‘The Kempeitei hounded him day and night. We fled to Shanghai when I was six and Ivanov enrolled me for kung fu classes. We became friends with Master Wu and moved next door to the academy. The Japanese left him alone for the next six years but they must have been keeping an eye on him.
‘About six months ago, we all went to see a kung fu exhibition at the Lyceum Theatre. Afterwards Ivanov was on the street looking for rickshaws to take us home. The three of us were playing hide-and-seek nearby. Suddenly there were two rough-looking men jostling Ivanov. One of them took out a revolver and ordered Ivanov, in Russian, to raise his hands above his head. We were desperate when I saw a water hose that was still connected to a water hydrant. The Russians were questioning Ivanov and not paying attention to us so I blasted them with the hose from the fire hydrant. David launched a flying kick at the man holding the gun and Sam threw a bottle at the other man’s head. The gun flew into the air and I leapt to catch it. Then I ordered them to lie face down…’
‘Do you speak Russian as well as English and Chinese?’ I asked, terribly impressed.
‘Marat and Ivanov can speak lots of languages,’ Sam said. ‘They also speak Japanese and French!’
‘As Marat was saying,’ David interrupted, ‘that was probably our most successful kung fu mission. None of us could believe it when the two Russians obeyed Marat. While they were lying down we ran away and threw the gun in a rubbish bin. Afterwards we discovered that we had strayed north by mistake into Japanese-occupied territory. At that time, the Japanese still respected the boundaries of the International Settlement and the French Concession. They didn’t bother Ivanov again until months later.’
‘Where is Ivanov now? Why don’t you live with him?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know where he is,’ Marat answered sadly. ‘The Kempeitei came for him in the middle of the night last seven December, and took him away. I haven’t seen him since.’
‘Seven December again!’ I said, turning to David. ‘Pearl Harbor Day! Isn’t that the day when the Japanese killed your parents? Why did everything bad happen on that day?’
‘Because that’s the day Japan declared war on Britain and America,’ David replied. ‘As well as bombing Pearl Harbor that day, the Japanese also took over the International Settlement of Shanghai, the part that used to belong to the British. From then on, the Japanese could do whatever they wanted to people they didn’t like throughout Shanghai. People like my parents and Ivanov.’
‘The story isn’t over yet,’ said Marat, obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘David forgot to tell you about us going to Nan Tian Island afterwards and the dolphin we befriended there.’
‘That’s right!’ David said. ‘My parents were still alive then. After I got home from the Lyceum Theatre and told them about the Russians, they started worrying about the Japanese coming after us. So they persuaded Grandma Wu and Ivanov to take us to Nan Tian for the summer…’
At that moment, Grandma Wu walked in from the garden with fresh ginger, spinach leaves and coriander, which she washed and added to the soup. Marat’s story had shaken me, but as we waited for the soup to cook, I turned to David, still hungry for answers.
‘Tell me about the dolphin at Nan Tian. How did you befriend her?’
‘Marat and I were out at sea one day,’ said David. ‘We were snorkelling when a big dolphin swam towards us. At first we were scared and climbed back into the boat. But instead of going away, the dolphin kept circling the boat and making clicking sounds. Then we noticed a big fish hook embedded in her body between her head and dorsal fin. A bit of fishing line was still attached.
‘We didn’t know what to do and were worried about sharks. But the dolphin was asking us for help. We rowed and paddled until we reached the shore. I knew something had to be done. I found my knife and tried to calm the dolphin down by stroking her…’
‘What did her skin feel like?’ I interrupted.
‘It was smooth and tight, like a big wet rubber ball, and she was trembling all over. The fish hook was stuck inside her back. I had to plunge my knife into the wound and cut into the muscle to get it out. There was so much blood that I had to stuff my jacket against the wound to stop the flow. I counted to a hundred until the oozing stopped altogether.’
I was entranced by the story. ‘Where’s the dolphin now? Is she still near Nan Tian?’
‘She comes and goes as she pleases,’ said Marat. ‘But David and I spent the whole of last summer playing with her. She‘d appear whenever we went out on a boat, following us like a dog. We named her Ling Ling and knew it was the same dolphin because of the scar on her back. You‘ll have to meet her one day, CC.’
‘I feel useless!’ I said. ‘All of you know so much! I‘ve never seen a real dolphin, and don’t even know how to swim! I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help the society.’
Grandma Wu must have overheard because she said, ‘You can help, CC, in many ways. Everyone is different. David is a fast thinker, Marat is a planner, Sam is intuitive. You, CC, are creative and have a love of words. Do you like to read?’
‘Yes!’ I exclaimed. ‘I love to read. How did you know?’
‘Because you have a book in your hands whenever I see you. What are you reading now?’
‘It’s a recipe book I took from the shelf here,’ I said, blushing. ‘I want to learn how to cook.’
‘How about writing something for my Sunday newsletter? Don’t look so surprised. We have Sunday school at my academy every week with almost one hundred students.’
‘I’d love to! Oh, thank you, Grandma Wu!’ I felt so lucky to have this chance to write about anything I wished. There were things I could say with a pen that were impossible to express out loud.
After lunch, Grandma Wu announced that she was going to give us a sewing lesson. The boys rolled their eyes and groaned with dismay.
‘This is as important as your kung fu practice!’ said Grandma Wu sternly. ‘You need to be prepared. When you are on a mission, you will need clothes to keep you invisible.’ She rolled out some black material and we spent the rest of the day sewing outfits with many pockets to conceal items like maps, money, food and water bottles. There were four special buttons, one for each of us. They looked like ordinary buttons and resembled the others, but each was really a tiny compass.
That night I dreamt that I was back home again. Big Aunt lived with us and everything was wonderful. I was no longer an only child, but had three older brothers who played lots of games with me. As we played, I knew they cared for me just as much as I cared for them – we were a team. But I kept losing because they were more athletic and brainy. I knew I couldn’t compete. Big Aunt put her arms around me and said, ‘Learn from your brothers and be proud of them! Brothers and sisters should be like shou zu (), hands and feet on the same body.’
I woke up in a sweat, desperate to go back to my magnificent dream. I wanted to hold on to it but it was gone. At that moment, I missed my aunt unbearably. I wondered if she was dreaming about me at the same instant I was dreaming about her.
By nine o’clock the next morning, Grandma Wu’s studio was full of children, ranging in age from seven to fourteen, with many more boys than girls. I looked around anxiously, wondering if there was anyone I knew. It would have been highly embarrassing to meet any of my schoolmates or friends. I stayed close to the three boys and sneaked glances at the children, who all looked well-dressed and prosperous.
‘Where do these students come from?’ I asked Sam, who was standing next to me.
‘These are all fee-paying students whose parents want them to learn kung fu and Chinese studies on Sundays,’ Sam whispered. ‘Most of them go to missionary schools during the week, where lessons are taught in English, French or German. There used to be more students enrolled for Sunday school, but many have moved to Chungking.’
Grandma Wu organized various kung fu drills. Then we split into groups for calligraphy, word recognition, brush-painting, history of proverb
s and Confucian classics. Just before school ended, she announced that there was to be a special demonstration that day: a match between David Black and Johnny Chen, the fourteen-year-old junior boxing champion of Shanghai. David would use kung fu to defend himself against Johnny’s fists.
We all crowded around the sandpit, where David and Johnny stood laughing and joking. The parents, too. My hands were wet from nerves when Grandma Wu blew her whistle for the match to begin.
I was worried for David because Johnny was so much taller and heavier. But as in the story of David and Goliath, David stood his ground, breathing slowly and calmly through his nose. Johnny, meanwhile, paced around the pit with his mouth half-open, flexing his muscles and clenching his fists.
As soon as Grandma Wu blew her whistle a second time to start the fight, Johnny rushed at David like a tiger pouncing on a lamb. Just before the impact, David turned so smoothly in a circular motion that Johnny’s heavy frame simply crashed on to the sand. Wham!
David seemed to grow taller and more luminous before our very eyes. Johnny picked himself up and charged again. No sooner did he touch David than Johnny was flipped on to the sand a second time! Wham! David’s moves possessed a rhythm so fluid that the air itself appeared to crackle. Speed and power exploded from somewhere deep in his body, spreading itself in sizzling waves not only over Johnny, but the entire audience as well.
This must be kung fu in its purest form! I trembled. Every cell in my body yearned to be able to glide through the air just as David had done.
Wham! Wham! Johnny was thrown two more times. David must have touched Johnny before hurling him to the ground, but his moves were so quick that all I saw was the end result of Johnny sprawled on the sand.
A buzz went through the crowd as Johnny picked himself up and shook hands with David to signal that the fight was over.
‘That was a classic demonstration of Wu Song’s “Step back and ride the tiger”,’ Marat murmured.
‘No wonder you call him “Black Whirlwind”!’ I said proudly.
Someone shouted, ‘Speech! Speech!’ but David declined with a smile. Instead, Johnny stepped on to a stone bench and took the speaker cone in his hand.
‘I couldn’t believe it at first and thought I’d slipped when I tried to hit David,’ Johnny began. ‘But his muscles are like iron wrapped in cotton wool. A blow from him was like being shoved by a cannonball. When I tried to retaliate, I kept hitting air. It was like trying to capture the wind or hit a shadow. Is he for real or is he supernatural?’
The cheering went on and on. Everyone was charmed by Johnny’s generous words. Buoyed by the warm feelings he had generated all around, Johnny raised the loudspeaker once more. ‘This morning I learned two new proverbs. The first is chu shen ru hua (), uncanny skill that’s almost supernatural. The second is suo xiang wu di (), irresistible force that is unconquerable. Both describe David’s kung fu skills. I predict that he will grow up to be a great warrior! What a glorious day it will be for China when people like David finally lead us to the freedom and independence our country deserves!’
A gasp rippled through the crowd. The grownups looked at each other, many peering around fearfully for Japanese sympathizers. I wondered if Johnny was going to be arrested on the spot for making seditious public statements! Instead, a stout, middle-aged Chinese woman, dressed in a silk qipao, pushed her way through the crowd and approached Johnny’s bench.
‘Come down at once!’ she ordered sternly. ‘Time to go home!’
Afterwards, I begged Grandma Wu to teach me kung fu. I told her I wanted to fight like David.
‘Do you know that the words kung fu () actually mean “mastery of a difficult task” – any difficult task?’ Grandma Wu said. ‘What you’re really asking to learn is wu shu (), martial arts, which has a long tradition in China, going back over two thousand years. The martial arts we practise here at the academy were brought into China from India fourteen hundred years ago by a monk called Bodhidharma. He settled at the Shaolin Temple in Henan province and developed a series of physical exercises to keep fit between bouts of meditation. These exercises are known as Shaolin temple-boxing.
‘Chinese martial arts are also influenced by Taoism and the forces of yin and yang. Yin () represents female energy: that which is negative, dark and cool. Yang (), on the other hand, represents male energy: that which is positive, bright and warm. The two forces regulate the universe.
‘The emblem of our society is the symbol of yin and yang. Let me draw it for you.
Diagram of the Great Ultimate Tai-ji Tu
As you can see, the two fish together form a perfect circle. There is a little yin in every yang and a little yang in every yin.’
‘I just want to be able to defend myself, Grandma Wu,’ I told her.
‘But first you must understand the principles underlying martial arts,’ Grandma Wu said firmly. ‘Let me tell you a story. Eight hundred years ago during the Yuan dynasty, a Taoist priest saw a bird and a snake fighting outside his window. He noticed how both animals alternated soft, yielding movements with hard, quick strikes. From these observations, he developed t’ai chi quan (), shadow-boxing. The initial movements of t’ai chi are soft and relaxed to allow you to flow with your opponent’s strength until you find an opening. Then you surprise him by striking with a sudden, hard force. That was how David defeated Johnny.
‘To be a kung fu expert, you must first be in good physical and mental health. Without basic fitness, you can’t even tumble or break your fall to protect yourself, let alone launch an effective attack.
‘Mentally, you must respect your teacher, pay attention during training, cultivate your patience, do your exercises conscientiously, and persevere until you achieve your goal.’
‘How do I begin?’ I asked, my head spinning.
‘I’ll teach you some basic moves. Promise me that you’ll practise them every day. We’ll work on stretching first, so you can maintain your balance. One day, your movements will be as fast and powerful as David’s today. Only then can you claim to know kung fu.
‘Watch me now!’ instructed Grandma Wu.
Grandma Wu went over the exercises for each day. She showed me how to stretch, meditate and do t’ai chi. This was to be followed by 150 press-ups, side-bends, sit-ups, squats, dumb-bell circles and 100 jumping jacks using a rope. Finally, she said, ‘The whole regime will take at least two hours. We’ll measure your body weekly and you’ll soon develop into a true martial artist. Eventually, if you persevere, you might even become a kung fu expert. This is something that I do every morning as part of my warm-up exercises.’
She lay face down on the ground and started doing press-ups. At first she used two hands, then one hand, then three fingers of one hand. She ended her demonstration with 100 press-ups in rapid succession with her arms fully extended, using only her thumbs.
As I watched her with mounting respect, I remembered the proverb Johnny had used to describe David earlier. And I knew with certainty that David’s chu shen ru hua had been inspired by her.
7
Poster from Marat’s Big Brother
Although I had been living at the academy for only three days, my life had changed radically. So I was shocked when Grandma Wu gave me my tram fare the next morning and told me to go to school as usual. How could I go back to my old life? What if Father sent someone to the school to find me? Now I really felt like Cinderella returning to her rags after being at the ball.
But my fears were unfounded. Father didn’t come to school and my classmates didn’t notice anything different about me. I sat next to my best friend, Wu Chun-mei, as usual, and we played ping-pong at lunch break. In our English class, Teacher Lin told us to write about what we liked doing best and why. I wrote about writing, how I loved it more than anything else. When I wrote, I could be anyone I wanted to be. I could solve problems or change people’s behaviour any way I wished – the way I couldn’t in real life.
After school, it was strange to get on a
different tram from the one I usually took. When I returned to the academy after school, I found Grandma Wu, David and Sam sitting around the kitchen table. Marat was holding a mailing tube.
I threw my bag down and joined them. Marat was trembling.
‘Sit down, CC,’ said Grandma Wu. ‘Something miraculous has happened. You know about Ivanov, Marat’s big brother? When the Japanese arrested him two months ago we thought they might have killed him. Now this tube has arrived, addressed to me, in Ivanov’s handwriting!’
I nodded, remembering what Marat had told me about Ivanov, and how the Japanese had hated him since he solved his friend Simon Kaske’s murder in Harbin.
Marat’s face fell as he opened the tube. There was no letter, only a colourful poster with a picture of a large clock, its hands set to twelve o’clock. The poster proclaimed that all clocks in Japanese-occupied China must henceforth be set to Tokyo time. ‘When it is twelve o’clock in Tokyo,’ the words said, ‘it is twelve o’clock everywhere in China. Those who disobey will be severely punished.’ The poster was printed by the New Order of East Asia in Shanghai and had been sent on behalf of the Japanese Imperial Army.
We were speechless. Then Sam spoke up: ‘Why would Ivanov send us something like this?’
‘The proclamation is in five languages,’ Marat mused, raking his fingers through his hair. ‘Only the top line is in Chinese. Then there are Japanese, English, French and Russian versions. Ivanov is fluent in all these languages. Maybe he’s translating for die Japanese and was told to send these posters to the public. Perhaps this is his way of telling us that he’s alive.’
‘I have an idea,’ Grandma Wu interrupted. She unrolled the poster and placed it face down on the table. Then she fetched an electric iron and plugged it in.
‘What are you doing?’ Marat asked.