Hers the Kingdom (66 page)

     The boy threw the lemons at his feet, trying to mask defeat in contempt. Porter calmly picked them up and, surprising me once again, handed them to Willa.

     It was a small incident, but it had its effect. The
soldaderas
now looked away, allowing their eyes to roam over the house and the hills beyond, not looking at the knot of women who stood together on the arcade.

     "They say the bunkhouse will do," Pablo said to Willa.

     "Tell them to be careful about fires," Willa repeated once again, as much to exercise control as anything.

With the arrival of the
rurales
and their
soldaderas
, the whole tenor of ranch life changed. Their very presence—the sounds and smells that emanated from their camp, the raucous laughter and, sometimes, the arguments—made it seem as if we had been transported to another country. Knife fights, we knew, were not unusual. Occasionally a gun would be fired.

     "Sometimes I think they will declare war on each other and we will wake up one morning to find everyone in that encampment dead," I told Soong.

     He was wary of the
rurales
, and with good reason. They had quickly established an attitude of disdain for the Chinese orchard men and gardeners. In the first week there had been several incidents that could have been ugly. The
Adelinas
and their children were like some pestilence in the orchards, stripping a tree of its fruit in a single hour. When the Chinese objected—in their smiling, deprecatory way—the Mexicans only spat on them. Only Soong—because of his size, I believe, and his Spanish—could dislodge them from a tree. This, of course, did not endear Soong to the Mexicans, and he became a target.

     "I've already spoken to Willa about the way they treat the Chinese," I told Soong, "and I'm going to say something to Thad and Pablo. If anyone can control these strange creatures, it should be Pablo."

     "Remember," was all he said, "I was the one who helped Wen escape after the attack on Pablo's sister. Don't think he has forgotten. And Thad, too—I interceded when he whipped the young Chinese that time. Those two, Thad and Pablo, have long but selective memories. Don't count on their help."

Still, we lost no more pigs that year, and our herds went unscathed. Trespassers—including surveyors who came with court orders to lay out a county road—were turned back. When they returned with lawmen to oversee their intricate measurements, they were carefully watched. (These same careful measurements were undone by pigs turned loose to root up the place.)

     Rumors began to circulate in Santa Monica. It was said that men had disappeared into the Malibu, that they had gone in and nobody had heard from them again. It was said that Willa Reade herself patrolled the borders, a six-shooter on each hip.

     That much, I knew for sure, was wrong. Willa occasionally did visit what she called "border points" but now she was driving her Pierce-Arrow, and she kept the gun in the pocket compartment.

Sara had spent the fall and the early part of the winter in Paris. The Atlantic crossing had been a trial, she said, and she had looked forward to nothing so much as relaxing at the ranch, where she expected the usual pastoral peacefulness.

     "What has happened here?" she moaned, "the Malibu feels like an armed camp."

     In fact, we had grown somewhat used to it by now, had even learned to coexist with the separate camps—the
rurales
and their women, the ranch hands and the Chinese. Until Sara arrived to point it out, I had become inured to the tension that existed.

     Minor incidents continued to occur. Early one morning I went to the family orchard to pick some tangerines for breakfast, and surprised one of the
Adelinas
stripping a tree.

     A Chinese gardener—little Loo Sin—was watching her, but had said nothing. My appearance reminded him that he must
make an effort to protect the trees, and he came running at the woman, urging her in rapid Chinese to stop.

     Fear flickered momentarily over her face at the sight of the two of us, then it was replaced by bravado. She flew at the poor little Chinese and pummeled him to the ground, screeching all the while. I ran to his aid, trying to pull the woman away, and before I knew what had happened, her fingernails tore a long slash down my cheek.

     Then I had a sense of her flying through the air. It took a long moment to realize that Soong had arrived and had flung her from me with such force that she hit the ground with a hard thump. She sat there, stunned—looking at Soong with purest hate in her black eyes, muttering imprecations under her breath.

     "Get out of this garden," Soong said to her in his perfect English, then he repeated it in Spanish, adding some words I was not familiar with, and which produced an animal, hissing sound low in the woman's throat.

     I went to find Thad and Pablo, ignoring for the moment Soong's wish to wash and clean the scratch on my face. I wanted them to see it, to see what the Mexicans were capable of doing.

     "You must do something about those women, they are stealing everything they can get their hands on . . ." I began.

     "It is their job to get food for their men," Pablo said.

     "They are given enough food and you know it," I told him. "They have no right to scavenge—to act like animals."

     Thad looked at Pablo, who looked away.

     "We'll straighten it out, Auntie," Thad said, "you'd better get that scratch cleaned out."

     "That woman, she threatened Wing Soong," I insisted. I would not let them ignore it. "I want it stopped—this terrible disdain for our Chinese."

     "They may be your Chinamen, Miss Lena, they're not mine," Pablo said, with an insolence that was new to me.

     I was struck dumb. "I helped rear you, Pablo," I said to him, "and
so did Wing Soong and the other Chinese. They were kind to both of you when you were children, and both of your fathers admired and respected Wing Soong. You would do well to remember that."

     "I remember times when the big Chinaman worked against us," Pablo said, his face set.

     Soong's words came back to me, and I shivered. "I'm sorry you have such a selective and faulty memory," I said, as cold as he, "but I have to insist that you keep those people out of our gardens, and away from the Chinese."

     "Mother's already given us a lecture on the subject," Thad said, drily. They turned and started to walk away from me. "Stop, both of you," I said. "I want an answer. Are you going to do anything about what is going on here?"

     Pablo answered, "I cannot control human nature—it is in the nature of the Mexicans to hate the Chinese heathens."

There was little time for us to be alone. Soong was preoccupied with the gardens as well as with the work with Homer Lea, training young Chinese at his Western Military Academy. I was beginning to believe that the long, private afternoons in the hills were a thing of the past. The few times we managed to go off together, Soong was wary the whole while. I knew he worried that one of the Mexicans would follow us and discover our secret. It would be a powerful weapon to use against us.

     For this reason, I was surprised when Soong said we must meet. We chose an isolated spot near the beach, a place overgrown with maidenhair fern, warm and sheltered from the winds. It was, in fact, our favorite place. We had spent long, pleasant hours there, but this was not to be a time of pleasure.

     "You are troubled. Tell me why," I began.

     He smoothed my hair from my face with his hands, holding to me at the nape of my neck, looking as if to see within me.

     "Troubled . . . yes. Things are not as good at the ranch, you know that. I worry that you or the children may be caught . . . hurt." With a finger he gently traced the scratch left on my face by the
soldadera.
"She-devil," he said under his breath. "The
rurales
, they deserve their reputation."

     "Reputation?" I asked.

     "For being vicious, cruel. The peasants of Mexico hated—dreaded—them. That is why Ignacio was so ashamed of Pablo, for being one of them."

     "I should tell Willa; if she knew . . ."

     "She knows," Soong said cryptically, but before I could question him, he went on.

     "I think you should go into the city with the children. Say you feel they should be in a school for a time. Say anything you need to say, but go."

     I was shocked. "Go into the city . . ." I echoed him. "Soong, why would we do that? Sally is teaching them here, she is remarkable, you said so yourself. And the ranch hands' youngsters; they get the benefit of the schooling too. How could I possibly close the school? What would Sally do?"

     "I know," he said, walking away from me, folding his arms and looking out to sea. "But when Sally leaves . . ."

     "Leaves?" I said, further surprised. "Why would she leave? She hasn't given even a hint that she is dissatisfied—except, of course, with the
rurales
and their women, like the rest of us."

     "Pablo has had an effect on Thad," was all Soong would say. "And that has to have an effect on Thad and Sally."

     "Even if Sally should leave," I went on, "why should I take the children away from here—from you? They belong with us both, I belong with you."

     He took my hand and pulled me close.

     "Yes, you do, my love. And we will always be together, even when we are apart." It was a solemn pronouncement; I did not want to understand.

     I looked at him, and knew my eyes told him not to say it, not to go on.

     "We must be apart."

     He had said the words. They came crashing on me with such force I thought I would suffocate, thought I could not breathe. I let the silence grow between us until it became too heavy to bear. Pushing it back, pulling away from the darkness, I said, "When?"

     "Soon," he answered. "Sun has sent for me. The revolution has started, at long last. The last contingent of officers are trained. Homer is with Sun in France now, raising needed funds. I am to go directly to Nanking."

     Dark edges moved about the periphery of my vision. Concentric circles of darkness closed in, until I could see only Soong's face. I pressed into his chest, trying to hold the darkness back. I would not allow it to engulf me.