Petals From The Sky Part 26

She plunged on excitingly. "I had a friend who had a white ghost husband. Not only did he sweat like a coolie, he gobbled food like a refugee, roared with laughter like a huge broken bell struck by a lunatic, and embarra.s.sed her women friends by was.h.i.+ng his throat with wine and making gurgling sounds like he's doing you-know-what. One time during a banquet when he got drunk, he glanced at the women and said, 'How come when an old hag reaches fifty, she's still h.o.r.n.y,' then, 'Don't worry if a girl's ugly, as long as she's handy.'"

Finally Mother concluded her harangue. "That's what people end up with when they marry a gweilo gweilo."

"Ma, but Michael is nothing like this. He's a doctor."

"A doctor?" Mother sneered. "Of what? Philosophy? Or poetry?"

"Ma, didn't you just worry that I would never get married? So aren't you happy now that someone has proposed?"

In the shop window, the golden twilight glistening in the reflection softened Mother's visage; sometimes I could see my face in her older one. Her robust figure turned more supple; even the deep purple suit she wore now spoke with a softer hue.

"Hai!" Mother sighed. "Meng Ning, of course I'm glad you're getting married. But...I'm also afraid." Mother sighed. "Meng Ning, of course I'm glad you're getting married. But...I'm also afraid."

"Of what?"

"That you'll be...unhappy"-she let out a long sigh-"like your mother."

A long pause. Traffic whizzed by. Restless people and speeding cars kept pa.s.sing through her in the gla.s.s.

But Mother was fine. For nothing can hurt a soul in a mirage. As no one can steal the moon reflected on a river.

Mother had the same expression when she watched Beijing opera with me when I was a child. Now I certainly understood why she liked the painted-face actors so much, but got so upset when I aspired to be one.

However, I still couldn't fathom the way she loved me, even though I had shared the same roof and nearly the same face with her for thirty years.

Now in the s.h.i.+mmering reflection of the shop window, our eyes parted as swiftly as they had touched, like a pair of kissing fish. I gazed at my own face and found my thirty-year-old mother there, whispering to me all her girlish dreams, eyes fresh.

I wanted to love her back as much as she loved me, and much more.

I touched her elbow. "Ma, don't worry."

"Hai!" Mother sighed again. "I'm a very careful person, but see what happened to me with your father." She put a strand of my hair in place. Mother sighed again. "I'm a very careful person, but see what happened to me with your father." She put a strand of my hair in place.

My mother could be very difficult in her own way, but despite being of the older generation, she had only occasionally nagged me about finding a husband.

Her remarks about the fish bones, about Sally Yeh, and today about the story of the fish spirit were the few times she had hinted marriage to me.

If I had not misread her face pattern, nor misinterpreted her dreams.

I said after a long silence, "Ma, although I said yes to Michael's proposal, I might still"-I swallowed hard-"break the engagement."

Mother's voice shot two octaves higher. "Turn down a doctor? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? How many girls will be befriended by a doctor, let alone asked to be married?" How many girls will be befriended by a doctor, let alone asked to be married?"

A middle-aged man cast us a curious glance.

My cheeks felt hot. I stammered, "I mean...Ma, I'll be careful...I mean, if Michael turns out to be bad, I can...always get a divorce."

Mother spat, "Choi! Daigut laisi! It's bad luck to talk about divorce before you're married!" It's bad luck to talk about divorce before you're married!" Daigut laisi Daigut laisi means "great prosperity and luck," to counteract anything bad that's been said. means "great prosperity and luck," to counteract anything bad that's been said.

"Ma, calm down. People are staring at us."

"Then watch your mouth and stop saying unlucky things."

"All right, all right."

We resumed walking along Waterloo Road and I began to tell Mother, amid the intense heat and noise, everything about Michael. Except, of course, my recent baffling experiences in New York, my confusion. After that, I took the engagement ring that Michael had bought me out of my purse.

Mother looked at the stone with envy. "Beautiful, excellent fire!" she exclaimed, then asked timidly, "Can I try?"

"Of course." Right in the middle of the busy boulevard, I slipped the ring onto her fourth finger, but it was too small, so I took it off and slipped it onto her little finger.

My eyes stung when I saw a big smile bloom on her face. "Ma, anything more that you want?"

"I only want my daughter to be happy," she said, giving me back the ring.

30.

A Trip to China My trip to doc.u.ment the art of grottoes in Anyue was scheduled to last for a month. Michael was not very happy upon hearing the news.

Across eight thousand miles, I could clearly sense disappointment in his voice. "Meng Ning, I know I can't stop you from going. But please take very good care of yourself and don't make me worry."

When he asked for my address and phone number in China, I said, "I'll be staying in a temple and there is no phone. Anyway, I'll try my best to find a phone to call you from time to time."

His voice suddenly turned distressed and alarmed. "You mean I can't reach you, not at all?"

"But don't worry, Michael, I'm traveling with nuns and Guan Yin. We'll be protected. Anyway, you have the temple's address, so you can write to me."

This time I really wanted to be left alone, not only to concentrate on my work, but also to clear my mind to make the most important decision in my life.

On October tenth, Enlightened to Emptiness and I took a flight from Hong Kong to Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan, and from there, a seemingly endless ride in a decrepit van to the Anyue grottoes.

Long before the van ride was over, any jealousy I'd felt toward Enlightened to Emptiness had dissipated. She was too innocent and too young for me to harbor such feelings toward her.

The driver, Mr. Qian, a volunteer from the Circular Reflection Monastery where we were going to stay, asked whether this was our first trip to China.

Enlightened to Emptiness uttered an excited "Yes!"

I said, "I've only been to Guanzhou...."

"Then you'll be surprised to see the differences in the north," he enthused, "and I'm sure you'll like it."

But I was not so sure. What slipped past us among the spa.r.s.e trees were low gray buildings decorated with two different kinds of banners: official admonitions such as Let's build a civilized China, Let's build a civilized China, and and Marry late, have one child Marry late, have one child, or unofficial ones: clothes, towels, bed sheets, blankets, underwear, all fluttering lazily in the air. I saw a motorcycle pa.s.s with a large wicker basket containing dozens of chickens, squealing and flapping, their feathers scattering in the air while the vehicle drove toward their ill-fated destination. A boy was smoking in front of a store, under the watchful eye of his admiring father.

I soon dozed off.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, we finally arrived at the town and then, after another fifteen minutes' ride on a narrow winding path, the Circular Reflection Monastery. A fortyish nun with a round face came to answer the door. Mr. Qian introduced us and we exchanged bows. The nun, Compa.s.sionate Wonder, split a wide grin. "Our s.h.i.+fu has been expecting you two the whole day. She's been very excited to have visitors from so far-me, too."

On our way to the dorm, Compa.s.sionate Wonder said, "You two are our first guests from Hong Kong. Our humble temple is brightened by your visit."

I almost chuckled. What was the big deal to have someone from Hong Kong? But I put on a smile and said, "I'm flattered."

Enlightened to Emptiness immediately threw in, "And I'm honored."

Compa.s.sionate Wonder let out a hearty laugh. "Ah, so Hong Kong people also have a glib tongue!"

Enlightened to Emptiness and I were led to different dorms: she was to live with the other nuns while I, a lay person, took a room in the dorm for Buddhist guests. I unpacked, took a shower, and then we were served snacks. Since my friend refused to break the monastic rule of no eating after noon, I was the only one to enjoy the steaming buns and fragrant tea in the Fragrance Acc.u.mulating Kitchen.

Around three, Compa.s.sionate Wonder took us to see the abbess, Beckoning Invisibility s.h.i.+fu. I took an instant liking to this sixtyish, plump woman. Always smiling, she seemed to be soaked in the endless joy of the Dharma.

While Compa.s.sionate Wonder was busy serving tea and snacks, Beckoning Invisibility, her small eyes darting between my friend and me, said, "I was told many times how beautiful Hong Kong is, and today I finally have the chance to greet someone from there. How wonderful."

After returning her praise with our hands together in the prayer gesture and a demure "thank you but you overpraise," Enlightened to Emptiness and I presented to the abbess our gifts-a book on Buddhist architecture and a bronze incense burner carved with lotuses.

Only after several more rounds of politenesses, tea pouring, and drinking, did the abbess finally take us for a tour of the temple where she introduced us to the other s.h.i.+fus and to the workers and volunteers. Around seven, Enlightened to Emptiness and I retired early to our dorms.

The next morning I woke up at six. Enlightened to Emptiness had probably awakened much earlier, for in my semi-wakeful state, I could hear chanting drifting from the Hall of Grand Heroic Treasures. After a quick wash, I joined the nuns in the kitchen for a breakfast of porridge, buns, and pickled vegetables-simple but delicious after my sound sleep. Then, with not much ado, we grabbed our belongings and set out for the grotto sculptures.

Four of us climbed into the same rickety van provided by the temple: Mr. Qian, the driver who'd brought us here yesterday; a lanky young man named Little Lam, who'd be our guide as well as help us with odds and ends during the trip; Enlightened to Emptiness; and me.

Yi Kong wanted me to survey at least three grottoes, and our first destination was the Sleeping Buddha Temple located in Bamiao Towns.h.i.+p, forty kilometers north of Anyue.

After about an hour, with a sharp turn of the van, Mr. Qian announced that we'd arrived. He said that he wouldn't join us for the tour, for he'd rather stay in the van with his favorite company-Longlife brand cigarettes.

I stepped out of the van and gasped. I'd never seen a Buddha so huge.

Carved out of an entire cliff, he was lying with his head facing east and his feet west. Little Lam came up to me and said, "Impressive, isn't it? The Buddha's length is twenty-three hundred meters."

I turned to pa.s.s this information to Enlightened to Emptiness, but saw that she was prostrating vigorously on the ground and mumbling-probably a sutra sutra or Hail to the Buddha's Name. I also bowed and said a short prayer. or Hail to the Buddha's Name. I also bowed and said a short prayer.

I walked here and there, shading my eyes while taking in different views of this gargantuan yet peacefully reclining statue, as well as the group of figures on its top. Two figures stood at the Buddha's feet-one was the warrior attendant and the other one a woman mourning his death.

Without delay, Enlightened to Emptiness and I got to work, taking pictures and writing down detailed descriptions of the statues' iconography: headdresses, facial expressions, mudras, mudras, postures, drapery, amulets, and other decorations. We transcribed inscriptions, worked out dates, and recorded damage. During our work, people hovered around us and interrupted our concentration with unending questions: postures, drapery, amulets, and other decorations. We transcribed inscriptions, worked out dates, and recorded damage. During our work, people hovered around us and interrupted our concentration with unending questions: "Do you work for the cultural or the religious department?"

"You speak with an accent-where did you come from?"

"What's the brand of your camera. Nikon? Canon?"

"You married? Why not?"

"How many children do you have?"

"How much money do you make?"

One young man even looked over my shoulder and read aloud my notes. Knowing that I was from Hong Kong, a middle-aged woman asked me to teach her English.

Ignoring the distractions, Enlightened to Emptiness and I worked fast-we couldn't afford to waste time. At four in the afternoon, we'd already finished initial doc.u.mentation of cave no. 44 with a double dragon sculpture, cave no. 54 with three Buddhas, and cave no. 59 with reliefs of apsaras apsaras-flying bodhisattvas.

A few hours later, the van driver, Mr. Qian, began walking restlessly outside the cave, so we knew it was time to go back.

The days pa.s.sed with us getting up early, eating a large steaming bowl of noodles for breakfast, then riding out to the temple complex in the van with Mr. Qian. Little Lam soon stopped coming, having tired of watching us work in the caves. The days blurred together as we recorded the contents of cave after cave, then rode back home in the van. I ate alone most evenings, since Enlightened to Emptiness continued keeping her vow not to eat after noon. Then I would wash in water brought up in a large, stained, plastic bucket and go to bed.

I was happy to be using what I'd struggled so long to learn, yet I felt no desire to spend years in the remote dusty reaches of China. The place was so secluded, and the work so exhausting, that I truly achieved an empty mind. The confusion that had overwhelmed me in New York was letting me alone for now, but waiting, like the phoenix, to soar again.

On a hot day during the third week, we were working at our last destination of the day-cave no. 45 of the thousand-armed Guan Yin. This cave felt so cool that I gave out a sigh of comfort as I stepped in. I took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from my face, then I turned to smile at my young friend. "s.h.i.+fu, wouldn't it be nice if we could now have a c.o.ke with ice?"

"Hmmm..." She thought for a while. "But I'd rather have iced green bean soup-that's what really dissipates the heat."

"Not a bad idea, s.h.i.+fu!"

Still laughing, our eyes caught the statue.

My friend gasped. I let out a small cry.

"Poor Guan Yin," I blurted out, "she has lost at least half of her arms!"

The young nun exclaimed, "And her whole face is gone!"

Seeing this heartbreaking sight, Enlightened to Emptiness immediately plopped down and did prostrations. I did them with her. After we'd finished, we stood up and scrutinized the mutilated G.o.ddess.

Enlightened to Emptiness whispered to me as if fearing that the earless statue might hear our conversation. "Miss Du"-she was now counting the G.o.ddess's outstretched arms-"there are only five left." Then she exclaimed, "Ai-ya!" "Ai-ya!" and shook her head in dismay. and shook her head in dismay.

If all objects, like humans, have fate, then surely this thousand-armed Guan Yin's was not as lucky as the others who had the fortune to escape natural or man-inflicted damage. Then I thought of the Golden Body, dead for a hundred years, with the luck to be cared for and pampered like the living, or should I say, better than the living.

When I raised my camera to take another picture, I noticed the bare s.p.a.ce on my left ring finger. Not wanting to take any risk that it might attract too much attention or even get stolen in China, I had left the engagement ring back home. Because of my hectic schedule in Anyue, I hadn't thought much about Michael. It's sad to realize the truth that human emotions are, like the stone statues, equally vulnerable to the lapse of time. Now ten thousand miles away, was I also out of Michael's mind?

My gaze fell on the two large holes in the G.o.ddess's face. I stared at them as an emptiness started to gnaw at me. I didn't want my life to end up like the holes-dark, empty, forgotten.