wondered if ‘nice legs’ looked anything like my legs.
10
Nanking, 4 April 1937, the Festival of the Clear and Bright
My mother must be laughing now – she must be looking at me and laughing at all my reservations and my cold impatience over this marriage. Because, it seems, Shujin and I are going to have a child! A child! Imagine that. Shi Chongming, the ugly little toad, a father! Here, at last, is something to celebrate. A child to bring order to the laws of physics and love, a child to reveal reason behind the subtle codes of society. A child to help me embrace the future wholeheartedly.
Shujin, naturally, has been thrown into a frenzy of superstition. There are so many important things to consider. I watch her in bemusement, trying to take it all in, trying to treat it all with the deepest seriousness. First, this morning, came a long list of forbidden food – she will no longer allow squid and octopus and pineapple into the house, and I am to make a daily trip to the market to buy black boned chicken, liver, plum, lotus seed and balls of congealed duck blood. And from today it is my responsibility to kill the chickens that come squawking home from market, for if Shujin kills any animal, even an animal for food, it appears that our baby will take on the beast’s shape and she will give birth to a chicken or a duck!
But, and this is the most important of all, we must not refer to our son (she is sure we will have a son) as ‘baby’ or ‘child’, because the bad spirits might hear us and try to steal him at birth. Instead she has given him a name to confuse the spirits, a ‘milk-name’, she calls it. From herein ‘moon’ is how we must refer to our child whenever we speak. ‘You cannot imagine the manner of evil beings who would snatch away a newborn. Our moon soul would be the most precious prize a demon could ever hope for. And,’ here she held up her hand to stave off my interruption, ‘never forget – our little moon is very fragile. Please don’t shout or be argumentative around me. We must not disturb his soul.’
‘I see,’ I said, a small smile playing on my mouth, because I found the level of her ingenuity quite marvellous. ‘Well, in that case, moon soul it is. And from this moment on let only peace exist between these four walls.’
11
The Russians said it was no surprise that Jason was making jokes about the Nurse. They said they’d always known he was a strange one. They said that his walls were covered with horrible photographs, that he often received wrapped specialist magazines from mailing addresses in Thailand, and that sometimes odd things with no great value went missing around the house: Irina’s statuette of a fighting bear in real animal skin, a single wolf-fur glove, a photograph of the girls’ grandparents. Maybe, they speculated, he was a devil worshipper. ‘He watch sick stuff, sick till it make you to puke. His videos, always the videos with death .’
You could see the videos they were talking about displayed in the rental shops on Waseda Street. They all had titles like Faces of Death and Mortuary Madness and all the lettering seemed to be in lurid blood drips. Genuine autopsy footage! the covers boasted, and you’d have thought they were all about sex if you saw the crowds of adolescent boys that always seemed to be hanging around that corner of the shop. I’d never actually seen one of the videos in the house so I didn’t know if the Russians were telling the truth. But I had seen Jason’s photographs.
‘I’ve been in Asia for four years,’ he’d told me. ‘You can take your Taj Mahals and your Angkor Wats. I’m looking for something . . .’ he’d paused then and rubbed his fingers together, as if he was trying to mould the words from the air, ‘. . . I’m looking for something more – something different.’ Once I’d happened to pass his room when the door was open and the room was empty. I couldn’t help it, I had to step inside.
I
10
Nanking, 4 April 1937, the Festival of the Clear and Bright
My mother must be laughing now – she must be looking at me and laughing at all my reservations and my cold impatience over this marriage. Because, it seems, Shujin and I are going to have a child! A child! Imagine that. Shi Chongming, the ugly little toad, a father! Here, at last, is something to celebrate. A child to bring order to the laws of physics and love, a child to reveal reason behind the subtle codes of society. A child to help me embrace the future wholeheartedly.
Shujin, naturally, has been thrown into a frenzy of superstition. There are so many important things to consider. I watch her in bemusement, trying to take it all in, trying to treat it all with the deepest seriousness. First, this morning, came a long list of forbidden food – she will no longer allow squid and octopus and pineapple into the house, and I am to make a daily trip to the market to buy black boned chicken, liver, plum, lotus seed and balls of congealed duck blood. And from today it is my responsibility to kill the chickens that come squawking home from market, for if Shujin kills any animal, even an animal for food, it appears that our baby will take on the beast’s shape and she will give birth to a chicken or a duck!
But, and this is the most important of all, we must not refer to our son (she is sure we will have a son) as ‘baby’ or ‘child’, because the bad spirits might hear us and try to steal him at birth. Instead she has given him a name to confuse the spirits, a ‘milk-name’, she calls it. From herein ‘moon’ is how we must refer to our child whenever we speak. ‘You cannot imagine the manner of evil beings who would snatch away a newborn. Our moon soul would be the most precious prize a demon could ever hope for. And,’ here she held up her hand to stave off my interruption, ‘never forget – our little moon is very fragile. Please don’t shout or be argumentative around me. We must not disturb his soul.’
‘I see,’ I said, a small smile playing on my mouth, because I found the level of her ingenuity quite marvellous. ‘Well, in that case, moon soul it is. And from this moment on let only peace exist between these four walls.’
11
The Russians said it was no surprise that Jason was making jokes about the Nurse. They said they’d always known he was a strange one. They said that his walls were covered with horrible photographs, that he often received wrapped specialist magazines from mailing addresses in Thailand, and that sometimes odd things with no great value went missing around the house: Irina’s statuette of a fighting bear in real animal skin, a single wolf-fur glove, a photograph of the girls’ grandparents. Maybe, they speculated, he was a devil worshipper. ‘He watch sick stuff, sick till it make you to puke. His videos, always the videos with death .’
You could see the videos they were talking about displayed in the rental shops on Waseda Street. They all had titles like Faces of Death and Mortuary Madness and all the lettering seemed to be in lurid blood drips. Genuine autopsy footage! the covers boasted, and you’d have thought they were all about sex if you saw the crowds of adolescent boys that always seemed to be hanging around that corner of the shop. I’d never actually seen one of the videos in the house so I didn’t know if the Russians were telling the truth. But I had seen Jason’s photographs.
‘I’ve been in Asia for four years,’ he’d told me. ‘You can take your Taj Mahals and your Angkor Wats. I’m looking for something . . .’ he’d paused then and rubbed his fingers together, as if he was trying to mould the words from the air, ‘. . . I’m looking for something more – something different.’ Once I’d happened to pass his room when the door was open and the room was empty. I couldn’t help it, I had to step inside.
I
Similar Books
