Bride of the Moso Prince

  Lucy Yam

  Bride of the Moso Prince

  Copyright ©2011 by Lucy Yam

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author/publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  First Printing: January, 2011

  Chapter 1

  They were playing hide-and-seek in a labyrinth of ravines.

  She groped in a dense fog, on the rocky road, through the apparitions of trees.

  “Charlene! Darling, where are you hiding? Let’s go home!”

  A whiff of cold mist hit her face. Sharon shuddered and woke. The rumbling of engines and the smell of tobacco and the chattering in a strange accent reminded her that she was in a bus in China, on her mission to rescue her sister Charlene.

  She sat up and opened her eyes. The bus was still in the endless mountains. A gauzy rain shrouded the red azaleas and green pines on the roadside. The man who sat next to her had opened the window while she was dozing off. She could see the powder-like mist drifting in through the tiny space and falling on her lap, dampening her jeans. Selfish pig. She cursed silently, and slid the window close with such a force that the loud click started a couple nodding heads around her, including the man next to her. She glared at him to see what he had to say, but he only closed his eyes to avoid her confrontation. They had been playing the game of open and close window during the entire trip. He was wearing a thick jacket and was probably feeling hot, and would open the window whenever she dozed off. In the U.S. she would be shocked by such ungentlemanly behavior, but in China it’s different, especially in a remote countryside… Oh how could her sister Charlene, who was born and raised in the U.S., get used to the life here? She shouldn’t have allowed her to come at all!

  Sharon sighed as she again leaned back against the seat, and stared at the raining scene outside, feeling exhausted. She hadn’t really rested ever since she had left LA: Fifteen hours of plane, ten hours of train, and now, in the middle of the eight hour bus trip. Charlene was in the back of her mind all the time and whenever she closed her eyes she heard her voice on the phone.

  It was shortly after five in the afternoon and she was in her office at Web Genius working on a website upgrading for Pacific Bank when Charlene called.

  “What’s wrong, sis?” Sharon was instantly alarmed. It was early morning in China and Charlene had never called at this time.

  “Nothing. Just that I don’t know what it is but I can’t seem to get out of bed. My head spins as soon as I try. Has it ever happened to you?”

  Sharon’s hands went cold, “No, it hasn’t. You have to see a doctor. Can you call someone to help you right away?”

  “I did. My hosts are helping. Urcher brought me the village shaman. He said it was some evil spirit I encountered in a neighboring village. And he did some magic dance for me.”

  “Oh dear,” Sharon tried to keep herself calm, but the tone of her voice must have betrayed her.

  Charlene said at once, “Don’t’ worry, Sharon. I’m sure it isn’t a serious problem. I’m fine when I lie down. Besides, they’ll fetch the town doctor for me later.”

  “Later? What about now?”

  “Oh he’s not available now. He sells vegetables in the morning and sees patients in the afternoons.”

  “Oh dear,” Sharon rubbed her temples after Charlene hung up.

  Sharon called her doctor, Dr. Chang’s office, right away, but couldn’t get hold of him. She left a message on his machine and tried to go back to work. But in her heightened state of anxiety she could hardly do anything. All she could think of was that Charlene was her only family. Their mother had died a couple years ago and their father remarried soon after. Besides, Sharon had more or less raised Charlene and couldn’t bear to imagine her sister suffering at all. She had to go to her. And bring her back if she could. It was a mistake to let her go to that backward mountain village.

  When her assistant Jenny, came over to say goodbye, Sharon was booking the midnight flight online.

  “Oh good, Jenny, I’m planning a trip to China and I have a few things to tell you.”

  “What happened?”

  “Charlene is sick.”

  “For how long do you plan to go?”

  “It depends on her condition. Besides, my sister is as stubborn as I am. But it won’t be more than a month since that’s about all the sick leave I have accumulated.”

  “I’m sure it’d be ok with Mr. Yamada if you needed more time.”

  “We’ll see. Oh that reminded me. I have to call and let him know.”

  Sharon was about to dial the number of her boss when Jenny asked again, “What about your project? Should I take over it?”

  “It isn’t necessary. I’ll work on it when I’m away and I’ll find a way to email it to you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  The window was open again. Sharon shot a glance at the man sitting beside her, who smiled at her apologetically.

  “Sorry, carsick.”

  Sharon let him have his way as they had entered a different valley and the sky was clear.

  She gazed at the scenery beyond the mountains. There were patches of blue hidden among the green pines. She knew that it must have been the Lugu Lake, the lake that the place was named after. Shortly after she saw a sign on roadside with a picture of Moso women in bright costumes. A line of bold letters read: Welcome to the Kingdom of Women.

  Yes, Kingdom of Women. That familiar phrase had caused so many worries in her ever since Charlene had mentioned it two years ago. She would do her Ph.D. dissertation on the Moso, an ethnic minority of China, who had a peculiar marriage system called “walking marriage.” Married couples wouldn’t start new households. The man would “walk” to his wife’s house at nights while living with his own family during the days. It was a matrilineal society, so children of a marriage belonged to the wife’s household. Charlene, who studied anthropology at UC Berkeley, was thrilled by her discovery of the Moso of China from an article. She was even more excited when she found out that the Moso were in Sichuan, the province that their parents were from. She had made up her mind when she informed Sharon that she would be going to that mountain area which had just been opened to tourism not long ago, and had barely enough supply of electricity.

  Sharon was devastated. “You don’t know what China is like, sis, even in the cities, the living condition is bad. And we’re talking about a mountain village. When we lived there, there weren’t even indoor bathrooms, not to mention showers, outhouses were horrible, you cannot imagine how they were like…”

  Sharon was hoping to scare her sister, who was very much spoiled in that respect. Charlene had had a hard time sharing an apartment with two other girls when she was getting her undergrad degree at Standford. Her roommates did not have the habit of cleaning up the bathroom after they had showered.

  But Charlene was undaunted by the prospect of visiting outhouses. “I’ll get used to it.” She said, looking like a martyr willing to die for her cause, which was to study the Moso before they were converted by the majority Han.

  Sharon reluctantly turned to their father for help, but he only reminded her that she had been the one who supported Charlene’s decision to major in anthropology when he had insisted she studied business management. He had almost disowned them both when Sharon paid for
Charlene’s tuition and living expenses. How had she lived through the past ten months? Sharon refused to remember. Although Charlene had never complained about the living conditions and had told her vaguely that she was staying at a village five-star hotel and that she was provided with everything she needed, Sharon knew she was saying that so she wouldn’t worry. Well, at least there were telephone services so she could talk to Charlene at least once a week, for there was a constant worry in the back of her mind that one day Charlene would get sick and there would be no competent doctor over there to cure her. Sharon felt cold at that thought.

  “Beautiful,” the man next to her said, “have you been here before?”

  “No.” Sharon had no interest to start a conversation with him.

  But the man didn’t take the cue, “It’s my third time. You’ll like it here. The Moso are hospitable, and beautiful, men and women alike.”

  Sharon nodded slightly. Charlene had told her that.

  The man was determined to impress her. “You know that they walk-marry? Moso men are lucky. They don’t have to take care of their own children.”

  “I don’t see anything good about it.” Sharon said coldly and shut her eyes.

  The man did not speak again.

  Sharon knew what he was looking for in the Kingdom of Women. Charlene had told her that besides scenery, tourists frequently visited the place for romance. Romance, Sharon thought with a cynical smile, the word belonged to the same category as Santa Claus did. She had read romance novels fervently in high school and had dated a couple of men actively since college. But never once had she met someone who had everything a true romance hero possessed. The great lovers were often promiscuous, while the faithful types were often boring. Jason, her first love from high school, was handsome and fun-loving, but he was on the flippant side and they broke up after she had seen him with another girl. Douglas, a lawyer client of hers, was successful, dependable, but he lacked humor and charm. Even so, they dated for two years and would go on dating had he not proposed to her. She had made it clear in the beginning that she had no interest in marriage, but still her refusal had hurt him badly. She had decided to put off the dating business for awhile…and that was five years ago. She wasn’t interested in short-term liaisons, but couldn’t find a man interested in noncommittal long-term relationships. And now she was approaching thirty-two. Ah, perhaps a Moso man was what she needed, she thought, and instantly brushed the idea aside. She didn’t intend to stay long in this backward region.

  At a quarter to four in the afternoon they got to Lugu Lake Town. The town was less than a block of Chinatown LA, with a market place in the center, surrounded by a half dozen shops and a row of office buildings. There were mountains no matter what way she looked at. She suddenly remembered vaguely another mountain town in the region where she grew up in. A warm feeling of homecoming filled her and in an instant she forgot her worries. The air was fresh and cool. Sharon inhaled greedily as she was waiting in the center of the market place for Urcher, Charlene’s host that was supposed to come pick her up with a gigantic truck at around four o’clock. Charlene’s host family consisted of a woman and two sons. Urcher was the younger son and according to Charlene, he was amicable as most Moso men were. He had been taking Charlene to the interviews and all that and Charlene seemed to like him. The elder brother however, could be rude sometimes. He often refused to bow to tourists’ demands and would even throw them out of their family-own hotel if they made too many unreasonable requests.

  **************

  Nobul got on his motorboat in the middle of the drizzle and headed towards hotel Shangri-la. The lumber dealer had called a moment ago and told him their order had arrived. They had been waiting for it for a month. And since the restriction on lumbering the supply was tight and he had better go get the merchandise before the seller changed his mind.

  The lake was beautiful even on a rainy day like this. Thick clouds that loomed above the lake couldn’t hide the brilliance of the sun, and pearl-like algae petals that floated on the water glistened under the bright sky. Empress Island soon shrank to a tiny patch of green, looking like a boat itself. The island had become his second home for the past year, as he had devoted his time to remodeling the Empress House, the house that his grandfather, the last chief of Moso, had dedicated to his Han wife, regarded today as the Empress.

  As the boat was approaching the shore he saw his mother Sadama rinsing potatoes in the lake. Nobul waved to her and smiled. No matter how rich he had become, his mother would never stop working. The bright yellow Benz Atego, which was usually at the factory, was parked on the lakeside. His brother Urcher must have come home for lunch. He shook his head. That nut, he wouldn't go anywhere without this behemoth. He docked his boat, told his mother that he was going to pick up the lumber, and jumped into the truck.

  Yet as soon as he started the engine, Urcher came over. “Where’re you going, big brother?”

  Nobul smiled. Urcher, five years younger than himself, had gotten used to following him everywhere he went. “Going to pick up the lumber. Want to come along?”

  “The lumber is ready?” Urcher hesitated. “Bad timing.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I wanted to use the truck. I was going to go pick up someone from town.”

  Nobul laughed, "You’re going to pick up someone in this gigantic thing? Honestly, Urcher, girls can't see you when you're sitting this high up. Take the Land Rover!”

  Urcher blushed at his brother's teasing words, “Cousin Onji borrowed the jeep the other day, from you.”

  “That’s right. He hasn't returned it? Take the Harley then.”

  Urcher hesitated at that suggestion. “The lumber can’t wait till tomorrow?”

  “No! We’ve waited long enough. You know how precious it is now.”

  “I guess I’ll take the motorcycle then.”

  “All right. I’ll be back by midnight.”

  “Wait,” Urcher raised his arm, “maybe we should switch. I’m a better truck driver than a motorcycle rider.”

  Nobul considered. True, his brother spent more time in the truck that on the motorcycle. Besides, last time he had an accident on the bike and threw himself off the cliff, but fortunately no injury. But that was months ago. Wasn’t it time to wipe that accident out of his mind?

  “Well. You should practice to improve your skills. That’s all.”

  “All right,” Urcher acquiesced, “although Summer might give me hell.”

  “Summer?” Nobul frowned as he was releasing the brake, “what’s she got to do with it? Is it her friend that you’re picking up?”

  “Her sister.”

  “Oh!” the truck rolled a few feet ahead and stopped abruptly. “Her sister in America?”

  “Yes. Summer has only one sister.”

  “She’s coming? Why didn’t I know about it?”

  “Well, I didn’t know until yesterday. Summer was sick the day before.”

  “Summer was sick? How’s she now?” He hadn’t come home for three days straight and missed all sort of things.

  “She’s better. But her sister was worried when she heard the news and bought a ticket right away.”

  What a fantastic sister. Nobul couldn’t hide his smile. He would like to have such a woman for a sister, no, for a lover.

  He put the brake on and got off the truck. “You’re right, brother. Summer would give you hell if you scared her sister with your incompetence.”

  Urcher was confused momentarily but eagerly got into the truck. “See you later!”

  As soon as the truck turned to the road, Nobul ran to his room in the back of the hotel.

  He checked his watch. It was almost three. The bus would arrive town at about four. He had an hour to prepare and to drive. The first thing he needed was a shower. The rain had messed him up pretty badly. Then he would need to put on something nice. Quickly he stepped into the shower and scrubbed himself with vehemence. He hadn’t felt such excitement for a
long time. Summer’s sister. He had been wishing to meet her for a long time. The woman who would send her sister a package every month. Food, clothes, medicine, as if Summer was living in the wilds. Her name was Sharon, he knew it, but privately he called her Snow, the Chinese approximation. He imagined she had snow white skin just like her sister Summer did when she had arrived ten months ago. Now the plateau sun had tanned her pretty thoroughly and looked no different from a Moso girl. But she should have a warm smile that reflected her warm heart of a big sister. He hoped she would be taller than her sister Summer, as he himself was over six feet.

  After he had dried himself he considered putting on some cologne, but decided not to. It might repel her. She might think that he was putting it on to hide any body odor. Then he decided what to wear. It might delight her if he wore his costume as so many tourist women seemed to love. But she wasn’t a tourist and he didn’t want to shock her. Finally he decided to wear something casual. A beige front buttoned shirt and a pair of brown khaki pants. Before leaving the room he took a wind-breaker with him. She might need it. Tourists came to the region were often unprepared for the cooler weather. Besides, it might be used as a raincoat if it rained again.

  He felt excited and nervous when he was about to leave the room. Don’t be silly. He told himself. You’re not going on a date. Snow might have a boyfriend. Even if she didn’t, she might not care for an unseasoned mountain guy like him, however rich he was… But that shouldn’t stop him from trying. He swung the jacket on his shoulder and stepped out of the room.

  Lured by the warmth and the aroma of the smoke of the burning pine, he stopped by the living room on his way to the courtyard.

  His mother was sitting by the fire and he joined her.

  “So you’re going to pick up Summer’s sister?”

  “Yes.” He bowed his head a bit, feeling shy under her observant eyes.

  “What a sister. Decided to come just like that. I’m afraid we didn’t take good care of Summer.”