WAITING FOR THE BEGINNING

18. Can You Replace a Dead Wife

Ping Ping wakes up in the hospital, unable to remember her own name.  That afternoon, a kind old man visits he and tells her that she's his grandson's wife.  He stays in the hospital with her, and thru out the week, other family member drops off food.  They look at her oddly but they all agree that she's Xian Ling.  After a few days, she returns home with Yeh Yeh.

The home, nestled deep in the farmland, houses three generations - but the grandson - her husband Wei Xin - no where to be found.  Over the next few months, she learns to cook over ancient fire, picking food from the land, preserving vegetables, making flour from dried beans and local spicy dishes from scratch.  

One day, as she clears away the ember - she picks up a charcoal and begin to draw on the ground.  Much to her own surprise, she can capture the likeness of her surroundings with a few strokes.  

Days turn into weeks.  Week turns into months.  Summer ends.  Fall harvest brings special celebrations throughout the village.  She makes lanterns with the family - and draws designs that seems at once familiar yet foreign to her at the same time.

Like everyone else, she calls the kind old man - yeh yeh (paternal grandfather).  One day, yeh yeh takes her to a building, about  quarter mile from the main house.  He tells her that sometimes, his grandson comes home during the winter and asks her to prep the room. 

The room stays empty through the new year.   Ping Ping / Xian Ling cleans up the room diligently, every day.  She doesn't know why, but as if she is expecting something.  That maybe if that mysterious grandson shows up, it would somehow help her regain part of herself.

Towards the end of wintery January, when the ice sheets have nearly all melted away, Zhang Wei Xin comes striding down the long walkway.  As soon as he steps into the family courtyard, one of the cousins comes up and smirk at him.  Then another pat him on the back, congratulating him.  

Inside the main hall, Grandfather greets him with tears in his eyes.  "You've finally come home."

"Good to be home."  Wei Xin hugs the old man, whose frame is frailer than Wei Xin remembers.  

As the he sits down, Ping Ping / Xian Ling brings out two cups of tea.  She looks out of place, too skinny, too young, too fair skinned.  Nothing like a local village girl.  She carefully sets down the tea and avoids touching him.  

"Wei Xin."  Grandfather sips the tea slowly.  "How long will you stay this time."

"A few days."  Wei Xin thinks about the trouble he's in and then adds.  "Maybe longer."

"What if I asked you to stay longer."  Grandfather ventures.

"Grandpa," Wei Xin answers as always.  "You know the reason I cannot stay."

"What if I gave you a reason to stay."  Grandfather continues.

"I cannot think of any."  Wei Xin is baffled.  What is yehyeh talking about.

"Meet your wife."  Grandfather motions for the young girl to step forward.  Wei Xin literally spits out his tea. 

Wei Xin stares at the quiet girl and is struck by the panic in her eyes, the same fear he has so often seen in the trafficked girls rescued from the prostitution rings. 

"We found her in the fields, near death," Grandfather said.

"Where is her family?"

"We are her family."

"Yeh yeh."  Wei Xin sets the down, exasperated.

"The doctor says that she probably lost her memory due to her head injury."

"Then she should be in authority's care,"  Wei Xin is getting a bad feeling.  "Why did the hospital release her to you?"

"I told them she's my granddaughter-in-law."  Grandfather takes out the family registry.

Wei Xin looks at the name Zhang Xian Ling next to his, unable to determine his own feelings. 

 Zhang Xian Ling was his childhood sweetheart.  She was lively, bossy, hardworking, loud and a country girl.

They knew each other all their lives and when he turned eighteen, he married her.  He wanted to conquer the world for her.  She died giving birth prematurely, a beautiful stillborn son.  That year, he lost himself to drinks, violence and joined a gang to lose himself in destruction.  Instead, of dying, the drug agency recruited him; over a matter of a couple of years, he went from being an informant to eventually joining the force.

His hands tremble with tides of emotion.  Guilt.  Shame.  Loss.  Sorrow.  Pain.  He misses his wife.

Looking at the girl, she reminds him of Xian Ling - the Xian Ling of his youth.  Before he tasted bitterness of love.  But this is all wrong.  Basically, his grandfather is committing a myriad of crimes - from identity theft, bride-napping and possibly skirting human-trafficking.  Everything he fights against.

"This is illegal." Wei Xin stands.  "This is like kidnapping."

Kidnapping.  Those words conjure up her nightmare of fire, smoke and her parents scream.

"I did it to  protect her."  Yeh yeh sighs  "They were going to put  her in the women's prison."

"So the best thing was to lie to the authority?"  Wei Xin cannot believe what he is hearing.

"You need a wife."  Yeh yeh sets down his empty cup and the girl quickly refills it.  "She needs a home."  The logic seems so obvious.

"She needs to get back to her own family."  Wei Xin retorts.

Get back to my own family!  Ping Ping looks sharply Wei Xin.  After so many months here, he is the first who understands her heart so clearly and within only minutes.

"Agree."  Grandfather nods.  "And who is going to help her?

To this, Wei Xin has no reply.

"Wei Xin." Grandfather smiles indulgently. "Why don't you think about it for a few days. Xian Ling cleaned up the old place."

"Don't call her Xian Ling."  Wei Xin bids out.  "She is not Xian Ling."

"Fine."  Yeh Yeh points to her casually.  "Call her Ling Ling."

Wei Xin turns and leaves.  That was his term of endearment for his wife.  His dead wife.