maripaz: As Rong Si’s mom finishes her narrative, she ends up revealing a bit more about Rong Si’s dad. And Rong Si is shown to have been perfect even as a baby! Read on to find out how Rong Si’s mom reacts to his wedding invitation and how she’s handled the estrangement. Just a note that there is cursing and “adult matters” (ie. intimacy) in the story below. ^_^ (but nothing explicit so… don’t get any hopes up!)
Part 4: Feifei confesses
I was a terrible mother. I am a terrible mom. I basically left my beautiful boy behind to look after himself with his emotionally devoid father. I loved him so much. Love him.
But where to begin? I’ve basically sat on and pushed away all my memories of him because, how could I think about it?
Every time I think about him, one memory pops out. I’m crying, again, the room is dark. I try to sob quietly, but Rong Si is so smart. Nothing gets past him, and he comes over, pats me on the back and gives me a tissue. He has the whole box next to him, already thinking ahead.
He is only six years old and should be playing or watching TV or being selfish, but here he is, taking care of his mom. His eyes are so clear and so innocent. They look pained. I gather myself together and tell him sometimes mama is just sad; it has nothing to do with him and he doesn’t have to make me feel better. It’s mommy’s job to figure out how to make me happy, and all Rong Si has to do is play and do well in school.
I look up at him, hopeful. Please listen to my words and don’t look at my actions. But it’s there. The mask. It slips onto his face and his smile is professional, but he hasn’t mastered the mask yet. His eyes have pain. “I know, mama. Don’t worry about me. The TV is on a commercial right now so I have time to come over. Here are the tissues. I can stay here if you’d like or I can go back to the TV.” He pauses and looks at me, unsure about what I want.
And then I lost it. I grabbed my boy and sobbed over his little shoulder. I gripped him tighter than I should have, thinking, “what the f*ck is wrong with me?!!!!! I’m going to ruin my little boy!!! He already has a mask, like his father. What if I undo the last 6 years I spent with him because I can’t get it together?!!!!”
I did get it together. I put on a smile. I made myself do mom things and thought back to how I used to act. We were all acting though. The harder I acted, the harder I wept later. And I couldn’t always keep it from him.
I did my best, but in the end, that crying scene would replay over and over. I stayed the same. Rong Si got better at comforting me, anticipating my needs. He was the perfect kid, never acting up, always polite and helpful. Sometimes I wanted to scream at him to break a rule or yell at me!, but that would make me even more crazy than I already was. So I accepted his care, and I did my best when I was “well” to be a mom again.
I love my baby, but he’s so much like his dad. How can they both be so perfect? I felt like I shouldn’t have been with him, but who would turn down Rong Cheng? I was shameless.
I was popular in high school, but Rong Cheng was a god. The god-like thing about him was that he didn’t even know he was a god. He thought he was just an average person like the rest of us. All the girls were in love with him, and I knew he was too good for me, and my family, but I was bold and had a western way of thinking. No harm in trying.
I knew his habits, of course, and knew he disappeared to the rooftop every so often. As chance would have it, I managed to catch him as he was escaping up there and just tagged along. I forced him to talk, and it worked.
I’ll never know. Maybe if another, more normal girl, had been the first to approach him, he would have imprinted onto her, but at the time, I didn’t think about it. I enjoyed our afternoons up there. I drank in his beautiful smile and felt terrible. I was so greedy hogging that handsome face all to myself. I should share, but whenever we were in the presence of other people, his pleasant mask would come out and nobody ever saw the real him.
He tried so hard to be cultivated, but actually, his real self was very down-to-earth. I guess he didn’t have to try to be cultivated; it came easily to him. But he was happiest mucking about with us regular people. He just never allowed himself to. He always held back; it was almost like he needed an excuse to be normal.
In high school, I’d play hooky with him, and my favorite times were when we just explored different neighborhoods. We would go to the countryside, and he’d strike up a conversation with all the old grandmas and grandpas. His face would open, and he’d want to know everything. At the fish market, he’d cozy up to everyone, even trying to learn the trade. It was almost like that prince and pauper story, where the prince plays the pauper and no one knows he’s the prince so he was free to be the pauper that could buddy-buddy with everyone. When we went back to school, it’s like a huge sigh would come over him like a blanket, and he’d put that oppressive air back on again. The one that said, “Keep your distance.”
In college, he was free from the yoke of his parents. He’d complain about his classmates and staff, and he was so biting in his comments! I had never seen this side of him because he tries to adhere to the “Don’t say bad things” rule, but with me, he let himself speak freely. He’d unleash a torrent and then start to look guilty and clam up. Then I’d look at him expectantly and he’d open up again. A string of incisive observations would come out, delivered sharply, and a bit abashedly.
I liked that Rong Cheng. I thought, at least, I can help him by giving him an outlet and allowing him to be normal. But then the moods happened.
I didn’t know what they were at first. I thought it was the heady freedom from college. No more drunk parents. I could draw all day, learn the art that I care about. I knew the crowd I hung out with was pretentious, and we did stupid things based on what we thought we were supposed to do as the “art crowd”, but there were genuinely nice people in there. In between the crazy stuff, I had real connections and intimate conversations with people who weren’t cowed by my looks or trying to get something from me. I actually liked them.
Sometimes I thought maybe it was too much, and I was secretly an introvert that needed time alone to recharge and reset. I took breaks, channeled my highs into my drawings. I told them I didn’t need drugs because when I got into these moods, I felt like I was flying. They probably thought I was on drugs because afterwards I would crash. I’d stay in my room and sob for days, and everyone thought I was in withdrawal or just being a drama queen.
Luckily, I was in the Arts where lots of people were drama queens. Or maybe not so luckily, because maybe in a normal world, people would have recognized how abnormal my behavior was and I could have realized sooner something was off.
At any rate, I didn’t know, and my life was slowly disintegrating in front of me. It didn’t happen all at once so I didn’t realize what was going on. The worse I got, the more Rong Cheng withdrew from me and perfected his mask. He didn’t complain about anything anymore because he didn’t want to surround me with anything negative or worry me in any way. When he came over, it was largely to take care of me in whatever mood I was in.
When I broke up with him, I saw the hurt and devastation in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, just accepted my decision with a sad closing of the door. I was so tired of feeling like a bad girlfriend to him, but seeing how he didn’t even put up a fight only solidified that I had made the right choice. I needed someone who would fight with me, for me.
I felt liberated at first. I didn’t have to be a goody-goody girlfriend anymore. I could be depressed and cry all I want without trying to get it together or do the right thing! But it wasn’t just the depression, which didn’t harm anyone. Without Rong Cheng to keep me in check, my highs got higher.
I had whole periods where I didn’t know what I had been doing. People would come up to me later with a big smile and a laugh, clap their hands on my back as if I had done something awesome, and I had no idea. What was I doing that was so fun?
One night, I “woke up” from one of these moods to discover that I was naked, in the freezing cold, on the roof of the science building. Everyone around me was laughing and applauding me, like I was doing something great, and I realized that they had no idea. They didn’t know I wasn’t in control, that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t want to be naked in the cold, dancing and laughing! Why was no one else joining me??! I was a spectacle, but I didn’t want to be.
I had my pride. I danced and played it off like all of a sudden, I wanted my clothes back on again. I feigned tiredness, and when I got back to my dorm, I sobbed like I had never sobbed before. I felt like I was heaving my guts out, like my soul was coming out, or already gone. I was a husk, to be taken over by some wanton spirit every so often, a grim fairy who looked beautiful and cute in the light but had dark eyes and sharp teeth close up.
I didn’t think anything through. I was vaguely aware that I was in the beginning of another crying spell, one that felt like it would be bad and worse than anything before (I was already starting to sense a pattern, however unconsciously). I made my way to Rong Cheng’s like the shameless woman that I am, and I begged him to take me back.
He was always so great. He took me back without question. He nursed me through that dark spell in the way that only he can. And I vowed to be docile and follow the Rong Cheng way. This was the way to survive. Of course, the god’s path was the right one all along.
Somehow I graduated. Somehow he wanted to get married to me, and we did. I invited my parents for one last time to our wedding to save face with Rong Cheng’s family, and then I cut off all contact with them after.
Sex with Rong Cheng was great, if a bit boring, although sometimes he was surprising. But what was not surprising was that I got pregnant pretty quickly after we got married. The man hid a large appetite underneath all that suppression.
With the birth of Rong Si, the fog lifted for me, and I found life again. I poured myself into his little life. I could be whimsical and play, and he was so perfect. He was so clever too, but what I loved best was how he loved me unconditionally. His face would light up when he saw me first thing in the morning. His little arms would wrap around me so willingly.
I didn’t raise him the normal chinese way of not saying I love you. I showered him with love.
And that was why when I saw that mask come up because of my moods, something in me broke. At the end, he was his father, and I knew this was the beginning of a distance between me and him.
I played along with it, patted his head when he acted so politely and perfectly. I allowed myself to act whimsically, like I did before, and indulged him when he looked at me as if I were the child. It was such a delicate balance. We all wanted so much to be normal.
Then Rong Cheng made the suggestion to take art classes to try to give me a break or a hobby. I met Yitu and tried so hard to deny my feelings for him. When Rong Cheng gave me the go-ahead to keep liking him, I felt by turns elated and so guilt-ridden.
Then he said we could get a divorce, and he supported me going to Cheng Yitu. I knocked on Cheng Yitu’s door, only to hear about his AIDS diagnosis. When I took care of him, I first continued to live at home and would go to his house every day. Then his condition worsened, and I took Rong Si aside. I told him mommy’s friend was very sick and asked if I could stay over at my friend’s place to take care of him.
Of course, he said, “I know.” !! He looked at me with genuine concern and said, “Ma, go take care of your friend, and don’t worry about us. Dad and I can take care of ourselves.” He gave me a smile, a real smile, and then uncharacteristically moved in for a hug. I could feel him smiling against my hair, and I felt the tears come up again. I looked at my son and wiped my tears. “Thank you, Rong Si. You’re the best, just like your dad. You are your father’s son.” I hugged him again and told him I loved him. “I know,” came his reply.
Yitu hung on for longer than I had imagined. By the time his death and funeral had ended, I had not been home for many years. At first I did still stop by the house every so often, but the more time I spent with Yitu, the less I wanted to go home. It felt wrong there, and fake, whereas I was flourishing at Yitu’s.
When he finally passed away, I knew I had to go back. My respite was over. On the way home, I saw Rong Si and Rong Cheng at a nearby basketball court. They must have just finished playing a game because they were sweating and sitting on a bench, nursing some water.
My curiosity got the better of me, and I inched closer, hiding myself in the bushes.
“Dad,” Rong Si finally said. “Why don’t you take that travel job you wanted?”
Travel job??
“Should I?” Rong Cheng replied. “What about you?”
“I still have one more year left before I can stay over at school, but if you time it so that you’re here for parent teacher conferences, I think it might be OK. I can get food, and clean, and Grandpa and Grandma are around if there’s an emergency. My grades are good so the school should not bother you about anything.”
Rong Cheng chuckled. His face was the most relaxed I had ever seen, or remembered. “You want the house to yourself, huh?” He looked at Rong Si, and Rong Si smiled back. No mask between these two.
“OK. I’ll take it. I can set up my own schedule so I’ll be here for parent teacher conferences and holidays. I will only take small, local trips this year, and we’ll see how it goes. Next year when you’re boarding at your high school, we can talk about me taking longer trips abroad.”
The smile shared between the two was so open and sincere. I ran away in shame. Look how happy they were without me, how well they got along. Travel job? How did I not realize this before? Rong Cheng had taken that boring desk job for me, to give me stability and care for our family. I had stultified him with my craziness.
That day, I walked away and never looked back. Rong Cheng had my number and my address, in case he ever needed to reach me. I declined his offer for a divorce for Rong Si’s sake. He still had to move about in society. And then I wrote one last letter to Rong Si telling him a lie that caring for my friend was turning all consuming and that I may not have time to write anymore. I signed it, “Love, Mom” and trusted that he knew what a coward I was, that I wasn’t abandoning him because I didn’t love him but because I was not worthy.
I put them out of my mind, and in picking up Yitu’s life, I filled my own with genuine happiness and peace. I know I’m a coward, but I also know that this shame and secret gives me vulnerabilities that make people open up to me and trust me. I can be a better mentor because of it. And I am very good at making excuses for myself.
After so many years of being a bad mom and not having contact, it is that much harder to reach out and face up to what I’ve done. But here’s my boy reaching out himself with no judgment.
A little note was attached to the wedding invitation.
Dear Mom,
We hope this is the correct address to reach you. I am with a woman I want to marry, and we’d like to meet with you before our wedding; I have shared with her the happy memories I have of you. I can be reached at xx-xx-xx and xxx@xxx if you’d like to set up a meeting time. If you prefer not to meet with us or attend the wedding, that is OK too. We know we have your blessings.
Best wishes and good health Mom.
Your son,
Rong Si
He understands. So how could I not? I reach for the phone. Thank you, Rong Si.
maripaz: Thus ends the story behind Rong Si’s parents, or at least, to the point that the original novel had hinted at: estranged parents who were not divorced and a dad still hopelessly in love. Feifei’s story didn’t seem complete though so there’s one more epilogue to give her some closure.
[Part 3] [Table of Contents] [Part 5]
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