Mingmei Yip - Petals from the Sky

“What do you mean?” My heart raced. “Then who is she? And…Ma, why are you suddenly telling me this?”

“Because-”

“Because what?”

Mother sighed. “Because since you’re getting married, I’m obliged to make some confessions before you become someone else’s wife and daughter.”

Before I had a chance to tell her that she didn’t have to worry that I’d be someone else’s daughter because Michael was an orphan, she had already spat out, “No Name, or Beautiful Cloud, or whatever, was your father’s fiancée.”

“You mean the one for whom Baba was buying gold for their upcoming wedding in Grandma’s gold store-where he ran into you after you two had lost contact for eight years?”

“Yes. It’s sad that she ended up being a nun, but not my fault.”

“You mean it’s Baba’s fault?”

“No, not his neither.” Mother rolled her eyes. “It’s Beautiful Cloud’s.”

“How?”

“Simple.” She shrugged. “She was not attractive enough to charm your father, but I did, even when I was only nine.”

I almost chuckled.

Mother ignored me. “But later when I lost my charms, then your father let himself be charmed by other more beautiful clouds.”

I didn’t respond, for that was not news to me. All those women at the gambling houses in Hong Kong and Macao, they weren’t just playing cards with Father, were they?

Mother swallowed her egg tart. “So I also cheated on him.”

I almost spilled my tea and fell off the sofa. “Ma, do you know what you’re talking about?”

“Of course.” She paused, then said, “You remember your little brother?”

“Of course.”

“He’s…only your half brother.”

“What?!”

“His real father is a gweilo.” Foreign devil. Barbarian.

“A gweilo? Ma, how could you! What are you talking about?” Now I felt myself not only plunge down a deep valley, but dash into pieces at the bottom, my brain spilled all over.

“Calm down, Meng Ning,” Mother said. “Why not? Aren’t you now marrying a gweilo yourself?”

I was speechless.

She made a face. “Don’t panic, Meng Ning, it was nothing serious; just…one night…no, two…hmm…actually, maybe it was three-nights stand.”

“Ma, are you sure you know what you’re talking about?” My voice remained in the high register.

“Why does a daughter always sound so suspicious when her mother is telling her the truth?”

“Then tell me, who is this gweilo-an American?”

“Yes. He was an ambassador in the American Consulate-”

“An ambassador? Oh no, not possible!”

“If my daughter can charm a doctor, how come her mother’s not good enough to attract an ambassador?”

“Ma…” My voice now sounded defeated. “All right, how did you meet?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Can you just let me finish in peace?”

Mother sipped more tea, popped several shrimp chips into her mouth, and chewed noisily. “It was the year of the dog, when we lived in Wanchai. One late afternoon I went to the market to shop for food. Besides some meat and vegetables, I also bought two live chicks. I wanted to raise them to cook for the Chinese New Year, which was coming in three months. You know, it’s much cheaper that way than if you buy them during the New Year. Your father, as usual, was not at home, probably in Macao gambling his ass off. I was walking along the pier and thinking about his gambling until I started to cry. Damn the year of the dog that made me work like a dog. I kept cursing and spitting into the angry waves below the pier. Since I was not paying attention, I bumped into a lamppost and fell. The vegetables and meat spilled all over the ground and all the chicks ran loose. I was busy getting up and then trying to catch them. Several Chinese gathered to watch, but no one helped. Then this gweilo -by the way, his name is Jim Si-”

“You mean James? James what?”

“How am I supposed to remember? It’s been such a long time. Anyway, no Chinese can pronounce that last name, it’s too crazy. And anyway, Jim Si put down his expensive-looking briefcase and helped me up; then in his expensive-looking suit he chased after the chicks and finally got them back for me, then…then-”

“Then what?”

“Then you know what.” Mother’s eyes suddenly went blank.

“You mean you did that thing with him, just like that? But where could it have happened?”

“In our apartment-where else could it have been?” Mother looked me in the eyes for moments without blinking. “It’s just a few blocks from the market-”

“That…quickly? Ma, you hardly knew him!” I was yelling again.

Mother ignored my shock and went on, her expression turning tender. “Jim Si deeply moved my heart. He acted so gentlemanly, helping up a poor woman and chasing around for those filthy, fifty-cent chicks in his expensive suit in front of the Chinese onlookers. Since I couldn’t afford to buy him a gift to show my gratitude, I thought I could at least offer him a cup of tea to show my appreciation. That was why I invited him to our house, not only for a cup of tea, but also to wash his hands and clean his clothes. After that, he came for one more cup of tea, and I went to his office for a cup of coffee and that was that.”

“You mean you went to the American Consulate in Garden Road in Central?!”

Mother proudly nodded. “Very classy office, clean, painted all white with lots of sun and air and plants.”

“And where did you…” I felt too embarrassed to finish my sentence.

So Mother finished it for me. “Meng Ning, silly girl, you’re a painter, right? So you must know there’re different angles to paint an object. So, by the same logic…there’s also more than one way to-” She gulped down her tea and made a face. “To do you-know-what.”

“Then what happened to him after that?”

“He said the consulate had to transfer him back to America. But of course he lied, for I saw him twice, by accident, several months after, with other women. When I tried to accost him, he pretended not to recognize me.”

“I’m sorry…Where was I when all this happened?”

“At school, where do you think you’d be? You went to afternoon school, remember? It was cheaper.”

“So he’s…little brother’s father?”

Mother shrugged.

“Ma! What do you mean? Yes or no?”

Mother nodded.

“Did you tell him that?”

“No chance. I tried to, but never made it. The guard by the consulate’s entrance never let me in.”

“Did Baba know about this?”

“I don’t know-maybe yes, maybe no. Of course I didn’t have the chance to tell him either.”

“But couldn’t he tell the baby was Eurasian?”

“Possibly, but not necessarily. Your little brother was only three days old when he died. How can one tell with a three-day-old?”

I suspected that Father had known, at least sort of. Otherwise how could he have taken little brother’s death so lightly? I’d never considered that little brother’s death, instead of a punishment for her love with Father, as I’d always guessed, was in fact the karma for her love with a gweilo.

Mother sighed. “Hai! Meng Ning, you understand now why your marrying a gweilo worries me?”

I didn’t respond. A meditative silence, then she asked, tentatively, “Meng Ning, do you…despise your mother now?”

In fact, I didn’t, not at all. Strangely enough, after I’d learned the secret, I even felt happy for Mother. Now at least her life didn’t seem that miserable after all. She’d had some fun. Besides, I also admired her. This took courage, didn’t it? Especially when it happened almost twenty years ago when Hong Kong people were very closed-minded and any contact with gweilos was considered wicked.