Waxing Moon (18 page)

30

The waxing moon was thinly veiled with dark, rapidly moving clouds. An old owl in the pine tree behind Mr. O’s house stared down on the roof. Bok’s cat sat on the roof, snarling. Bok threw a stone at the cat and urged it to come down, but the cat seemed unimpressed by either the stone or Bok’s pleading. The stone he threw up fell back down and hit his own head. “How did you get up there?” Bok asked. The cat looked down at him and screeched again, looking up at the moon.

Bok gave up and went to the bathing place, where Mr. O had left a tub full of water and his clothes. He emptied the water and cleaned the wooden tub with a straw ball, applying ashes for the scrub. When he had tidied up everything, he picked up Mr. O’s laundry and took it to the hamper behind the kitchen. Mr. O’s laundry was not to be mixed with anyone else’s. Not even with Mistress Yee’s. And it was supposed to be folded and placed in the hamper neatly. So Bok took the time to do it. He heard whimpering from the corner of the laundry room. Frightened, he spoke softly, “Who’s there?”

Nani got up and said, “Separate the undergarments from the outer ones.”

“Big Sister, what were you doing there?” Bok asked.

“I was talking to myself,” Nani answered.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you talking to yourself?” Bok asked curiously.

“Bok, someday you will understand. Women sometimes have conversations with themselves. Don’t ask why. All right?” Nani said. She had actually been looking at an outfit that had belonged to Mistress Kim. After her funeral, Mistress Yee had ordered Mirae to incinerate all Mistress Kim’s belongings. The part-time workers and the maids hunted madly for things to keep for themselves. Nani guarded her mistress’s things fiercely, but in the end, most of them were taken, and Nani resigned herself to thinking that it was good that some of Mistress Kim’s things had survived. She kept one of Mistress Kim’s outfits, not to pawn or to wear, but for the sake of the memory. It was a pine-nut-colored outfit that Mistress Kim had loved. Nani had stroked it fondly tonight. Was it really she who had spoken through the dancer? Now some doubts rose in her mind.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nani asked.

“Were you really having a conversation with yourself, Big Sister?” Bok asked, looking innocent.

“Go to bed,” Nani said.

“Big Sister,” Bok began, smiling shyly.

“Don’t pester me now,” Nani scolded him.

“I am still hungry,” Bok said, rubbing his little belly.

Nani stepped out of the laundry room, and Bok followed her to the kitchen. She scooped out a bowl of rice and poured vegetable broth over it. He began to devour it happily.

“Don’t eat fast. You are going to have a stomachache,” Nani advised him. She stood up and got a quail egg marinated in seasoned soy sauce. She put it in his mouth and licked her fingers. “It didn’t turn out good this time,” she commented.

“Well, it’s the best thing I’ve ever had,” Bok said, grinning, wanting one more.

“It’s for your master’s breakfast,” Nani said.

Mirae came in, surprising them.

“What a piglet you are!” Mirae said, raising her eyebrows. “You eat all day long,” she said.

“I am a growing boy,” Bok replied, pouting, but still chewing the food.

“What is it?” Nani asked anxiously.

“Nothing. I am going to make some tea for Mistress Yee,” Mirae said.

“Tea, at this hour?” Nani asked.

“Yes, tea. At this hour,” Mirae said.

“She will pee all night long,” Nani said contemptuously.

“I will tell her about your concern,” Mirae said sarcastically.

“I was concerned about you,” Nani said, thinking of the chamber pot that Mirae would have to clean the next morning.

Mirae didn’t get the meaning and put the teapot on the stove and prepared the tea leaves.

“Go to bed,” Nani urged Bok.

“All right, Big Sister,” Bok said and left the kitchen.

“I picked up the beads,” Mirae said, grinning.

It took a moment for Nani to realize what she was talking about. And she left abruptly, slamming the kitchen door behind her.

Mirae carried the tea on a tray. The moon was out, but strangely, it didn’t shine where she walked. After passing through the gate that led to Mistress Yee’s quarters, the ambushed cat jumped out from nowhere and shocked her. She dropped everything and broke the teapot. She cursed the cat, or was it a cat? She looked behind her but saw nothing. She picked up the broken ceramic pieces and went back to the kitchen and placed the tray by the stove for someone else to take care of. And she left again to go see Mistress Yee. She had not asked for tea. Mirae had made it as an excuse to go see her.

She announced her arrival and wondered if Mistress Yee would need anything.

“Come in, child,” Mistress Yee said from inside. She hadn’t called her “child” in years. Mirae stepped into her room and closed the door behind her. Mistress Yee was lying on her silk mat. She didn’t open her eyes.

“Sit down. I thought you might come,” Mistress Yee said, her eyes still closed.

Mirae waited impatiently for her mistress to verbally permit her to speak. Finally, Mistress Yee asked in her fuzzy, dreamy voice, “What is it? I am tired.”

“Mistress, I am frightened,” Mirae confessed.

“Of what?” Mistress Yee asked, opening her eyes.

“The doll. Do you remember?” Mirae said, trembling.

“What doll?” Mistress Yee asked, slightly grinning.

“The doll you asked me to make,” Mirae replied.

“For what? I don’t play with dolls anymore,” Mistress Yee said. She snorted.

“No, Mistress. On the night when Mistress Kim was having a baby.”

“Did you make a doll?” Mistress Yee asked.

“Yes, Mistress,” Mirae said softly.

“What for?” Mistress Yee asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, Mistress, do you really not remember the doll?” Mirae asked, baffled.

“No, but if you do, fill me in,” she said.

“Mistress Yee, you asked me to make a doll on the day that Mistress Kim began to have contractions,” Mirae said, finding it difficult to regurgitate the details of the crime.

“You are being convoluted, Mirae,” Mistress Yee pointed out, closing her eyes again.

“I brought the doll to you. And you pierced it with a needle. And I buried it by her quarters in the middle of the night,” Mirae said in her unsteady voice.

“Mirae, are you sure you are not making this up?” Mistress Yee asked.

“No, Mistress,” Mirae said.

“Why is it I have absolutely no recollection of this incident?” Mistress Yee asked, sitting up.

“I can take you to the place where I buried the doll,” Mirae suggested. “If you saw it, you would remember it,” she assured her. A certain nostalgia flooded Mirae’s chest. She was having an intimate conversation with her mistress again. Once, she had adored Mistress Yee and had done whatever it was she wanted.

Mistress Yee got up and said, unexpectedly, “Take me.”

Surprised, Mirae got up and led the way. This might be a chance to become friends again with her mistress. She would prove her loyalty. Mistress Yee would love her once again. A gem she was among the maids. Mistress Yee herself had said that once.

The moon was suspended in the middle of the sky, weeping. It didn’t shine. Mirae went without a lantern so as not to draw attention to Mistress Yee and herself. Mistress Kim’s quarters had been out of use since her death. Mirae led her mistress behind the building and looked about.

“It was around here,” Mirae said.

“Think carefully,” Mistress Yee said.

“Mistress, I need to get a hoe to dig. May I?”

“Sure, I will stay right here,” Mistress Yee said.

After Mirae left, a voice spoke from inside Mistress Kim’s quarters, giving Mistress Yee a deadly fright. The door opened from the inside and there stood Mr. O with his stern face.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Mr. O questioned her.

“Husband, I am confused and most embarrassed to be found here in the middle of the night. I know it’s not proper for me to wander about like this, but I am here under dire circumstances to be shown something that would solve the mystery that baffled me this evening. I will explain everything later. Would you please close the door and listen from within? I don’t think you need an explanation if you listen carefully,” Mistress Yee said most sincerely.

Mirae went to the tool shed and tried to find a hoe. When she grabbed one, the same cat sprang out again so that she felt like her heart stopped momentarily. She threw the hoe after the cat, cursing. But the animal disappeared. She picked up the hoe again and ran to Mistress Yee.

“Let me see. I am sure it was here,” Mirae hit several places on the ground with the hoe. She dug here and there unsuccessfully for a while.

“I don’t believe you have done such a thing,” Mistress Yee remarked.

“I would bet my life that I did, Mistress Yee,” Mirae said.

“There seems to be nothing,” Mistress Yee said.

“Ah, here, my lady,” Mirae said gladly, digging rapidly. “It’s right here.” Mirae took it out of the hole, shaking the dirt off the doll.

“My gods, Mistress!” Mirae gasped, dropping the doll on the ground.

“What is it?” Mistress Yee asked.

“It’s bleeding,” Mirae said, her voice trembling.

“What is that?” Mistress Yee asked innocently.

“It’s the needle-pierced doll I buried the night Mistress Kim was having a baby,” Mirae exclaimed, breaking down with fear. She sobbed.

“My gods, Mirae, how could you have done this?” Mistress Yee gasped, really surprised that her own scheme to ensnare her maid was remarkably ingenious. And she fainted, falling carefully on the ground.

Clenching his teeth, Mr. O closed his eyes as he listened. When he heard his wife fall, he came out of Mistress Kim’s front door quickly and hurried around the building to strangle the maid. The moon was now bright enough to see all that was going on in the backyard of the deceased Mistress Kim’s quarters.

Part Three

31

Min stared at his companion’s toes between which blood and oozing puss coagulated. The soles of his shoes completely worn out, his fungus-infested feet visibly suffered. Despite that, he had kept a steady pace behind Min for the past two days, but now he began to lag. Min picked up a stick and handed it to him.

He was feeling lightheaded and fatigued, Min could tell. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he started whispering. Min just waited patiently until Blane stopped babbling. Then they would resume their journey.

His eyes bloodshot, Blane suddenly let out a mournful squall. Min put his hand on his friend’s arm. Blane wanted to go home. Min understood.

The map of the world Blane had was fascinating. Min imagined a country full of people like Blane. He knew very well how hard it had to be to be singled out. For the past two days, children burst into tears at the sight of Blane or threw stones at him with such intense hostility. All his life, people had mocked Min for having a disability. It had become a part of his life. But when he saw how even children, well, especially children, reacted to Blane, he realized that it wasn’t him, possibly, that was wrong. Without rhyme or reason people had tortured him all his life for being different.

Min was the supplier of their meals as they traveled together: edible roots with fresh dirt still on them or raw eggs or acorn mush. When they were lucky, they got to roast a snake or grasshoppers. Blane frowned when Min skinned a snake. Min smiled, which he did sparingly. But in the end he convinced his companion to eat.

At night they lay several yards away from each other while a bonfire crackled in between them. There was nothing Min loved more than the night sky full of stars. Behind each star lay a story so complex and yet plain as his life. Before falling asleep, Nani came to his mind. Her childlike smile, her small feet that carried her everywhere so fast, her lips so endearing especially when she pouted in an exaggerated manner. Then he would fall asleep hoping for a dream of his sweetheart.

When a rooster yodeled, Min opened his eyes and smelled the cool earth that he so loved. Fresh air tainted with faint cow dung smell from the field. Inhaling deeply, he got up and in no time he was off to look for things to eat. He moved like a reptile. In a little while he returned to his friend, ashen-faced, fearful, and a heart full of loneliness. Min handed him mountain berries, one egg, and a pair of old straw shoes. The shoes fit him snuggly. Min grinned satisfied. No longer did Blane snatch from Min’s hand for he knew now he wouldn’t starve as long as he was with Min. But once he tasted the berries, he ate the rest hurriedly, making a mess all over his mouth. He refused to eat the egg. The texture of raw egg in his mouth repelled him. Min cracked it and dumped the whole thing into his mouth.

When the sun on the east resembled the color of someone’s throat, they got up and marched on. Min chose hilly paths, away from residential areas, to avoid people with ill feelings. Half a day later the two young travelers arrived at the belly of an ancient mountain, which was thickly dressed in luscious green and the atmosphere impregnated with unperturbed calm.

A temple was in sight. Min stopped at the entrance where the name of the temple was carved on a huge wooden board. He turned around and waited for Blane, who was at least thirty steps behind. He dried his forehead with his bare hand. He was hungry. Wan and fatigued, Blane let out a sigh as he approached.

After passing the humongous wooden statues of guardians painted in bright red, blue, white, and green, Min turned around to check on his friend. Blane’s jaw dropped staring at the guardians in awe.

When Mr. O’s father had passed away, Min had accompanied Mr. O and Mistress Kim seven times over forty-nine days to the ritual to send off the spirit to a good place. Min, a young lad then, played in the yard or wandered off in the mountains until the ritual was over by noon. He was there with Nani’s mom to aid their master and the mistress. He carried things.

Now they were passing the pagoda and a tree and an impressively old building, from which low rumbles flowed like ripples on an enormous lake. Min led Blane to a large stone tub where fresh water gushed down through a bamboo pipe, erasing all other sounds. Both Min and Blane gulped down water, washed their hands and filthy feet, and then drank more water. Min came close to his companion and pointed at his beard, dyed purple from the berries he had eaten that morning. Using Min as his virtual mirror, he cleaned his face carefully.

Min felt comfortable in the temple. It was his second home in a way although he had visited it fewer than two dozen times. He took his friend to the kitchen. It was empty, but as soon as they sat on the floor, a few monks entered followed by the head monk. Min got up rather frantically and bowed. The monks knew Min was a servant from Mr. O’s household and that he was born with numbed tongue, but who was this amazing-looking creature whose stare gave them goose bumps? His appearance shocked the monks, the head monk could see plainly, although no one gasped. He had heard about the new religion that missionaries had brought, promising salvation without effort and everlasting life in heaven, and that the most converts were peasants for it promoted equality of the classes.

As was the custom at the temples, no questions were asked, and all present were fed. Min made eye contact with Blane to make sure he didn’t worry about anything.

In the middle of the meal, Blane fainted. The head monk picked him up like a feather and carried him to a room behind the main hall and laid him on a cotton mat. The head monk peeled Blane’s eyes open and inspected them. Then noticing his feet, he went out with a novice monk who immediately heated the room with split wood. The head monk came back with a concoction of oil and juice from the stems of common plants to put onto Blane’s feet.

Min slipped into the main hall by stealth, vaguely remembering how he had fallen asleep behind the statue of the Buddha at the age of seven or eight. Mistress Kim had kowtowed without a break all that afternoon.

The Buddha he remembered seemed to have shrunken. But the smell, he had to close his eyes to fish out the scene that it evoked. But he couldn’t. He sat in the middle of the floor and observed the visage of the Buddha. His mind gradually drifted to Nani and her frown that made him think she was concerned about him. And then to Mirae and her hideous laughter. It had tortured him to say the least. She had ignored him whenever they had run into each other. Then recently she was sitting by the well. Watching her from behind, Min could tell she was crying. He went close and tapped on her shoulder. She turned around and got up. He was ready to hug her. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but then she laughed like she was mad. Suddenly she spat on him saying, “Don’t you ever come near me!” Min turned around and left her. He realized he had absolutely no feelings for her. It was Nani he had loved and would always love. Would she forgive him for having been with Mirae? He wasn’t entirely sure. Someday he would have to tell her about his misconduct.

Someone tapped on him. It was a novice monk. He said it was dinnertime. Wouldn’t he want to come with his friend? Min was dazed. He must have dozed off. It was the sweetest sleep he’d had in months. He got up and went to see Blane who was sound asleep. Thinking that his friend needed sleep more than anything, he didn’t bother to wake him. Instead he lay next to him and fell asleep so deeply that he couldn’t remember anything he dreamed the next morning when he awoke.

After breakfast, the head monk gave Min a pouch full of money. On the way down he handed it to Blane who wept before he took it. The only thing he had that was worth something was his gold ring from his grandmother. And frankly he didn’t know if that would pay for his fare back to his homeland.

Both young men were full of energy. They walked down fast, humming. The sun felt good on their shoulders. The world issued a new morning like a present, and the noisy chirping of the birds rendered giddiness in the young men’s throbbing hearts.