I remember nothing of this conversation."

Lai Tsin walked slowly home and for once his mind was not on his business but on what he must do. Annie met him at the door. Her shirtsleeves were rolled up and the little room shone from polishing, but her brown eyes were very anxious. "She is awake," she said agitatedly. "She took the potion and a little of the boiled ricewater. Then I talked to her about the baby. She cried on my shoulder, she was so relieved. Then I told her we must go away but she just shook her head and said she would never leave you."

"I will speak with her."

Francie was lying stiffly in the narrow bed, her hands clenched into tight fists. Her eyes were closed but her face was not peaceful; tension seemed to radiate from her.

"Sammy Morris will never harm you again. This, Lai Tsin promises you. Do you believe me, Francie?" She nodded slowly, but her eyes remained tightly shut.

He crouched by her side and took her hand. "It is time to leave, Little Sister," he said. "Your life journey must continue without Lai Tsin. Like Little Son, Philip Chen, your child must be brought up among his own people, knowing their ways and understanding his heritage." She lay stiff and silent, but he continued talking in a soft persuasive voice, explaining that she must put her child first, that Annie would help her, that he would look after them because they would always be his family. But she must go.

She held his hand to her face. "You are my friend," she whispered. "I'll never leave you."

Their eyes met for a long moment and he said, "Then I must tell you a story so that you will understand your new responsibilities. Listen to me and you will know you have no choice." She clung to his hand, gazing trustingly at him as he began the story that was engraved on his soul. "My sister, Mayling, and I were born into a world of poverty, the children of the concubine, Lilin. Our father, Ke Chungfen, was already an old man of sixty years, gray-haired and bent and cruel. His Number One wife had died after giving him five sons and he had married again quickly because more sons meant more comfort in his old age.

"His Number Two wife was young and pretty but she was also barren and lazy and he cursed the day he had married her. His house was dirty and it was said she smoked opium all day and took young lovers and made a fool of him, even though he beat her every night to teach her a lesson.

"He asked around the villages for a
mui-tsai,
a young girl whose family were willing to sell her into servitude. Lilin was thirteen years old and her family was so poor they were glad to let her go for the miserly sum of only forty
yuan,
just so they would not have to fill her rice bowl every night.

"She had a sweet oval face, long, shiny black hair to her waist, and big dark eyes. It was not long before the old man claimed more than he had paid for with his miserly forty
yuan
and young Lilin became his concubine. He treated her cruelly, beating her even though she worked hard to please him. She was forced to clean their poor rooms, to wash their clothes and prepare their food, and to wait on the wife and the arrogant young sons, who copied their father by berating her continually. And she would hang her head meekly and promise to try harder to please them, for she was only a paid-for
mui-tsai
and had no rights."

Lai Tsin's eyes met Francie's as he said, "When Lilin knew she was to have a child she prayed it would be a son so he might have a better chance in life than she had, for even though the son of a
mui-tsai
would be considered the lowest of the low, he would never be as low as a girl. She worked even harder, staying up half the night to sew the little flat cotton shoes that the eldest son, a boy of thirteen, would sell in the marketplace. The father tended the big white ducks on the flat, reedy ponds belonging to the village lord, and the other sons worked picking mulberry leaves or in the rice fields, depending on the season.

"Lilin was filling their wooden lunch boxes with boiled rice to take to the fields when the pains struck and she knew the child was finally coming. When the pains became too bad to continue her work, she went to lie on her bedmat. No one came near, even though the Number Two wife heard her screams, and when the child was born it was a girl. Lilin wept, but the baby resembled her and she was someone to love, an infant who one day would love her in return. She gave her a pretty name, Mayling, and took the family name, Ke.

"Now she had to work even harder, looking after her child as well as all the household tasks, and she was forced to keep the baby quiet and out of sight because nobody wanted to be disturbed by its crying.

"One night she heard Ke Chungfen quarreling with his Number Two wife. Their voices were raised in anger. She was laughing at him, mocking him. The stink of her opium pipe crept through the thin screens and the voices got louder and then suddenly there was just silence. The next morning the old man said that his wife had died in the night from smoking too much opium.