My name is Rebecca. I am a Lady of the 10th Court in the rule of Ming Lee, queen of the planet Tung, 4th planet in the solar system Titanium. I do not rule anything, but I am honored through-out the planet as the Quiet One. I never tell secrets.
I am married to Torrance, a small man from the far side of Tung. The Queen arranged the marriage to strengthen her rule in the far-away continents. I do not love him. But I do not mind. He is with me--no, I am walking in one of my many gardens. He is beside me. No. No. I am alone. He is too heavy for me. My legs hurt. I am alone in my garden, stroking a red red rose from the bush that was a wedding present from...
"Okay, Becky." He moves away from me and sits on the edge of the bed. "Which story are we telling your mother we read tonight?"
"The Ming Dynasty."
"Good night, Becks." He kisses me gently on my forehead. And leaves. I fall asleep.
The bell rings. But Ms. Burne asks me to stay. "You were daydreaming again the whole time today," she says. "Do you remember?"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Burne. I'll be better tomorrow."
"Do you remember, Becky?" She puts a folded piece of paper inside my notebook before I close it up.
"I'll read the books at home. I'm late for Pre-Algebra." I almost run out the door but I control myself and walk carefully. I don't like the hallways here. Someone could get trapped. There are doors only on the ends. Except for the classrooms and they have no way out either.
The bus ride is fast. The driver wants to get home. The bus is nearly empty and I sit alone in an aisle seat. "Hey, kid. You in the red jacket. It's your stop. Don't you go missing it again." I leave the bus slowly. The driver looks at me strange. He's mad at me.
I walk into the house. No one's home. I take a glass of milk and a peach to the family room and empty my backpack. We're reading about China in history class. The kings used to make all the girls bind their feet up so they couldn't run away. Queen Ming doesn't make girls wrap their feet. The Chinese kings--I mean emperors--had huge courts and lots and lots of rooms. Nobody had to work but everybody went to school.
I take out Ms. Burne's paper. It reads: "Becky, we are finished studying the Chinese dynasties and are turning to study of the 'ordinary people.' Please read the book we handed out in class today, 'The Good Earth.' I think you will like it." I don't remember a book but when I look in the pile on the floor, there it is. "By Pearl S. Buck," it says. I curl up in an armchair and read.
My mother comes home first today. "Becky, why are you reading in the dark?" She flips on the light. Out the window the sun is gone but the sky is still partly lit. "You'll ruin your eyes."
"I'm sorry, Mom."
"Your father and I gave you a perfectly good desk and lamp for your room. Why can't you study in there?"
"I like it better in here, Mom. I can concentrate."
"I don't know why. You don't get any privacy in here. No doors--you can even see the kitchen from here."
"How was work?"
"Oh." My mother sits slowly on the couch. "You don't want to hear about that."
"Yes, I do, Mom. Please."
She laughs. "Okay."
She is smiling when my father pulls his car up to the garage leaving it outside. "Dad's home," I say. The light outside is completely gone.
"You're always the first to hear him, aren't you?" She looks up at the window. "Oh, shit, I haven't even started dinner."
"I'll help you." By the time my father enters the house and finds us, we are cutting vegetables and defrosting chicken cutlets in hot water.
"Hey, Becky," he says. "Whenever it's my turn to make dinner, you're always doing homework."
"Oh, leave her alone, Carl," my mom says. "I just got home a few minutes ago and I asked her to give me a hand."
"I'll finish my homework after dinner."
"I thought you and I might go out for ice cream after dinner. Just you and me, Becks."
Something is squeezing me inside. Hard. "Dad, I just got a whole book to read for history. Besides," I add, looking down at my stomach. "I'm trying to lose a couple pounds, you know."
"Carl," mom hands him an iceberg lettuce and a bowl. "Cut this up, will you. It's already washed."
It's nighttime now. I am trying not to think of ice cream or the knot that's tight in my stomach. He usually only reads me stories a couple times a week. I am tucked away in bed. My mother's gone. Her kiss on my cheek is cold now. His footsteps march softly on the hallway carpet. So soft that only I can hear them.
I am Reb, a servant girl for a large house. My father sold me for enough rice and cabbage to last him, his parents, and my three brothers for the winter. They sold my older sister a year ago--after our mother died--to the same house. There has been a drought on the Eastern continent of Tung for many years. I can barely remember when rain came down freely and we cursed the floods.
I share a room with my sister. She tells me tales about the house and the many generations who have lived here. She tells me who to avoid and who to trust. I have been here a month. It is my job to dust the fine red lacquer bowls and vases in the great hall. They were carved centuries ago by servant women in large courts. I am holding the largest of the vases, one meant for armfuls of flowers. As I balance the vase on one knee and run the white silk cloth over the surface, the vase begins to glow like it's sending me a signal, a small smile, that only I can see. I have to look very close and hold my breath to see it.
Someone is in the hall. I turn, startled, and the red vase drops from my body. No! I will be punished. It is falling, falling...
"Don't you listen?" his voice brings me back. "I said, which story did we read tonight?"
"Chapter One. The Good Earth ."
Ms. Burne is touching my shoulder. "Becky? Are you with us today?" I look up. "What are you thinking about?"
"Ming."
"We studied the Ming dynasty over a week ago. Do you still have a question about it?"
I hear giggles from the corners of the classroom. "No, I was just thinking about how it relates...about how much I like The Good Earth ."
"Oh, you do. Good." She bends down and whispers "Becky, see me after class."
When everyone has gone, Ms. Burne walks to my desk. "There's no rush, Becky. I talked with Mr. Franklin. He said it's all right if you're late for math class."
"What did you tell him?" My stomach is turning over, I feel suddenly sick.
"I just wanted to sit down with you and have a chat. I looked up your records. You told the career counselor that history was your favorite subject. Is it?"
"Yes."
"Then why don't you ever pay attention? You're obviously picking a lot up, mostly from the readings. But you get mixed up on the exams. As if you don't know the difference between European and Chinese styles of rule or culture or language."
"I like the books," I begin. 'The Good Earth' is very interesting."
"Becky, what are we studying? What was today's lecture about?"
"That ordinary people are important, how they fit into things. The poverty of the Chinese farmers."
"Becky," she puts her hand on my shoulder again and squeezes. "We finished The Good Earth last week. We're not even on China anymore. We're studying India under British Colonial rule." She is looking at me funny. "You didn't know that, did you?"
"Your note said we were reading The Good Earth. I like it. I do. Just like you said I would."
"How is it you understand my notes but not what I say in class? Mr. Franklin says you do well in math. You can always answer his questions. But you sit in the back corner."
"Next to the door."
"That's what he said."
"Ms. Burne." My heart is beating too fast. I am Rebecca, the Quiet One. I must not betray the Queen. "Sometimes, there are too many people. Sometimes, it's not...I can't concentrate."
"But Mr. Franklin's class has as many students as this one."
"But they're not all around like here. The doors have to be close. The walls...I need them...I mean..." I imagine Ming's face when she learns I have said too much. She will be very angry with me.
"Tell me what's going on at your home, Becky."
I stare ahead. I am the Lady Rebecca. No one will pry the Queen's secrets from me.
Ms. Burne pulls a chair up close to mine and sits down. "Becky, honey. If something's bothering you and affecting your studies, I need to know. Maybe I can help."
I am walking in my garden. I caress the flowers one by one, feeling their silk-like petals. The roses have thorns. The drop of blood that runs down my hand, staining my sleeve, is red. The color of my smooth white blouse changes quickly, moving up the arms to the bodice and down to the tails. I must wash it out before anyone sees. I must protect the Queen.
I run into my house. My father is home early. "Your history teacher called. She says you got a 'D' on the last test. You don't pay attention, you don't even try." I race up the stairs, pretending not to hear. "You're going to learn how to study better, young lady. No more of these daydreams your teacher says you have all day." I lock the bathroom door behind me, take off my blouse, and wash and wash.
We're studying South America in history class. Ms. Burne writes me notes to study with and I sit in the back of the class. She doesn't keep me after anymore.
I have discovered many societies on Tung. Queen Ming is pleased with me. I tell only her what I find out. She gives me a room all to myself that I don't have to share, not even with Torrance. But I have one more request; I beg her to make the footsteps stop. She says she can't. I must wait and tell no one but her. "It is our secret, Quiet One."
It is night and the footsteps are back. I go to my secret room. I write books there but I don't show them to anyone, not even the Queen. I tell my father only the titles. Sometimes Mom asks about the stories that my father insists on telling me alone. I show her my schoolbooks. She doesn't ask often.
Tonight, I am Lady Rebecca, sent on a mission by Queen Ming. I am visiting a mother with fifteen children, all girls, living on the Southern continent of Tung. Her husband has died and the Queen wants to take the daughters under her wing. One of the girls sits in a corner, in a red dress, rocking in a chair. She is twelve years old. I go to her and put my hand on her temple. She looks up and a tear falls from her eye.
"What story is it tonight?"
"A Child of Peru."
Written in the early 1990's, by 1992
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