Vignette 7

Chicago (II)

Arthor：Judith Lau

From the age of 4 to 7 in Chicago, I recall happy outings and evenings when mother and father entertained friends and Chinese students (僑生)from the Illinois regional universities with communal dumpling making sessions (包餃子) followed by lively all night poker and exhilarating conversation on the promising war front news culminating in VE on May 8 and VJ August 10 in 1945!

 

Tung Tso-pin(董作賓),  the scholar on Oracle Bones (甲⻣文) was one of our frequent visitors. Uncle Tung was a professor of Graduate Studies at the U Chicago Archaeology Department. Uncle Tung was single at that time and often lonely. He also didn't speak English which puzzled me as to how he could teach when he didn't speak English. Father explained that graduate Archaeology students on Oracle Bones were fluent in Chinese so Prof. Tung did not need to speak English. Our living and dining room provided many hours of conversation and sustenance for Uncle Tung. Of the many of my parents' friends, some were distinguished scholars or important political figures and I remember but a few. But I do remember Uncle Tung quite well. Not only did he spend much time with us in Chicago, he remained good friends with my parents and visited us in Taipei and Manila. He was soft spoken with a square face and head of thick hair. His research would become one of the most significant contributions to the study of Oracle Bones of pre-historic Chinese civilization from 1400 BC. Much of our current understanding of China's earliest writing, daily customs and political events have been gleaned from the painstaking scholarship of specialists such as Tung Tso-pin.

 

In Chicago, Mother had taught herself cooking and housekeeping after a lifetime of servants. Her nimble rolling pin produced 100's of dumpling wrappers (餃子皮) outpacing a room full of helpful fingers and salivating mouths hungry for non-chop-suey home cooking. It was during these marathon dumpling sessions in Chicago that I watched and learned mother's dumpling techniques (擀餃子皮)of rolling round dough wrappers with thin edges and thicker centers. It is a convivial tradition which I have now passed on to my grand daughter, Sabrina.

 

During those Chicago years, mother adjusted to housework, managing 2 young children and a part time business venture but lost over 15 lbs, dropping from a robust 105 lbs to a fragile frame of 88 lbs. One day, I heard mother screaming. I rushed to the back porch and saw mother frantically groping for the cord to the electric automatic washing machine. Her long hair was caught between the two squeegee rollers when she was feeding the wet clothes from the main tub of paddled water into the attachment rollers on the rim to wring out the water. Mother had the presence of mind to yank out the electrical cord from the socket but lost handfuls of hair. After that painful episode, mother tied up her hair during housework.

 

My father didn't learn to boil water or an egg until he was in his 80's. My only recollection of father at a household duty was when I watched with horror and fascination, father's vigil over a large barrel of water on the back porch. In a deep tub of water, scores of flailing rodents slowly drowned. Father's traps for our rat infested apartment would clear out the pests for a few months before another round of torturous barrel executions would be conducted. Mother could not bear to bait nor watch this extermination process but neither could she tolerate the invasion of rats and mice into our habitat. I began kindergarten in the fall of 1944 at the Fiske Public School a few blocks from our apartment under the name "Ying Ying Tien". In 1944, there were no other Chinese students in my class or elementary school. After the first few weeks in September, my mother was summoned by my teacher to warn her that my lack of English would require that I repeat kindergarten the following year. My mother recalls she merely smiled and assured the teacher not to worry, "My daughter will not fail". Certainly, by the end of the semester, I was keeping up with the class. I could understand the burly white crossing guard policeman who embarrassingly called out to me daily "Hey Ying-a-Ling, Ding-a-Ling, how is my little China doll, today?"

 

The big white policeman become more of a comforting presence when a 6 year old girl of my age named Suzanne was abducted through her bedroom window in her parents' 2nd floor apartment. Over several weeks, my school mates would portentously report each time Suzanne's dismembered head, then torso, an arm, a leg were discovered in various sewer pipes around her neighborhood. Naturally I was petrified and would not sleep next to the window though I shared my parents' bedroom with my brother. Peering into the darkness outside the window, I would imagine the killer stalking our apartment for little girls. My parents tried various ploys to assure me; that we were on the 3rd floor and that Suzanne lived way across town in the tony North Side.

 

One night I woke up to total silence. There was no familiar murmurs of adult conversation nor radio broadcasts. Wandering through the empty apartment, I became more and more panicked, squalling loudly till I woke up my brother in his crib who was barely 2. I was certain the killer had taken my parents. I half carried and dragged my toddler brother out of his crib, stumbling into the stairwell wailing as loud as I could. Our next door neighbor came out and took us into their apartment and quieted us with ice cream. Not too long later, my parents came rushing up the stairs and abashedly took us home. They comforted me by reminding me of the presence of the nice policemen who watched our block. A few months later, a man by the name of Heirens, a 17 year old U Chicago student was apprehended as the serial killer who had murdered 2 adult women and little Suzanne.

 

After that evening, every day I felt much gratitude toward the burly cop in the blue uniform at our school crossing. I happily smiled at him and didn't mind him calling out anymore "Hey Ying-a-ling, Ding-a-ling! How's my lit- tle China doll today?" My parents never left us alone at home again - at least that I knew of.

 

That name "Herens" had stuck with me through my life. In March 2012, I read that a convicted serial killer, William Heirens had died in prison. The ghastly bogeyman, having served 65 years for his crimes, was finally dead.

 

When mother attempted to start an import-export business in Chicago to augment father's meager salary, she was hard put to entrust my brother and I somewhere safe when she went to work. Mother decided the neighborhood movie theater was the safest and cheapest place. During summer school break, for the price of a cheap double feature matinee, my brother and I would sit through 4 hours of movies ranging from lighthearted musicals such as "Meet me in St. Louis", "Till the Clouds Roll By" to the terrifying horror movies "Frankenstein", "The Mummy" and ghostly "The Uninvited" that haunted me well into my adulthood.

 

This movie avocation with mother continued through my teens. We attended movies at the grand Earnie Pyle Theater in Tokyo. In Manila, mother would often take my brother and me for an afternoon film outing followed by an ice-cream banana split topped with chocolate syrup, whipped cream and chopped nuts. I remember this to be my favorite dessert. My father was drawn to the cafeteria style automatic food dispensers. The bountiful and cheap American diner food in Chicago tasted hearty and delicious after the meager hunger years in Chungking. In my parents' later diplomatic career they often hearkened back to the simple diner food of their nostalgic Chicago interlude. During their visits to me in the US, we would forage cafeteria food for meat loaf, pot roast, mashed potatoes for father and for mother's favorites: salads, pizza and apple pie. However, I could never quite find the food to replicate my parents' memories of Chicago's tasty cafeteria food of those war years. The ups and downs of life, good and bad times came and went for my parents but some sweet memories are lasting.

 

"No matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car." – August Strindberg.

 

 

 

芝加哥之二

我的三歲到七歲是在芝加哥度過的，記憶中最開心的莫過於與父母外出，或者晚上請朋友或附近大學的留學生一起包餃子，然後一起打撲克牌，暢談當時逐漸取得優勢的戰爭局勢，尤其是1945年5月8日的歐戰勝利和8月15日的對日勝利，更教大家興奮不已。

甲骨文大師董作賓常常到我們家裡，他是芝加哥大學考古系客座教授。董伯伯那時候單身，也不說英文，我覺得很奇怪，不說英文怎麼教學生。父親說，芝大去上董伯伯甲骨文的研究生都會講中文，所以董伯伯不需要說英文。我們家客廳和餐廳經常有董伯伯的身影，跟著我們一起吃飯談天，不亦樂乎。父親結識許多傑出學者和重要的政治人物，我認識的並不多，但我很清楚記得董伯伯，不只是因為在芝加哥時，他常跟我們一起，和父母成為很好的朋友，後來還到台北和馬尼拉看我們。他很溫和，臉方方的，頭髮濃密。董作賓對甲骨文研究和中國史前史文化有非常重要的貢獻。

在芝加哥時，媽媽負責持家，對於做菜無師自通。面對一屋子等著吃一頓「家常便飯」的客人，她可以用擀麵棍迅速靈巧地擀出100張餃子皮，給一堆等著包餃子的幫手。母親對於擀餃子皮特別在行，可以一個人應付六、七個幫手需要的量。我就是在芝加哥的時候看著母親神奇的手藝，慢慢學會了擀餃子皮，中間要厚，旁邊要薄，我現在還把這個家傳的技巧教給了我的孫女Sabrina.

父親一直不曾插手廚房的事，到八十歲才學會煮開水和煎蛋。我唯一記得父親和家事有關的一件事就是處理家中抓到的老鼠，他在後院盯著一大桶水，看著被捕的老鼠慢慢沉下，這一幕水淹老鼠總讓看得我毛骨悚然。我們住的公寓鼠輩猖狂，父親只好設餌捕捉，抓到老鼠以後，他得負責善後處理。之後總會安靜幾個月，不久之後老鼠又開始肆虐，父親就重新使出殺手鐧。母親無法忍受以餌設陷阱捕捉老鼠，也不敢看最後的行刑過程，但她也無法忍受老鼠在我們的住家橫行無忌。

1944年秋天，我開始去家裡不遠的費斯克公立小學 (Fiske Public School) 上幼稚園，入學的時候我的名字是”Ying Ying Tien”. 那個時候無論我的班級或整個學校都沒有中國學生。上課幾個星期之後，母親被請到學校，老師告訴她我的英文那麼差，可能第二年還得重讀。母親說當時她只笑了笑，請老師放心:「我女兒不會留級的。」她說的沒錯，我趕上了大家的腳步，甚至也聽懂了那位指揮交通的白人警察大聲說: "Hey Ying-a-Ling,  Ding-a-Ling, how is my little China doll, today?"(「嘿，英-啊-鈴，叮-啊-鈴，我的中國小娃娃今天怎麼樣啊?」)，令我覺得很尷尬。

可是後來這位白人警察卻成了我心安的寄託。我六歲時，一個跟我同年的女孩蘇珊被綁架，是從她們二樓公寓的窗子把人綁走。接連好幾個星期陸續同學報告說，在附近某個排水管發現蘇珊被割下的頭顱，之後是軀幹、一隻手、一隻腳…。這些訊息讓我十分驚恐不安，晚上雖然和父母、弟弟同睡一個臥房，我不敢靠近窗邊。偶爾瞥見窗外漆黑一片，總會想像兇手偷偷走近我家，想要綁走小女孩。父母親想盡各種說詞來安慰我，比方說，我們住的是三樓，或者蘇珊住的北邊離我們很遠之類的，都無法消除我的恐懼。

有天夜裡我突然驚醒，發現屋裡鴉雀無聲，沒有大人低聲交談，也沒有收音機的聲音。我慌張地在屋裡找了一圈，看不到任何人，嚇得放聲大哭，弄醒了睡在小床上，兩歲的弟弟。我猜想一定是殺手把爸爸媽媽抓走了，我一邊哭，一邊把弟弟從小床上拉出來，跌跌撞撞走下樓，使盡所有力氣嚎啕大哭。隔壁的鄰居跑出來把我們帶進他們家，用冰淇淋安撫我們姐弟。不久之後父母急忙趕來，很不好意思地把我們帶回家。他們安慰我，提醒我說，我們這一區有那位警察伯伯幫我們看著，所以不必害怕。幾個月之後，一個17歲的芝加哥大學學生威廉．海瑞斯 (William Heirens) 被捕，他就是殺了兩名婦女和蘇珊的連環殺手。

從那天之後，我好感激那個穿著藍色制服在校門口指揮交通的警察，我開心地對他微笑，再也不介意他衝著我叫： "Hey Ying-a-Ling,  Ding-a-Ling, how is my little China doll, today?"

我一輩子都記得兇手海瑞斯的名字。2012年3月，我看到新聞報導，連環殺手威廉．海瑞斯死於監獄。那個恐怖的殺人魔在獄中65年之後，終於死了。

父親的薪水微薄，母親做點進出口生意增加一點收入，我們放假時她最頭痛的就是如何安置我和弟弟。權衡之下，她覺得我們家附近最安全最便宜的地方就是電影院，尤其日場雙片連映的票價很便宜。於是放暑假時，我和弟弟就連著看四小時的電影，從輕鬆的音樂片，如《相逢聖路易》 (Meet me in St. Louis)、《雲開見月明》 (Till the Clouds Roll By)，到恐怖片《科學怪人》(Frankenstein)、《木乃伊》(The Mummy)之類的片子，甚至還有像《不速之客》(The Uninvited) 那樣的鬼片，讓我一直到長大以後餘悸猶存。

一直到我十幾歲，母親仍舊很喜歡帶著我們看電影。我們在東京時，最常去寶塚大劇院看。在馬尼拉時，母親帶我和弟弟看下午場，然後去吃香蕉船冰淇淋，上面有巧克力糖漿、鮮奶油、碎堅果仁，那是我最愛的甜點。父親一直很喜歡當時美國流行的自動販賣式餐廳，一整牆的小長方格櫛比鱗次，置放各式各樣的食物，價格相當便宜。在重慶時，我們節衣縮食，到了芝加哥這類餐廳，父親吃的特別滿足。父親後來派駐各地，但最懷念的還是芝加哥那幾家簡便的餐廳，可以自取自足，大快朵頤。每回父母到美國看我的時候，我們也會四處搜尋這種自動販賣式餐廳，父親選取他愛吃的大塊肉、燉肉、馬鈴薯泥，母親挑她最愛的沙拉、比薩、蘋果派。但無論怎麼找，我們都覺得不如戰時芝加哥的那種味道。人生的浮沉起落、悲喜苦樂，或許如雲如煙，匆匆即逝，但是甜美的記憶永遠不會消散。

「無論旅行的路途多麼遙遠，回憶就像裝載行李的車廂，緊緊相隨。」--桑德堡。