The Girl Who Wrote in Silk (28 page)

Mei Lien closed her eyes to block out the images. She didn’t have time to redo this work. She didn’t have time to fix her mistakes and still finish the whole story before her strength failed her.

Not finishing was not an option. She’d wanted to be finished by now so Yan-Tao could take the robe with him, but she hadn’t been able. That was fine, because she’d figured out that part of the plan too.

Her plan was precise. It left no room for error, and so far she’d discovered two errors: Elizabeth’s refusal and her shameful work.

She should give up. Right now. She should wrap up the embroidery and sink it to the bottom of the sound for it was not fit for human eyes. Any eyes, but most certainly not her son’s eyes. This was to have been a gift for him, his one link to his ancestral past and to the story of how he’d come to be. This embroidery, which she’d planned for her son to wear at his wedding, was his road map to his origins and the answers to questions he might someday have.

But she’d failed.

“Oh, isn’t that nice?”

Mei Lien jerked her head up and her eyes flew open. Elizabeth stood over her wiping her hands on a dish towel as her eyes raked over the evidence of Mei Lien’s shame.

Immediately, Mei Lien reached for the covering cloth to hide it from sight.

“No, wait. What’s this here? Is that Joseph?”

Even as she let the cloth fall back again, Mei Lien hated the way she’d always felt like a servant to her sister-in-law. She hated that, even now, she obeyed Elizabeth. “Yes, that’s him, holding Yan-Tao as an infant. I found them standing in the field like that one day the summer after Yan-Tao was born. It looked to me like Joseph was showing his son around the farm so that Yan-Tao knew where his soul had landed.”

“Joseph looks happy.”

Mei Lien tried again to cover it up. “How can you know? It’s just an embroidery.”

Elizabeth grabbed the covering cloth and prevented Mei Lien from pulling it over the fabric and hiding it away. “You don’t see it, do you?”

She dropped her hands to her lap in defeat. “See what?”

Instead of answering, Elizabeth lifted the robe from the frame, ignoring Mei Lien’s protests, and carried it across the room where she held it up. “Look now,” she commanded. “Do you see it?”

Instead of looking at the embarrassing embroidery, Mei Lien stared at her sister-in-law. “Be careful with that.”

Elizabeth lifted the robe higher. “May, look at Joseph. This could be a photograph, but in color. I had no idea you could do this.”

Mei Lien did look, and felt her heart catch. Seen from this distance, Joseph appeared alive as he smiled at her. Joy and pride radiated from him as he held his newborn son. Tears blocked her vision and Mei Lien had to close her eyes to shut out her husband’s image.

The water shouldn’t have taken him. He should be here with their son, helping Mei Lien fight whatever was killing her. He should be here holding them together.

But he was gone and soon she would be too.

“Please, Elizabeth,” she begged, still with her eyes closed. “Please take Yan-Tao with you when you leave. I don’t have the strength to find anyone else. Do it because your brother loved his son so much. Please.”

Silence. The silence stretched for so long Mei Lien was sure Elizabeth had left the room. When she opened her eyes to make sure, she found her standing next to the embroidery frame, her eyes on her brother’s face on the cloth.

“I’ll take him,” she whispered. Then, before Mei Lien could react, she pivoted to face her. “I’ll take him,” she said again, louder now. “But I won’t let people know he is kin. You don’t know what my husband would do if…” She left the sentence unfinished.

“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Tears boiled behind her eyes again. “I’ll make sure he’s ready to go whenever you like.”

Elizabeth showed no emotion. She simply nodded, then hurried from the room. “We leave in the morning,” she said over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

Mei Lien felt a hole open up in the ground beneath her. This was her last night with her son in the house. Tomorrow would be her last morning to lay her eyes on his sweet, gentle face, kiss his soft cheeks, hold his lanky body.

“Elizabeth,” she called as she pushed to her feet.

“What?” came the irritated reply from the kitchen doorway.

“Help me up the stairs. I need to sleep with my son tonight.”

The grooves around Elizabeth’s mouth deepened, but she didn’t say anything as she helped Mei Lien up the stairs in the dark.

Exhausted and shaking from the effort, Mei Lien lay down on Yan-Tao’s bed and curled her body around his smaller one as he slept. Determinedly, she focused on imprinting him into every cell of her body. His every breath she breathed into her own lungs. His sweaty boy smell she took in so that it filled the darkest reaches of her soul.

No mother should ever have to say good-bye to her baby.

• • •

Morning came too fast and with it the hurried packing to get Elizabeth and Yan-Tao to the steamer dock in time for the single passenger and cargo pickup of the day. For Mei Lien, every moment leading up to her son’s departure was more painful than the last. Her bottom lip stung and she could taste blood from where she’d been biting it so hard.

There was too much left to tell him, too much yet to do.

Not enough time.

She lay on his bed, directing him in packing his belongings into the trunk Joseph had made her for her own clothing when they were newlyweds.
Joseph, you should be here
, she thought, not for the first time this morning.

“Mama, can Mutt come too?” he asked, referring to the dog trailing his every move.

“That’s not up to me. You’ll have to ask Elizabeth.”

Yan-Tao carefully placed the toy boat Joseph had carved for him into the trunk then closed the lid with a huge sigh. “Are you certain I must leave with her today? Who’s going to care for you?”

Knowing there would be enough time later to rest, Mei Lien forced herself to her feet so she could go to him. “My son,” she began, with her hands on his shoulders. “I’ll get by. When you leave here, I want you to remember me with life, not this wasting away shell that I’ve become.”

The flood of pain caused not by her body, but by her heart, made her knees shake, forcing her to sit on the edge of the bed. She gathered her son into her arms, bringing him to sit on her lap like he used to do as a small child. “Son, live happy and love deep.”

Her voice caught on the words as she heard the echo of her father’s voice saying them to her not so many years before. She squeezed her son against her. “Promise me, Yan-Tao. Promise to be strong and honorable. Work hard like your father and look for signs of us in the world around you. When my time comes, I’ll find a way to be near you.”

His body trembled and he sniffed. Mei Lien felt her own tears well up in response, but she pushed through the emotion. Now wasn’t the time. “Look for me in the leaves, the clouds, the birds. I don’t know how I’ll come to you, but I’ll be there. You will never be alone, Yan-Tao. Ever.”

Sobs burst out of him as he twisted around and flung his arms around her. His tears soaked her neck and she closed her eyes to better remember how they felt. Her hands rubbed up and down his back, feeling his bony ribs that would one day be covered in muscle. Agony rolled through her.

No. She opened her eyes. No, she must not give in yet. She must be brave for her son.

A noise in the doorway caught her attention and she turned to find Elizabeth standing there with a gloved hand over her mouth, her eyes surprisingly damp. But then she noticed Mei Lien watching her and she quickly dropped her hand and lifted her chin. “It is time,” she said with a catch in her voice. Her gaze shifted away and she busied herself with her hat.

Mei Lien squeezed her son against her one last time. “Don’t forget all that I’ve taught you. Don’t ever forget. Promise?”

He nodded as she set him away from her, his tear-streaked face twisted in anguish. “I p…promise.” His breath spasmed, nearly dragging him into another fit of crying, but he pulled himself together.

“Kenneth, can you carry the chest?”

Yan-Tao looked over his shoulder at his aunt then back to Mei Lien and she knew he was thinking of the name his aunt called him. Starting today, he would never again be Yan-Tao.

Mei Lien felt her own lungs spasm, but she swallowed hard and kept the sob from escaping.

“Yes,” he said bravely.

“Yes, what?” Elizabeth asked, eyebrows lifted.

His head bobbed. “Yes, ma’am. I can carry the chest.”

And
so
it
begins
, Mei Lien thought, wishing there was another way.

As Yan-Tao struggled with the chest, dragging it down the stairs so that it bumped against each step, leaving dents and deep scratches, Mei Lien followed behind, leaning heavily on Elizabeth’s arm. The dog ran in circles in the kitchen, excited by all the commotion.

Outside, Mei Lien saw Elizabeth had already loaded Joseph’s wagon with boxes of his clothing, the mirror he used to shave by, the rocking chair he’d made when Mei Lien was with child. Mei Lien looked at each item, jumbled there in the wagon, feeling each one in her memory like she was touching them now.

But it was just as well that Elizabeth was taking them. Better her than Campbell.

A flame of anger shot through her and she clung to it, knowing it would fuel her through the coming moments. Better to be burning with rage than melting with sorrow.

“Wait!” she said as she remembered. “Don’t go. There’s one more thing.”

As quickly as her weakened body allowed, Mei Lien made it to the sitting room and her embroidery frame, where the silk robe lay where Elizabeth had left it the night before.

Without stopping to consider her decision, she snatched up her shears and severed the unfinished sleeve, which she left hanging on the frame, tattered edges drooping toward the floor.

Carefully, she folded the rest of the embroidered robe into a small bundle, then wrapped it tightly in the protective covering cloth and tied all of it with a skein of embroidery floss. When she turned around, Elizabeth and Yan-Tao stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the kitchen doorway.

“Yan-Tao, this is for you. This is our shared legacy and the most important thing I have ever given to you. Keep it safe.” She looked at Elizabeth. “You will help him protect this?”

Elizabeth nodded, silent.

Satisfied, Mei Lien placed the bundle in her son’s hands. “I wanted to present you with a finished robe, but there wasn’t time. The story told there is not finished. I will finish the sleeve and I will leave it for you in your secret hiding hole where the
B
ok
Guey
cannot find it. You will come back and get it when you are grown, yes?”

He nodded, his red-rimmed eyes staring up at her. “You know about the hole?”

She smiled. “Of course. I am your mother.” She had to stop now and take a slow, deep breath before she could continue. “Go now. You don’t want to miss your boat.”

Yan-Tao put his head down and dove toward her, bouncing against her chest so hard she fell back a step but was able to stop them both from falling.

One last time she allowed herself the pleasure of holding her child. “I love you, Yan-Tao. If you remember only one thing, remember that.”

“I love you, Mama.” He hiccuped, crying again.

“We must go now,” Elizabeth grumbled. “The schedule says departure is at ten o’clock. We’re going to be late.”

“Good-bye, Yan-Tao.” Mei Lien set her son away from her and forced herself to drop her hands away.

He shook his head through his tears. “No, I can’t go. I’m not leaving you.”

“You must go. You cannot stay.”

His face crumpled. “But, Mama, I can help you. I can make you better. You’ll see!”

Mei Lien felt her insides twist painfully and the familiar nausea well up. She put her hand on her stomach and hunched her shoulders to relieve the pull. “The only way you can help me is to leave and give me the joy of knowing you have a future to live. Now go.”

“No, Mama!” He threw himself against her again but she didn’t relent. She caught him by the shoulders and stopped his headlong rush.

“No, Yan-Tao. You can’t stay. Go.” Gently she turned him so that he faced away from her and gave him a nudge in the back. “Go.”

Elizabeth pivoted to lead the way out the back door to the waiting horse and wagon. Yan-Tao followed more slowly, his head turned to keep his mother in his sight.

“
Zài jiàn
, Yan-Tao.”

“
Zài jiàn
, Mama.” With his head hanging so low his black hair hung into his eyes, Yan-Tao dragged his feet into the yard and climbed into the wagon next to Elizabeth. His dog jumped up beside him. Elizabeth let him stay there.

Mei Lien leaned against the kitchen doorjamb feeling like her heart had been ripped from her body and tossed into the wagon with the rest of her life. She watched her son hug the embroidered silk to his chest as he swayed to the movements of the wagon and wished with every hair on her body that she could call him back.

But he needed to go. This was his only chance for a future.

As the wagon headed out of the yard, Yan-Tao twisted to look back at her, his little hand lifted bravely to say good-bye. Mei Lien lifted her own hand and then, because they were torturing each other, she turned and shut the door, blocking him from her gaze and her from his.

As she leaned against the door, she closed her eyes. Suddenly she wasn’t standing in her own house, but on the deck of a steamship in the dark of night. She saw herself, perched on the railing, ready to jump into the cold waters below. Standing behind her was her father, his face bruised and bloody, but twisted in pain, not from his injuries but from the good-bye he was saying to her. As Mei Lien watched, her younger self reached a hand up to her father, begging him to let her stay but he shook his head, schooling his features to hide his sorrow.

And then, he lifted his hands and shoved her off the railing into the swirling ocean below.

Watching from this vantage point, Mei Lien now saw the way his whole body seemed to collapse into itself. The railing was the only thing keeping him upright as his eyes searched the water for his daughter.