Another round of gunshots roared, and I let out a shriek. I shot up to my feet and ran.
“Ying!” howled the wind. “Ying!”
Someone grabbed my wrist from behind. Still shrieking, I flailed. I beat my arms and fought. I wouldn’t let them take me. I wanted to live, I had to live!
“Ying.”
It was whiplash how rapidly I went spinning into my mother’s arms.
I didn’t recognize her at first. Through the blur of my tears, all I saw was an oval face, round as a goose egg.
But I knew Mama’s voice. I knew the sound of her breathing, even though it was hard and fast like she’d been running for hours. I knew the warmth of her arms.
She held me close, her body sagging in relief.
“You’re safe,” she soothed, pressing her forehead to mine. Her skin was flushed and warm, almost feverish. “Shush, Ying. Shush. It’s only leoi san, the thunder god, beating his drum.”
Over and over she repeated the words, rocking me to the singsong lilt. It was as if we were back home, sitting together on her bamboo daybed by the window as she told me about leoi san and his wife, the goddess of lightning. Together, they brewed storms in the sky and struck down all depravity in this world. It was a story I’d heard dozens of times, and the familiarity of it calmed me. I stopped shaking.
“I thought they were gunshots,” I whispered.
“No,” Mama said. She lifted my chin. “There’s no one here. Look.”
She was right, the hills were empty. No soldiers, no guns. Only dragonflies fluttering in whorls against the soft flute of the wind.
“You see?”
I nodded numbly.
Mama wiped my mouth clean with her sleeve and raised a canteen to my lips. Gently, then, she pried me off her lap, but she didn’t let go of my arm.
She faced me. Her expression had gone firm, and her voice took on a low but urgent gravity.
“Did they see you?” she asked.
They.The enemy.
I hesitated, remembering how the soldier’s eyes had danced over me as though I weren’t there. “No one saw me, I was careful.” I reached inside my shirt for the medicine pouch. Thehemp was moist with sweat, but everything within was intact. “I got the medicine for Yi Gor.”
Mama took the pouch, her teeth clenched. “You shouldn’t have gone to the house on your own. You could’ve been killed.”
“I wanted to help.”
“No.” Her face was tight with anger. “Ah Ma told you to go.”
I bit down on my lip. Of course Mama would know that.
What could I say? I didn’t want her to pick a fight with Ah Ma. Whenever the two quarreled, it was always Mama who yielded in the end.
“I’m sorry.”
Mama’s eyes turned hard. “Never again, do you understand me? Never leave without telling me.” She held me by the shoulders. “I don’t care what Ah Ma says, you listen to me. If they saw you, they would have taken you someplace where I’d never find you.” Mama’s voice had gone raw, and every word trembled. “Someplace... where they hurt girls. I’d never see you again.”
I covered one of her hands with mine. It was hard for me, a young child, to fathom that my mother could be more frightened than I was. That she needed my comforting.
“Yes, Mama” was all I could say.
She inhaled, composing herself. Her gaze raked over me. “You’re bleeding.”
