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Abe
Author's note:
My grandpa is that kind of guy who prefers grandsons over grandaughters. Nevertheless, he was nice and patient to me, and looked after me when I was a child who knew nothing. As I grew up I began to feel the subtle difference in the way he treated me and my cousin (a boy). Back then I was about to move back to the city to live with my parents; I never got the chance to tell him how I felt when I sensed and heard about me always being "a second choice" because I was a girl. I seldom called him when I went back to the city. One day he called me and the first thing he said was "Ying, you are a shinning star in my heart." That was how I started this story.
When I was little, Abe would hold me tight in his arms and lift me off the ground so high. When my feet could feel nothing but air, and when my whole body would truly rely on the strength of Abe’s arms, I felt free. It was a feeling beyond what one could imagine, raw and real excitement. At those moments, with a sudden blindness, I felt the air around me growing thinner and thinner as my mind was drawn out of my flesh. I had the illusion that somehow I was watching myself floating above the ground free of gravity. I never worried about him letting go. I trusted him with all my soul, so much that even the most dangerous thing brought me contentment and sense of security.
Up there, above the ground, I saw Abe’s head reflecting the light from the sky. His scalp was hairless, like the barren land of his village. At night I would pray sincerely for his hair to grow back, for him to be young and exuberant again; I prayed and prayed, for nothing but his hair and his happiness.
When I grew a bit older. Abe stopped our little game. I tried hard to lose some weight so that he could still manage to lift me with his arms, but he never seemed to understand the intention of my diet. Once he gave me a scornful look for not eating the whole bowl of rice during dinner. Even after so many years I would still remember the anger hidden behind those eyes. It was like fire trying to break through a window and slaughter anything present with its tyrannical heat. I was confused for the first time when I stared into his dark brown eyes and the slackened eyelids hanging upon the corner of his eye socket. I was too young to realize that first scornful look opened a door for me to unveil all the other terrible things waiting ahead.
Soon I grew taller than him, and the whole idea of our game lost its point. My most precious memory then became nothing to him, like dirt and ashes hanging in the air. When I told Abe how I felt free when he held me up, he laughed so loudly at me that all the birds from the scary trees above him fluttered their grey wings to escape his raucous laughter. He told me that was not freedom.
“What is it then, that feeling?” I asked him.
“That’s just dizziness, Ezra. ”
“Why would people feel dizzy?” I asked again.
“For a lot of reasons. Some people drink too much, and they feel it afterwards. Some people smoke. Never mind. For you, Ezra, for you it’s just height. You are afraid of the height. See what I mean.”
Abe answered slowly while craftily lighting up a cigarette. The smoke came out of his nostrils, reminding me of the gigantic Bull Monster in ancient Chinese mythology. I admired Abe for making smoke coming out of his mouth and nose, though the smell of it choked me like invisible hands reaching down my throat.
“Why do you smoke then, grandpa? Do you like feeling dizzy?” I looked at him, trying to find some common ground.
“Ezra, I don’t feel a thing when I smoke now. There’s no pleasure in this any more. But when I don’t have a pack of cigarettes every day, I feel bad. I will start to shiver, uncontrollably.”
I didn’t understand him until I started smoking myself.
“The world is a big cage Ezra, no one can escape. Not you, not me, not no one.” He always said so after finishing a cigarette. Back then I almost forced myself to believe in him, but that never worked out. At that age I wondered how hard could it be? Being free? When I finished my first cigarette I finally found credence in Abe’s words. My grandpa always had a point.
Abe named me Ezra, same name as my father. I didn’t like having a male name as a girl, but Abe loved it. “It’s for the honor of your father”, he insisted. He told me my father was a heroic soldier, a fighter for our country, someone who can’t be surpassed.
“We wouldn’t be here without him, Ezra. Remember him. He got my spirit, but his mother’s features. His eyes were like stars. I remember his eyes. So bright, full of hope. He didn’t look like me, no he didn’t. He was taller, paler... Oh damn it, I almost forgot what he looked like. He was a good kid, your father. You ought to be like him, you have to.”
When he finished his affectionate reminiscing, Abe would start to clap his eyes on me in an assessing way, from head to toe. Then he’d give me a disappointed and defeated look. “What am I thinking? Uhg. You don’t even look like him. Isn’t that sad? You don’t have him in you. You are just a girl. Useless.”
He never told me anything about my mother, or how my father passed away. I was forbidden to ask about these stories. Sometimes he talked, and I listened quietly. All I knew was that he raised me, and he was all I had.
I was 16 that year; I had short spiky hair and had never put a dress on. Before then, it never crossed my mind that I would long for pretty shoes and shining cheap nail polish. For the first time in my life I wanted what other girls already had. Abe thought it was weak of me to be tempted by vanity, and he rejected my plea to wear my hair long. I was 16, the year when I started to question my life, when I began to feel sad and helpless around Abe, when Abe started drinking bottle after bottle and cursing me afterwards.
Half of the days, Abe was drunk. He’d clenched his fists after finishing a bottle, continually pounding on the table. The loud noise scared me, but it also woke me up from nightmares. I’d secretly go and check up on him in the front yard. Under the stars, I noticed that his beard had all gone white, and his hunched back made him look even shorter than he was. Abe’s wrinkled red face had always caused him ridicule in the village. Wherever he went, people laughed at the color of his face, calling him the Qiong Qi, a dreaded-human-eating monster in Chinese mythology. The alcohol had stained his face even more. He broke several bottles a night, tossing them in the air or throwing them to the ground. After that he’d pass out, head on the table, snoring into the night. I waited until he slept and covered his body with a blanket before I returned to bed. I didn’t pray for him any more, but in the morning I would pick up the broken glass to make sure there were no pieces of danger left before he woke.
I didn’t know the reason for all these changes that I had to face. Although he never said it, I was once so sure that Abe loved me. He loved me dearly as his own kid, just as he loved my father, so I loved him in return. I gave him all my trust and integrity. I didn’t care that he dressed me like a boy, that he gave me the name of a boy, that he prevented me from being a girl. That was what he wanted, so I gave it to him. It was Abe and me. Nothing else seemed realistic.
The older I grew, the more despondent Abe became. He was like a lonely castaway on the open sea, losing hope bit by bit. A man who knew that his deepest desires simply would not happen. He was tired and angry constantly, though sometimes he was genuinely remorseful. I was afraid and desperate. The way he tore our life apart made my dreams die like a shooting star. The happiness in our life was eventually gone. My longings like tiny bubbles popping in the air, never expanding.
It was painful, too much to bear really. Soon enough I stopped looking for condolence in him. A new desire grew inside me, urging me to find a way out.
Ton said he had been noticing me for a long time before we first talked. As I lay there on his bed, I watched him slowly button up his shirt. He had a masculine body with beautifully tanned skin. His hair, thick and black, perfectly matched his straight nose and deep eyes. When he spoke, his lashes fluttered above his parted lips, losing me in his words. There was some kind of pride in him, some kind of equanimity that drew me to him. He always seemed certain of himself and never rushed anything, so self-assured that his mere presence made me feel safe.
When I lay beside him, I got the same feeling as when I was in Abe’s arms. Being in love with him made life so much clearer. I could see our future together. We were going to get married. He was going to work by day and I would stay at home looking after our kids, cleaning the house, and preparing a meal for him when he came back. We would walk on the farm when we grew old. By then both of us would be gray, but we would still be holding hands, watching the sun set over the horizon. I knew he was the one — the one that was going to fill the cracks in my life. I loved our secret dates behind the high walls of his house. I would knock on his door three times successively, then slowly knock for another two. When he opened the door, he’d gently take my hand and lead me in.
I remembered when he asked me to love him back. I could see my own reflection in his eyes as he said “I love you, will you love me back?” How direct he was. How pure and innocent. Unlike mine, Ton’s name had its own special meaning — to stand upon the open field. I pictured the man in front of me, strong, fearless, working in the field for our children. Nothing ever surpassed that excitement for me. He was 10 years older than me. A mature man, a capable man. I hoped that he would save me from my chaotic life.
When Ton was fully dressed, he lowered himself to me, pecked me, and put his hand through my hair.
“You know, a woman could hide all her secrets in her hair. Secrets that only she could unveil. But I can see yours, Ezra. I see through your eyes, to your soul, and I see wh—”
“Stop it, my love. I am plain as paper. I hide nothing.”
“Of course my lady. That’s why I love you Ez. You never lie to your man.” He paused. “Did you cut it yourself? Your hair?”
Ton’s glance lingered on me. I could imagine his fingers swimming through my hair, gently, slowly, passionately. For a moment I forgot myself, as if all the rules and discipline Abe inflicted upon me were just a dream. It was just that instant, I wanted him to think of me as special. My instincts told me to disguise the truth, to hide my craving for a normal hairstyle. And so, I answered. “Yes. All my by myself.”
“I admire that. Your courage.” He said to me.
“And? You like it?”
“Of course. Ez, but don’t take me wrong. I just think it’ll be wonderful if you could have a look. You would look lovely with long hair. Or maybe I’m just curious. Would you forgive me? I am nothing but human, I do get curious.” Ton grinned.
“I won’t cut it next time. I promise.” I’d never felt more uncertain of my words.
At first, I managed to keep it looking short in front of Abe. After 6 months, when I was able to braid it, I’d wake up 30 minutes early to hide my hair using an old Jasper cap that Abe once bought me. Abe was actually delighted to see me wearing it. He said my father would be proud.
When I went to Ton’s place, I was ecstatic to show him even the slightest change. He witnessed every stage of it becoming longer. As his hands shuttled back and forth in my hair, he told me about life in the city. “I wish I could live with you, Ezra. I’ll comb your hair in the morning, dry your hair by night on our bed. We’ll live in an apartment in a tall building. All you need to do is take care of our home. I’ll buy you things. The high-end stuff. You deserve it. You are my princess.” There, I lost myself again in his descriptions of the cars and streets, the lights and shops. I had never seen a car in my life, but in his arms, all the novel things seemed so vivid and familiar. I felt like I could peek through his memory and his visions. I thought I was becoming a part of him and that we would never separate.
Abe didn’t even notice how long my hair had gotten. One night, after a bottle of beer, he suddenly realized that he hadn’t fixed my hair for long.
“Ezra.” I could hear him calling my name with impatience, wanting to finish the task quickly. I hid myself in the room, pretending to be asleep.
His bellow was fueled by the alcohol. Every time he called, I could feel the scissors getting closer.
When he did it, I didn’t make a sound even though my eyes were wet and my heart ached. In that moment I just wanted to get away, as far away as possible. There was no begging. Not even a word was spoken. There was just silence. Something in my heart finally broke. My hope for Abe had burnt into ashes. He wanted me for a shadow of my father; I loved him for just him. This was all I needed to realize.
Ton had turned 27. It was a small village. The whole year people gossiped, and even Abe was not drunk enough to miss the hearsay. He asked me to move to the wing-room where there was no
window. Sometimes he locked me inside the darkness the whole day. “I’ve been hearing things Ezra. It’s not safe for you out there. Believe me, it’s for the best.” He’d always say as I heard the lock clicking. But nothing stopped us, Ton found his way to me even when I was imprisoned. He asked me to run away with him to Shanghai. The war had been over for a few years, and young people were all flooding to the cities in search of new opportunities. Ton told me he would get a job at The Paramount, where stars were born. In my head, Ton’s voice was still echoing: I wish I could live with you in the city, Ezra. I’ll comb your hair in the morning, dry your hair by night on our bed. We’ll live in an apartment in a tall building. I was determined to go with him.
We started preparing for our flight. Ton bought me a suitcase. I had nowhere to hide it but to leave it at his place. I chose the things I wanted to bring and secretly gave them to Ton day by day as Abe grew suspicious of me.
On the night of our last dinner, Abe put a cudgel on the table. He stared at me. The chopsticks in his hand stayed still. This dead, uneasy silence was the way he began his interrogation. It was I who broke the silence.
“I’m leaving you. Ton’s taking me to Shanghai.”
“You are not going anywhere.” Abe said impassively. He pretended to be calm for a few seconds, but then he suddenly stood up while raising the cudgel and pointing it towards me. I could see the bulging veins in his forehead; his eyes were red and wet.
“When that woman showed up at my door. You were dying. Your lips were pale, your eyes were darken. I should’ve let you die. That woman made my son leave me. He wouldn’t have died if he stayed. I hated her, and you were her child. But you were so little. Your eyes were begging for me, your little hands grabbed my thumb, wouldn’t let go. I was stupid. I took you in when she ditched you. I give you food. I provide you shelter. I protect you. It was I who raised you! I made you. Without me, you are nothing, nobody. I am the only one who gives a damn about you. So you are not leaving with him. I’ll not allow it even if I have to break your legs.”
“Why do you hate me? Have I ever harmed you? Abe? Have I not loved you enough? But you have never had compassion for me. Never! I’ve been trying. I tried, but I can’t be around you any more. I am leaving, and you can’t s —”
The cudgel fell to the ground, Abe’s palm had left a scarlet mark on my cheek. My head felt dizzy. Abe looked astonished, his body collapsed to the ground.
“Ezra, it’s not safe out there. He doesn’t love you. Don’t do what your father did to me. I can’t —why don’t you believe me?”
I had never seen him like this, like a helpless child. His voice shook. It sounded soft and tender, like the way he used to read to me when I was little.
“Grandpa.” Tears were filling my eyes, and for a moment my ironclad resolve to leave wavered.
Abe’s gaze rested on me for the last time, and then he turned his head. “You know, you really looked like him when you were little. Not any more. Now you look like her, and I loath it. ”
I looked at him, words choking in my throat. I told myself it was the end of our story, but at the same time I felt like he had imprisoned my soul. I would never know happiness again, even with Ton.
In Shanghai, my insignificance was magnified. The life Ton promised me was never fulfilled. He was a waiter at the Paramount, and his earnings could only support us to live in the windowless garage of a ramshackle building. It only had a bed and a dim lamp. I spent my whole day waiting for Ton in the garage, making his bed, folding his cloth, cleaning our home. But he was always dissatisfied, he found faults in everything I did. It almost felt like he was blaming me, trying to punish me for our dilemma.
New Years Eve came two months into our stay. Ton seemed depressed that night. At dinner, he took me in his arms. I could hear his heartbeats.
“I have something important to tell you.”
He held my hand very tightly at first but gradually his hold loosened. “Ezra, I’m leaving here. This city, it’s impossible for people like us. But I can’t take you with me. I’m getting married.”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered as I let go of his hand. “My mother is sick. She needs me back. ”
“Do you still love me?” I uttered, leaning in closer. I wondered if he was just trying to leave me. He didn’t reply; his hand stroked a soothing rhythm on my back.
“I told the manager you could sing. You should meet him tomorrow.” Ton saw the look in my eyes, saw what I was clearly thinking about. “My mother chose her when we were still kids. She likes her, so will I. Ezra, you can never go back there after all this. I don’t have a choice.”
I couldn’t go back because I was a shameless woman, but Ton was a man. He was forgivable.
I was amazed by how life had shaped me into a numb walking corpse. The next thing I knew, I was singing. I was 18 then. I remembered seeing the officers, merchants and their mistresses. I felt like I was singing from the other end of the world. For seven years I sang, first as the vocal accompaniment, then solo. People became familiar with my name, and my face attained a small piece of fame. Miss Lark was what they called me now.
My driver was sick that night. The manager sent a man to run a rickshaw for me. The man was waiting just outside. It was late. The Paramount’s flaming light covered his body. I was wearing a large hat, its grenadine obscuring my face. His figure wasn’t much as a strong man. He looked short and feeble, the bald head reflecting the light, his hunched back tilted his red face toward me. It was the first in a long time that I saw this face. My heart pounded inside my chest again, and my eyes flooded with tears. He was exactly as I had remembered, but he had lost his color. He was like the petal of a withered flower, looking so tame in the lonely street.
“Miss. Lark, I’ve been waiting for you.” He didn’t seem to recognize me. His eyesight had worsened over the years. I could hardly see my Abe in the man in front of me now. I wondered what had happened to him. Had he been hurt by the arrogant rich kids? How much rudeness did he bear? Was he in good health? I had so many questions dangling in my head, but when I opened my mouth to make a sound, I hesitated. I glimpsed his worn-out clothes. I was shocked.
“Miss Lark, please don’t worry. I know I don’t appear as strong as the boys, but I can still run the rickshaw for you. It’s my great fortune to carry a worthy lady like you.”
“It’s dark. Can you see clearly?”
“Yes— I can see the road clearly. Miss. Lark.”
“I’ve been told that you have been working for The Paramount for years?” I asked as I got on the rickshaw. “You speak the dialect?”
“I can’t. I wasn’t born here. I came here seven years ago, and my head’s not made to learn.”
Abe’s voice was plain and low. It almost felt like he was afraid of me.
“Why did you come then? ”
“I have sins, Miss. I’ve made mistakes. Terrible ones. I lost someone important to me. I thought if I came here, maybe I could have a chance to find her, make it up to her.”
“This person, you miss her?” My eyes were wet.
“I love her dearly. She was the joy of my life. I remembered her eyes were so bright, full of hope.” Abe looked up to all the stars above, “She’s a star to me. My life was chaotic, muddled before her - but she didn’t know. She didn’t know how precious she was to me.”
“Have you found her?” I asked tentatively. “What are you going to do next?”
The rickshaw stopped before my house. I wished time would stop just there. “We’ve arrived Ms Lark.” Abe didn’t look at me. He moved his gaze from the ground to the sky again. He sighed slowly, his breath condensing into a wisp of white mist in the air. I was stepping out of the rickshaw when I heard his coarse voice sound behind my back.
“She’s shinning. I guess she’s happier now. I am proud of her. You do know that, right? She makes me proud.”
I looked back. I saw Abe’s cloudy eyes glisten through tears. He was about to say something, but then started to bite his lips.
“I know. I do.”
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