Down to a Soundless Sea (30 page)

The elder Fat thought for a moment and suggested that he take the refugees back north with him. They could hide in his cart until Salinas and then make their way to Watsonville without the worry of pursuit. Relieved of his dangerous burden, Han Foo Yeung could return to the mines with no one the wiser. He thanked the apothecary profusely and promised to send on important discoveries as they came into his hands. He then instructed the two laborers to hide in Master Fat’s cart and to do as they were instructed. Safety depended upon instant obedience to their benefactor.

The miners bowed, shouldered their meager bundles, and complied immediately. Then Sing Fat turned the cart around, not without some difficulty, and headed back in the direction
from which they had come. Han Foo Yeung did the same with a parting wave and a blessing.

At an accessible but otherwise hidden clearing three miles down the road, the four men made camp for the night. The elder Fat gauged their distance from the mines to be sufficient to avoid notice for one night. Sing Fat hoped he was right.

The two frightened Chinese miners fabricated a shelter for themselves from a piece of spare canvas Sing Fat always carried in the cart; then they were instructed to gather firewood for the night. While they were occupied, Sing Fat prepared a simple meal from the rations they carried. The apothecary sat by the little charcoal brazier opening the basket Han Foo Yeung had given him. Suddenly Sing Fat heard a deathly moan and looked up to find his teacher, head in hands, obviously the victim of some emotional distress.

A small sheet of paper he had been reading had fallen to the ground. At first Sing Fat thought his mentor had succumbed to some ailment. When his apprentice asked what pained his master, the elder Fat just shook his head and pointed to the paper. Sing Fat retrieved the handwritten note, but could not decipher what it said. The penciled characters were Chinese, to be sure, but not written in a manner he understood. It might just as well have been code, which in fact it proved to be.

When the elder Fat had recovered his composure, he took back the paper and looked at it again as though he thought he might have misread the message. Again he shook his head. An expression of profound melancholy settled on his brow, and he moaned sadly once more. Again Sing Fat asked the cause of his teacher’s distress.

With a voice broken by emotion, the elder Fat said that
Han Foo Yeung had written to say that the ailing miners had indeed died, but not in a manner he could have spoken of openly. He stated that the Italian and Portuguese miners, an ignorant, suspicious, and dangerous gang of barbarians, had not understood the cause of the illness afflicting their Chinese counterparts and feared imminent contagion. As a result they had perpetrated a terrible villainy that would more than likely go unpunished. Since the Chinese had been illegally imported, no one even knew the victims existed, so the barbarians were hardly likely to report the incident. It appeared the miners, fearing a foreign plague at their doorstep, had callously herded the ailing Chinese down an abandoned shaft into what they believed to be safe isolation. There had supposedly been an accident, according to the barbarians, and a mysterious explosion had collapsed the tunnel. The Chinese had all been killed or buried alive. No one knew for sure which.

The implication was so obvious that Han Foo Yeung felt no need to address the sorrowful circumstances further. He wrote that he was in the process of helping some of his compatriots to escape. He feared for their lives as witnesses to the crime.

For safety’s sake the note was not signed. The elder Fat committed the evidence to the flames just as the two mine coolies returned with arms full of firewood. As an aside, the elder Fat cautioned his pupil to speak about this matter with no one.

Han Foo Yeung had written his message in code for a reason. If the information it contained fell into the wrong hands, misery and bloodshed would most certainly ensue.

These were special circumstances and required a veil of silence. Ignorance was the best defense against suspicion. If
the miners surmised that outsiders knew the truth, the lives of the Chinese wouldn’t be worth the price of a pauper’s prayers. Sing Fat vowed never to speak of the matter without permission.

At first light the cart was on its way once more. Happily, there was no one on the road to take any interest in their movements, and a day later they made the outskirts of Monterey. It was there, and against all sound advice, that the two coolies decided to part company with the elder Fat and his apprentice.

The older laborer said that he had been a fisherman in his youth. He felt he could make a better living for himself jigging squid than he could hoeing weeds in a sugar beet field.

His young companion chose to follow his friend rather than endure hardship alone in a strange community where he knew no one. Life among the barbarians was difficult enough, but to labor without friends was more than he was willing to contemplate.

The elder Fat allowed his own arguments to fall away. These were men who retained their long-braided queues, which meant that they expected to return to China one day with money for their families. They had a right to choose their own destinies, but the apothecary reminded them that life in the fishing camps was hardly a step toward longevity.

The two men acknowledged this fact, but begged the elder Fat’s indulgence and advice all the same. Chow Yong Fat agreed to write a short introduction to a friend who owned squid boats that worked out of McAbee Beach and Point Alones, but beyond that he was unable to make any promises. The two coolies agreed this was the best course of action and thanked the venerable elder for his assistance. They
said that if it was at all possible they would repay the master’s kindness one day.

Sing Fat, though he kept his sentiments to himself, had been deeply moved by the plight of these men. He remembered the perpetual suffering of his fellow laborers in the placer mines. He knew the loneliness that came from facing death every day without the support of friends or family. He too had become determined that this would not happen to him. He would not, if the fate could be avoided, allow his line to wither in lonely servitude. He needed a family if his line were to survive the cruelties of an uncertain future, and thus visions of Sue May Yee came flooding back into his thoughts once more.

After they had deposited the two men near McAbee Beach with a note of introduction to Ng Tung, the fishing master, Sing Fat turned the cart east toward Salinas. He had wanted to ask the elder Fat for permission to visit Sue May Yee at nearby Point Alones, but his teacher seemed so anxious to return to his business that Sing Fat did not press the point.

He did, however, determine to broach the subject of his marital future as soon as possible. Sing Fat had more than enough gold on deposit to acquire a wife and go into business for himself without asking permission from anyone, but he liked the prospect of studying medicine under his teacher’s astute tutelage and would do nothing to unsettle his benefactor’s faith in him.

Sing Fat and his teacher reached Salinas late in the evening to find eight important messages pinned to the door of the shop. It seemed as though everyone had waited until their departure to come down with one illness or another. There would be no rest that night. The elder Fat instructed his apprentice
to go and tell the various people who had left notes that he had returned. He said they would keep the shop open all night, if necessary, to accommodate their patients, and that was just what they did.

Sing Fat was allowed to retire from his labors just before dawn, but even then, sleep was a long time in coming. Haunting daydreams of Sue May Yee now occupied every waking moment not dedicated to the concentration required by his work. He could not afford the distraction since his movements and decisions lay under the constant vigilance of his eminent teacher.

As the fates would have it, Sing Fat was not forced to broach the subject of Sue May Yee first. The following evening, while the elder Fat’s silent and aged housekeeper prepared a modest supper of vegetables and spiced rice, the apothecary cleared his throat and asked his student what ambitions he nurtured for the future. He said that his position required him to understand the depth of a student’s dedication to so complex a study as the one that now lay before him.

Sing Fat looked surprised, but blessed this invited opportunity to express his hopes candidly. At the very least he could not be accused of forcing personal considerations upon his generous benefactor. Here bloomed a chance for Sing Fat to accommodate his own visions without causing offense.

Sing Fat took a few moments to order his thoughts, bracing his purpose with solid reasoning so as not to sound like a mooncalf or an infatuated bumpkin. He then spoke his heart with the honesty and respect due a sincere question, but he spoke like one determined to prevail against all intervening demons of opposition. When it came to ways and means, hopes and dreams, Sing Fat was any man’s equal.

He began, as one might expect, with a catalog of gratitude and obligations. Sing Fat felt a profound responsibility to maintain his studies in his present capacity. His ambition embraced accreditation eventually, if he proved worthy.

But there was one caveat, one consequential key that was necessary to bind him to a world of measureless professional obligations. Sing Fat must anchor himself within the security and domestic joys of his own family, and to accomplish this he must have a wife. That wife could never be any other than the woman who helped save his life, Sue May Yee. The incomparable Sue May Yee and no other.

The elder Fat affected an expression of modest amazement and deep consideration. He set down his rice bowl and chopsticks and contemplated his pupil’s bearing and composure. He had been prepared for love’s heartfelt enthusiasm, of course, but not the rationality of purpose, the vehemence of assertion.

It was obvious at once that Sing Fat would have all or nothing. But nothing, in the company of Sue May Yee, was far preferable to everything without her. It seemed his student was willing to take on the responsibility of both worlds and, indeed, he possessed the funds to support his ambitions. Chow Yong Fat lifted his cup, sipped his tea, and closed his eyes, savoring its fragrance and flavor.

So be it, thought Chow Yong Fat. This distant clansman had showed undeniable courage in the raw process of simply surviving a world turned upside down, and he had done it using his wits as well as his back. Any bride would presume the fortunes of heaven had blessed her with a husband of character, intelligence, and tenacity of purpose.

The elder Fat set down his tea, picked up his rice bowl, and ate a small portion of vegetables. He took his time chewing
and all the while he clasped eyes with his young pupil in a noncommittal fashion. His hooded gaze betrayed no sentiment whatsoever. Sing Fat could feel the tension raising hairs at the back of his neck. His teacher eventually swallowed, allowed himself another sip of green tea, and waited a long moment. He then bowed his head and asked Sing Fat if he might be accorded the honor of presenting the future bride with her wedding regalia.

Though he could not permit himself the tears of relief and joy that he felt welling, Sing Fat bowed, sniffed back the catch in his voice, and said that such an honor was beyond his worthiness. He warranted that his own merits were of little significance in the schemes of heaven, but the virtuous and noble Sue May Yee would certainly imbue the gift with appropriate grace and radiance.

Sing Fat bowed again and in a stronger voice declared that his master’s sponsorship had given him the greatest pleasure he had known since his father had trusted him with his first book and taught him to read.

Chow Yong Fat rose and retrieved a beautiful bottle of golden rice wine and two translucent jade cups. He insisted that tradition demanded that the two men toast the occasion. He bowed slightly and said he would be delighted to stand proxy for Sing Fat’s noble father. He would give the first customary invocation of matrimonial longevity and heaven’s blessing of many strong and virtuous sons. Sing Fat gave the next toast, and after a few such rounds of celebratory wine the room took on a warm glow of familial commemoration. Sing Fat had missed the presence of such feelings, such moments. He laughed wholeheartedly at the thought of his prospective fulfillments as the head of his own family.

A few more libations to the gods of hearth and home and Chow Yong Fat insisted that it would be best to set about the wedding preparations at once. He suggested Sing Fat withdraw a small sum of money to purchase gifts for Sue May Yee and her relatives. It would be a small expense since her relations had dwindled to but a pitiful few. Her father-in-law would, of course, act on Sue May Yee’s behalf and, if Sing Fat approved, Chow Yong Fat would represent the groom in the customary negotiations. There could be no question of a dowry, unfortunately. The Yee clan had been forced to live from hand to mouth since the ocean demons had taken so many of their sons and brothers.

Sing Fat smiled and interjected that he would insist upon a dowry. A dowry of six seashells. One for every son he hoped to rear to flourishing manhood.

Sing Fat said he would take a small house near the shop and continue his duties and studies as before. Sue May Yee might then help with the shop business as well. The prospects shimmered with implied prosperity and good fortune. The rich soil of his dreams now possessed true spiritual roots and purpose, and Sing Fat was the happiest young man on earth.

The following week was crowded with activity. First Sing Fat discovered a great deal of shop work to snatch from disaster, and then there were the daily excursions with his nuptial sponsor to purchase the appropriate gifts for his prospective relations.

Some of these presents were deemed traditional, while other offerings were meant to fulfill appropriate needs. But the most important and thoroughly considered gifts were meant to turn the head of any young woman of modest qualities, and Sue May Yee was all that and much more.