Family History

My father left when I was one,
Or maybe two - I don't recall,
I have no memory of him now,
No memory then, now none at all. 
 

It didn't seem important then

I had my mother, she had me,

And Uncle George would call each day,

Call by most nights, and stay for tea.

 

I wasn't even curious,

My world was perfect as it was,

We lived beside a village green

And travelled by the village bus.

 

Our house was large, a mansion set

In Parklands, much too large for us,

Whole wings were closed and boarded in,

My mother said, 'it makes less fuss!'

 

It wasn't 'til I went to school

That doubts arose about my kin,

The boys would taunt and tease me there,

Would comment on my yellow skin.

 

They called me 'Squinty' for my eyes,

They looked so different then, to them,

My hair was black and very straight:

'You'll never make an Englishman!'

 

I asked my mother why I looked

So different, just like chalk and cheese,

She smiled and held me close to her,

And said: 'Your father was Chinese!'

 

'I met him through your Uncle George,

They served together in some war,

He charmed me once, but then he left,

Went off to fight for Chiang-Kai-shek.'

 

'I thought that he'd return one day

But truth to tell, he never did,

I heard that he'd been killed before

The White Army had turned and fled.'

 

She mentioned words I'd never heard

'Formosa', 'Tao' and 'Mao Zedong',

'Long March', 'Red Army', words that I

Remembered when no longer young.

 

I grew determined then to seek

The truth behind my history,

To find my father, where he lay,

Tear back the shroud of mystery.

 

'Don't do it, son,' said Uncle George,

'Leave sleeping dogs to sleep the day,

For once you rouse them, sleeping dogs

Will never cease to bark and bay.'

 

'He's right,' my mother said, her mouth

Was set, and she looked awful grim,

'You'll bring the terrors of the night

Down on us, if you look for him!'

 

My mind was set, I disagreed,

With all the folly of the young,

I thought that I could spend my need

And so made plans to see Taiwan.

 

I only got as far as London,

There I went to the G.R.O.,

Asked for the Births and Deaths they kept

To settle the questions I should know.

 

But when the book was placed before me

Words - they swam before my eyes,

The father stated at my birth

Was George Hubertus Syndon Wise!

 

I faltered then, and nearly fell

My heart it plunged to the floor, and then,

The mother plainly written there

Was one they called Wang Shu Qian.

 

My legs were weak, I barely stood,

My father was an Englishman,

I took a breath and walked the street...

My mother, a daughter of the Han.

 

I went back home to the mansion then

Ignored my mother upon the stairs,

Headed right up to the West Wing floor

They had boarded and banned me from, for years.

 

Tore the boards from the door and entered,

Thought I would find just cobwebs there,

But saw bright lights, and heard soft music,

A woman sat in an old wing chair.

 

I knew, the moment those almond eyes

Met mine, I looked on my mother then,

The tears ran down from her high cheek bones

To stain her dress, Wang Shu Qian.

 

She'd lived forever behind these doors

All boarded in for a secret's sake,

And George had been with her, now and then

My father, living his life - a fake!

 

But all about there were artifacts,

Screens and parchments and vellum scripts,

Priceless furniture, paintings, figures,

Dragons, pearls, and the odd Phoenix.

 

George came stumbling up the stairs

His face dead white when he saw me there,

'My boy... I told you...' he said, then stopped

As grey ran worrying through his hair.

 

The hoard was that from a Chinese palace,

Wang Shu Qian was a keeper there,

They'd fled the rape of the communists

Taken their baggage with Chiang Kai shek.

 

'When things are settled we'll give it back,'

My mother told me in Pu Tong Hua,

George translated her every sentence,

Love shone out from his eyes for her.

 

'Her name is top of their wanted list,

They hired assassins to search for her,

We thought it best to concoct those lies

To protect you from the world out there.'

 

My sister took on the role of mother,

You were only a baby then,

While Shu Qian despaired to hold you,

Show you love as her only son.

 

The hoard has since been returned to China,

Both my mothers live openly now,

I've been taking a course in language

Coming to grips with Pu Tong Hua.

 

My family history seems complete,

I know as much as I need to know,

The dogs are sleeping, skeletons rest

And I won't disturb their sleep - No How!

 

David Lewis Paget

 

(Note: The Chinese pronounce Chiang Kai shek

as Jiang kuh sher.

Pu Tong Hua = Pu Tong Hwa = Beijing Dialect.

Wang Shu Qian = Wong Shoe Chee-en).

Reviews

[Silent Kim aka mizmetap..]

Interesting, you have a vault of knowledge in your head. Creative work as always.

[raining]

like reading a book or two. very good and unique. very very good. two verys.

[C.T. Bailey]

It is with an eloquent pen you weave such delicate tales. I always enjoy reading about the mixing of cultures in your work. You have so much fun writing these magnanimous cultural works. They always seem to educate as much as they entertain. I don't see you write in quatrain very often. It is a nice detour for your style. Hope you have had a good holiday...
Todd

[Valentine]

David, I know your eyes do not slant from your pictures but is this one of your base on fact tales or something that you just thought up? You are so great at story telling I know you bring in history with most of your stories and you lived in China for some time..Born in England now living in Australia and a mind that amazes me for remembering so much..Another great tale..you really know how to keep a reader on their toes..lol and God bless you and your wife..Valentine

[Wildfleour]

What a story!

Merry Christmas, David!

[Norma J. Jessee]

You never fail to amaze and delight me. I love your story telling. You have an amazing way of telling a story that brings on emotions and that to me is what makes a writer great. It is what I have always stived to do and well I've never reached that stage but you have and you are truly a master at what you do.

Great work David.
Fantastic Story.