Waxing Moon (27 page)

45

The move took a whole month. Whenever there was a new delivery, the villagers gathered near Mr. O’s gate to have a look at the impressive pieces of furniture. They were built by a famous carpenter named Gong by the Snake River. Gong would let his logs float in the river for three months and then let them dry for another three months so that they were seasoned before they were cut.

The first night, Mr. O slept in his quarters to let his ancestors know that he owned it so that they could feel free to come and go. The maids and servants were in and out to clean and to plant trees.

Some days later, Mistress Yee was carried to the new house in a closed carriage so that no one would see her. Nani followed the carriage with the servants. When the carriage arrived at the new house, the servants carried Mistress Yee in on a Chinese chair. Mistress Yee looked about and realized that the new house was not exactly the same as the previous one. She shrieked, dissatisfied. The chair was carried to the rear of the house. Mistress Yee trembled and turned purple when she saw where she was going to reside. The servants carried her to her room. Nani and Soonyi helped her sit on the mat in the room. Mistress Yee howled and hissed.

“Big Sister, Mistress Yee is thirsty,” Soonyi pointed out to Nani. Soonyi turned to Mistress Yee to confirm this. “Am I right, Mistress Yee? You made the same sound yesterday when you wanted tea.”

Mistress Yee raised her left hand to strike Soonyi. But Nani pulled Soonyi away in time. Mr. O had warned the maids to remove themselves when Mistress Yee got into one of her foul moods and became violent. According to Dr. Choi, it was advisable not to speak to Mistress Yee at such a time.

Nani pulled Soonyi out the door.

“Don’t make comments about Mistress Yee in front of her. There is nothing wrong with her hearing. She just can’t say things properly right now. Dr. Choi says she will be able to speak again sometime soon, but it will take time,” Nani said as she led the way to the new kitchen.

The kitchen was much more spacious, due to the high ceiling. The light came in directly through openings designed for ventilation.

“Look, Soonyi, up there!” Nani pointed her finger to one of the openings. Remarkably, there was a bird nest with baby birds.

“Oh, Big Sister, look at them!” Soonyi cooed.

“Ah, sweet!” Nani exclaimed, looking up. “Birds are a good sign,” she said. Nani had broken the news the night before that she would move to Mrs. Wang’s sometime soon. Soonyi had bawled like a cranky toddler. And she had said that she was going to go with Nani.

“Birds are a good sign?” Soonyi asked, looking up.

“My mother said so,” Nani said.

“Maybe you will stay,” Soonyi said.

There was a silence, and then Nani said, “Soonyi, I am going to Mrs. Wang’s. I have moved some of my things already. But you can always come and see me. And I am sure that you and I will run into each other often.”

They organized the kitchen in silence, avoiding eye contact. Only when there was a ruckus outside did they look at each other. Then they ran outside together.

Bok ran to Nani and said, “Here comes the new mistress!”

Nani looked at Soonyi meaningfully and Soonyi grimaced. They had dreaded this moment.

Mirae was coming in her carriage. She was six months pregnant and dressed exquisitely in yellow and light green. She smiled divinely, looking down at the villagers as if she were the queen of China. They had heard about Mirae’s extreme good fortune, but seeing her arrive as the mistress of the house dumbfounded them. Everyone was waiting for the others to comment on the event.

“She sure is pretty,” one voice finally said.

“Oh, she always has been,” said another.

“As far as her beauty is concerned, the queen of China would envy her,” a man said.

“Not just her beauty. Look at the life ahead of her!” his wife said and snorted.

“Great fortune has struck her,” a voice said.

“
‘Struck’ is not quite the word,” a woman said. But she did not offer another word.

Mirae disappeared into the gate. She went to the mistress’s quarters.

“How nice to see you again, Nani.” Mirae smiled pleasantly. “Here is my maid, Kumi. I would like you to teach her. I’ve always thought that you were born an ideal maid.”

Nani bowed slightly and found herself unable to answer. She swallowed her saliva and hoped to be dismissed.

“I have forgotten your voice. You need to speak so that I know you are the maid I remember,” Mirae said sarcastically.

“Yes, Mistress,” Nani said.

“There you go,” Mirae said, composed like an arrogant peacock. “I would like some refreshments and tea. And then I would like you to take my maid on a tour of the house.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Nani led the way to the kitchen and showed the new maid how to make tea. She put the tea set on a tray and peeled a pear. Slicing it on a cutting board, Nani remembered how Mirae used to salivate over juicy winter pears. She had often picked out leftover winter pears, which bruised and browned so easily, from Mistress Yee’s snack tray and devoured them in the corner of the old kitchen.

Nani asked Soonyi to take the tray to Mirae, and she took the new maid to show her around.

Mr. O was with Mirae when Soonyi brought in the tea tray with pear slices.

“Bring me another tea tray with refreshments,” Mirae ordered her.

Soonyi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she said she would, immediately, and she left promptly.

“Why would you like another one?” Mr. O asked.

“I would like to take it to Mistress Yee,” Mirae said. “She was my mistress. I am going to take care of her as long as I live.”

Mr. O was moved. He took Mirae’s hand and said, “You are pure gold.”

“Oh, please,” Mirae said, and she blushed becomingly. “I feel guilty absorbing your undivided attention,” she confessed.

“Whom I give my attention to is my decision,” Mr. O said, smiling.

“But would you hear my wish?” Mirae asked.

“Of course. Whatever you say.”

“Will you spend time with Big Mistress?”

“I will if you wish. But she can’t stand me,” Mr. O grumbled.

Soonyi arrived with another tea tray.

“Shall we?” Mirae asked.

“All right. I guess I can’t dissuade you from wanting to take care of her,” Mr. O said, getting up. Mirae asked Soonyi to follow them with the tray. They walked by the recently planted persimmon trees.

“Ah, this is the perfect location for Big Mistress. Away from the noise of everyday life, and set back so that she is well protected and we can keep an eye on her health,” Mirae said, standing in front of the small quarters behind the back corner of the house.

“Well, it was your wisdom that she is here,” Mr. O said.

“Soonyi, announce Master’s arrival and give me the tray. And then you may go,” Mirae said.

“Master has arrived, Mistress,” Soonyi announced. And she opened the door without hearing the answer from inside.

Soonyi withdrew, and Mr. O stepped in. Mirae followed him in with the tray.

Mistress Yee was drooling from the right side of her mouth. And when she saw Mirae, she groaned harshly. She waved her hand in the air to say something to Mr. O, stretching her left leg out tensely.

“Mistress Yee, calm down,” Mr. O said, sitting down a few feet away from her.

Mirae kowtowed. “Mistress, your sister greets you,” Mirae said as she lowered herself. She got up and sat down next to Mr. O and buried her face in his bosom. She sobbed and said, “Please tell me this is a dream. How can such misfortune have befallen my sister?”

Mistress Yee groaned wildly.

Mirae turned her face to Mistress Yee. “My sister, I am going to take good care of you. I am indebted to you deeply. I am going to pay you back for your many kindnesses. Oh, my heart breaks. Who would now know you were once the most beautiful bride in the whole province!” She turned back to Mr. O and said, “I must thank you, my husband, for bringing me here. Not only will I be serving you, but I will also be serving my sister. She used to say that I was her soul mate, because she and I think alike. She doesn’t need to speak. I understand exactly what she thinks and wants.”

“Thank you for your wisdom and grace. You are making everything so easy for me,” Mr. O complimented her.

At that moment, from outside the door, Soonyi said, “Master, Soonyi is here. May I speak?”

“What is it?” Mr. O asked.

“I have a message from Lady Mansong. She would like the new mistress to come and introduce herself.”

Mr. O guffawed, and Mirae turned pale.

“She is her mother’s child,” Mr. O commented, amused. “Tell her we will be there shortly.”

Mirae sat there silently.

“Why don’t we go and see the child?” Mr. O said, getting up. Mirae followed him out, calculating how to handle the situation.

In the courtyard, Mirae said feebly, “I am tired. I should lie down for a while. Not for me, but for your baby.”

“Of course. You have had a long day,” Mr. O said. He turned to Soonyi to tell her to escort Mirae to her quarters, but he hadn’t thought about how Mirae should be addressed by everyone in the house.

“Take me, Soonyi,” muttered Mirae, annoyed.

“Yes—” Soonyi said, breaking off her thought and silently wondering what to call Mirae.

Mirae walked slowly with Soonyi back to her new quarters. Mirae said to Soonyi, “Call me Mistress Mirae from now on because I am the mistress of this house. And do not walk next to me. Walk a few steps behind me at all times.” Mirae’s last name was Ma, one of the seven names that belonged to her class. She didn’t want to use a working-class surname here in her new home.

“Yes, uh, Mistress Mirae.”

On the other side of the house, Mr. O stood in front of Mansong’s room and asked, “Who comes here?”

“The master of the house,” she replied from inside.

“How did you know?” he said, opening the door and smiling.

“Because no one should come to me uninvited, unless it’s my father,” Mansong said.

Mr. O sat and took his daughter onto his lap. For some reason, he had fallen in love with this clever child.

“I was just with the new mistress, introducing her to Mistress Yee. You mustn’t summon a grown up. That is not polite,” Mr. O explained.

“But you told me to summon the maids as I pleased,” Mansong said.

“Yes, you ought to, but not the mistress of the house,” Mr. O said.

“But Quince told me that she had once been a maid at my house,” Mansong said innocently.

Mr. O thought for a moment. He wasn’t prepared to have this conversation with his daughter. “She is no longer a maid,” Mr. O said.

“I see,” Mansong said, confused.

“She is carrying your sibling,” Mr. O said.

Mansong nodded.

“Will you give me a reading lesson today?” she asked. Her favorite pastime was studying with her father. And she had already advanced to the level he had attained at the age of ten.

“Ah, thank you for reminding me. Your father forgot because the new mistress arrived today, and he was busy with her,” Mr. O said apologetically. Mansong took the book out from her drawer, opened it on the table, and they began their lesson.

Mirae sat in her room, breathing rapidly and shallowly. She was irritated because her husband hadn’t returned yet. An hour later, her rage had turned to sorrow. She had been the center of attention and the envy of everyone when she became the third wife of Mr. O. But why had no one jumped to be her friend? Why didn’t everyone love her when she was willing to give so much? All her relationships had resulted in betrayal.

Her baby kicked. This always scared her. She had never imagined life with a baby who resembled her. But now it was on its way. Sometimes she wanted to run back to the past, when she had been a little girl. She was pregnant by the richest man in the village, but she didn’t feel happy.

At least she wasn’t a maid anymore. She flashed on the worst night of her life, which she had spent in the storage room tied up, bruised, and with her mouth stuffed with a large pebble after eighty lashes of the whip. Recalling that scene always made boiling hot tears flow down her cheeks. She clenched her teeth hard and ground them in frustration.

When Soonyi announced that dinner was ready, Mirae realized that she had been sitting in the dark. She asked Soonyi to come in and light the candles.

“Where is the master?” Mirae asked.

“He will have dinner with Lady Mansong,” Soonyi reported.

Mirae swallowed her saliva. Her baby kicked again. She realized that her baby must be born, whether she liked it or not. She told Soonyi to bring the dinner in. “I must eat,” Mirae whispered between gritted teeth. She had to stay healthy and be strong to match up to the challenges of her life.

Soonyi came in with a large tray of food which she transferred to the low table.

“Where is my maid, Kumi?” Mirae asked.

“Oh, earlier she was helping Nani carry the dinner tray to Lady Mansong’s quarters, and now I think she is feeding Mistress Yee.”

“Listen carefully, Soonyi!” Mirae screeched. “From now on, serve my dinner first, before you serve the sick woman. And I want my dinner to be served by Nani. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Soonyi said and left the room.

After Mr. O retired, Nani went into Mansong’s room and asked, “Did my lady have a good day?”

“I did. I like this house. Are you ready to learn?” Mansong asked.

“Of course,” Nani said, pulling out her book.

“Ah, I thought you might forget about the lesson because you were busy with the new mistress’s arrival. But you are a good pupil,” Mansong said and laughed pleasantly.

Nani recited a poem by Gosan that Mansong had taught her during the preceding lesson:

Mountains dressed in white

Chestnuts on amber

Summer days gone

Amber turns to ashes

Our hearts shiver in oblivion.

46

The road up the mountain was frosty in the early morning. Spring was just around the corner—you could almost smell it—but it was still chilly before the sun came out. Nani climbed swiftly, carrying the sack of her things on her head. She saw steam come out of her mouth and heard the swish of her starched skirt as she moved. At the old pine tree, she slowed down, as everyone else who climbed the mountain did. Then she bowed to the tree, wishing for health and the wisdom to be a good midwife like Mrs. Wang. She resumed her climb. She looked down on the valley and began to sing feebly, but as she climbed her voice got louder and louder. At the end of her song, she was shouting at the top of her lungs. She ran the rest of the way. At Mrs. Wang’s gate, she was out of breath.

She stood there for a moment, expecting Mrs. Wang’s dog, Tiger, to bark, but he didn’t. Through the crack in the old gate, she saw Mrs. Wang sitting by the well, washing something in a bowl. The dog was wagging his tail.

“Mrs. Wang, Nani is here!” she shouted. When she caught her breath, she shouted again in her high-pitched voice, “Here I come, Mrs. Wang!” and threw her arm over the gate to unlatch it. She entered and dropped her sack on the wooden bench.

Mrs. Wang stopped cleaning the rice, turned around, and said, “What an awful mistake I made to accept you as my apprentice!”

Nani smiled, squatting next to Mrs. Wang.

“Mrs. Wang, I will try not to be so loud.”

“That’s the first thing you have to learn: to control what you feel. When something goes wrong, stay calm. When you deliver a deformed baby, don’t gasp. When you deliver a healthy baby, don’t compliment. Don’t intrude on the emotional life of innocent and sometimes ignorant people,” Mrs. Wang said.

“I understand, Mrs. Wang,” Nani said humbly.

“It will take several seasons for you to understand that, but you are young and I am not dead yet,” Mrs. Wang said, grinning. “Finish washing the rice. I am making red-bean rice and kelp soup to celebrate your commencement as my apprentice.”

Nani’s chest knotted. The tone of Mrs. Wang’s voice reminded her of the voice of her late mother. On her birthdays, her mother had never failed to make red-bean rice and kelp soup, saying, “This is the day you came to this world to do something greater than your mother could ever do.”

Nani swirled the rice in the water with her fingers and bit her lip, trying not to show her emotions. Suddenly, she got up and went to the bench. She pulled out a cloth from the sack. She ran to the kitchen and said excitedly, “Mrs. Wang, I have something for you.”

“Speak in an even tone,” Mrs. Wang said, and she frowned, not because of Nani, but because smoke had escaped from the stove and wafted toward her face.

“Mrs. Wang, let me handle that, please,” Nani said confidently. She took the fan from Mrs. Wang’s hand and skillfully tamed the fire. “I have done this most of my life, Mrs. Wang,” she added proudly.

“I am glad you are good for something,” Mrs. Wang said, getting up to go out to wash her hands.

After Nani fixed the fire, she went out and said, “Mrs. Wang, I have something for you.”

Mrs. Wang was letting the chickens out of the cage. She turned around to see what Nani had brought. Nani unfolded a cloth she had embroidered for Mrs. Wang. It was a mountain in fall colors on a piece of coarse hemp cloth.

“I looked at the mountain this past fall, hoping I would come up here soon. And I began to embroider this, thinking that when I was done with this, I would come here to be with you,” Nani said.

“Ah, Nani. Such a beautiful thing you’ve made!” Mrs. Wang said excitedly.

Nani was pleased to see how happy her teacher was.

“I will frame this on a wooden board and keep it on my wall as long as I live,” Mrs. Wang declared.

They cooked together. The red beans bled and colored the rice purple. Kelp soup bubbled in the pot. Nani set the low table.

“How is my little Mansong?” Mrs. Wang asked.

“Ah, Mrs. Wang, she is the cleverest child I’ve ever seen. She amuses Mr. O so much that he says that he is getting younger every day.”

“She belongs there after all,” Mrs. Wang said.

After breakfast, Mrs. Wang pulled a book out of a drawer and showed it to Nani.

“What is this, Mrs. Wang?”

“It’s my journal. I write in it every time I see a patient and every time I deliver a baby. It has taught me a lot. And I would like you to take over from now on. I want you to record all our visits with pregnant women.”

Nani’s confusion was written plainly all over her face.

Mrs. Wang explained, “First, you write the date, and then the name of the woman. Ah, never forget to record the name of the man who is involved. I mean, the father of the baby. And then you record what happens, what you see, and how you feel.”

Nani was silent; she was still very confused. Mrs. Wang suggested, “Why don’t you read one of my journal entries? In fact, you can read the one I wrote after Mansong was born.”

“Oh yes,” Nani said, still looking at the cover of the book.

“Let me find the page for you. Hand it to me,” Mrs. Wang said. She took the book and flipped the pages. “I think it is in the previous book. Let me see.” Mrs. Wang went to her drawer and pulled out another one.

“So many!” Nani exclaimed as she glimpsed the drawer full of journals.

“I started writing in my journals when I became a midwife. I was younger then than you are now. My grandmother told me to do so. And it is a very important part of the job. It sometimes saves lives,” Mrs. Wang said, thinking of Min. But thinking of him, she remembered something. “By the way, Min stopped by some time ago. Now, where is that?” Mrs. Wang got up and opened the door to a small storage room, where she kept her money jar. She dipped her hand in and said, “Here it is!” She pulled out a knotted handkerchief.

Nani took it silently. Something was inside. She opened it and found the jade necklace she had lost in the fire. Min must have found it in the pile of debris while he waited for her to come and see him one last time. She remembered sitting in the kitchen, hoping he would leave and not wait. Before going to bed, she had gone back over to the house but had found him nowhere.

The handkerchief was smudged black from the charred necklace. She put it in her sleeve and thought of Min for a long moment. He might show up someday if she kept the necklace. Wherever he was now, she hoped that he would do something worthy with his life.

Mrs. Wang was still flipping through the pages, distracted by some of her own writings. She stopped and put her finger between two pages and handed the book to Nani.

“I believe Min was my son in a past life. He keeps returning to my mind,” Mrs. Wang said.

Nani gasped. “Oh! What a coincidence! I feel exactly the same.”

Mrs. Wang rolled her eyes comically and said, “You can read that page and see if it makes any sense.” Then she lay down to take a nap.

Nani read what Mrs. Wang had to say about Mansong’s birth:

Life is absurd. I can only sigh, feeling utterly ashamed of myself. Mistress Kim died. Even before I arrived! But she left a healthy baby girl behind. Somehow I feel responsible for this baby. I put her under the care of Jaya, who has just given birth to a boy. She has too much milk, she complains. The living have as many complaints as the dead.

Mistress Kim’s house was ominously hushed. No one was present to receive the news of the death or the birth. Only two young maids, one of them practically a child herself. Earlier, a servant from that house had delivered a letter consisting of one sentence: “The mistress is in excruciating pain.” I laughed. All the aristocrats are in “excruciating pain,” and the peasants are about to die when the contractions begin. I told the mute servant I would come, by and by. He groaned and turned around to walk back down the mountain.

A little later, Dubak came up and said his wife would die if I didn’t come immediately. I said I would come soon. He said he would carry me on his back. I snorted and scolded him, but he insisted that he wouldn’t take one step from my house unless I came with him. So I walked down with him. His mother had prepared dinner for me. The newborn was enormous, so it took longer than anticipated. The happy grandmother so badly wanted me to stay to celebrate. So I had a few drinks.

Mistress Kim’s house was in the dark; even the torch light at the entrance was out. As soon as I opened her door, I smelled death. I checked the woman’s pulse. Too late. From now on, I shall spring up and go promptly when summoned, no matter who comes to fetch me, even if it means I will idle away half a day. Had I an assistant, it would be more efficient. Perhaps someday.

Tears welled up in Nani’s eyes. She was feeling overwhelmed. She was entering a new world she knew nothing about. She was moved by what went on behind the scenes. Nani remembered very well how scared she had been when Mistress Kim had stuffed her own mouth with a cloth. Mistress Kim lay on her side and gripped whatever she could get hold of. She and Soonyi sat, feeling hopelessly worried, watching their mistress writhe in agony, groaning hideously. Mistress Kim grabbed her hand and Soonyi’s in the end and wouldn’t let go of them. When the baby came out with a great flop into a pool of blood on the mat, Soonyi and she looked at each other, but neither could go check to see what it was that had emerged into the world. Soonyi sobbed annoyingly. And then, Nani heard that Mrs. Wang had arrived. She went out with a lantern, trying to control her trembling hands. She wanted to say something to Mrs. Wang, but her tongue wouldn’t move. She had been clenching her teeth so hard that her jaw ached. She couldn’t even cry.

Mrs. Wang was sleeping. Nani decided to peruse some more of the journal. It was amazing reading. She pored over it until dusk. Mrs. Wang got up and said, “Light the candle. You are going to ruin your eyesight if you read in the dark.”

“Should I start making dinner?” Nani asked. At Mr. O’s house, she had to start thinking about dinner as soon as lunch was over.

“I always eat what’s left from breakfast,” Mrs. Wang said.

“Then I will warm up the kelp soup,” Nani said, getting up. She went to the kitchen and took the jade necklace from her sleeve to wash it. It turned deep green in the water. She put it on and felt the coolness on her chest.

As she started a fire in the stove, there was a big thud from outside. Nani sprang up and went out of the kitchen. The old gate had finally given its last breath and lay collapsed on the ground.

“Big Sister!” Soonyi shouted. Bok picked up the gate and tried in vain to put it back.

“What brings you here?” Nani asked.

“Mirae—the little mistress—is in extreme pain. Her baby is on the way,” Soonyi said with a broad smile, happy to see Nani.

Mrs. Wang came out to see what was going on. She thundered, “Who broke my gate?”

“It fell all by itself,” Soonyi said. Bok was trying to fix it.

“There is a tool box behind the chicken cage. You can fix it. And I need to eat before I come,” Mrs. Wang said. She went to the kitchen where leftover kelp soup was boiling on the stove.

Nani followed her in and said, “Mrs. Wang, I think we should go now.”

“How am I going to walk all the way down to Mr. O’s on an empty stomach?”

“But in your journal you regretted that you hadn’t left promptly to see Mistress Kim,” Nani reminded her cautiously.

Mrs. Wang clucked her tongue and said, “What an awful mistake I made to take you as my apprentice!”

Mrs. Wang went into her room and dressed herself warmly. She told Bok to finish fixing her gate, and she headed down to the valley with Nani. When they passed the old pine tree, Mrs. Wang said, “Bury me just beyond that tree when I am dead.”

“Why there, Mrs. Wang?”

“So I can keep an eye on you. As you pass by, I will tell you if you are doing the right thing.”

The moon rose. The two women walked by the barren rice field, talking about how the winter was almost over. Mrs. Wang said that she was going to plant cabbages and cucumbers in her backyard. Nani thought of reading all of Mrs. Wang’s journals.

At the gate of Mr. O’s house, Kumi came out with a lantern, looking like a frightened squirrel. Trembling, she guided the midwives to her mistress. Nani could already hear Mirae’s shrieking voice. She noticed that Mrs. Wang kept a steady pace, even though Mirae’s piercing cry was hard to ignore.

Mr. O was not available at the moment. He was reading a poem titled “Wheel of Fortune” with Mansong, which had been written by the country’s only known female poet from the previous century. He was explaining the title to his daughter. He stopped abruptly. Life repeats itself.

“Father, what are you thinking about?” Mansong asked, looking up at him.

Mr. O came to his senses and asked, “What did you say?” His daughter’s sparkling eyes stared at him intently, and he saw his reflection in her eyes. A long time before, when he was a little boy, he had stepped up to look inside a well. He saw a figure on the surface of the water. Behind it was a patch of cloud. The figure moved. He gasped, which immediately echoed in the well, sounding as if the well had gasped. A frantic maid pulled him back. He was dizzy. He told her that there was someone in the well. The maid looked in. She said, laughing, that it was his own reflection.

He had forgotten about this.

“My little one, I see myself in your eyes,” Mr. O said to his daughter.

“I see myself in your eyes, too, Father.”

He paused for a moment. Suddenly, the meaning of the conversation he had with the head monk some time before dawned on him.
He is you. He is I.
Mr. O pressed the middle of his eyebrows with his two fingers as if to expel a headache. But in truth he was trying to remember what else the head monk had tried to communicate with him.

Mansong yawned. She needed to be put to bed.

“Where is Soonyi?” Mr. O wondered.

“She went to fetch Mrs. Wang,” she replied dreamily, leaning on his arm. She fell asleep within a moment. He put her down on the mat and covered her with a blanket. Observing her small, peaceful face, he lingered before he blew out the candle. She resembled her mother, definitely, but from a certain angle, she also looked a little like his father too.

Mr. O slipped out of his daughter’s room. The moon filled the yard. Each time he walked about in his house, he was pleased that it was almost exactly the way the original was. In the dark, he knew it could fool even the spirit of his father.