Anchee Min: Pearl of China

Papa repeated loudly after Absalom.

“Make a new beginning!” Absalom shouted. “Come to the light on the Cross!”

Papa tried to stand still but wasn’t able to. “When should I take a breath?” he asked.

Absalom ignored him. “‘Take me and throw me into the sea,’ says Jesus,” he sang.

“Tell me when,” Papa spoke again.

“Wait.” Absalom held him.

“I am afraid of drowning,” Papa said. “I really am.”

“Trust in God.”

Gently, Absalom pushed Papa back until his head went under the water.

The crowd held its breath.

“Lord Jesus bears all righteousness!” Absalom hailed.

The crowd cheered.

Papa looked frozen. He emerged from the water and immediately sank back again.

“Papa, what are you doing?” I shouted.

“He is accepting Christ’s death,” Pearl said quietly.

“For what?”

“For his sins and the sins of humanity.”

Papa reemerged from the river, spilling water like a fountain. He didn’t choke. I was relieved. I saw NaiNai among the crowd wiping her tears. The night before she had told us that she liked the idea that her son was getting a cleaning.

“God calls out, ‘This is my beloved son!’” Absalom shouted. “‘This is the anticipation of his death on the Cross and his Resurrection!’”

Led by Absalom, Papa walked out of the river.

“I feel God and his Will!” Papa said to the crowd. “Jesus made me shake off a failed life. I am to begin a new one!”

I was sure Papa did it for Absalom to thank him.

As if touched by Papa’s transformation, Absalom stuck out both of his arms toward the sky, calling out, “Praise the Lord!”

Speaking together as if singing a duet, Papa and Absalom stood side by side in the church on Sundays. Folks were curious when they heard about Papa’s new luck on getting blessed by the foreign god. They came to see if they could acquire the same protection.

Papa delivered an outstanding performance for Absalom.

“We live in an underworld filled with demons,” Papa began with the same enthusiasm he showed when reciting his Chinese poems. “Doomed by fate, we are captured by evil, spellbound by mean spirits. We, the incense burners, the coolies, the losers, gamblers, drunkards, thieves, and deaf-n-blinds. Be afraid no more, because Jesus is here to help. All you have to do is to make a new start by signing up with Absalom.”

Papa asked the town’s seventeen-year-old widow, Lilac, who was an egg seller, “Am I right to guess that Buddha hasn’t answered your prayers?”

“No, he certainly has not,” Lilac replied.

“Are you losing faith in him?”

“I am afraid to say yes, but yes.”

“You are disappointed.”

“I don’t mean to offend Buddha. But yes.”

“Lilac, you have been visiting the temple since birth. The incense you have burned could make a hill. Did your life change for the good? You were bought and sold twice. You were married to a sick man who was dying. You were forced to sleep with the crop in order to balance his yin and yang elements. You barely escaped from your in-laws. You came to Chin-kiang friendless and family-less and still are. Have you ever questioned the god you worship?”

Lilac shook her head and began to weep.

“Well, consider your disappointment an investment!” Papa said.

“An investment?” Lilac’s big eyes widened.

Absalom frowned.

Papa’s tongue had never been so slippery as his words poured. “This investment warns you not to make any more bad choices, so that you won’t end up captive to evil spirits forever!”

“But I have been burning incense!” Lilac protested. “I don’t deserve bad luck forever!”

“Have you ever asked yourself the reason that bad luck still follows you?” Papa asked.

Lilac shook her head.

“Why you and no one else?”

“Why?”

To drive home his point, Papa punched his right fist into his left palm. “It’s the wrong god you have been worshipping!”

Lilac was stunned.

“The Christian God says, Lilac, you deserve a chance for a better life. Yes, you, Lilac!” Like an opera singer, Papa commanded the stage. “God tells me that Lilac deserves the same chance as his beloved son, the Lord Jesus Christ! Now make your wish and claim it!”

“I’d certainly make that wish,” Lilac said in a small voice. “But first and most of all I wish that my eggs be given a chance to become chickens.”

I admired Lilac because she never complained about her misfortune. She was always cheerful and kind. Her egg service was fully booked before winter. This year she thought that I was old enough to help her separate the good eggs from the bad. She hired me. What surprised me was that Pearl was there too. I learned that Pearl had been visiting Lilac since she had been a little girl. Lilac’s egg house was her playground. Lilac adored Pearl because she was such a dependable helper. Carie told Lilac that her daughter was permitted there for the learning experience. Pearl had so much fun that she would forget to go home. Wang Ah-ma had to come and drag her back at the end of the day.

At Lilac’s request, Pearl showed me the way. I learned that it would take about a month and a half for the eggs to hatch. Pearl taught me to separate eggs from the main basket. We removed the eggs that were too small or whose shells were too thin, or had a broken yolk or had been in the storage too long.

Pearl told me that what she loved to do most was shine the eggs. This was done after Lilac sealed the egg house, leaving only a small hole in the door. Pearl and I took turns holding the eggs in front of the hole where the sunlight shone through. This was called “the first look.” The purpose was to see if the egg yolk carried a pearl. If there was a pearl, the hen had been visited by a rooster, which meant that the egg would turn into a chick.

After the examination, we placed the qualified eggs in warm baskets padded with cotton. Lilac would take the baskets and store them underneath her big brick bed behind her stove. We had to wait for four days to have “the second look.”

The purpose of the second look was to see if the pearl had swelled. Lilac taught us to hold the egg in our palm. Back and forth we turned the egg toward the sun. We looked for a shadow, the pearl. It was not an easy task and it took an experienced eye. Afterward we removed the eggs that hadn’t swelled. Again we put the qualified eggs in the cotton-padded baskets and put them under Lilac’s bed.

We would repeat the procedure every four days. It was what Lilac called “the third look” and “the fourth look.” When the shadow became clear to our eyes, we moved all the egg baskets from underneath Lilac’s big bed and transferred them to ceramic pots. Inside the pots was a mixture of earth and straw. It looked like a hot cave. A tiny fire was built underneath the pots to keep the temperature warm. According to Lilac, this was the most crucial step. If it was too hot, the eggs would be cooked. If it wasn’t warm enough, the pearl wouldn’t turn into a chick.

The success or failure of Lilac’s year would be determined in a few days. Lilac invited all her gods onto her walls. She lit incense and performed ceremonies begging to be blessed. This year she put up a picture of Jesus Christ.

I was tempted to take a peek into the pots. But Pearl refused to go along with me. She followed Lilac’s instruction faithfully. Like a mother hen, Lilac wouldn’t leave her eggs. Day and night, she guarded the pots, adding and withdrawing straw to and from the fire. She no longer spoke but whispered-she was afraid to disturb the eggs. I watched Pearl draw pictures of Lilac, who was sleeping with her mouth wide open. Lilac had been talking about making good money hatching her eggs before she fell asleep. In the last two-week period Lilac had grown thin. She had no time to eat or sleep. She feared that the temperature would waver and destroy her harvest. Her eyes became red and her cheeks sunken. Pearl and I avoided talking to Lilac because she was irritable and nervous.