Golden Teardrops

[Infanticide]

The woman squatted near the small brook as she washed the meagre clothes that belonged to her husband and herself. They both had two changes of garments. As she scrubbed the clothes with her scrubbing stone, tears flowed down her cheeks.

For the second time in two years, she had lost a baby in childbirth. Or, that is what the midwife told her. The baby had been another girl. Qiao Hui never had a chance to see either baby. Where their bodies were taken, she was never told. She dared not ask. Her grieving had to be in secret.

Her husband had caught her crying for their first lost baby, and he had brutally beaten her. She was now careful not to show her consuming agony. While she washed the clothes, her husband was laboring in a rice field. He would be there until dark. She was free to indulge in her raw anguish until he returned.

Her last baby had died almost ten months past; yet her heartbreak knew no time limits. As she looked up into the peaceful blue sky, the sunlight sparkled on her tear-soaked eyelashes. Her teardrops appeared to Qiao Hui to be golden as they reflected the sun’s brilliant rays.

Across the small stream another golden vision appeared as if from nowhere. Qiao Hui wiped the tears from her eyes. At first, she thought the sun and tears had created another illusion. This illusion did not disappear when she dabbed her eyes; instead, it looked back at her.

A golden cat, sleek and slender, sat majestically still and looked at the grief-stricken woman.

“You’re a pretty kitty,” Qiao Hui said. “I’ve never seen you around here before. You’re too handsome to be a peasant’s cat.”

The cat seemed pleased with the compliment. Unexpectedly, it leaped onto a stone that peaked from the brook’s waters. Then it hopped onto three more stones until it had crossed the stream, which was no more than six feet wide.

The golden cat sat next to Qiao Hui and put its paw on her right foot as she teetered in her squatting position. She was both amazed at, and slightly frightened of the remarkable feline.

The cat patted her foot then walked toward the woodland. It turned around and looked at the puzzled woman. The animal seemingly wanted her to follow.

Qiao Hui put down the clothes and set her scrubbing stone on top. She got up to follow the beautiful cat. She wondered if the cat was a messenger from Lord Buddha. She instantly decided to call it Jin Mao (Golden Cat).

The cat entered a weedy area in the woods, about 200 meters from where Qiao Hui regularly washed clothes in the brook. Jin Mao stopped, turned around, then sat directly in front of a small pile. Qiao Hui came closer and knelt to better see the insignificant dusty heap.

As she examined the mound, Qiao Hui could see small bones and two tiny skulls. She looked at Jin Mao. The cat looked back regretfully.

Qiao Hui knew the skulls and bones were all that remained of her two babies. She clutched two handfuls of the weathered bones to her bosom and wept despondently.

Since China had enacted a one-child-per-family policy in 1979, female infanticide had increased dramatically.

Qiao Hui had always suspected that her babies had been snatched from her after she was secretly sedated. Now she knew the truth without doubt. Whoever the murderer was, he or she had not even given the babies a decent burial. That’s how little value was placed on females.

After an hour of mourning and conversing with the spirits of her baby girls, Qiao Hui dug a grave in the ground where she had found the remains. Her last baby still had some silky black hair clinging to the skull, but animals had mauled most of the baby’s flesh. The oldest bones of her first baby were little more than dusty twigs.

Qiao Hui found a blue poppy plant nearby that had two buds about to bloom. She carefully dug the plant and replanted it at her babies’ new burial place.

The entire time, Jin Mao remained with Qiao Hui. The cat sat and watched with somber reverence. It seemed to understand the sorrow the woman was experiencing.

“Thank you, Jin Mao, for showing me my babies and the truth,” Qiao Hui said as she finished the rudimentary grave.

As Qiao Hui walked back to the stream to gather the half-washed clothes, she looked toward the woodland. Jin Mao had disappeared.

Four months later, as Qiao Hui’s belly grew rounder from a new baby growing within, she developed a plan. She couldn’t take a chance that this baby would be a girl. Her husband had already warned her that it better be a boy … as if she had any power to choose the gender.

Qiao Hui had never loved Gang, her husband. The marriage had been arranged by their families. She had tried to be obedient and hard-working, but nothing she did pleased him. Like his name, he was a hard and severe man. Her future did not include him.

Once Qiao Hui would begin labor, she could not tell her husband. If she did, he would call a midwife, and either the midwife, Gang, or both, would murder the baby if it were a girl. Qiao Hui would deliver the baby herself.

When the day arrived and Qiao Hui felt the pains of childbirth, Gang had already left for the rice fields. Qiao Hui had just arrived at the brook to wash as she felt water trickle down her inner thighs. It was time.

At that moment, Jin Mao appeared again. The cat seemed to be beckoning her to follow. Its glistening gold coat shimmered in the sunlight. The cat would walk a few feet, then turn and look at her. The pains were becoming intense for Qiao Hui as she slowly followed. The cat ducked into the weedy wooded area and led her to the now familiar grave of her babies.

Throughout the months, and without anyone’s knowledge, Qiao Hui had added more wildflowers and river stones to her daughters’ grave. Jin Mao had brought Qiao Hui to her most beloved place to birth her third baby.

Qiao Hui was still clutching to the clothes and some blankets she had planned to wash. She thought to herself, if she died, at least she would die next to her babies. Pain shot through her belly, and she slowly bent down to a squatting position. She laid one of the blankets under herself as she rocked and pushed. Jin Mao watched but also seemed to be guarding the woman’s secret birthing place.

After about an hour of labor a small head could be seen entering the world. With all her strength, Qiao Hui gave a singular large push, and the baby spilt onto the blanket with a faint cry.

The exhausted woman gently lifted the baby to her heart: it was a girl.

Qiao Hui introduced her new baby to the spirits of her departed babies, then mother and child fell asleep.

The sun was high in the sky when Qiao Hui was awakened by a slight nudging on her shoulder. Jin Mao was trying to rouse her. Her new baby was still nestled in her arms. Yes. She must move quickly.

Qiao Hui carefully arose from her grassy bed with the baby sleeping in her arms. She returned to the brook. Most of the women of the village did their washing in the big stream west of the village. Qiao Hui preferred the seclusion of the small stream that was near her hut. The mother gently washed Yi Ran, and the baby wailed as the cool water flowed over her skin.

Qiao Hui had chosen the name Yi Ran because this baby was her light and joy. No one was going to take Yi Ran from her. She wrapped the baby in one of the blankets she had earlier planned to wash at the brook. She then washed herself.

Jin Mao was still at her side. The cat walked over to the clothes she had dropped and pawed Gang’s shirt and pants. He pushed them with his nose toward Qiao Hui.

Of course – dress as a man. Qiao Hui put her husband’s dirty but concealing clothes over her own clothes. Gang would be enraged when he realized she was gone, but his anger would be even more fierce when he realized that she had taken his second set of clothes, some blankets, food, and a large summer coat of his. The items were worth more to him than his wife and Yi Ran.

Qiao Hui went back to the hut one last time. She found the summer coat she wanted and a cotton sack that she had made with drawstrings. She placed two loafs of bread into the sack. She had just baked the loafs yesterday. She also found some rice cakes that she had fried. All were stuffed into the bag.

She walked out the door and then realized – she didn’t know where to go. Her parents would make her return to Gang. No one was on the side of a rebellious woman in China.

The golden cat lingered for her at the dirt path that wound by their hut. Jin Mao looked at her and patiently waited. The woman quickly followed. She had no idea where the cat was taking her and Yi Ran.

The unusual trio made their way south. They would stop frequently for Qiao Hui to nurse and clean Yi Ran. When they would come to water sources, Qiao Hui and Jin Mao would drink until they were full, and Qiao Hui would thoroughly wash her baby. Then the travelers would continue to walk in fields and woods that were near roadways. They were careful not to be seen.

One late afternoon, they found an abandoned hut. Inside was a fireplace and some old pots. Qiao Hui, who was used to foraging in the woods for food, found some black nightshade, bamboo shoots, mugwort, wild mushrooms, wild celery, and pomelo leaves. She and Jin Mao raveningly ate the stew. The trio stayed three days in the hut. During that time, the cat brought home two fish for Qiao Hui to cook.

Yi Ran was practically a perfect baby throughout the trip. While traveling, she slept underneath the summer coat that Qiao Hui wore. The mother had fixed a sling-like wrap out of one of the blankets that held the baby as the woman walked. Qiao Hui had the appearance of a rather short man with a very big belly.

The impromptu exodus provided some of the happiest days of Qiao Hui’s life. She didn’t have to answer to a crabby husband. She didn’t have endless chores to complete. She simply was walking through beautiful southern China with her new baby, the spirits of her lost babies and the sleek golden cat. Where they were going, she still didn’t know. She had learned to trust Jin Mao.

She still believed the cat was sent from a god to help her. She had prayed to all the gods for deliverance from her grim existence with Gang. She wasn’t sure which one answered by sending Jin Mao. So each night, she pragmatically thanked them all.

On the thirtieth day of their journey, the three came to a huge body of water. Qiao Hui had never seen such a huge expanse of sea. It was the Qiongzhou Strait.

The city they entered was the biggest Qiao Hui had seen. Automobiles buzzed up and down paved roads. Men wore the pressed suits that Chairman Mao wore. Women were dressed in similar outfits. The big-bellied man in peasant clothes, walking with a golden cat, was certainly a misfit in this bustling seaside city.

Jin Mao kept heading along the strait’s shore. Ships of all sizes were docked at the waters, while men labored to load and unload cargo.

Finally, the cat took its rest under trees clustered near a cement dock. Qiao Hui sat down next to the cat. The earth was cool, and a tree provided a sufficient backrest for the tired woman. A muffled cry came from beneath her jacket, and she discreetly guided Yi Ran to her breast. The baby sucked vigorously.

When dusk settled, Qiao Hui wondered where Jin Mao would lead next. As the woman watched the boats bobbing in the water, she noticed that the men who worked the big ships were leaving, probably to seek fun in the city. When all was quiet, Jin Mao rose and walked toward the nearest ship. The cat looked back at the woman.

What? Get on the boat? Qiao Hui looked at the cat – “Do you want to get us killed?”

Jin Mao waited patiently.

The cat had safely led them for thirty days, she must continue to trust it now.

Jin Mao walked straight up the gangway without hesitation. Qiao Hui wasn’t as confident. She continued to look fearfully around as she walked up the ship’s wooden bridge. She was scared any moment someone would yell at her and tell her to get off the craft. She noticed the name of the boat was Ningjing Zhilu (Serene Journey). She hoped this would be true.

Once on the ship, the cat went straight to some narrow stairs that twisted into the lowest parts of the ship. The cat seemed as if it knew the layout. Qiao Hui followed. As they passed some swinging doors, Jin Mao stopped. It seemed the feline wanted Qiao Hui to enter the doors. She cautiously swung open the doors and saw the ship’s kitchen. No one was in sight. The woman grabbed a bowl and filled it with whatever was in a large pot. She didn’t look for chopsticks; she would either eat with her fingers or pour the mixture into her mouth. She saw a small fish on a counter and grabbed it for her friend, Jin Mao.

They continued down until the stairs ended. They found themselves in a mechanical room. Jin Mao led them to a small dark corner, far from the work area near the engines. It was a noisy place, but they wouldn’t be easily discovered or heard.

While the men were still gone into town, Qiao Hui found a large bag of clean cloths. They were probably work rags. She stuffed as many as she could into her drawstring bag. She also put one cloth on Yi Ran for a diaper. Qiao Hui didn’t know where they were going or how long they would be on this ship; she had to make sure that Yi Ran was kept as dry and comfortable as possible.

At midnight, men could be heard shuffling onto the boat. Two men came into the engine room, but they stayed near the engine equipment and then were gone. As daylight broke, Qiao Hui heard the anchor lifted from the water and the ship began to travel.

The trip only lasted an hour. Qiao Hui heard the boat’s anchor lowered. The engines stopped. Men were laughing, singing, and running down the gangway. Then, the ship was silent.

Jin Mao arose, stretched, and headed toward the stairs. The cat and Qiao Hui (with Yi Ran tucked away) climbed the narrow stairs to the top deck.

As they reached the open area and walked toward the gangway, a voice cried out, “Hey – you know you’re not supposed to have a cat onboard!”

Qiao Hui waved and said deeply, “Okay.” She and Jin Mao ran as fast as they could to the dock. It was a good thing she was wearing her husband’s clothes; she appeared to be a man. Once on land, she peeked into her coat to make sure Yi Ran was unharmed after the jostling run. The baby twinkled her first smile – she approved.

Qiao Hui soon discovered they were on the Chinese tropical island, Hainan, and Jin Mao had disappeared again as swiftly and silently as the golden cat had appeared.

Everything on the island was beautiful – the flowers, the scenery, the surrounding sea. The atmosphere was more relaxed on the island compared to the mainland.

Qiao Hui found a job at a pineapple plantation. The plantation provided huts for many of the workers; Qiao Hui was one of them. True to her name, Qiao Hui was very smart and wise. Because of her intense work ethic, she eventually became a forewoman at the plantation.

Over the years, Qiao Hui saved her hard-earned renminbi and sent Yi Ran to Hainan Medical University on the island. Afterwards, Yi Ran earned a medical doctor’s degree in the United States. She married another doctor from California and the couple had two daughters, their Chinese grandmother’s delight. Qiao Hui spent her time between Hainan and Monterrey.

But now she was old and tired. Qiao Hui looked out her apartment window at Hainan’s glittering lights and began to cry for the two baby girls that were taken from her so many years ago. She longed to see them.

As she cried, the sparkling city lights reflected on Qiao Hui’s tear-laden lashes, creating once again the golden teardrops she had cried so many years ago as she washed clothes at the brook.

Suddenly, a sharp pain twisted in her chest. Qiao Hui fell to her knees.

Then she saw her old friend, Jin Mao. He was with two small babies. Qiao Hui realized they were her first two babies.

Jin Mao started to walk away. Then, the cat turned around and patiently waited.

Qiao Hui knew she could trust Jin Mao. She effortlessly stepped toward the cat for one more adventure with her golden friend.

With her two lost babies finally cradled in her arms, Qiao Hui followed the cat. As she did, all the pain, all the sorrows and the golden teardrops were lifted away forever.