White Ghosts

20. THE STUDENT DEMONSTRATION

The opposition stronghold of Xiguan had been shelled by the mountain guns, killing about two thousand people, and the ensuing fire caused millions of dollars’ worth of losses.

But Klim was very lucky. The Red Cross volunteers found him among the ruins, his head badly wounded by the gilded statue of Guan Yin. However, the goddess had covered him with her body and protected him from falling debris.

As a white man, he was taken to the Victoria Hotel on Shamian Island, which had been converted into a hospital. He was left unconscious in the hallway until One-Eye discovered him on his way to the Don’s room.

Fernando insisted that the nurses put Klim next to him.

“Don’t you dare die,” he whispered to him. “You’ve saved my life and you’re not going to croak on me now. Anyway, look at the room service, amigo! There’s a bar, a balcony, and a gramophone with a full set of records. As soon as we’re able to walk again, we’ll make a trip to go and see the bathroom. I’m told the taps are gold-plated and the lamp brackets shaped like the most exquisite women.”

Soon, a famous British surgeon arrived at the hospital.

“Please save my best friend,” Don Fernando pleaded. “I’ll give you every penny I have. I’ll be in your debt for the rest of my life.”

But the surgeon curtly replied he knew perfectly well what needed to be done without the Don’s advice or inducements, and he ordered for Klim to be wheeled into the operating theater.

A little while later, at the Don’s insistence, a nurse was explaining the finest details of Klim’s medical notes to him. His friend had suffered a serious head injury, a stab wound to the chest, and an impressive list of minor cuts and bruises.

“That’s bad that he’s been hit on the head,” One-Eye told the Don. “If Klim survives, he might start acting weird.”

One-Eye had once been appointed an executioner and knew more about fatal wounds and injuries than any run-of-the-mill physician.

Much of the time, Klim was delirious, raving in Russian, Spanish, and English, and the Don was shocked to learn that his rescuer was married to Nina Kupina.

“You must be crazy to get involved with that sort of a woman,” he said indignantly. “Her breasts are undoubtedly magnificent, but to marry her! Her sort is nothing but trouble. Did you know she had an affair with Daniel Bernard?”

“I did,” Klim said in a quiet dangerous voice.

“Oh! You mustn’t take anything I’ve said personally. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

When the Don received the telegram from Daniel, he replied that Rogov had been killed during the shelling. It was unlikely that Mr. Bernard was going to wish Klim a fast recovery.

In the meantime, Klim was getting sicker and sicker by the day.

“Send Nina a letter and tell her that I’m finished,” he asked the Don on many occasions.

“Don’t hex yourself,” Fernando whispered fearfully. “Relax, I’ve already sent her five letters and ten telegrams.” He was so superstitious he didn’t even want to mention death.

All day long, the Don would pray to the Holy Virgin for Klim. “It won’t cost you anything to save him. What do you want of me? I can recite the rosary a thousand times. How about I donate the consignment of leather that’s been in my warehouse to the priests? I’m sure the soles of their shoes need saving.”

Fernando even went so far as to promise the Holy Virgin that he would put himself on the path of righteousness and start a crusade against the criminal underworld. Not long after that, Klim miraculously began to get better.

“We are blood brothers now!” the Don yelled happily. “You’ve saved me from those Chinese butchers, and my prayers have saved you from death. Let’s face it, you’re not a Catholic and if it wasn’t for me, you’d be burning in hell now. However, you’ll be able to live and enjoy life for a while.”

But enjoying his life was about the last thing on Klim’s mind at that moment. He became taciturn and sullen, and every day after the letters were delivered, he would turn his face to the wall and refuse to talk.

Fernando knew that Klim was waiting for a letter from his wife, but didn’t dare tell him that there would be no answer. He was good at counting but had no head for writing, and his message to Nina had been returned to sender with its misspelled address circled and underlined. Every day Fernando promised himself that he would ask Klim to rewrite the address correctly, but every day he would “forget” out of embarrassment.

In the meantime, the country was hit by a whirlwind of unexpected events. Sun Yat-sen died of liver cancer, and his adjutants began to argue about who would be his successor. The Kuomintang split into two wings: the Leftists gravitated towards an alliance with the Bolsheviks and the Chinese communists, while the Rights headed by General Chiang Kai-shek preferred to avoid changing one kind of foreign “patron” for another.

For Klim, these were matters of complete indifference.

“Is there any news from Shanghai?” he would ask absentmindedly each time Fernando started talking about politics.

However, the Don would pretend that he hadn’t properly understood what Klim was really asking about.

“The city fathers want to prohibit child labor, to put up the fees for petty traders, and increase censorship in the Chinese press,” Fernando said. “The students are protesting and fighting with the police every day, so we’re pretty lucky to be out of that vipers’ nest. I think we should stay in Canton and turn over a new leaf. We’ll re-fit the Santa Maria and become honest fishermen. I hear there’s a good trade to be had in octopuses.”

But Klim was determined to return to Shanghai.

“What am I going do with him?” the Don complained to the Holy Virgin. “If I don’t take him to Shanghai, he’ll get into some rust bucket, pick up an infection from the other stowaways, and end up dying on me. You’ve seen him—he’s just a bag of skin and bones. Without me, he’ll be a goner for sure.”

Fernando was constantly crossing himself and blowing kisses to the ceiling, but the Holy Virgin didn’t answer his entreaties.

“All right, amigo, you win: I’ll go with you to Shanghai,” the Don decided. “But I warn you, don’t expect my piety to last forever when we get there.”

At dawn, as arranged, Daniel drove up to the House of Hope and signaled three times with his car horn. A minute later, Ada appeared at the gate and flopped down on the front seat next to him. “Good morning, sir!”

It was impossible to look at her without an indulgent smile. She had no taste or appreciation of her youthful charm and was doing her best to imitate some showy movie actress. Her eyebrows had been plucked into two thin lines, her lips had been rouged with a stationery pencil, and a pink satin bow hung around her neck. Daniel recognized it from a gift box that some of Edna’s friends had given to his wife.

Ada took a lollypop from her pocket and put it into her mouth. The air in the car began to smell of mint: a prudent girl, Ada was evidently making sure that she’d be prepared should Daniel surprise her with a kiss.

“Where are we going?” Ada asked.

“You’ll see.”

Despite the early hour, the streets were full of Chinese students in their traditional long-skirted coats. Some were carrying folded banners, while others were putting up posters. Many were gathered at the peddlers’ kitchens, discussing something excitedly.

Daniel drove into a narrow street, which was bordered on one side by a neat hedge and the other by rows of Chinese houses with their tiled roofs.

Ada spied a taut canvas wing through a gap in the hedge and almost jumped out of her seat. “Goodness me, it’s an airfield! Are you going to show me an airplane?”

“I’m going to do a lot more than show you one,” Daniel said.

He drove the car up to a gate made of thin bamboo stems bound with wire. The guard ceremoniously opened it for them, and the car drove along the airfield, the gravel crunching under its wheels.

Ada’s eyes nearly popped out of her head looking at the airplanes.

“Can we go a bit closer? Oh, I wish we could have our photograph taken here.”

“We can arrange that later,” Daniel said with a smile. “Today we’re going to fly to Suzhou.”

“What?” Ada was lost for words. “We will… I mean—”

Daniel got out of the car and took her to a hangar.

“Are you sure this is going to be safe?” Ada said in a weak voice. “What if your airplane falls out of the sky? What if we get lost?”

She was overwhelmed by a combination of fear, mistrust, and excitement.

“Oh, you’re probably just teasing me,” she complained, forgetting herself. “How could you be so mean?”

The technicians removed the canvas cover from the Avro and wheeled it out onto the runway. Daniel helped Ada put on a helmet and a warm leather jacket—it would be cold up there in the heavens.

“I reckon I must look like a dragonfly.” She giggled nervously as she adjusted her goggles.

“You do,” Daniel replied bluntly and pointed to the back seat of the airplane. “Now get in.”

He helped her into the cabin, sat down in the pilot’s seat, and gave the orders for the engine to be started. The Avro coughed into life, bumping precariously along the airfield until finally with a mighty roar it soared into the sky.

“A-ah-ah!” Ada squealed excitedly.

Daniel made a turn and flew over the city, spotted with the shadows of the clouds. Its rivers stretched like rolls of exposed camera film glittering in the sun and its buildings like a set of multi-colored domino pieces that has been scattered over the ground by a fractious child.

As was his custom, Daniel flew over Nina’s house, but this time he imagined he was dropping an invisible bomb that would destroy her past with all its bad memories.

“Don’t worry darling,” he whispered. “I’ll arrange everything. You’ll never need to worry again.”

When they reached Suzhou, a city of humpback bridges and weeping willows, Daniel took Ada for a boat ride along the narrow canals that had been built the previous millennium.

The swarthy young boatman rowed slowly but deftly, each stroke of his oar creating small eddies in their wake.

The steps of the whitewashed homes ran down from the doors to the water’s edge where carved, age-darkened boats were moored next to the banks. Children’s voices and women’s laughter wafted down from the open windows.

Weak with excitement, Ada was sitting in the prow near Daniel, his wrapped gifts at her feet—a silk robe, a hand mirror, and an embroidered fan which they had bought in a little shop on their way.

“This city is two and a half thousand years old,” Daniel mused. “The same age as Confucius. Once Suzhou was the capital of the state of Wu, praised for its silk and beautiful women.”

“Like her?” Ada smiled, glancing at a fat woman rinsing linen in the canal. “What sort of woman do you go for?”

He motioned towards Ada’s reflection in the water, “I’m into this type. You know there is a piece of poetry:

“I know what you’re implying,” Ada said, frowning, “but you’re not going to leave your wife and business because of me. You’ve got too much to lose.”

“One day you’ll understand that this can all be easily exchanged for—”

“Would you even exchange it for your airplane?”

“If you want, I can give it to you,” he said after a pause. “Did you never want to learn how to fly in your childhood? Let’s make that dream come true.”

The idea was so ridiculous that Ada just shrugged. “Oh, stop it! You’re making fun of me.”

“I’ll make a gift deed out in your favor—now. The only thing I’m asking is for you to await my return. I’ll be going on a business trip soon, and it will last for a few months.”

Ada blinked in confusion. “You’re either one heck of a liar or you’re completely mad.”

“I’ve gone completely mad and I’m very happy about it.”

Ada was sure that he’d been joking until they went to a Chinese official and she received a document testifying that she was now the proud owner of an Avro 504.

Daniel persuaded Ada that it would be better to leave the airplane in Suzhou to keep their adventure a secret from Edna, and they hired a car to return to Shanghai.

“Mr. Bernard, I can’t handle it,” Ada said. “You keep doing good things for me, and I don’t even know how I can pay you back.”

Daniel smiled. “Don’t worry about that.”

They entered the city and drove along the Babbling Well Road, but as they went around the race track, the traffic ground to a halt because a crowd of students was blocking the Nanking Road. Drivers honked, rickshaw boys swore, but the young people didn’t pay them the slightest attention, shouting their political slogans in one voice.

“What do they want?” Ada asked Daniel.

“Equality, justice, and the abolition of laws that worsen the living conditions for the poor,” he said.

Daniel paid the driver and got out of the car.

“Let’s go, Ada, or we’ll be stuck here for a long time.”

She followed him between the honking cars, holding the package with her gifts tight to her chest.

As they reached the police station, the crowd became denser.

“Make way!” Daniel snarled at the Chinese—students, monks, clerks, and coolies—but no one listened.

A puny young man gave a rousing speech standing atop a column covered with advertising. The crowd applauded him wildly.

By the time Daniel and Ada had reached the opposite side of the street, a fist fight had broken out near the gates of the police station. The students began to throw stones; someone was knocked down and kicked by the crowd.

Looking back, Daniel saw an officer in a pith helmet.

“This is your last warning!” the policeman shouted pointing at the line of Sikhs armed with rifles. “If you don’t stop, I won’t be responsible for the consequences!”

What’s the point yelling? Daniel thought. They don’t understand English anyway.

He grabbed Ada’s hand. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

It was then that the first volley exploded.

Startled, the crowd let forth an animal howl and scattered in all directions, smashing anything in its path.

“They’ll crush us!” Daniel shouted, choking, as he was pressed flat against the wall.

He and Ada ran into a narrow doorway and found themselves in a small restaurant full of Chinese dressed in long blue robes. The steam was rising above their bowls, and an old ceiling fan was spinning with a quiet swishing sound.

A servant, as big as a wild boar, moved towards Daniel and Ada. “You are not allowed in here!”

He was about to kick them outside when a torrent of terrified people poured in through the door. Daniel noticed a disheveled white woman among them. She slid to the floor, holding her head in her blood-stained hands.

“Edna!” he yelled.

Forgetting about her gifts, Ada rushed to her. “Mrs. Bernard! What’s happened to you?”

They dragged Edna into the kitchen.

“Give me a towel,” Daniel snapped at the stunned cook. “Can’t you see—she’s bleeding!”

The cook threw him a damp cloth.

“What the hell are you doing here?” said Daniel angrily as he wiped a deep cut on Edna’s forehead.

She looked at him, her eyes wild, her lips trembling, her bangs matted with blood.

“News is my job,” she said.

“We need to get her out of here,” Ada whispered. “What if the Chinese find out that she’s Captain Wyer’s daughter?”

They took Edna by her arms and carried her through the back door into a yard that was littered with garbage. Having wandered through a rat run of back alleys, they finally turned onto a nice-looking empty street.

The bright sun shone through the treetops. Police whistles and car horns could be heard nearby.

Daniel had never been on this street on foot, and only when he saw the familiar white house did he realize that they had arrived at Nina’s.

Edna suddenly lost consciousness.

“She’s dead!” Ada screamed.

“Be quiet, for God’s sake,” Daniel snapped at her.

They put Edna on the grass.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he told Ada.

He ran up to Nina’s house and banged on the door with his fist. A skinny dark-haired man appeared on the porch.

“What do you want?” he said with a Russian accent.

“Is Nina there?” Daniel asked, and only then recognized Klim Rogov staring at him.

As a teenager, I often wondered what my own funeral would be like. In my mind’s eye, I imagined there would be at least five hundred mourners, a military band, and a heartbroken fair lady at my coffin. Who would have turned up if I had given up the ghost in Canton? The best I could have hoped was Don Fernando, One-Eye, and a couple of coolies impatiently leaning on their shovels. Some send-off that would have been.

Perhaps it was this prospect that helped me survive, an act of protest against having the sum of my life marked in such an unseemly way. Besides, I had to find out what had happened to Nina and why she hadn’t written to me after receiving so many of my letters via Don Fernando.

I tried to send her a cable before my departure but quickly came to an impasse. Canton was busy fighting spies, and they weren’t allowing any Tom, Dick or Harry to send a telegram anywhere without authorization and ID.

On my way home, I prepared myself for the worst. Was Nina alright? Or perhaps she had found another admirer and forgotten all about my existence?

On May 30, 1925, the Santa Maria sailed into Shanghai, and Don Fernando generously agreed to drive me to Nina’s.

“If you find your wife with a lover, come back and join me,” he said as he left.

I was as tense as a coiled spring. The weather was clement, the sun shining, and the birds chirruping without a care in the world, but here I was feeling as if I was about to be read a death sentence.

When I came in, Kitty and her amah had just returned from a walk. My daughter had grown so much that I could hardly recognize her. When I left she couldn’t even walk.

Kitty picked up a twig and gave it to me, saying, “Take this!” I squatted down, deeply touched, and asked her how she had been doing. She answered me in her baby language, which was absolutely incomprehensible to me.

The amah called Nina, and my wife ran to the porch, still in her white bathrobe, her hair dripping wet. Before I could say a word, she threw her arms around me and cried, “Why didn’t you write to me?”

It turned out that Nina hadn’t learned anything about my injury. Having received no news, she had decided to go to Canton to find me. The suitcases were ready and packed in her living room, and half a dozen different guidebooks were lying on the table.

We were both stunned and confused. In the months since our last meeting, we had conceived a thousand different plots of betrayal and death, and now it was hard to accept they had been completely unfounded.

Nina told me what had happened to her. The Jesuits had cheated her, her competitors had ruined her business, and she had little or no money to get by. I wondered how my brave girl had coped with it all?

I told her about my adventures and encounter with “Comrade Krieger.”

“Daniel never told me a thing about it,” Nina gasped.

I felt as though someone had just run a high-voltage through my entire body.

“Did he come here?” I asked.

Nina went deathly pale and began to explain in earnest that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him. At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and there was the man himself at the doorstep, as large as life.

Nina was the first to pull herself together and began to shove the intruder out of the door. “Leave us alone. Please!”

I saw the way he looked at us and realized in an instant that my wife had broken his heart.

“Did you hear the gunshots?” he said. “The police have just dispersed a demonstration on Nanking Road. Edna has been wounded and lost consciousness.”

“I’ll tell the driver to take you to the hospital,” Nina said.

She literally pushed him out and slammed the door behind him.

“We need to find out how Edna is,” I said, but Nina stood in my way.

“Don’t you dare go out there. The servants will take care of her. Don’t you realize that you and Daniel will end up killing each other?”

Through the window, I watched Nina’s car driving out of the gate. Daniel put Edna and Ada into it and they left.

“I’d better go,” I said. “I don’t want you and Kitty to get into any more trouble on my account. I’m sure Daniel Bernard will use every opportunity to rid himself of me, and Wyer isn’t likely to have forgotten my past misdeeds either.”

But Nina was confident that we still had a little time.

“The police won’t come visiting just yet,” she said. “They’ve got more than enough on their hands with the demonstration, and anyway Daniel will have already put two and two together that I know all about your encounter in Canton. There’s nothing he can do about it now.”

I really wanted to find out what had passed between her and Daniel, but I decided not to pry: the details would only lead to pain and recriminations. What we needed was to start all over again, from scratch, and right now the only thing I wanted to do was to play at happy families.

When we are children, it doesn’t matter to us who we are in real life. A boy can play a brave hero, and a girl can be a beautiful princess. If everybody agrees to play their part then there is nothing to stop us making our fantasy a reality.

We feasted until well into the evening, played with Kitty, danced, and kissed, our lives and very essence melding into each other’s. It was mind blowing how rapidly it all happened. The most trivial things, such as washing our faces next to each other at the sink, or me passing Nina a piece of soap behind the shower curtain acquired the most intense meaning. I never dreamed of being entitled to such joy.

It’s now eleven-thirty at night, my body is exhausted but relaxed, however, I still can’t get to sleep. I’m sitting in Nina’s bedroom at her dressing table and writing my new diary, having moved her hairbrushes and perfume bottles to one side. My previous diary, “Receipts and Expenditures,” has been lost in the vagaries of the Chinese mail service, but I don’t regret it. There are some details of my life that I need to forget.

I constantly want to take a peek at my sleeping wife, to check that she is really here with me and that I haven’t dreamt all this up. A mosquito net floats over her like a translucent cloud. My heart sings with hymns of praise, and my only regret is that I can’t pick up a telephone to God and thank him for his sublime generosity.