The Mind's Journey Home
AUTHOR: Chata Saladbar
Chapter 5: Grandma
The sunlight streaming in through the window blinds Shang, which doesn't make recognizing his surroundings any easier. The high angle of the light tells him it is late, too late. The bed is soft, and the sheets smell floral, he realizes. The light scent reminds him of... abruptly he sits up remembering suddenly he is in Mulan's house, then realizes with a gasp that he is in her very bedroom. With eyes blinking against the harsh light he looks around and tries to remember how he got here.
The late morning sun bleaches the room and the house is silent, peacefully so. His tongue faintly tastes the acrid tea he drank last night. His body aches as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed and his skin feels unusually hot. He places his face in his hands, his unbound hair falling in tousled thick threads, and recalls with bitter disappointment the events of dinner. Such irony, he thinks, how he wanted to proudly face Mulan to thank her and instead just collapses. This seems to be a recurring pattern he has with her.
"Perhaps this isn't ironic," he says aloud to no one. "Perhaps it is just pathetic."
He drinks the cold tea on the nightstand, wishing for more to moisten his dry mouth and throat. He stumbles after he lifts himself off the bed, his legs suddenly not used to carrying weight, and then does the best ablutions he can in the washbasin. He remembers clearly his father's words of cleaniness helping to set an ordered and proficient example to his men. Outside he hears the crescendoing voices of two women. As the voices and footsteps get closer he recognizes that they are Fa Li's and Grandma's.
"I am, really I am," Fa Li is saying. "But a war hero? That is a world a woman has no right to. We had great plans for her to marry into a respected family."
"She is unique." Grandma's voice. "This is one child that is choosing her own path to honor. History will give her respect."
Fa Li isn't listening. "What good family would want a war hero for a daughter-in-law? We don't know--"
"I wouldn't worry about it, trust me." Grandma interrupts her knowingly.
He steps out of the bedroom and walks toward them, fully expecting some stern, disapproving glares. Instead, he is received by the two biggest smiles that he has ever been greeted with since before his own mother fell ill. Puzzled, he looks quickly to see if anyone else walked in behind him.
"Good morning Captain Li!" Fa Li welcomes him, her arms gesturing wide. "Please sit down and eat breakfast, or rather almost lunch. Shiheng made some strengthening soup and herbal tea."
On cue a servant of undeterminable age walks in carrying a tray of soup and tea. She carries the same smile as the others and is chattering happily about the ingredients. Shang had never heard a servant talk so much, his family's household servants were always solemn and seemed to resent his presence. He had always felt uncomfortable being waited on, although his parents seemed to thrive on it.
"Ah, you look MUCH better!" greets Grandma, clasping her hands together.
Shang cautiously moves towards the table, not knowing what to make of them. "I must profusely apologize for sleeping this late and for being a dishonorable and unexpected guest last night. I am truly very sorry."
Grandma waves him off. "I knew you needed the rest. One's thoughts become poisonous when the body is tired."
Her bright almond eyes pierce right through him as if his mind and feelings were translucent. He shifts uncomfortably and lowers his gaze, pretending to study his soup.
Fa Li's smile does not fade. "We are so happy to have you here." She pats him motherly on his shoulder. "I would love to accompany you with your lunch, but there is a ceremony in town for Mulan, Father and she are already there. You will join us after your meal if you are up to it?"
"Yes, of course."
Fa Li and Shiheng exit from opposite corners of the room leaving him alone with Grandma. She sits across from him and takes one of his hands in hers. He is unused to the intimacy of this gesture. When was the last time someone clasped his hand?
"Your hand is warm," she tells him. "You might be coming down with fever. You shouldn't travel for a few days."
He nods obediently though he knows he needs to get home. He acutely senses the full presence of someone with 50-plus years more knowledge, like the village wise women the servants used to whisper about.
"Mulan told the family the story of her adventure early this morning." she tells him, not releasing his hand. "We are all still in shock."
He continues to find the soup interesting, unable to meet her eyes.
"And then there was her description of you, I wasn't sure if there was a young man or really a god sleeping soundly in the next room."
He looks up at her with a surprised expression. "What do you mean?"
"She says you graduated at the top of your class, a year early too," she says. "And on your first assignment transformed a group of peasants into fine officers. AND despite your father's death continued to-"
"It sounds better than it is," he interrupts her, not wanting to hear anymore. His father had once told him even the illusion of power is power. He had gained the illusion of success, but inside he felt like a boy in a man's uniform.
"Tell me, Captain Li, the military as a career would not be your first choice would it?" she smiles and squeezes his hand still trapped in her grasp. "Don't look at me as if I am a sage, young man. Anyone with a few years can read you as clearly as you can see the lines on my old face. Shall I tell you what I already know about you?"
Shang nods at little nervously.
"You have the intellect, courage and strength to be the finest soldier in the Imperial Army, but your sensitivity makes you vulnerable. It can be your best asset, when you let it. It allowed you to spare my granddaughter's life permitting her to do great things, it allowed you to defy convention and join her and it allows you to be human instead one of those pompous fat roosters most men can be. However, now you let it swallow you in the shame that you wrongly believe you deserve."
She continues to smile at him as he tries to process what she has just told him. "I don't know what to believe anymore," he finally whispers sadly. "We saw so much death, death of great people. Everything I had believed in died with my father and I can not live with what I did to your granddaughter."
"Your father's army was a great one, its ideals have served us well for generations and those ideals will continue to guide us for many more. The fault would be to be not to open new opportunities. Despite being at a young impressionable age and thrust with enormous responsibities, you did open up to a new idea, that is a gift that we all are grateful for. I think if you didn't care for Mulan so much you would see this objectively."
His face deeply reddens but he continues to look at the Grandma. Her wiseness and grace of spirit exudes true beauty to her countenance. He wants to stay here forever, where the elders smile and touch him with affection, where the servants are happy, where the furniture and decorations look lived in, and where the beautiful strong Mulan walks and stirs his senses.
"Grieve for your father, but be happy knowing that people we love never really leave us. Their memories and spirits stay with you, comforting, guiding you through the rest of the years of your life. There will be yearning, there is pain, but they are the first steps in letting our memories change the pain to joy, joy from having them with us once more, bringing them back to life with those moments of clarity, those moments we remember their laughter, their advice and their strength." Grandma rises and turns, ready to leave him to the tears that well up in his eyes. "Go join in the ceremony for Mulan, but only after you finish that soup. And then during the respite from the Huns, go do what you really wanted to be, the painter, the musician? And make Mulan happy."
His mouth drops open, until now he had refused to hope for anything more than her forgiveness. He had refused to let himself dream of having her always. He was her would-be executioner, why would she want to always be haunted by that fact? "I don't think Mulan will have me," he says.
Grandma lets out a giggle, sounding more like a young girl than and wise old woman, and then walks away.
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