NANKING STORE

by Macario D. Tiu
I WAS only three years old then, but I have vivid memories of Peter and Linda's
wedding. What I remember most was jumping and romping on their pristine
matrimonial bed after the wedding. I would learn later that it was to ensure that their
first-born would be a boy. I was chosen to do the honors because I was robust and fat.
I also remember that I got violently sick after drinking endless bottles of soft drinks. I
threw up everything that I had eaten, staining Linda's shimmering satin wedding
gown. Practically the entire Chinese community of the city was present. There was so
much food that some Bisayan children from the squatter's area were allowed to enter
the compound to eat in a shed near the kitchen.
During their first year of marriage, Linda often brought me to their house in Bajada.
She and Peter would pick me up after nursery school from our store in their car. She
would tell Mother it was her way of easing her loneliness, as all her relatives and
friends were in Cebu, her hometown. Sometimes I stayed overnight with them.
I liked going there because she pampered me, feeding me fresh fruits as well as
preserved Chinese fruits like dikiam, champoy and kiamoy. Peter was fun too, making
me ride piggyback. He was very strong and did not complain about my weight.
Tua Poy, that's what she fondly called me. It meant Fatso. I called her Achi, and Peter,
Ahiya. They were a happy couple. I would see them chase each other among the
furniture and into the rooms. There was much laughter in the house. It was this happy
image that played in my mind about Peter and Linda for a long time.
I was six years old when I sensed that something had gone wrong with their marriage.
Linda left the Bajada house and moved into the upstairs portions of Nanking Store
which was right across from Father's grocery store in Santa Ana. The Bajada
residence was the wedding gift of Peter's parents to the couple. It was therefore
strange that Linda would choose to live in Santa Ana while Peter would stay in
Bajada, a distance of some three kilometers.
In Santa Ana where the Chinese stores were concentrated, the buildings used to be
uniformly two storeys high. The first floor was the store; the second floor was the
residence. In time some Chinese grew prosperous and moved out to establish little
enclaves in different parts of the city and in the suburbs. We remained in Santa Ana.
One late afternoon, after school, I caught Linda at home talking with Mother.
"Hoa, Tua Poya. You've grown very tall!" Linda greeted me, ruffling my hair.
At that age, the show of affection made me feel awkward and I sidled up to Mother.
Linda gave me two Mandarin oranges. I stayed at the table in the same room, eating
an orange and pretending not to listen to their conversation.
I noticed that Linda's eyes were sad, not the eyes that I remembered. Her eyes used to
be full of light and laughter. Now her eyes were somber even when her voice sounded
casual and happy.
"I got bored in Bajada," Linda said. "I thought I'd help Peter at the store."
That was how she explained why she had moved to Santa Ana. I wanted to know if
she could not do that by going to the store in the morning and returning home to
Bajada at night like Peter did. I wished Mother would ask the question, but she did
not.
However, at the New Canton Barbershop I learned the real reason. One night Mother
told me to fetch Father because it was past eight o'clock and he hadn't had his dinner.
As a family we ate early. Like most Chinese, we would close the store by five and go
up to the second floor to eat supper.
The New Canton Barbershop served as the recreation center of our block. At night the
sidewalk was brightly lighted, serving as the extension of the barbershop's waiting
room. People congregated there to play Chinese chess, to read the Orient News or just
talk. It was a very informal place. Father and the other elderly males would go there in
shorts and sando shirts.
He was playing chess when I got there. He sat on a stool with one leg raised on the
stool.
"Mama says you should go home and eat," I said.
Father looked at me and I immediately noticed that he had had a drink. The focus of
his eyes was not straight.
"I have eaten. Go home. Tell Mother I'll follow in a short while," he said.
I stayed on and watched the game although I did not understand a thing.
"I said go home," Father said, glowering at me.
I did not budge.
"This is how children behave now. You tell them to do something and they won't
obey," he complained to his opponent. Turning to me, he said, "Go home."
"Check," his opponent said.
"Hoakonga!" Father cried, "I turn around and you cheat me."
His opponent laughed aloud, showing toothless gums.
Father studied the chessboard. "Hoakonga! You've defeated me four times in a row!"
"Seven times."
"What? You're a big cheat and you know that. Certainly five times, no more!"
It elicited another round of laughter from the toothless man. Several people in the
adjoining tables joined in the laughter. Father reset the chess pieces to start another
game.
"You beat me in chess, but I have six children. All boys. Can you beat that?" he
announced.
Father's laughter was very loud. When he had had a drink he was very talkative.
"See this?" he hooked his arm around my waist and drew me to his side. "This is my
youngest. Can you beat this?"
The men laughed. They laughed very hard. I did not know what was funny, but it
must be because of the incongruous sight of the two of us. He was very thin and I was
very fat.
"Well, I have I seven children!" the toothless man said.
"Ah, four daughters. Not counted," Father said.
"Ah Kong! Ah Kong!" somebody said.
The laughter was deafening. Ah Kong lived several blocks away. He had ten children,
all daughters, and his wife was pregnant again.
They laughed at their communal joke, but the laughter slowly died down until there
was absolute silence. It was a very curious thing. Father saw Peter coming around the
corner and he suddenly stopped laughing. The toothless man turned, saw Peter, and he
stopped laughing, too. Anybody who saw Peter became instantly quiet so that by the
time he was near the barbershop the group was absolutely silent.
It was Peter who broke the silence by greeting Father. He also greeted some people,
and suddenly they were alive again. The chess pieces made scraping noises on the
board, the newspapers rustled, and people began to talk.
"Hoa, Tua Poya, you've grown very tall!" he said, ruffling my hair.
I smiled shyly at him. He exchanged a few words with Father and then, ruffling my
hair once more, he went away. It struck me that he was not the Peter I knew, vigorous
and alert. This Peter looked tired, and his shoulders sagged.
I followed him with my eyes. Down the road I noted that his car was parked in front
of Nanking Store. But he did not get into his car; instead he went inside the store. It
was one of those nights when he would sleep in the store.
"A bad stock," the toothless man said, shaking his head. "Ah Kong has no bones. But
Peter is a bad stock. A pity. After four years, still no son. Not even a daughter."
"It's the woman, not Peter," said a man from a neighboring table. "I heard they tried
everything. She even had regular massage by a Bisayan medicine woman."
"It's sad. It's very sad," the toothless man said. "His parents want him to junk her, but
he loves her."
When Father and I got home, I went to my First Brother's room.
"Why do they say that Ah Kong has no bones?" I asked my brother.
"Where did you learn that?" my brother asked.
"At the barbershop."
"Don't listen in on adult talk," he said. "It's bad manners."
"Well, what does it mean?"
"It means Ah Kong cannot produce a son."
"And what is a bad stock?"
My brother told me to go to sleep, but I persisted.
"It means you cannot produce any children. It's like a seed, see? It won't grow. Why
do you ask?" he said.
"They say Peter is a bad stock."
"Well, that's what's going to happen to him if he won't produce a child. But it's not
really Peter's problem. It is Linda's problem. She had an appendectomy when she was
still single. It could have affected her."
Somehow I felt responsible for their having no children. I worried that I could be the
cause. I hoped nobody remembered that I jumped on their matrimonial bed to give
them good luck. I failed to give them a son. I failed to give them even a daughter. But
nobody really blamed me for it. Everybody agreed it was Linda's problem.
That was why Linda had moved in to Santa Ana.
But the problem was more complicated than this. First Brother explained it all to me
patiently. Peter's father was the sole survivor of the Zhin family. He had a brother but
he died when still young. The family name was therefore in danger of dying out. It
was the worst thing that could happen to a Chinese family, for the bloodline to vanish
from the world. Who would pay respects to the ancestors? It was unthinkable. Peter
was the family's only hope to carry on the family name, and he still remained
childless.
But while everybody agreed that it was Linda's fault, some people also doubted
Peter's virility. At the New Canton Barbershop it was the subject of drunken
bantering. He was aware that people were talking behind his back. From a very
gregarious man, he became withdrawn and no longer socialized.
Instead he put his energies into Nanking Store. His father had retired and had given
him full authority. Under his management, Nanking Store expanded, eating up two
adjacent doors. It was rumored he had bought a large chunk of Santa Ana and was
diversifying into manufacturing and mining.
Once, I met him in the street and I smiled at him but he did not return my greeting. He
did not ruffle my hair. He had become a very different man. His mouth was set very
hard. He looked like he was angry at something.
The changes in Linda occurred over a period of time. At first, she seemed to be in
equal command with Peter in Nanking Store. She had her own desk and sometimes
acted as cashier. Later she began to serve customers directly as if she were one of the
salesgirls.
Then her personal maid was fired. Gossip blamed this on Peter's parents. She lived
pretty much like the three stay-in salesgirls and the young mestizo driver who cooked
their own meals and washed their own clothes.
Members of the community whose opinions mattered began to sympathize with her
because her in-laws were becoming hostile towards her openly. The mother-in-law
made it known to everybody she was unhappy with her. She began to scold Linda in
public. "That worthless, barren woman," she would spit out. Linda became a very
jittery person. One time, she served tea to her mother-in-law and the cup slid off the
saucer. It gave the mother-in-law a perfect excuse to slap Linda in the face in public.
Peter did not help her when it was a matter between his parents and herself. I think at
that time he still loved Linda, but he always deferred to the wishes of his parents.
When it was that he stopped loving her I would not know. But he had learned to go to
night spots and the talk began that he was dating a Bisayan bar girl. First Brother saw
this woman and had nothing but contempt for her.
"A bad woman," First brother told me one night about this woman. "All make-up. I
don't know what he sees in her."
It seemed that Peter did not even try to hide his affair because he would occasionally
bring the girl to a very expensive restaurant in Matina. Matina was somewhat far from
Santa Ana, but the rich and mobile young generation Chinese no longer confined
themselves to Santa Ana. Many of them saw Peter with the woman. As if to lend
credence to the rumor, the occasional night visits he made at Nanking Store stopped. I
would not see his car parked there at night again.
One day, Peter brought First Brother to a house in a subdivision in Mandug where he
proudly showed him a baby boy. It was now an open secret that he kept his woman
there and visited her frequently. First Brother told me about it after swearing me to
secrecy, the way Peter had sworn him to secrecy.
"Well, that settles the question. Peter is no bad stock after all. It had been Linda all
along," First Brother said.
It turned out Peter showed his baby boy to several other people and made them swear
to keep it a secret. In no time at all everybody in the community knew he had finally
produced a son. People talked about the scandal in whispers. A son by a Bisayan
woman? And a bad woman at that? But they no longer joked about his being a bad
stock.
All in all people were happy for Peter. Once again his prestige rose. Peter basked in
this renewed respect. He regained his old self; he now walked with his shoulders
straight, and looked openly into people's eyes. He also began to socialize at New
Canton Barbershop. And whenever we met, he would ruffle my hair.
As for his parents, they acted as if nothing had happened. Perhaps they knew about
the scandal, but pretended not to know. They were caught in a dilemma. On one hand,
it should make them happy that Peter finally produced a son. On the other hand, they
did not relish the idea of having a half-breed for a grandson, the old generation
Chinese being conscious of racial purity. What was certain though was that they
remained unkind to Linda.
So there came a time when nobody was paying any attention anymore to Linda, not
even Peter. Our neighbors began to accept her fate. It was natural for her to get
scolded by her mother-in-law in public. It was natural that she should stay with the
salesgirls and the driver. She no longer visited with Mother. She rarely went out, and
when she did, she wore a scarf over her head, as if she were ashamed for people to see
her. Once in the street I greeted her--she looked at me with panic in her eyes,
mumbled something, drew her scarf down to cover her face, and hurriedly walked
away.
First Brother had told me once that Linda's degradation was rather a strange case. She
was an educated girl, and although her family was not rich, it was not poor either.
Why she allowed herself to be treated that way was something that baffled people.
She was not that submissive before. Once, I was witness to how she stood her ground.
Her mother-in-law had ordered her to remove a painting of an eagle from a living
room wall of their Bajada house, saying it was bad feng shui. With great courtesy,
Linda refused, saying it was beautiful. But the mother-in-law won in the end. She
nagged Peter about it, and he removed the painting.
When the Bisayan woman gave Peter a second son, it no longer created a stir in the
community. What created a minor stir was that late one night, when the New Canton
Barbershop was about to close and there were only a few people left, Peter dropped
by with his eldest son whom he carried piggyback. First Brother was there. He said
everybody pretended the boy did not exist.
Then Peter died in a car accident in the Buhangin Diversion Road. He was returning
from Mandug and a truck rammed his car, killing him instantly. I cried when I heard
about it, remembering how he had been good to me.
At the wake, Linda took her place two rows behind her mother-in-law who
completely ignored her. People passed by her and expressed their condolences very
quickly, as if they were afraid of being seen doing so by the mother-in-law. At the
burial, Linda stood stoically throughout the ceremony, and when Peter was finally
interred, she swooned.
A few weeks after Peter's burial, we learned that Linda's mother-in-law wanted her
out of Nanking Store. She offered Linda a tempting amount of money. People thought
it was a vicious thing to do, but none could help her. It was a purely family affair.
However, a month or two passed and Linda was still in Nanking Store. In fact, Linda
was now taking over Peter's work.
I was happy to see that she had begun to stir herself to life. It was ironic that she
would do so only after her husband's death. But at the same time, we feared for her.
Her mother-in-law's hostility was implacable. She blamed Linda for everything. She
knew about the scandal all along, and she never forgave Linda for making Peter the
laughing stock of the community, forcing him into the arms of a Bisayan girl of an
unsavory reputation and producing half-breed bastard sons.
We waited keenly for the showdown that was coming. A flurry of emissaries went to
Nanking Store but Linda stood pat on her decision to stay. Then one morning, her
mother-in-law herself came in her flashy Mercedes. We learned about what actually
happened through our domestic helper who got her story from the stay-in salesgirls.
That was how the entire community learned the details of the confrontation.
According to them, Linda ran upstairs to avoid talking to her mother-in-law. But the
older woman followed and started berating her and calling her names. Linda kept her
composure. She did not even retaliate when the older woman slapped her. But when
the mother-in-law grabbed Linda's hair, intending to drag her down the stairs, Linda
kicked her in the shin. The old woman went wild and flayed at Linda. Linda at first
fought back defensively, but as the older woman kept on, she finally slapped her
mother-in-law hard in the face. Stunned, the older woman retreated, shouting threats
at her. She never showed her face in Santa Ana again.
While some conservative parties in the community did not approve of Linda's actions,
many others cheered her secretly. They were sad, though, that the mother-in-law,
otherwise a good woman, would become a cruel woman out of desperation to protect
and perpetuate the family name.
Since the enmity had become violent, the break was now total and absolute. This
family quarrel provided an interesting diversion in the entire community; we followed
each and every twist of its development like a TV soap opera. When the in-laws hired
a lawyer, Linda also hired her own lawyer. It was going to be an ugly fight over
property.
Meanwhile, Linda's transformation fascinated the entire community. She had removed
her scarf and made herself visible in the community again. I was glad that every time
I saw her she was getting back to her old self. Indeed it was only then that I noticed
how beautiful she was. She had well-shaped lips that needed no lipstick. Her eyes
sparkled. Color had returned to her cheeks, accentuating her fine complexion.
Blooming, the women said, seeming to thrive on the fight to remain in Nanking Store.
The young men sat up whenever she passed by. But they would shake their heads, and
say "What a pity, she's barren."
Then without warning the in-laws suddenly moved to Manila, bringing with them the
two bastard sons. They made it known to everybody that it was to show their
contempt for Linda. It was said that the other woman received a handsome amount so
she would never disturb them again.
We all thought that was that. For several months an uneasy peace settled down in
Nanking Store as the struggle shifted to the courts. People pursued other interests.
Then to the utter horror of the community, they realized Linda was pregnant.
Like most people, I thought at first that she was just getting fat. But everyday it was
getting obvious that her body was growing. People had mixed reactions. When she
could not bear a child she was a disgrace. Now that she was pregnant, she was still a
disgrace. But she did not care about what people thought or said about her. Wearing a
pair of elastic pants that highlighted her swollen belly, she walked all over Santa Ana.
She dropped by every store on our block and chatted with the storeowners, as if to
make sure that everybody knew she was pregnant.
There was no other suspect for her condition but the driver. Nobody had ever paid
him any attention before, and now they watched him closely. He was a shy mestizo
about Peter's age. A very dependable fellow, yes. And good-looking, they now
grudgingly admitted.
"Naughty, naughty," the young men teased him, some of whom turned unfriendly.
Unused to attention, the driver went on leave to visit his parents in Iligan City.
One night, I arrived home to find Linda talking with Mother.
"Hoa, Tua Poya! You're so tall!" she greeted me. "Here are some oranges. I know you
like them."
I said my thanks. How heavy with child she was!
"How old are you now?"
"Twelve," I said.
"Hmm, you're a man already. I should start calling you Napoleon, huh? Well,
Napoleon, I've come here to say goodbye to your mother, and to you, too."
She smiled; it was the smile I remembered when I was still very young, the smile of
my childhood.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to Iligan to fetch Oliver. Then we'll proceed to Cebu to visit
my parents. Would you like to go with me?"
I looked at Mother. She was teary eyed. Linda stood up and ruffled my hair.
"So tall," she said.
That was two years ago. We have not heard from Linda again. Nanking Store remains
closed. The store sign has streaked into pastel colors like a stale wedding cake. First
Brother says it is best for Linda to stay away. As for me, I am happy for her but I keep
wondering if she had given birth to a boy.