David’s face was flushed.
‘I don’t know what I would have done without Grandma Wu. She took me in, fed me, looked after me. There were days when I just wanted to die.’
We were silent for a while. I tried to imagine seeing my mother beaten and my father shot before my eyes, and how I would feel.
‘For a long time, GG, I couldn’t talk about it at all. The strange thing is… now that I’ve told you, I feel better. I don’t know why but I definitely feel better.’
David added soya sauce, wine, cornflour and sugar to a big bowl of minced chicken to make filling for the dumplings.
‘Were Marat and Sam already here when Grandma Wu took you in?’ I asked.
‘I knew them from school, but Sam has lived here since he arrived from Germany three and a half years ago. Marat and I moved here on the same day: 8 December 1941…’
‘Before today I didn’t know Sam came from Germany. Is he German?’
‘Well, you’ve seen his armband — the Japanese certainly consider him to be German!’
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Sam, coming in from the garden with Marat, laden with vegetables for dinner. They proceeded to wash and chop the scallions, ginger and chives.
‘I wanted to know if you’re German, Sam,’ I said, conscious of the touchiness of my question and not wishing to offend him.
‘Nationality is a tricky question.’ Sam’s voice was bitter. ‘Am I German? Am I Jewish? Am I Chinese? I hardly know what I am any more!’
There was an awkward pause. David added the chopped vegetables to the filling and sprinkled a little salt. The four of us sat around the kitchen table and began to make dumplings.
To break the silence, I asked Sam, ‘What’s your animal sign?’
‘The s-snake!’ Sam said, hissing and smiling at the same time.
‘That means you are a year older than I am because I was born in the year of the horse,’ I noted, remembering Big Aunt’s astrological chart. ‘Snake people are deep thinkers, full of wisdom…’
‘That’s why Sam’s nickname is the “All-Knowing One”!’ Marat declared. ‘Do not underestimate Sam just because he’s small. He may seem unassuming but he’s really, really brainy. Sam tops the class year after year.’
‘Do they really call you the “All-Knowing One”?’ I enquired, greatly impressed.
‘That’s what they call me at the Shanghai International School,’ Sam replied. ‘But a name doesn’t mean anything! Back home in Berlin, my nickname used to be “Foetus”. Same boy, different name!’
‘You never told me that!’ David was shocked. ‘Why did they call you “Foetus”?’
‘Just to be mean. Sometimes they’d call me “Embryo”. I’ve always been small and never had much hair. For a long time, I didn’t know I was Jewish. I thought I was German, just like everyone else.’
‘You were probably the smartest one in your class,’ David said. ‘Just as you are here in Shanghai. A lot of people get jealous of that.’
‘I have no idea,’ Sam shrugged. ‘It’s true that I sat in the front row with all the other smart kids. Everything was fine until second grade.’
‘What year was that?’ David asked.
‘Year of the rat! 1936. Why do you ask?’ Sam said.
‘Because there is a Jewish boy called Stanley in my class, who is also from Germany. Stanley told me his parents and grandparents were all killed by the Nazis on 9 November 1938, because they were Jews. Stanley takes 9 November off every year and goes to pray in the synagogue.’
Sam looked grim. ‘Krystallnacht,’ he said. ‘I’ll come to that later. When I was in the second grade, a teacher said one day that Christianity is the only true religion. I challenged her and asked about other religions like Buddhism and Judaism. Then she asked if I was Jewish.
‘I told her my father was Jewish and my mother Chinese, not knowing that the answer would change my life.
‘From that moment on, the teacher made me wear a Star of David on my shirt to show that I was Jewish and different. My best friend, Boris, would no longer play with me. If anyone spoke to me at all it was to make fun of me. One day, I came into the classroom and Boris was sitting in my seat. He told me to get out of Germany because I didn’t belong. We had a fight and everyone took Boris’s side. Next day, someone pasted a copy of the anti-Jewish newspaper Der Strummer on the blackboard and scrawled “Sam Eisner is a puny Jewish alien and a half-caste embryo” next to it. When I protested to our teacher, she said, “Isn’t that what you are?” ’
Sam paused and looked down at his feet. I felt a tightness in my throat. Then I saw that all three boys had clenched their fists. They looked angry and sad at the same time.
‘The other day I was wondering why I like it here so much,’ I said, wanting to make Sam feel better. ‘Now I think it’s because you make me feel so welcome! What Sam said just now… about being beaten and insulted… I know what it’s like because that’s how they treated me at home…’
‘The insults weren’t as bad as the jokes!’ Sam continued bitterly. ‘What I hated most was when everyone laughed at me. I remember the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach when I went to school each morning, wondering what awful prank my classmates were going to pull next. Then, on 9 November 1938, the Gestapo came in the middle of the night and took Papa away. That night is called Krystallnacht, the night of shattered glass. That was when the Nazis broke into Jewish homes and smashed the windows of Jewish stores in the cities throughout Germany. All night long, I kept hearing screams, yells and the sounds of breaking glass. I almost choked on the smoke of all the buildings burning. It was terrifying. The next morning, my mother told me we had to leave Germany for Shanghai. She said Shanghai was the only city left in the world that would accept a Jewish boy like me.’
‘Why did your mother say that?’ I asked.
‘Because Shanghai is an open city. Anyone can enter without a visa. Even Jews. My mother’s father had disowned her when she’d married my father, a German Jew. She knew the score. Her own father discriminated against Jews. So did the Nazis.’
‘How did your parents meet?’ I wondered out loud.
‘My grandfather was a diplomat in the Chinese Embassy in Berlin. My father used to go to the embassy and give my mother German lessons.’ Sam placed a tablespoonful of filling in the centre of a disc of dough, wet the edge with water and folded it absent-mindedly into another half-moon-shaped dumpling. I looked at the rows of dumplings that we had made. They were about the same size but of four different shapes. It was as if we had each signed our name across our own dumplings while making them.
‘How on earth did you get to Shanghai from Berlin?’ I asked.
‘My mother still had her Chinese passport. She sold her jewels and bought tickets on the Italian ship Conte Biancamano. There were lots of Jews fleeing to Shanghai on that ship. But when we arrived, nobody from my mother’s family was there to meet us. The only person who came to the dock was Grandma Wu, who used to be my mother’s private teacher when she was little. That how I first met her. Grandma Wu took us to the academy but then my mother got sick. The journey had taken everything out of her. She started coughing and couldn’t breathe, so Grandma Wu rushed her to hospital.
‘I remember visiting her in the hospital with Grandma Wu. Even though she could hardly talk, Mama insisted that I write down the recipes of all of my favourite dishes so I could cook them myself if anything happened to her. After a while she closed her eyes and told me that my legacy was under her pillow. Those were her last words.
‘This was under her pillow.’
Sam held up a piece of yellow silk. He unfolded it as we crowded around to look. His mother had used red thread to embroider a message:
You are German, Jewish and Chinese, all at the same time. You are special.
You are in China at this moment in history for a reason. You are here to make a difference. The future belongs to you.
Should anyone insult you or call you
a za zhong, tell yourself this: I am a child of destiny who will unite East and West and change the world.
Believe in yourself! Believe in your dreams! Wherever I go, I will always believe in you.
10
Yi Fing: The Book of Magic
In the alcove that night after our dumpling dinner, Grandma Wu handed each of us a red candle in a bamboo basket. Again, she sat in the middle of the group on a stool, while Master Wu joined the four of us on the floor. She lit her own candle and turned off the lights.
‘It has been a long time since our last meeting,’ she began. ‘But there have been two significant developments recently. Yesterday there was an urgent message from our American allies requesting help on a top-secret assignment. Then today three of you were issued with armbands denoting your nationality as foreigners in Shanghai. This can only mean one thing: the Japanese are identifying all foreigners before sending you to concentration camps.
‘You, CC, need to learn more about the Dragon Society of Wandering Knights. We have training centres throughout China and our task is to select candidates suitable for membership. During the last two months, while we were teaching you kung fu, we have been monitoring your personality, perseverance and commitment. It normally takes at least a year of observation before a child is considered for membership.
‘In your case, we have sped up the process. Matters affecting the security and future of our country need to be dealt with immediately. We are very pleased with the diligent way you have pursued your studies and the rapid progress you have made in kung fu. You have already performed valuable service on behalf of our cause. Since membership is a commitment that will affect your entire life, you should think very carefully before taking the next step. The Dragon Society requires you to take an oath of loyalty for life. Once you become a member, there is no going back.’
I put up my hand.
‘Please put your hand down for the time being,’ said Grandma Wu, gently. ‘Remember you may not speak until your candle is lit. Think back to the first night you were here with us. You asked me to show you how to use the book in the Future Vision Box. I told you then that the time was not right.
‘But now the moment has come! Tonight you must seek the Yi fing’s guidance. The choice you make this evening will affect the rest of your life. You are the one who makes the final decision because it is your future…’
I raised my hand again and kept it raised. This time Grandma Wu did not object. She bent down and lit my candle with hers.
‘Why am I being treated differently from the boys?’
‘Because we need all four of you to carry out a vital but highly dangerous mission right away. Top-security clearance is required for this task. Members only are given this privilege. All non-members will be sent away until our mission is accomplished.’
‘If you send me away, where would I go? Would I have to go back to my parents?’
‘Only if you want to,’ she said. ‘Your aunt has sent us money for your expenses. One of the members of our society will look after you at your aunt’s flat until she comes back from Nan Tian.’
‘But I like it here at the academy,’ I said. ‘I like it here better than anywhere else. Don’t you want me to stay on?’
‘Of course we do! That’s why you’ve been invited to become a member. But you still need to consider carefully the disadvantages as well as the advantages before committing yourself permanently. It’s only fair.
‘As a non-member, you can go anywhere you wish and live in whatever way you choose. Once you become a member, however, the society will demand total loyalty and expect you to abide by our rules. Our missions are dangerous. If they fail, you may need to hide from the Japanese until the war is over. Who knows how long that will be or even who will win? You may be arrested, tortured or worse.’
‘Did the boys also consult the Yi Fing before becoming members?’ I could see their faces in the dim light, and felt David’s gaze on me.
‘Yes, of course! Every child is required to consult the Yi Fing before taking the oath.’
‘Thank you, Grandma Wu. Can I read the Book now?’
She smiled, but shook her head. ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘Consulting the Yi Fing is a serious matter for which you must prepare yourself properly. First I must light everyone’s candles.’
Grandma Wu and Master Wu arranged vases of fresh flowers around the Future Vision Box on the altar table. Then they lit two sticks of incense. The candles flickered mysteriously in the scented, semi-darkened room. We sat cross-legged on the floor in a semi-circle, facing the altar table and the scroll with the words Fu Dao, Tao of Buddha.
‘Let us close our eyes and meditate for twenty minutes,’ Grandma Wu said. ‘Shut out the outside world and let your thoughts go. Concentrate on breathing in and breathing out. Whisper the words Yi Fing with every breath.’
I did as I was told. I kept my mind free, let my thoughts go and concentrated on my breathing. Then I repeated the words Yi Fing to myself. After a few minutes I began to feel calm and peaceful. I saw myself hovering in the infinite stillness of space. Suddenly a bright yellow banner appeared before me, displaying two lines of Chinese characters, beautifully scripted in red ink. The words said: ‘You are in China at this moment in history for a reason. You are here to make a difference. The future belongs to you.’
As if in a dream, I heard a voice saying, ‘This is the end of our meditation. It’s time to leave the alcove.’
I opened my eyes and saw Master Wu and the boys gathering up their cushions. Grandma Wu continued, ‘You, CC, will now go and bathe yourself and wash your hair. Afterwards, put on this robe and come back here.’
She opened the lid of the Future Vision Box and took out the red robe I had seen previously. It was made of silk, with an emblem embroidered on its front and back.
‘The emblem on this Taoist robe is called Tai-ji Tu (), Diagram of the Great Ultimate,’ Grandma Wu said. ‘As you can see, it consists of two fish in a circle. One fish is black with a white dot in it. The other is white with a black dot in it. We Chinese believe that this diagram is a gua (), an emblem of divine guidance and wisdom.
‘The history of philosophy in China began with the Yi Fing. The Yi Fing states that yin and yang are the Tao. Therefore yin and yang are the basis of Chinese thought.
‘The Yi Fing says everything in the world is divided into yin or yang. But yin and yang do not compete with one another. On the contrary, they complement and transform into each other. Darkness is the same as diminished light. Light is the same as diminished darkness. Yin does not exist without yang and yang does not exist without yin. Without night there can be no day. Without black there can be no white.’
She picked up the ancient hat and said, ‘This Confucian Thinking Cap has six sides with the character jiao () printed on each side. The word jiao means “to teach”. It also means “religion” and contains the word xiao (), respect for elders, within it. Education and respect for elders are the basis of Confucian thought. After you bathe, put on the hat and robe. Tie the robe with this long silk belt, which has also been embroidered with the sign of our society.’
Lastly, she handed me a pair of sandals from the box and said, ‘On the top of each Buddhist sandal is the character chart (), zen, which means “deep meditation”. Every reader should wear something Confucian, Taoist and Buddhist while consulting the Yi Fing.’
After taking my bath and washing my hair, I dressed in the special garments. When I returned to the alcove, only Grandma Wu was there.
She spread a fresh, clean mat on the floor for me to sit on, bowed deeply towards the altar and handed me a delicate porcelain teacup filled to the brim with tea.
‘The tricolour glaze on this porcelain cup was fired during the Tang dynasty twelve hundred years ago,’ Grandma Wu said, sitting down next to me. ‘As its name suggests, the glaze consists of three colours: green, amber and yellow. The Dragon Society requires us to perform a traditional ritual known as the tea ceremony be
fore I can show you how to consult the Yi Fing. This teacup has no handle and you must hold it with both hands. Shall we begin?’
I nodded.
‘As teacher and pupil, we need to take alternate sips of tea from the same cup until the cup is empty. While drinking, please pay attention to the! cup and its contents. The concept of “mindfulness” is a basic tenet of our Dragon Society. You must be aware of the consequences of your actions at all times. Please take the first sip.’
The tea was delicious: I could taste jasmine, lemon grass, ginger, coriander and mint. I felt very close to Grandma Wu as we shared the tea from the same cup.
‘Do you like the tea?’ she asked me.
‘This is the best tea I’ve ever tasted.’
Soon enough, the cup was almost empty. Then,1 as I tilted the rim to savour the last few drops, I gave a scream of horror. Lying at the bottom of the cup was the distinct brown shape of a dead cockroach. Instantly, the memory of having drunk the rest of the tea became unbearable. Pointing to the insect, I handed the cup over to Grandma Wu with my other hand and cried out, ‘Look at that! How disgusting!’
To my amazement, Grandma Wu received the cup with both hands and lifted it calmly to her lips, apparently still intent on finishing off the last few drops.
‘I feel sick to my stomach!’ I protested in a voice. ‘How can you drink that? You’re going to be poisoned!’
‘Poisoned? You yourself were saying just now that this was the best tea you’ve ever tasted. Nothing has changed. Why should I be poisoned?’
‘But everything has changed! You didn’t know there was a cockroach in the tea before. Now you know! So how can you go on drinking it?’
‘Before you saw the cockroach, you loved the tea. As soon as you became aware of the insect, you loathed the tea instead. But the tea hasn’t changed. It’s you who have changed. It’s your perception of the tea that has changed. Knowledge of the cockroach’s presence has transformed your attitude completely.