Читать книгу The Pearl Jacket and Other Stories - Shouhua Qi - Страница 22

Wu Nianzhen

The last night of our honeymoon vacation, my bride suddenly became worried about the new family life that would begin soon. After all, aside from me, she would have to live with my mother and my siblings. With me she had long since felt comfortable and at ease. With my family, well, it was far from being so.

I tried to comfort her about this. After a while her concern seemed somewhat eased. She looked up and asked: “How should I call Mother?”

“We all call her ‘Ma.’ However, you can use the same greeting you are accustomed to.”

“You fool! Of course I will follow you in this.” She hit me with her fist gently and said: “However, I’ll have to practice first.”

So between stepping into the bathroom and falling asleep, she was calling out “Ma!” “Ma!” the entire time, her face lit with joy and happiness.

On the way home the tourist bus broke down on the expressway and we were delayed for three or four hours. By the time we reached Taibei, it was well past time for dinner. I suggested we find a casual place to eat but she wouldn’t’ agree.

“‘Ma’ must be waiting for us.” She said positively and murmured again, with a smile on her face: “Ma, Ma . . . ”

As my bride had expected, Ma and my siblings were waiting quietly at the dinner table. It was already 10:00pm.

Ma grasped my bride’s hand and made her sit in her own seat. Then she told me to sit in the chair left empty by my dead father. A long while passed before Ma found her voice and said with tears in her eyes: “From now on, you two will take care of this family. . . . ”

My bride and Ma held each other’s hand, smiling, their tears glinting under the warm light.

“I’ll take good care of the family. . . . ” My bride nodded, and called out suddenly, “Mommy!”

That night my bride sobbed long in my arms. Then she said: “I’m so sorry . . . I was too emotional. . . . I suddenly felt my heart being filled with the love of four people: you, Ma, my Dad . . . and . . . my Mommy. . . . ”

She closed her eyes as tears flowed down her cheeks and whispered in my ear: “Ah, you fool, you don’t understand. . . . ”

But I do.

My bride lost her mother at five. For 23 years she has been a good surrogate mother to her two younger sisters. She never had a chance to say “Mommy” again. Once she told me: “At the time mother was already in a coma. Father carried me to the sickbed and said: ‘Call Mommy, my child, call mommy. . . . ’ I remember, vaguely, that I called as loud as I could: ‘Mommy!’”

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