A Concubine for the Family: A Family Saga in China (34 page)

A family of Europeans entered. They walked straight to the front of the line, where the white officers smiled and greeted them and processed their papers immediately.

“Why aren’t they lining up like everyone else?” Silver Bell asked.

“They must be important people,” replied Purple Jade.

“No.” Silver Bell wiped her forehead. “I played with their little girl yesterday. She said her father is a clerk in the Jardines Company.”

Still another European family was given preferential treatment.

“Whites are treated differently here.” Golden Bell clenched her fist.

“Speak quietly, children.” Her mother shaded her eyes against the intense tropical sunlight. “I’ve heard of the white man’s arrogance. These people are not like Dr. Rankling and Miss Tyler. Hong Kong might be different because it is a British colony.”

“Most people are Chinese, so what’s the difference?” Silver Bell pouted.

“The difference is that Great Britain is not at war with the East Ocean Devils.” She fought an impulse to close her eyes—not knowing whether it was the indignities or the glaring light that pained her. “Anyway, it is imprudent to display your emotions. If you want to see your father again, please keep quiet.”

Both girls fell silent. Another European appeared. He directed a porter with two cartloads of boxes, stamped with bold letters: “FRAGILE!” “ANTIQUES!” “HANDLE WITH CARE!” He held out a stack of papers for the customs officials, who shunted aside a waiting Chinese family. It was obvious that the white man would not trust his precious cargo to the luggage handlers. He was going to take a long time to go through customs. The Chinese in the long line began to murmur and fidget. The officer held out his nightstick with both hands. Extending it in front of his chest, he continued to shout: “Stay in your queue, stay in your queue.”

The Huang girls grew sullen and peevish. Their morning vision of living in a tropical paradise vanished, and the heat and humidity intensified their bitter realization that they were once again a subjugated people — second-class citizens in their own land.

“Number-one boy!” The haughty police inspector snapped his fingers at a middle-aged ship steward wearing a white Chinese jacket. “Bring lemonade for everyone. We’ll have many more hours of processing here.” He scowled at the line of Chinese.

Silver Bell asked, “Why does he call that man a ‘boy’?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps he made a mistake.” Her sister edged toward a shady spot between the lounge windows. “I’d love some lemonade.”

“Look at all the hair on that foreign devil’s arms and legs!” Winter Plum whispered to Comely Brook.

“It is no wonder we call them barbarians,” Comely Brook replied under her breath.

“Don’t get near them. They smell to high heavens!” Winter Plum tried to sound superior to counteract the arrogance of the white men. She fanned herself.

“When people have active sweat glands, it is difficult for them to control their odor. That would apply to the Chinese as well.” Purple Jade motioned toward everyone on line.

Comely Brook eyed the hairy inspector with disgust. “The barbarians smell particularly bad when they’ve had whiskey and raw meat!”

“The barbarians also take meticulous care to stay clean and neat. We Chinese have a great deal to learn from them.” Purple Jade spoke somberly, remembering the antiseptic smell and sparkling orderliness of Dr. Rankling’s hospital.

“Number-one boy, get more boys to help you serve!” The officer commanded as the steward came forward pushing a cart loaded with glasses and several pitchers of lemonade. The steward looked vacant. He did not move.

“Go!” the officer bellowed. His face deepened in color. “These Chinese have to be taught everything?”

His remark ruffled a man behind the Huang family. He asked in a clear voice: “How is it possible that these people came from around the world to buy our antiques, but think we need to be taught everything?”

When the steward left, a thin Chinese man in a Sun Yat-sen suit spoke, “Brothers and sisters of our country, let’s help ourselves. Since there aren’t enough glasses, each family will share one or two.”

People mumbled. The cart was pushed up and down the line as the Chinese helped themselves to the lemonade.

When the steward returned with several helpers, they were no longer needed. The officer pretended he hadn’t noticed. The steward came forward, bowed, and asked with exaggerated courtesy, “Sir, is there anything else I may do for you?” To the Chinese he gave a sidelong glance of pleasure.

“Bring the officers some iced tea,” the officer barked. He strode away.

A man behind them spoke to the Huangs. “The white officer acts like a petulant child.” He tilted his goatee toward him. “His arrogance is irritating everyone. The British masters are foolish to alienate the natives at this time.”

“He called the steward a ’number-one boy’ as if he were a superior master.” Golden Bell seethed.

“No, young lady,” the man replied. “The superior master would call a servant ‘old Chen’ or ‘old Wong,’ because he knows that a servant given dignity will render good service. When a man is called a boy, he is robbed of his manhood, and someday he will behave like an irresponsible boy. The officer is sitting on a volcano here.”

The man bowed to Purple Jade: “I’m Shih Tar Hai, from Jiang Su Province. My business is in Shanghai. I’m going to buy English wool in Hong Kong.”

“Most happy to meet you, Mr. Shih.” Purple Jade returned the bow. “My husband works for the
New Island Daily News
here. Thank you for enlightening our daughters.”

“Did you say Hong Kong is a volcano?” Silver Bell asked, wide-eyed with alarm.

“Bow to Shih
ba-ba
first, Silver Bell,” Purple Jade reminded her.

“Shih
Ba-ba
.” Silver Bell bowed. “Are we on a volcano?”

Golden Bell shook her upturned hands in exasperation. “Not your kind of volcano!”

Mr. Shih smiled. “Native discontent can create an explosive situation. The white man must have the cooperation of the Chinese if he wishes to remain here.”

“I hope they get our cooperation,” Purple Jade mumbled. “The British are so haughty. The Japanese promised us a ‘co-prosperity sphere.’ No wonder so many Chinese want to cooperate with them.”

“Oh yes, that is just what Mr. Kam . . . said.” Golden Bell checked herself just in time. She turned quickly to face the customs table. “Why, it is almost our turn.”

She need not have worried that her mother would discover the identity of Mr. Kamasaki. Looking out the window, over the custom officers’ heads, Purple Jade’s heart swelled as she caught sight of her husband pacing on the far side of the dock. The straw-colored bowler hat was uncharacteristic, but the simple cream-colored Chinese robe was unmistakable. The way the hands were held — gently knotted in the back — the slow pacing with the abrupt turn were distinctive. Purple Jade’s months of loneliness, the sense of her solitary burden, and the memory of the nauseating ocean passage evaporated. She stared for a whole minute as if her breath had failed her. Totally unselfconscious, she stretched both arms before her and let out a soft moan, her eyes welling with tears. The eyes of her family followed her yearning arms, and the girls began to shriek in recognition.

Golden Bell’s excellent English sped up the immigration process. They were soon cleared for disembarkation.

As the family came on shore, Righteous Virtue rushed forward with outstretched arms.

The girls raced ahead to hug their father, who looked tanned and happy. Purple Jade tarried behind. Righteous Virtue strode smiling toward her. She bowed. He clasped her trembling hands. “Now that my family is back together, I’m a whole man again.”

Purple Jade savored the protective grasp of her husband’s hands. Her composure restored, she turned and took Little Jade from her mother’s arms while Comely Brook and Winter Plum bowed. The heat and the wait had exhausted the baby. She was now sound asleep. Opening her eyes for a brief moment when she was transferred into Purple Jade’s arms, she smiled.

“Look at our new daughter!” Purple Jade beamed. Her husband returned Comely Brook’s bow and looked fully into the baby’s sleepy pink face. “Ah, this is Little Jade. I’m thankful for this new life.” He smiled and mumbled almost to himself. Indeed, the dewy face before him had awakened the wild vigor of his youth. He turned and placed his arms around his elder daughters.

He led the girls with their luggage to a waiting cab. Winter Plum supervised another. The baby and Comely Brook got into yet another cab with more luggage, as Righteous Virtue led the convoy with Purple Jade, driving his Buick with the remaining baggage.

Fatigue and the joy of reunion mingled with all the strange sensations of a new place. Purple Jade felt overwhelmed but noted that her household had been reduced from courts of flowering cherry, scented cedars and murmuring bamboo groves, to four dusty and rattling motor cars. A bittersweet smile graced her lips as she looked at her husband. She thanked her Buddha that her family, the vital force that sparked her fervor and maintained the sanity of her life, remained intact. Silently she prayed that she might again find another sympathetic soul like Dr. Rankling so that her involvement with medicine might continue. Yes, she implored her Buddha, let her new activities complement her family life, and she would be complete.

A
LL MEMBERS OF the Huang family began to learn the Cantonese dialect. Purple Jade studied it with special intensity. She knew her inability to communicate would doom her practice in medicine. Her association with Dr. Rankling had been the tonic of her cosseted life. She did not want to feel useless again. Although she had her own room now in their rented house on Blue Pool Road, Comely Brook was the housewife in this small home. She saw only one role for herself — “the small feet doctor.”

Over the chessboard on a quiet evening, Purple Jade extolled Dr. Rankling’s virtues to her husband. She expressed her sympathy, admiration and respect in oblique terms.

“Doctor Rankling’s gray eyes were often hooded by her migraine headaches.”

“I know. Her affliction led her to your acupuncture.”

“She has wavy hair, cut short and blunt, just above her ears.”

“Long flowing hair is usually more attractive in a woman.” Her husband concentrated on the game board.

“But Dr. Rankling is imbued with the spirit of service. Her short hair is more convenient. It does not require the kind of fussing long hair demands.”

“Perhaps that is why she’s not married.” Righteous Virtue laughed with a touch of sarcasm. “There are many young women working as secretaries in Shanghai and Hong Kong. Most of them putter away in their jobs until they find a husband.”

“They look very smart doing useful work.”

“Some of them may look glamorous, but your intellectual depth and Comely Brook’s simplicity far surpass the vagaries of modern fashion.”

“I wonder what kind of upbringing encouraged people like Miss Tyler and Dr. Rankling to become so generous and unstinting in their service.” Purple Jade rested her head on her palm, stopping the game. “By serving in China, their generosity is directed toward strangers, not their families!”

Righteous Virtue stared at his wife. Their common pride in their heritage had been so pervasive that neither of them considered the flip side of the coin: the tyranny of excessive family cohesion. Traditionally, all munificence outside the family was considered secondary.

“Of course, I could never turn away from the needs of my family.” Purple Jade returned her attention to the chessboard. “But would I be neglecting my duties toward you, my lord, if we found another woman doctor, like Dr. Rankling, with whom I might continue my apprenticeship?”

“Of course not, Jade-
mei
! Brook-
mei
is an able manager at home. I’m proud of your services in medicine. I’ll look into finding a woman doctor.” He beamed at his wife, happy with his own liberal inclinations.

“I have begun my studies in English, but it might be years before I can speak to the foreigners.”

“I can probably find you someone who speaks Cantonese.” His eyes turned to the game board and found his general under siege. “Ah, Jade-
mei
,” he exclaimed with a short laugh, “you’re the mainstay here!”

A week later, Righteous Virtue learned of a Dr. Margaret Crozier, a pediatrician, who was conversant in Cantonese. Purple Jade telephoned for an appointment for Little Jade’s physical.

Dr. Crozier, only thirty-two years old, was trained in midwifery at Charing Cross Hospital, London. She branched into pediatrics in the colony, where certification procedures were lax and Western doctors in great demand.

She had come to the colony five years ago with her husband, who was a senior cadet — or a “griffin”, as the British called them — for the Taipans of the Swires House. The European community in Hong Kong enjoyed a life of elegance and luxury, made possible by an abundance of cheap servants and an unregulated economy. The popular gossip among the colonists was that the slant-eyed Chinese women possessed alluring wiles and a secret sexual prowess. Once established as wives or concubines, they wallowed in a life of material pleasures.