Along the River (5 page)

When I was five years old, Teacher Lai gave Gege and me a separate notebook each, together with a little brush. He told us to make drawings of our daily life and write a verse or story to describe them. Since Gege prefers to draw, while I like to write, his book is full of images, whereas mine is full of words.

DR. ALLEN
: So you like to write… but you also like looking at paintings, don’t you, Mei Lan? Tell me about the painting of
Along the River at Qing Ming
. Why is that painting so special?

CC/MEI LAN
(becoming agitated): No, no! Don’t ask me about the painting. It’s our secret. Only Ah Zhao knows about the painting… and Gege… Gege, please don’t say anything. You promised not to tell anyone! They’ll stop us. I need to go.… I need to run, but I can’t.… The market is so crowded I can’t get away. Where’s David? I need to get back to Grandma Wu.

DR. ALLEN
: Calm down, CC. We won’t remember anything you don’t want to. Just relax and let your mind go blank again. I want you to stop remembering for a while.…

The voices on the recorder stopped, but the machine kept whirring while Richard Allen sat lost in thought. Finally, he fed some paper into the typewriter on his desk and began to type.

Case History of CC by Dr. Richard Allen, MD.
CC (Chinese name: Ye Xian
is a twelve-year-old Chinese girl who suffered severe head injury after a fall from a height of thirty feet. After regaining consciousness, she developed symptoms of headaches, insomnia and anxiety as well as feelings of déjà vu and amnesia. She had difficulty recalling her name, family history and recent events, but identified strongly with a famous painting of the Northern Song Dynasty titled
Along the River at Qing Ming
. In an attempt to relieve CC’s neurological symptoms, I began to administer hypnotherapy treatments. During her first hour under hypnosis, CC claimed to be a young girl named Zhang Mei Lan, living during the Song Dynasty.
I recorded and transcribed CC’s words under hypnosis, and will continue to do so. At the conclusion of her treatments, I will allow CC to hear Zhang Mei Lan’s story in the hope that it will give her insight into her condition, rid her of her headaches and enable her to make a total and complete recovery.

A Real Awakening

A
fter this first hypnotherapy session, CC slept like a baby right through the night. Even better, the next day she was free from headaches for the first time since awakening from her coma.

Grandma Wu began to hope that all might be well. “Perhaps now she might start to recover and be her old self again,” she said to Dr. Allen.

“It’s certainly a good beginning,” Dr. Allen said. “But I think you should listen to this, Madame Wu.” And he played her the recording of CC talking as Mei Lan.

Grandma Wu sat and listened in silence. “I don’t understand. Has the fall damaged her brain in some way? Does she really think she is this girl Mei Lan? How does she know so much about the customs of the time?”

Dr. Allen shrugged his shoulders. “We understand so little about the workings of the mind. CC may have damaged a part of her brain called the temporal lobe during her fall. She could also be imagining all this, remembering things she has read or heard in the past.”

Grandma Wu thought for a while. “Of course, it’s also possible that CC is genuinely recalling events from a previous life. The fall might somehow have caused her to experience a real awakening and remember a past life in a way that most people cannot.”

Dr. Allen smiled. “You know that reincarnation is not believed by most Westerners.”

Grandma Wu nodded. “Just because people don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

Dr. Allen glanced at his notes. “I think we need to find the cause of CC’s obsession with that Song Dynasty painting and what she—or at least Mei Lan—is running away from. I can’t help feeling that the answers to her illness lie within that particular painting. I would like, with your permission, Madame Wu, to keep CC here and continue treating her with hypnotherapy until she recovers completely.”

Grandma Wu agreed. “The treatment you gave her yesterday certainly helped her sleep. Besides, CC is not fit enough to travel yet. I believe you have her best interests at heart, Dr. Allen, so we are in your hands.”

For the next two weeks, CC stayed at the hospital and continued her sessions with Dr. Allen. Each day she grew a little stronger and happier. Although the dreams troubled her less and less, she continued to be drawn to the Qing Ming painting. She spent hours tracing the outlines of the figures in the picture—as if they could tell her what she needed to know.

Besides administering hypnotherapy day after day, Dr. Allen worked long into the night researching the medical literature, reading pertinent articles and writing his reports. Grandma Wu, meanwhile, stayed constantly at CC’s side. She was always ready to read to CC, accompany her on walks, and play a game of
wei qi
(go) or chess. Finally, the day came when Dr. Allen invited CC and Grandma Wu into his office to hear his conclusions.

He began by telling CC that what she was going to hear might surprise her, but that she wasn’t to worry in any way. She was fully recovered from her fall and, by listening to the recording, she would begin to understand many of the things that had been troubling her for the last few weeks.

“Okay if we begin, CC?” he asked.

“Yes—of course,” she replied. “I can’t wait.”

Dr. Allen played the recording from their very first session together. CC listened intently while Grandma Wu watched her anxiously.

When the machine stopped playing, Dr. Allen switched it off and waited as CC struggled to make sense of what she had just heard.

“But what does it all mean… who is Mei Lan? Did I tell you any more about her?”

“Actually, this was just the very beginning, CC. It took a few sessions to come out, but Mei Lan’s story really began when her father brought home a young orphan boy to be a companion and servant to Mei Lan’s older brother. I have the whole story here in Mei Lan’s own words, and I think we should hear it from her. It will be easier for me to explain why you know so much about that painting when you hear the whole story.”

Grandma Wu held up her hand. “If we’re going to be listening to several hours of recording, may I suggest that we make CC as comfortable and relaxed as possible while listening?”

“Certainly, I will have my secretary bring in some tea. Meanwhile, please make yourself comfortable as well, Madame Wu. I suggest that CC lie on the red recliner—which is where she told me Mei Lan’s story—while you and I remain in our chairs.”

CC lay down quietly on the recliner, deep in thought, while the tea was being prepared. At last she was going to hear the whole story about that mysterious painting. Had she seen it somewhere before? Why did it look so familiar? Would the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together so she could stop worrying?

When everything was ready, the small group made a circle round the wire recorder to hear Mei Lan’s story.

Barbarian Orphan Boy

O
ur house has always been full of beautiful things. Besides being a high government magistrate, our father, Baba, is also a famous art connoisseur, with a collection of bronzes, jades, porcelains and paintings unequaled anywhere except in the Imperial Palace. It’s his love of art that led directly to Ah Li’s
joining our household. Three years ago, when I was ten years old, Baba came across Ah Li in a jade shop on the main thoroughfare. He watched, mesmerized, as Ah Li worked on a pair of matching earrings he was carving out of a tiny piece of jade. When Baba learned that Ah Li was an orphan, toiling without wages, he pitied him and took him home to work for our family and be a companion to my brother Gege.

I can still remember the day Ah Li arrived. Baba was so excited that he sent for us as soon as he got home, to tell us about Ah Li’s amazing skill.

“I’ve never seen such talent. This boy has had no training at all. Yet he shows such wonderful understanding, as well as enormous technical ability. He’s the best jade carver I’ve ever encountered.”

I remember looking at Ah Li and thinking that he didn’t look like anyone I had ever met. Later on, I found out why this was so. Ah Li is not
Han Ren
(of Han origin). His ancestors came from a foreign country far away to the west. Ah Li cannot read or write but is able to create anything he fancies out of wood, bamboo, clay, jade or stone. He can also make things grow in the garden. He and Gege spend hours cutting shrubs into the shapes of tigers, monkeys, dogs and birds.