This is what I want—to have her ears, to place the story of Ernest’s struggle into her hands, to free myself from the past, but I don’t know why I nearly lost myself. I can’t blame the refugees who didn’t know me; the truth is I’ve been blaming myself for all these years. I feel the prick behind my eyes. “I suppose we’re both responsible, Ernest and me. Had it not been for him, none of the tragedies could have happened. I would not regret what I have done for all my life, and I would not be sitting here talking to you.”
52
JANUARY 1942
AIYI
The Chinese New Year came at the end of the month. It was the Year of the Horse, with the element of water. An unlucky year, as water indicated tears. For the past seven weeks I had been locked inside, I shouted, screamed, and pounded on the doors, but no one listened. Food and water were delivered at the door, which was chained and left only wide enough for me to reach out. I had nothing to do. I slept day and night, and I paced from the purple-tented bed to the rosewood chair.
To keep sane, I played jazz in my head: “Summertime,” “They Can’t Take That Away from Me,” “Crawl Charleston,” and my favorite, “The Last Rose of Shanghai.” I laughed and cried, remembering how Ernest used to play that for me, and me humming those notes of joy, swaying my hips, stomping the floor. Music, once my livelihood, my passion, now the hymn of freedom, my medication.
Each week, my pragmatic sister-in-law, Peiyu, reminded me of my wedding at the end of February. Sitting on a chair outside my room, sipping her soup, she tried to talk sense into me. “You understand, you can’t find a better husband than Cheng. He’s the only heir of his family. Once his mother passes, you’ll be the matriarch; you’ll be entitled to all his wealth, his family’s shipping business.”
“If you like his money so much, you should marry him.”
“Don’t be silly.” A slurp of soup. “Would you like to have some sweet rice ball soup with red dates? We ran out of dried longyan. Everything is so expensive. The inflation is killing us. The same fish costs five cents in the morning, fifty in the afternoon!”
Finally, she sighed and left, her small lotus feet padding across the stone ground, the squeaky toddler trailing behind her. She was two, or three, not that I cared.
Ying’s voice came one afternoon. “So what did I miss? You cheated on Cheng with that pianist. Is it true?”
I pressed to the door. “I’m going crazy, Ying. Can you let me out? Do you have the key?”
“Fuck.” He sighed. “Look, he shouldn’t have hit you, but this is about your future. You know well we don’t decide whom to marry. We owe our lives to our parents. You and a foreigner. What the hell were you thinking? When is your wedding again?”
“I want to get out. Let me out, Ying.”
“It’s not up to me. By the way, your lover came to see you.”
“Ernest? He came here?”
“No. I was talking about Cheng.”
He had come once, giving me a resolute statement that there would be no annulment, and his mother would not be told of my request. The wedding was still on. In two weeks.
I threw a pillow at the door, and Ying said, “Grow up, little sister. You have no idea what a good life you have. The world is turning upside down. Shanghai is a living hell. The Japanese soldiers are patrolling everywhere. People are hiding behind doors, and the foreigners in Shanghai are collected for slaughter.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Your lover is probably dead by now. Or sent to a camp.”
“What camp?”
He was chewing an apple; I could hear the crunch. He went on to say that Japanese carriers, Mitsubishi Zero fighters, bombers, and destroyers had descended on Pearl Harbor and attacked the United States of America on the same day they attacked the Settlement. The Americans finally declared war against Japan. But the Japanese had launched a full assault. They invaded Hong Kong, their naval and air force killing thousands on the island. They flew over South Asia and sunk two British battleships, one named the Prince of Wales and the other Repulse. They captured Malaya, bombed Manila, and attacked the Dutch East Indies. The British had surrendered Hong Kong and retreated to Singapore, and the Americans had given up Manila and fled to the Bataan Peninsula. “They are helpless. They can barely cover their own asses.”
“What camp were you talking about, Ying?”
“The world is on fire, little sister. Forget about your pianist. No one is safe; no country is safe. If you want to stay alive, stay in your room.”