Amy Tan - The Joy Luck Club

This ghost of a woman should have caused no suffering to my mother, but in fact she put ideas into her head. My mother believed she too had suffered enough to deserve her own household, perhaps not in Tsinan, but one to the east, in little Petaiho, which was a beautiful seaside resort filled with terraces and gardens and wealthy widows.

"We are going to live in a house of our own," she told me happily the day snow fell on the ground all around our house. She was wearing a new silk fur-lined gown the bright turquoise color of kingfisher feathers. "The house will not be as big as this one. It will be very small. But we can live by ourselves, with Yan Chang and a few other servants. Wu Tsing has promised this already."

During the coldest winter month, we were all bored, adults and children alike. We did not dare go outside. Yan Chang warned me that my skin would freeze and crack into a thousand pieces. And the other servants always gossiped about everyday sights they had seen in town: the back stoops of stores always blocked with the frozen bodies of beggars. Man or woman, you couldn't tell, they were so dusty with a thick cover of snow.

So every day we stayed in the house, thinking of ways to amuse ourselves. My mother looked at foreign magazines and clipped out pictures of dresses she liked, and then she went downstairs to discuss with the tailor how such a dress could be made using the materials available.

I did not like to play with Third Wife's daughters, who were as docile and dull as their mother. Those girls were content looking out the window all day, watching the sun come up and go down. So instead, Yan Chang and I roasted chestnuts on top of the little coal stove. And burning our fingers while eating these sweet nuggets, we naturally started to giggle and gossip. Then I heard the clock clang and the same song began to play. Yan Chang pretended to sing badly in the classic opera style and we both laughed out loud, remembering how Second Wife had sung yesterday evening, accompanying her quavering voice on a three-stringed lute and making many mistakes. She had caused everyone to suffer through this evening's entertainment, until Wu Tsing declared it was enough suffering by falling asleep in his chair. And laughing about this, Yan Chang told me a story about Second Wife.

"Twenty years ago, she had been a famous Shantung sing-song girl, a woman of some respect, especially among married men who frequented teahouses. While she had never been pretty, she was clever, an enchantress. She could play several musical instruments, sing ancient tales with heartbreaking clarity, and touch her finger to her cheek and cross her tiny feet in just the right manner.

"Wu Tsing had asked her to be his concubine, not for love, but because of the prestige of owning what so many other men wanted. And this sing-song girl, after she had seen his enormous wealth and his feebleminded first wife, consented to become his concubine.

"From the start, Second Wife knew how to control Wu Tsing's money. She knew by the way his face paled at the sound of the wind that he was fearful of ghosts. And everybody knows that suicide is the only way a woman can escape a marriage and gain revenge, to come back as a ghost and scatter tea leaves and good fortune. So when he refused her a bigger allowance, she did pretend-suicide. She ate a piece of raw opium, enough to make her sick, and then sent her maid to tell Wu Tsing she was dying. Three days later, Second Wife had an allowance even bigger than what she had asked.

"She did so many pretend-suicides, we servants began to suspect she no longer bothered to eat the opium. Her acting was potent enough. Soon she had a better room in the house, her own private rickshaw, a house for her elderly parents, a sum for buying blessings at temples.

"But one thing she could not have: children. And she knew Wu Tsing would soon become anxious to have a son who could perform the ancestral rites and therefore guarantee his own spiritual eternity. So before Wu Tsing could complain about Second Wife's lack of sons, she said: 'I have already found her, a concubine suitable to bear your sons. By her very nature, you can see she is a virgin.' And this was quite true. As you can see, Third Wife is quite ugly. She does not even have small feet.

"Third Wife was of course indebted to Second Wife for arranging this, so there was no argument over management of the household. And even though Second Wife did not need to lift a finger, she oversaw the purchase of food and supplies, she approved the hiring of servants, she invited relatives on festival days. She found wet nurses for each of the three daughters Third Wife bore for Wu Tsing. And later, when Wu Tsing was again impatient for a son and began to spend too much money in teahouses in other cities, Second Wife arranged it so that your mother became Wu Tsing's third concubine and fourth wife!"

Yan Chang revealed this story in such a natural and lively way that I applauded her clever ending. We continued to crack chestnuts open, until I could no longer remain quiet.

"What did Second Wife do so my mother would marry Wu Tsing?" I asked timidly.

"A little child cannot understand such things!" she scolded.

I immediately looked down and remained silent, until Yan Chang became restless again to hear her own voice speak on this quiet afternoon.

"Your mother," said Yan Chang, as if talking to herself, "is too good for this family."

"Five years ago-your father had died only one year before-she and I went to Hangchow to visit the Six Harmonies Pagoda on the far side of West Lake. Your father had been a respected scholar and also devoted to the six virtues of Buddhism enshrined in this pagoda. So your mother kowtowed in the pagoda, pledging to observe the right harmony of body, thoughts, and speech, to refrain from giving opinions, and to shun wealth. And when we boarded the boat to cross the lake again, we sat opposite a man and a woman. This was Wu Tsing and Second Wife.

"Wu Tsing must have seen her beauty immediately. Back then your mother had hair down to her waist, which she tied high up on her head. And she had unusual skin, a lustrous pink color. Even in her white widow's clothes she was beautiful! But because she was a widow, she was worthless in many respects. She could not remarry.

"But this did not stop Second Wife from thinking of a way. She was tired of watching her household's money being washed away in so many different teahouses. The money he spent was enough to support five more wives! She was anxious to quiet Wu Tsing's outside appetite. So she conspired with Wu Tsing to lure your mother to his bed.

"She chatted with your mother, discovered that she planned to go to the Monastery of the Spirits' Retreat the next day. And Second Wife showed up at that place as well. And after more friendly talk, she invited your mother to dinner. Your mother was so lonely for good conversation she gladly accepted. And after the dinner, Second Wife said to your mother, 'Do you play mah jong? Oh, it doesn't matter if you play badly. We are only three people now and cannot play at all unless you would be kind enough to join us tomorrow night.'

"The next night, after a long evening of mah jong, Second Wife yawned and insisted my mother spend the night. 'Stay! Stay! Don't be so polite. No, your politeness is really more inconvenient. Why wake the rickshaw boy?' said Second Wife. 'Look here, my bed is certainly big enough for two.'

"As your mother slept soundly in Second Wife's bed, Second Wife got up in the middle of the night and left the dark room, and Wu Tsing took her place. When your mother awoke to find him touching her beneath her undergarments, she jumped out of bed. He grabbed her by her hair and threw her on the floor, then put his foot on her throat and told her to undress. Your mother did not scream or cry when he fell on her.