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How well did he know this girl he’d exchanged a few words with in a foreign tongue? Since he didn’t understand much Mandarin, he didn’t know exactly what she had said to him. Was he a fool? What was waiting for him down there?
Robert’s imagination conjured up her smile, the shape of her lips and the look in her eyes. She was an angel. Ayaou wouldn’t hurt him. No woman with her eyes could do injury to another person. After all, she stood beside him and killed Taipings. She was loyal and had courage.
He lowered the hatch into the open position and stared at the narrow steps leading into what looked like a black, sinister abyss. With both hands on the walls on either side of him, he descended.
Once his head dropped below the level of the floor, he closed the hatch behind him. All light vanished. He was blind. The air was cool and dry. He smelled ripe peaches and pears and the musty sweet smell of grain. He fumbled in his pocket for a match but couldn’t fine one.
After his eyes adjusted, the room wasn’t as dark. There were baskets of yams and bags of rice. Manure clung to the produce. The low ceiling sloped down toward the far end of the cellar where a dim light leaked around a stack of burlap bags filled with rice. Robert gasped and jumped when a rat the size of a small cat ran across his boots. While he waited for the shocked pounding of his heart to subside, he questioned his reasons for coming down here.
With reluctant legs that grew heavier with each step, he walked the length of that narrow root cellar and had to get down on all fours to squeeze around the fifty-pound bags of rice and into the narrow space beyond. He stopped. What if she wasn’t there? What if this was a trap? What if there was someone else waiting on the other side to chop his head off?
One of his younger sisters had crawled into a hollow tree once when she was four. That dead space in the tree had extended into one of the larger branches. She jammed herself in there. Robert and his father heard her screams and used saws to cut away the end of that dead branch, so they could pluck her like a tooth from a jaw. He now knew what she must have felt, but unlike her, he still had time to escape. Shaking off his doubts, Robert moved forward.
Once Robert crawled beyond the bags of rice, light brushed away the gloom. He saw Ayaou sitting against a wall with her knees pulled to her chest. He breathed with relief. The top of her head was inches from the close ceiling. She turned the lantern at her feet to its softest illumination and put the light on top of a small barrel of wine nestled in the corner behind her.
“Robert Hart,” she said, chewing the syllables, “I know why you’re here.”
Guilt burned on his face. He didn’t know what to say. If she were reading his mind, she knew how much he wanted her. He shifted around uncomfortably in the tight space until he faced her.
“I believe you are here to make me your concubine,” she said.
“Are you playing games?” Robert said. He had no idea what she was up to. “I’m not here to cause you unhappiness.” Defensiveness crept into his voice.
“My father’s up there negotiating my price and the price for my two sisters,” she said. “I’ll be seventeen in a few months. My sisters are fourteen and thirteen. How do you think this makes me feel?” She looked sad.
“I’d hate it if I were you.” He reached for her hand, and there was no resistance.
“I don’t hate those men,” she said, shaking her head. “My father hates what he does to feed his family. He has to sell us. He’s not the only man in the village who does that. He has to treat us like hens and fish in the market. He can’t afford to be soft hearted.” Tears glittered in her eyes.
“But he’s selling you to a stranger.” Robert stammered.
“That’s my fate.” She lowered her head to stare at the ground.
“No, it’s not!” He burned with anger.
She looked up. “I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but in China a girl is born to be a foot warmer for a man.”
“Any man?”
“It makes no difference. You can’t understand? After all, you’re not Chinese.” Her chin came up as if challenging him.
“I’d like to try,” he said. “How much will your price be?” Her hand felt lifeless like cold, dead rubber.
“I don’t know. My father said I’m no beauty. My skin’s too dark. I’m too thin. My chest is a washboard.” She lifted a foot. “My feet were never bound. I do not have a pale moon face, and that is the requirement for selling at a high price to a Chinese man.” She extracted her hand from his grasp. “My father has done what he can. My sisters and I are healthy as sows. My family needs the money, so he can see a doctor for his intestine problem. If he has any money left, he’ll provide educations for my brothers and buy them wives. That way they can carry on the family name.”
A rice bag touched Robert’s left knee. The stone wall touched his right. She changed position, folded her legs under her and their knees caressed.
“There’s an empty rice bag in the corner behind you,” she said. “Hang it in the opening so no light leaks out.”
He twisted around to do it.
“Do you think,” as if having difficulty expressing her thoughts, she paused and bit her lower lip, “that you would like to be my master? I mean, would you buy me?”
Robert reached for her hand again and held it between both of his. Her flesh was alive now, because she was trembling. “I want to talk about this another time?” Getting to know her was more important.
“I don’t have time,” she replied, and a tear escaped onto her cheek. “My father will decide soon to which man I will be sold. Do you work for Patridge?”
Robert shook his head. “No, I’m an interpreter, a provisional assistant at the British Consulate in Ningpo. Captain Patridge invited me to his home during the summer.”
“You don’t sell opium,” Ayaou said. “I like that. My father says opium is not good for people but times are bad. We have to survive. My father says Captain Patridge is interested in nothing but money.” She took her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you know that he keeps eight concubines in Shanghai and another four at the Lookong receiving station? I heard that when foreigners leave China, they sell their concubines to be whores.”
“I’ll never abandon you,” he said.
Her tears started to flow, and Robert’s heart went out to her. It took an effort for him not to make more promises he might not be able to keep.
“You’re a good man,” she said. “You risked your life to save us. No Chinese man or any other foreign devil would have done that. Boat people are unworthy. I want you to be my master. Have you got money?”
“Not enough to compete with men like Ward and Patridge.” He sounded frustrated.
“That’s too bad.” She started to cry in earnest now, and she sobbed.
He felt desire spreading through him. He pulled her closer. “But I want you to be mine. I’ll do anything.”
“Then you must hurry,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. Robert felt her hot tears against his face. The floor creaked above them and dust drifted down. Startled, they looked up and listened to the heavy footsteps.
Once it was quiet again, he turned back to her. “You must forgive me, because I’m going to kiss you,” he replied. They talked in whispers afraid someone might hear them.
She leaned away from him. “I’m not sure I will like that.” She pouted, and her lips looked inviting. “My father had me practice kissing by sucking a carrot.”
“A carrot.”
“Yes, he said barbarians liked it.”
“What did he mean?” Robert was having trouble swallowing. His heart was pounding like a drum ready to burst.
“He said the carrot is the barbarian’s tongue.”
“I see. So, you didn’t like it.” It was a struggle not to smile.
“No, my father ruined my appetite for carrots for good.”
“That’s a pity.” He almost laughed.
“How are you going to kiss me?”
“I’ll show you.”
“Do I have to suck?”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Her obvious innocence captivated him. He hoped that she was the woman he’d always dreamed of.
“That will be nice,” she said.
She jerked as Robert moved toward her. Her head ended in an awkward angle, and he kissed the side of her nose. Robert took her face between both his hands and held her still and kissed her again. Her lips were stiff and dry at first. After she relaxed, they were soft and warm and moist. The moment turned serious. When Robert slipped his tongue into her mouth, she gasped, and said, “I like it, Robert Hart.”
“Kiss me back,” he whispered.
She was cautious like a chick ready to leave its nest for the first time but once their lips met, she became the aggressor and her tongue the invader. His hands moved to her clothes. He peeled off the thin layers of silk. There was no resistance as he stripped her.
She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hands inside to explore his chest and back. Her eyes opened wide with surprise. She pushed away from him and stared at his chest. “So much hair,” she said. She ran her fingers through it. “It feels strange to touch and looks like dark grass.” She laughed and threw herself on top of him pushing him onto his back. She pressed her lips against his. Their tongues danced.
His hands explored her muscular, naked legs and ended on her bottom. There wasn’t much room, but he managed to pull off his shirt and crawl out of his pants and for an instant, their lips parted.
“Don’t stop,” she said, and fear flared in her eyes. Her voice sounded frantic and demanding. “Touch me everywhere.”
They rolled over, and their naked bodies mingled. He kissed her neck and ran his tongue along her smooth flesh. She tasted like the ocean.
“Make me yours before my father sells me,” she whispered.
Her words brought back reality. Her father was taking bids on her virginity. In a moment Robert was going to steal it. His conscience screamed no, but it could not fight his desire.
“Take me.” She begged and pulled him toward her.
“But your father ...”
“I want you, Robert Hart! Pity me! It’s my last wish before I’m sold. I will never forget how you carried my father to safety.” She sobbed and tears wet her face. “You’re making me a happy woman. My life is worth this moment.”
Heat flooded him. He held her with both hands while he grunted like a stag in rut. He thrust into her for a long time. After she gasped and her body convulsed, his orgasm quickly followed.
Once it was over, sweaty and exhausted, they slept in each other’s arms.
When Robert awoke, she was gone. He felt lost. For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it all, but the sexual scent of their encounter filled the space. He was glad that Guan-jiah had not been there watching from the shadows. It wouldn’t have been the same. He cradled the back of his head in his hands and stared at the ceiling basking in the memories of his time with Ayaou. His mood suddenly shifted to one of regret, and he was confused. Both Me-ta-tae and Willow had left him soon after making love too.
A deep stabbing pain blossomed in the center of his sternum. It hurt and he rubbed at it. He wanted to wake just once with the woman he’d made love to next to him? He wanted to sit up and study her sleeping face. He wanted to kiss her lips and light the fire again. Every sexual encounter he’d experienced since his first time at fifteen had ended the same way. Robert was sick of these brief interludes.
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