Waxing Moon (26 page)

43

Min waited outside the pub the whole night. It was getting chilly toward dawn, and he huddled under a tile awning and fell asleep briefly. He woke up worrying that Mr. O might have left the pub. He stood at the end of the alley and kept vigil.

When Mr. O finally came out, Min automatically hid himself. But when Mr. O came close, Min stepped into his path.

Surprised, Mr. O fell back onto the ground. Min groaned and helped him up.

“What brings you here?” Mr. O asked and craned his neck to see if anyone else was around. He actually felt repelled to be facing Min.

Min stood there, looking at his own feet, a servant’s feet in a pair of straw shoes, and then he eyed Mr. O’s cowhide shoes. Was this his father? He didn’t know why he had waited all night long.

“I don’t know what to say,” Mr. O managed and tugged on his chin. He had no feelings toward the young man. The enormity of the newly discovered fact that his servant was his son hadn’t congealed in his mind yet. Besides, his mind had traversed a different world for the night.

Mirae slipped out of the pub. She was dressed in white and iris purple. She wore a silver head covering. She spotted Mr. O next to a ragged young man in the alley. She stopped for a moment, and then she walked toward them confidently. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Mr. O was her husband. As she passed, she acknowledged Mr. O openly by bowing her head briefly. Then she noticed that the other person was Min. Several paces away from the two men, she turned around slightly, but then changed her mind because she remembered something which made her laugh. She kept going. The only two men she had ever slept with were standing next to each other, one in rags and the other in silk. Mirae laughed aloud in the wide street, not minding the few other pedestrians.

Min didn’t know what he should do. He had wanted to bow to thank Mr. O for having saved his life. But he could tell that his father was neither proud nor happy about what he had done to save him. Actually, he seemed a little uncomfortable to be standing there with him.

Min bowed quickly and then walked away.

“Come and see me another time,” Mr. O said to his back. He had forgotten that Min was also deaf.

Min kept walking. From a distance he spotted a lake surrounded by tall grass. Now he moved faster with his legs stiff as if in need of emptying his bladder. He sighed in front of the lake. All of a sudden he undressed himself and plunged into the lake, shocking a duck that was sitting on the water. He swam, splashing wildly until he perspired. Then he waded the waist-deep water, crawled into the grassy area and lay on his back. His heart raced. His mind wandered off to the moment when Mr. O found him in front of the pub earlier that morning. Now it became clear that Mr. O felt nothing for him. Mr. O had not saved him out of love. Mrs. Wang had importuned Mr. O to spare his life.

But this was the way his master was. Mr. O did things on the spur of the moment, or because someone else urged him to. But Min knew that he himself was the villain of the story. He had burned down his father’s house, jeopardizing many lives. He had gotten away unpunished because his father had taken the blame.

After seeing Nani on the west coast, he had followed Mistress Yee’s carriage. He had wanted to talk to Nani once again, but there was no chance. He had lingered outside Mr. O’s house all evening, hoping that Nani would come out and see him. As the night deepened, he was simply going mad with one idea: he wanted to set the house on fire and take Nani away. Only when the fire had become uncontrollable did he realize that he had done something very foolish.

He walked a while and arrived on top of the mountain. He would have liked to shout at the top of his lungs. But he only groaned pitifully. He looked down at Mr. O’s house. From a distance, the house looked haunted, thanks to Min.

Smoke was coming out of the chimneys of the farmhouses in the valley. It was breakfast time. He descended to the valley. The gate of the burned house looked the same as before, but everything else on Mr. O’s property was either burned down or blackened. When he stepped into the first courtyard, he heard something. He walked toward the noise. To his surprise, Nani was there, going through the debris. She was picking out objects and throwing them back on the pile of things, grumbling and sighing.

Nani shrieked when he came into view. She stood there on guard, ready to claw at him. She was boiling.

“Look at this! Is this how you repay your benefactor? Mr. O has fed you, clothed you, sheltered you ever since you were an infant?” Nani said, her spittle flying.

Min dropped his head, ashamed.

“You are an idiot!” she shrilled.

A little while later, Min and Nani sat on a rock behind the tool shed, where Min had once sat to sharpen the blades of sickles and mend other tools. He pulled his sleeve down to his palm and cleaned Nani’s smudged face.

“You’d better disappear before the villagers stone you. No one believes Mr. O. Why on earth would he have burned down his own house? I know you did it. You should have been hanged,” Nani said, tears trickling out of her eyes. She wiped her tears and her face was smudged black again.

“What are you going to do now?” Nani asked.

Min groaned and used his hands to tell Nani. She was the only one who understood his sign language.

“What are you going to do on the west coast? It’s a rough place,” Nani said.

Min groaned again, waving his hands in the air and jerking this way and that.

“On a ship? Where are you going to go?” Nani asked disapprovingly.

Min didn’t know the name of the place where his friend Blane had gone. He pulled out the compass that Blane had given him before Blane had boarded the Chinese ship.

“What is it?” Nani asked, taking it in her hand. “It moves!” she exclaimed. She played with it for a while.

Min explained that a compass shows which way you should take.

“How does it know which way I should go?” Nani questioned. The small, round device seemed a little too superstitious. She handed it back to him. “I don’t take random trips and go wherever something other than my mind tells me to go.”

Min had felt exactly the same when Blane explained to him how to use it, but now he had become dependent on the little device. Even if he knew which way to go, he had to look at it to make sure he wasn’t making a mistake.

“And then what?” Nani asked.

Min didn’t know what he was going to do once he got where Blane lived, but he couldn’t forget the tears of joy Blane had shed when he was about to board the ship. He had scribbled something on a piece of paper and given it to Min. If he ever wanted to go and visit, that was the paper he needed, perhaps. In any case, Min had carefully tucked it away in his sack. And just yesterday, he had wanted to get away from his country and go far away. He wanted to start his life all over again.

“Let me pack you some food before you go,” Nani said. Soonyi and Quince would be cooking breakfast, but Mistress Yee was always capable of mustering enormous energy, even when she was ill, to attack her maids with her sharp tongue.

“Stay here, will you? I will pack the food soon,” Nani said, and ran off.

Min went over to the place where he had found Nani a little while earlier. What had she been trying to pick out? He stood there, inhaling the smell of destruction.

At the guesthouse, Quince was sitting in the kitchen, chewing on a large carrot. When she saw Nani, she got up and asked, “Where have you been?”

“Did you make breakfast for Mistress Yee?” Nani asked, panting.

“Dr. Choi is with her. Apparently her tongue isn’t moving,” Quince said, her cheek bulging with food.

“What do you mean?” Nani asked.

Soonyi popped in then and said, “Oh, Big Sister, something terrible has happened! Mistress Yee cannot speak! I just went and fetched Dr. Choi.”

“Calm down. She is probably still overcome with shock from yesterday,” Nani said.

Soonyi reported excitedly, “A little while ago, I took a breakfast tray to Mistress Yee. All I heard from inside was hissing. So I opened the door. Her room was a mess. Random articles were strewn all over the room. I asked Mistress Yee if she would like breakfast. She couldn’t speak! She threw her fan at me. I was so frightened. I asked if she would like me to fetch a doctor. She threw her writing brush box at me. So I ran to fetch Dr. Choi.”

Quince stopped chewing her carrot and cried theatrically, spitting bits of carrot, “Oh my gods!”

“She is probably still very angry with the master,” Nani said dismissively.

“You heard what she just said. She must have had a stroke in the middle of the night, and her maid wasn’t available for help,” Quince said excitedly, showing the food in her mouth.

“Has Mr. O returned?” Nani asked Soonyi, ignoring Quince.

“No,” Soonyi replied.

“The gods have set their minds against this household! Mr. O should have another Kut to really get rid of Mistress Kim’s spirit,” Quince said, clucking her tongue.

“Don’t you breathe a word about this household to anyone outside! Now you can go, Quince,” Nani said firmly.

“You can’t ‘go’ and ‘don’t go’ me as you please. I am an employee at this house,” Quince said, looking sour. She got up and drank a large bowl of water, swishing it in her mouth to clean between her teeth.

“I said you go now or else you won’t be coming back here after today,” Nani said, clenching her teeth.

Quince looked at Soonyi, hoping for support, but she was looking at her feet. “Should I come back this afternoon, Missy?” Quince asked impertinently.

“I’ll send Soonyi over to get you should the need arise,” Nani said coldly.

“All right, then,” Quince said and left.

Nani waited until Quince was gone. Then she said, “Let’s go and clean up Mistress Yee’s room and see what Dr. Choi might want us to do. I should have come back last night,” Nani said, regretfully, leading the way to Mistress Yee’s room.

Indeed, the room was in chaos. In the midst of all the articles that Mistress Yee had thrown, she was lying on her silk mat with her eyes closed, dozens of acupuncture needles stuck in her forehead.

“I put her out for a while so I could treat her,” Dr. Choi said. “Where is Mr. O?”

“He is not home at the moment,” Nani replied. “May we tidy up the room?”

Dr. Choi considered it for a moment and said, “I guess that would be all right. But when your mistress wakes up, it is absolutely crucial that she stay calm.” He took Mistress Yee’s wrist and felt her pulse with his eyes closed. He sighed when he put her hand back on her silk mat.

Nani and Soonyi were on their tiptoes, picking up and putting things away. When they were about to leave, Mr. O appeared in the yard, looking tired.

“Master, Dr. Choi is in Mistress Yee’s room,” Nani informed him.

“Bring me something to drink,” he said as he took off his shoes and ascended to the anteroom.

In the kitchen, Nani prepared a tray of ginseng tea for three. And then she took away one cup, thinking that Mistress Yee wouldn’t be drinking any. Suddenly, she realized that she had forgotten all about Min at the old house.

“Soonyi, I need to slip out for a few moments,” she said desperately.

“No, Big Sister. You can’t leave me alone here,” Soonyi said, furrowing her forehead.

“All right. I guess I need to prepare lunch. You take the tea to Mr. O and then stay in the hallway to see if Dr. Choi wants anything more,” Nani said.

After Soonyi had left, Nani began to grind the soaked soybeans in the millstone, adding a spoonful of water every now and then. The coarse yellow meal oozed out between the two stone plates. Nani was hoping that Min was long gone. Someday, maybe, she would see him again. She was not worried.

She put the ground soybeans in a linen pouch and squeezed the juice out. It would be the base of a noodle soup for lunch. She poured the juice into a pot and set it on the stove. While the soybean juice simmered, Nani began to practice writing, tracing characters with her wet finger on the side of the millstone.

44

It took much longer to build Mr. O’s house than he had anticipated. Twenty-five men worked on the site, even on rainy days, and five women cooked, cleaned, and finally pasted wallpaper.

On the final day when the women workers were sweeping the courtyards, Mr. O came and wept in his new quarters. He had done nothing quite so stressful in his whole life. “Well, I did it,” he said out loud. He felt that his deceased father had not thought him capable of the task. But now he had proved him wrong.

He came out and looked about the place once again. Dubak appeared and congratulated him. Then Dubak accompanied Mr. O everywhere, telling him how everything was looking grand. Gradually, the villagers gathered and then the shamans arrived to perform a housewarming Kut. White rice cakes were served for good luck.

Nani, Soonyi, and Quince arranged the offering table in front of the main gate. The shamans put on their colorful robes and began slowly dancing. Some of the villagers were dancing too. All the spirits from the mountain behind them rushed down to find out what the brouhaha was about. Mrs. Wang was also coming down the mountain with Mansong. “Mansong, wait for me!” Mrs. Wang cried as she followed the little girl.

Turning around covering her ears, Mansong mumbled, “Loud.”

“Listen carefully,” Mrs. Wang said.

“Gongs and drums.” Mansong frowned

“Listen to the voice.”

Mansong stopped and listened. “Someone’s shouting,” she said.

“Yes, that too,” Mrs. Wang said. “She is calling the spirits to come forth to hear what the people have to say.”

“What do they say?”

“Who knows? People always have so much to say. Your father wants blessings on his new house,” Mrs. Wang explained.

A crowd stood in front of the gate of Mr. O’s magnificent new house. Mrs. Wang looked about. Mansong wanted to be lifted up over the crowd to have a look at the shamans.

Nani spotted Mrs. Wang and rushed to her.

“Ah, Nani, can you lift her up? She wants to see all the fuss,” Mrs. Wang said.

“Come, my little lady,” Nani said, hoisting Mansong.

“Where is Mr. O?” Mrs. Wang asked.

“Inside the house.”

“You stay here with Mansong. I need to go see him.”

Away from the crowd, Mrs. Wang slipped into the house. A few male workers were cleaning the rooftop, and several others were pretending to be busy doing a last-minute check-up before the move-in the next day.

A man greeted Mrs. Wang from the rooftop. He had recently become a father.

“Where is the master of the house?” Mrs. Wang asked.

“At the well behind the kitchen,” he shouted.

Mrs. Wang walked to the well where Mr. O was pouring in a bowl of clear rice liquor to wish for a ceaseless stream of water to the well from the mountain. When he saw Mrs. Wang, he poured a bowl of the same wine from a jug and encouraged her to drink.

Mrs. Wang could not say no. She drank it at once and said, “I was just thinking on the way down here, looking at your beautiful house, that we are the only creatures who need a roof.”

Mr. O smiled and nodded.

“Mr. O, how is Mistress Yee?”

“Ah, she is about the same. She improves slowly. She is able to sit up now and eat on her own.”

“That’s better,” Mrs. Wang said.

“Thank you for coming to our house. Please have some food,” Mr. O encouraged her. He was ready to leave the well. He was remembering the tone of the letter she had written to him about Min. It was the voice of a stern mother.

“I need to have a talk with you, Mr. O. It won’t take long,” Mrs. Wang said.

“Sure,” he said, looking about. He led Mrs. Wang to the garden.

“Yes, Mrs. Wang,” he said, politely offering her his attention.

“I brought your daughter today. I am so attached to her, and I would really like to keep her with me longer, but Mistress Kim, your deceased wife, would disagree with me. Mansong belongs here after all,” Mrs. Wang said.

Mr. O thought for a moment. He was surprised. Of course, he knew that he had a daughter. But he had thought she was with another caregiver, Dubak’s wife or sister, whatever her name was. His wife had said that she was in good care.

“I don’t believe that is her name?” Mr. O suddenly pointed out.

“Ach, Mr. O, that is the nickname I gave her myself instead of Beautiful Flower. I hope you forgive me. I just thought she needed a name that’s less susceptible to the elements, if you understand what I mean. Again, my apologies for having taken the liberty to name your daughter Ten Thousand Pine Trees. But so poetic is Beautiful Flower.”

“Mrs. Wang, I thank you for all your efforts. I have been so preoccupied with building the house and with Mistress Yee that I have neglected my duty as a father,” he apologized. “I should have had Mistress Yee take care of the matter,” he said, and then he realized that she was in no condition to take care of any matter. So he blushed.

“There is nothing to worry about. I am here to ask you for a big favor, seeing as I have done you a favor by taking care of Mansong.”

That simplified everything for Mr. O. He liked it when people expressed what they wanted because often he didn’t even know what he wanted.

“Yes?” he said, eyeing Mrs. Wang blankly.

“I am getting old. I would like to have a maid, but I cannot afford one. But if I could borrow one of your maids once in a while to take care of some things at my house, I would be most grateful,” Mrs. Wang said.

“Ah, Mrs. Wang,” he said, relieved to hear her minor request, “let me arrange it for you. Let me go now and tell the first one I see to go with you. You may even keep one of my maids. Why borrow?” he said. “In fact, we are hiring more in a few days,” he said, blushing again. Mrs. Wang made him nervous.

“No need for you to speak to anyone. I have picked one out already. Nani, she is called. I will ask her to come to my house after the move.”

“Fine.”

“But I would like you to come with me to welcome Mansong. She has been most eager to see you.” Mrs. Wang walked out to the gate with Mr. O following her. The shamans were shouting shrilly to pacify the old spirits who had suffered in the fire. People were drinking and eating and gossiping about Mistress Yee’s misfortune. And when they saw Mr. O, the crowd grew silent out of respect.

“Here she is,” Mrs. Wang said. “My little Mansong, here is your father.”

Mansong bowed deeply, and then said, “I have watched my house being built every day from the mountain. I am glad that it is finally finished. Please show me my room.”

“Well, well. I am g-glad you are here,” Mr. O stuttered. And he looked about. Everyone was staring at him and Mansong, even the shamans, stopping their routine temporarily. “Why don’t you show Mansong her room?” he asked Nani. She hesitated because she didn’t know which room was reserved for Mansong.

“No. I want you, Father,” said Mansong.

The villagers clapped their hands and commented that she was the brightest girl in the whole village. One said that she was going to be the ruler of the province.

Mr. O disappeared into the house with Mansong. And the shamans resumed their dance. Mrs. Wang took Nani aside and said, “After the move, when things settle down, pack your things and come to me. Your master gave me permission to take you as my maid.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you. I have practiced writing every day, Mrs. Wang,” said Nani, trying to hold her flooding emotion inside.

Mrs. Wang left the crowd to go and see a woman who was due to have a baby soon. In spite of her aching legs, Mrs. Wang felt good that she had fulfilled Mistress Kim’s wish.

“When I become old and frail, remember me,” Mrs. Wang said, looking back at the mountain, which loomed up beyond the crowd in front of Mr. O’s gate. The mountain was beautifully dressed in its gorgeous fall colors once again.

Nani stood by the gate and watched Mrs. Wang walk away. Soon—very soon—she would go around with Mrs. Wang and learn everything there was to learn to be a midwife. She picked up a stone and wrote on the ground, “I will be a midwife.” She got up and felt as though she would fly if she didn’t make sure that her feet were planted firmly on the ground.