Early memories

She was so beautiful. I sat there taking in every detail of her features. The small rounded nose, the full ruby lips and those vivid blue eyes accentuated by her golden ringlets. She stood there fearless in her two-foot stature. Fearless and forever frozen in a delicate smile and perfectly protected underneath the cellophane wrapper. We were not allowed to touch her. Nai Nai (Grandmother) said that if we touched her with our soiled little hands, we’d surely stain her satin blue dress and she’d be forever ruined. So each day, we could only sit and marvel at this beautiful miniature plastic person who stood atop of the TV for all the world to see.

The doll belonged to my cousin Wen-Wen, her mother had bought it for her on her first birthday. “Why did you waste your money and buy her such a doll?” Nai Nai asked when auntie brought home the doll. “Wen-Wen is not yet two years old and couldn’t possibly play with a doll the same size as her.” Nai Nai sneered at auntie who just smiled and pretended not to hear anything.

I was intrigued with the color of her hair. Yellow. Why would anyone in the world have yellow hair? Everyone knew that a real person only had black hair. That’s why they call it a doll I guess. Dolls can have hair in any color imaginable. I wondered if they made dolls with blue or even red hair. That would be a sight to see, a doll with red hair! And her eyes. They were the same color and pattern as my brother’s cobalt blue marbles. I wondered if they used actual marbles for the eyes. And the most amazing thing was that her eye lids could actually open and close. Wen-Wen and I giggled when we saw the doll close her eyes automatically as Nai Nai placed her flat on the bed. The next moment her eyes were open again as she stood back on the TV staring wide-eyed at the plastic film in front of her.

I think Nai Nai left her on top of the TV because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. As I didn’t have a doll of my own. I hear her talking to the lady across the hall sometimes about my parents. She’ll tell Mrs. Lin how father spends all his days at the military base in Taichung, the southern tip of Taiwan. He would come home once a month and would be more concerned about meeting up his freeloading friends for dinner than spending some time with his son or daughter. Mother, on the other hand, was another story.

She was currently in Jordan serving as a military nurse. When she announced her plans to go on assignment to Amman for two years Nai Nai was adamantly against it. No proper woman would fly across the world and leave behind a husband and two children. Nai Nai then blamed my father, openly in front of mother, for having bad judgment to marry a woman who did not know her proper place in a family. But mother was so enthralled with the chance to travel and see another world and culture she ignored everyone’s protests, packed her bags and left. Or perhaps she left on account of Nai Nai's derogatory comments. Nonetheless, my grandparents were left to watch over two rambunctious grandchildren.

***

I didn’t mind the fact that father wasn’t around much. I was terribly afraid of him. My brother, Lee, and I alway watched what we said or did carefully not knowing what type of mood Father would be in. He was a military man, following in the footsteps of Grandfather. It paid well and was one of the best ways to get a foothold into the world of Taiwanese Politics. Father’s ambition was to make General then the sky would be the limit from there. Therefore, it was understandable that Father had no idea how to deal with children our age. He thus decided to deal with us as he would men from his infantry.

On days when he returned from Taichung we were ordered to stand in front of him for inspection. I remember one Saturday afternoon standing in front of him as he loomed above us examining our postures. I saw his expression change from satisfaction to annoyance and then disgust as his eyes fell upon my runny nose. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and began the process of wiping my nose. I wined and tried to pull away under his rough hand. That infuriated him. He scolded me and commanded that I stand still and not move. That’s when I felt the hot salty tears stream down my face. Unfortunately, my tears were always accompanied by a strong loud wail exploding from my lungs. The more I cried the more he reprimanded me and the more he reprimanded me the more I cried. In the end I was left with a bright red handprint across my face to remind myself not to loose control of my emotions so easily. I was four.

Father was not always that way. When he was in a good mood he would envelop Lee and I in his thick arms and hug us so hard he almost squeezed the life out of us. On certain weekends we would be taken along to visit his military base. He would parade us around in front of his squadron and everyone would gather around to pat us on the head or pinch our cheeks. The best part was when we were allowed to truly be kids and spend the day chasing each through the base or mess halls. Sometimes one or two of the privates would lift us aboard the two stealthy tanks and allow us to climb inside and explore. At night, Lee and I would share an extra bunk set up in father’s quarters. We’d fight and call each other names until we were exhausted and fell asleep. During the middle of the night I was often awoken by rustling and sounds of voices coming from the direction of father’s bunk. As I peered through the mosquito netting I could faintly make out two figures lying together in his bed. I knew that one was father and the other was that of a woman. I didn’t know who she was or why she was there. I only knew that I was not to tell anyone of what I saw.