The Night before My Marriage The piece of writing below is my very first short story written in 2001. You may also find it in CU Writing in English Volume One . I hope that you will enjoy it!
The Night before My Marriage
Everything has been settled and confirmed: the wedding gown, decoration of the new flat, air tickets to Swiss and other trivialities. A month has already passed for such preparations, which seems only a week. Everyone congratulates me on the marriage with Ka Ming. He is highly appraised as a perfect man endowed with wealth, reputation, gentleness, intelligence and good sense of humour.
Yes, he is wealthy and famous. Yes, he always concerns himself about me. Yes, he is clever and humorous. Yes, he must be a good husband. Tomorrow, I will be the wife of a perfect man who I deserve. I tell myself.
Looking at every corner of my flat, I find it unreasonably new to me. I am just like a stranger in the place; everyone is just moving around squeakily and working on something busily without noticing my presence. Their fascinating smiles are so queer that I can hardly understand.
��Louisa, do you know what I've found? The autograph album of our school! I've lost it already la!�� Ka Ka says happily. She walks towards me from the bedroom slowly and begins to glance through the album. When she turns to one of the pages, she stops and stares at a photo on it. A photo that I took with Ah Tung after we won the overall champion of the inter-school volleyball competition in 1995, during which he became everyone's idol. Her smile begins to fade away. ��I had come across him in Tsim Sha Tsui yesterday. He said he wouldn't go back to the US, coz he couldn't find a job there...�� She says gingerly.
��Or.��
��...I told him about your marriage.�� She utters with a very low voice that I almost cannot hear her.
��I see.�� I reply frigidly. It is the only appropriate response that I should have.
Seeing my indifference, she draws a big sigh and eases herself by leaning against the cupboard.��Believe me, Ka Ming will be a very good husband.�� She pats my shoulder and says.
��Thanks. Ka Ka...thanks a lot.�� I reply with a smile.
��I go and see if they need any help.�� She smiles too. A very sweet smile. Then she walks back to the bedroom with a light pace.
Seeing the door of the bedroom closed behind her little figure, I drag myself to the balcony and lean against the fence. The distance between my flat and the apartment opposite is too narrow that the sky above looks like an elongated belt. I try to peep at it through such an impenetrable gap. It is very clear and full of stars. They seem to foretell that I am going to have a happy marriage.
It was a typical summer day in May. The sky was cloudy and dull for all day. I would not be astonished that it would finally burst itself open and throw up everything in its throat. But I could not stay away from that possible storm; I had to go here and there with mama to prepare for my father's funeral. Though uncle David did offer some help, mama insisted on handling all sorts of things by ourselves. She was really a strong figure. I had never seen her cry for papa's death. What she had done after his death was just to console me.
After we had booked the funeral parlor, mama asked me to go home first and took a good rest. When I went home, I walked unconsciously towards the bench in the living room and sat on it. It had used to be a very small bench. Whenever papa and mama had sat on it, it had just been impossible for me to sit with them. As a result, papa had to give a seat to me and sat on a stool himself. But this day, I found it strangely wide and too vacant to sit on.
No sooner had tears streamed down my cheeks than the phone rang.
��Hallo.�� I picked up the phone and said.
��Louisa?�� It was a hoarse, yet soft voice, a voice that I had missed so long.
��Tung? Where have you been? I've been looking for you these few weeks!�� I almost burst into tears again while talking with him. ��Papa--��
��I'm at the store downstairs, could you come down first?��
��Okay.�� I obeyed him, though I was a bit hurt by his interruption.
Regarding him as the greatest comfort, I ran downstairs to meet him.
��Tung--��
��Louisa,�� he hugged me and said happily. ��I've got a good news to tell you!��
��What's that?�� I suppressed my sadness and asked.
��I am finally permitted to migrate to the US. I had been there last few weeks for observation. It's absolutely promising for both living and for my career!�� He said with total joy. ��I will go there next month.��
��Next month?�� I asked with agony. ��Can you go a little bit later? I just--��
��I've already told you that I must go away, haven't I? There's no future here!�� He answered with an exaggerated voice. ��Believe me. When everything is settled down. I'll send you there with me.��
��Louisa, what are you doing here? Why don't you stay with your friends? You will easily catch cold by staying outside.�� A gentle voice goes into my ears, which sounds like a voice coming from the heaven and wakes me from desperate memories.
��Mama. I'm going to get married...am I supposed to be happy?�� It seems that I have asked a silly question and I regret to do so at once.
��Why do you say so?�� She asks surprisingly.
��Mama...do you...er...did you love papa?�� God! Another silly question!
The kind smile fades away from her immediately. Sometimes, a mother who understands her daughter so well or otherwise can be a trouble to the latter.
��For a marriage, and a woman, whether you love the person or not isn't that important. Only that he treats you well is already okay.�� She says indifferently. ��Your father always treated us well and ranked us in the first place of his heart. He was a very responsible father, and husband, of course. That't enough!��
Maybe she is right. Papa never scolded us for anything. No matter how serious mistakes we had made, he just solved the problems for us without any condemnation. I recall the memory that papa, in order to spend more time on staying with us, had given up an opportunity to work overseas, where he could earn more money and have a better career. I can hardly find anyone who can be compared to papa. Neither Ka Ming nor anyone I've met can take papa's position in my mind.
Suddenly, Uncle David's image appears in my mind. I can't help inquiring her greedily, ��how about Uncle David? I think he treated you well too!��
I remember well that when papa died, Uncle David had been the most helpful person, who helped us to settle all things from choosing coffin to looking for suitable funeral parlor. Even till now, he still occasionally sets aside little time out of his tight schedule to see if we need any help.
��...I will never be the most important ��business�� in his mind, careers, religion, reputation-all come before me...�� she answers with a sigh. ��If you really want to meet him, you almost have to make an appointment with his secretary!��
��You know, it's a matter of ��to love��, or ��to be loved��. If I could choose again, I would still choose the later one...��
��To be loved��...a very familiar term...not long ago, which in fact seems to be a century long, Ah Tung told me that someone loved him so much that he was unable to abandon her, so he chose to leave me, whose love, he said, was in no way compared to hers. What kind of measurement or comparison is it?
��Can reasoning really works in love?�� I ask, as if a child is asking for something that already has an absolute answer.
��At least you will not get hurt in any case. Women should look for ways to protect themselves.�� Her face suddenly turns into a big beam, which seems like an awkward distortion. ��Don't think of such things anymore. It's your own decision to marry Ka Ming. Nobody forces you...be a faithful wife, he will absolutely endear you, and never hurt you.�� She hugs me and goes to her bedroom with her slender, lonely shadow.
��Never hurt me��...Yes. After Ah Tung left me, what I have tried very best is not to get hurt, and to live a better life-at least better than his, so as to make him regret...I do absolutely choose a right person to be my husband. I DO.
Finding myself going too far, I try to put all thoughts aside by shrugging my shoulders and looking at the sky, which keeps itself taciturn all night long.
Suddenly, the phone rings, which breaks the absolute silence of the living room. I walk towards the living room with my heavy steps and picks up the phone.
��Hallo.��
��May I speak to Louisa, please?�� It is a hoarse, yet soft voice, such an unforgettable voice.
��Yes, speaking.�� I try to shorten my speech as possible as I can.
��Hey, long time no see!�� It seems that he tries to moderate his awkwardness by laughing it off. ��I've heard that you're going to get married, aren't you?��
Ha! He is coming to the point.
��Yes. Tomorrow.�� God! I can hardly organize my speech.
��I'm at the store downstairs, could you come down and see me?�� He requests gravely.
��No. It's not PROPER to do so.�� I refuse resolutely. Some mysterious feelings are whirling in my heart.
��I know...but please, Louisa, just give me a few minutes to talk to you, PLEASE!��
Ha! What an earnest plea! Louisa, you deserve! Louisa, you've won!
The whole world seems to be covered with total darkness and a deadly silence. I can hardly see anything around me, or can I hear the squeaky voices of my friends in my bedroom. I can only hear my heartbeats, such unrhythmic riots of victory and loss--