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 ~: NON-FICTION / CULTURE :~  The House of Ninety-Nine Closed Doors (excerpt) by Cher Chidzey This excerpt is taken from new release, The House of Ninety-Nine Closed Doors. First Mum looked up. She could see a part of the renovated, decorated wedding room through the gap in the bright red door curtain. A large double happiness character was sewn on the curtain where it was parted in the centre. The golden threads shimmered in the bright afternoon sun and they seemed to be mocking her. Sometimes the whole world seemed to be mocking her and she wanted to shrivel up and die. She imagined the loneliness she was about to face. It had happened in the past when she was replaced by Peony. Fortunately it was temporary for Huat had grown tired of his concubine. It seemed such a long time ago when she was carried into the Oh household as a young bride. She was sixteen then and she had perfect dimensions - 36" - 24" - 36". First Mum looked at her barrel waistline, elephantine legs and droopy breasts with disgust. Sometimes she had wished she had a knife and the courage to shave off the redundant fat. First Mum had contemplated the different ways of ending her life. Hanging was too difficult for the ceiling was too high for her to secure her rope. Slashing her wrists was too much a risk in case she failed and became incapacitated. Taking poison was no guarantee either and she did not want to end up having a rotten stomach and unable to enjoy food. Yes First Mum loved eating. She had thought of drowning as a good option but her consultation with the divine had advised against it. She was repeatedly told to persevere. First Mum could not bring herself to step through the curtain with the double happiness sign. She peeped through the gap. A large dressing table carved from zitan was the centre piece. Beside the table stood a full size mirror made of cheval glass framed in ebony. This silver-backed glass mirror had clarity that far surpassed the hand held mirror given to her when she was a bride. First Mum consoled herself by telling herself that in the early 1900s the technology was backward and could not produce items as such. It was not true. What First Mum did not know was the rarity of zitan wood, a purple coloured wood so dense that it sinks in water. In the past from 17th to 19th century only the imperial household was allowed to use zitan. In a corner of the room stood a wardrobe with ornately carved panels and a console for Chrysanthemum to store her textile collection. A Whenzhou bench furbished with cushions was placed under a window. She could see an exquisite Ming copper foot warmer under the bench and a chamber pot. Further along the wall a Singer foot-pedalled sewing machine of the latest model sat waiting for the bride. First Mum imagined the scene of Huat and Chrysanthemum sitting beside the table in the centre of the room, he practising his calligraphy and she creating new styles of fabric knot and loop buttons, eyeing each other and playing tootsies under the table. Maybe by then she would have learnt how to operate the sewing machine and expand her repertoire of creative skills. Oh how she wished she could put an end to the imagining, better still to put an end to her coming at all. A silk curtain hindered her vision of the bed but she could imagine the satin pillows, a wedding blanket: usually made of silk or satin on which was embroidered a dragon and phoenix in play. The most important item in a wedding bed was a piece of white silk, it was used to collect evidence of the bride's virginity. First Mum began to tremble. She retraced her steps and collapsed into the seat beside the pond. She heard Peony calling her. She said, 'Aunt Seek summoned your presence.' First Mum pulled herself out of the seat by holding onto the rails on top of the short wall that circumscribed the quadrangle. She followed Peony through the heavy wooden door that led to the dining room, through another smaller door in the north wall that opened into Aunt Seek's centre, a quadrangle. The sick bay and Aunt Seek's bedroom lay north of the quadrangle, her meditation room to the east and the boys' study to the west. From a distance they heard the sound of prayers accompanied by the rhythmic beat of a wooden fish: a percussion instrument in the shape of a hollowed out fish head used to accompany prayers. A piece of yellow paper with incantations pasted on the door entrance fluttered in the breeze. Peony stood outside the door and announced the arrival of First Mum. They heard Aunt Seek order First Mum to enter. First Mum was hit by a wave of incense. It took her some time to adjust to the dimly lit room, she could just see Guanyin: the Goddess of Mercy standing on a lotus on an altar. The flame from a wick immersed in a pool of oil flickered making the shadows of Guanyin dance on the wall. Three red dots suspended above an urn, its visibility fluctuated with the air movement in the room. A plate of fruit was the only other item on the table. A worn and tired looking cushion in front of the altar was evidence of Aunt Seek's dedication. She saw Aunt Seek seated beside a small table next to the altar and on the table a wooden fish and prayer book. 'A thousand fortunes,' said First Mum to Aunt Seek as she bowed and bent her knees slightly. She looked at Aunt Seek surreptitiously. In fact she had never looked at Aunt Seek in the eyes. From the fading light of the late afternoon sun she saw her sister-in-law's stern expression. First Mum did not get a reply, she only heard Aunt Seek's shallow breathing and it made her edgy. She likened silence to the calm before a storm and she knew when Aunt Seek was unresponsive it meant trouble. After seemingly an eternity Aunt Seek finally spoke, 'Huat's big day is coming soon. Why don't you pull yourself together?' First Mum would love to say: 'Someone, anyone feel my broken heart.' In the past she would have considered her mother as the appropriate person to turn to for support but now even her own flesh and blood had betrayed her. A thought entered her mind and refused to leave: I'm alone. Nobody loves me. The voice became louder and louder running amok in her head like a lunatic. First Mum fell to the floor and howled. Cha Tou heard Aunt Seek say. 'There is no need to cry so hard. I'm not dead yet.' It was not a loud voice but clear. In the past Cha Tou would often out of nervousness misheard her sister-in-law and apologise profusely. Now she was deaf to the world. She pounded her chest and tore at her hair like a five year old. She shouted, 'God. Is this my fate? Why don't you take me away?' Aunt Seek gasped. She had not seen Cha Tou in such a state. Cha Tou had always been petrified, like a mouse in her presence. Her utterances had been greetings and apologies. And it gave Aunt Seek great pleasure to see First Mum tremble before her. Now she appeared to be possessed by some dark spirits. Aunt Seek eyed at the mountain of flesh rolling on the floor. And if someone could read her thoughts, it would be: Now you can experience the lonely nights, the empty bedroom. Aunt Seek was about to summon some one to take First Mum away when Huat parted the curtains. Huat shook his head when he saw his wife banging her head on the wall. He greeted and apologised to his sister before turning to First Mum. Huat coughed - First Mum stopped. He spoke in a low voice, 'White Sugar. Let's go.' First Mum got up and followed him. They entered their bedroom. Huat seated himself in an armchair and First Mum slumped into her bed. He said, 'Explain yourself woman!' Huat heard her sobbing. She would like to give him a thousand reasons but she did not think he would like to listen to them. First Mum had never contradicted or stood up against Huat. When they were newly married at the age of sixteen if she was slow in responding to his demands Huat would hit her on the head with his pipe. Now she could not remain silent either. That would be an insult to the master of the house. Finally amidst sobs, she said, 'White Sugar will be replaced by Chrysanthemum. We've slept through three straw mattress but I've never won your love.' Huat got up and left First Mum in her river of tears. Keep reading The House of Ninety-Nine Closed Doors -- grab your own copy. |
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| Cher was born in Singapore. Her father, Huat was a wealthy jeweller from Shantou, China. During the ...>> | |
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