That Muse.. and Destiny

Reflections

They were running through a field, the tall grass whispering against her legs, but all Mei could truly feel was the warmth of a black-skinned hand clasping hers as they surged forward. Finally, they reached the mouth of a cave filled other black-skinned people. They didn’t seem fazed by her presence at all; instead, there was a profound sense of recognition. It felt as though she belonged there, even though her logical mind knew she was a stranger in this land. From their vibrant kaftans and beads she could tell who they were. She was in an unfamiliar land, yet she was at ease.

The young man holding her hand took her to the centre of the cave and made her sit directly in front of the one who seemed to be their leader. He beckoned and the man with her offered her water in a carved calabash. It was the clearest water she had ever seen.

“Drink.” The leader commanded softly.

She looked into the water, but the reflection staring back wasn't the recently tired Mei with distant eyes. The woman in the water was radiant. Her skin glowed with a hidden light and her eyes sparked with a fire she had only ever felt while painting. She looked more alive than she had ever felt in her waking life. She looked up at the circle of people and realized they all shared that same inner light, a brilliance she hadn't noticed until she saw it in herself.

She opened her mouth to speak and immediately the whole scene was drowned in white light.

“Mei… Mei...”

The scent of woodsmoke was replaced by the expensive fragrance of her family's library. Mei’s eyes snapped open to see her younger brother, Lian, leaning over her with a look of curiousity and concern.

“Mei, are you okay?” he asked, his voice low. “You were breathing so fast. I thought you were having a nightmare.”

Mei sat up, the phantom weight of the calabash still lingering in her hands. “It wasn't a nightmare, Lian,” she whispered, looking down at her hands. “It was more of a vision.”

Lian sat at the edge of her chaise lounge where she had been lying. Observant as always, he said, “I heard your conversation with father the other night. What was that about?”

“I’ve told you about it.” Mei said, sitting with her hands resting on her knees. “Going to Africa isn’t some wishful thinking. I’m being serious.”

“Which is why I’m asking. For what reason are you taking it this far?” Lian asked.

Mei looked at him, her defenses rising. “Why can’t I make that decision, Lian? Why should there be a restraining order simply because it’s Africa? I don’t plan on leaving forever.”

“You still haven’t answered the question, Mei.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Forget the melodrama. I mean I get Paris or Berlin, but why insist on risking things with father for the sake of some travel to Africa.”

“I don’t know.” She rose from the couch and walked to the window, then turned to face him. “It’s a calling. Like for the first time I have a sense of purpose, even though I can’t say what it is. But it’s my duty to find out. I can take care of myself and I’m finally done with college.”

Lian looked perturbed. He and his sister were very close and they’d shared secrets like best of friends, but she’d kept this to herself. He glanced towards her. He could understand why- she felt no one understood. He tried to wrap his thoughts around her words about purpose and calling, but he wasn’t making much progress. Their parents expected performance that met their standard of excellence in every endeavour; that was what life was about for the Li children. With this, Mei would go against all of that. He didn’t even want to imagine what it could lead to.

But despite the thoughts, Lian noticed that his heart was not afraid. And when he looked at his sister, he saw a maturity and sense of will he observed was growing in her. She looked like she was already a thousand miles away. It was careless, but he would help her.

“What would you do?” Lian asked.

Mei leaned against the wall, looking straight at her brother with eyes bright with a plan. “Would you help me?”

…

Later that evening, Mei retreated to her balcony to paint, trying to capture the exact clarity of the water from her dream. She didn't hear the door to her room open.

Mrs Li stepped quietly into her daughter’s room, pausing in the silence. She moved slowly along the wall, her eyes tracing the

"Gallery of Success" that decorated Mei’s walls. She looked at the portrait of Mei at six years old, holding her first national art award. She saw the photos of the international showcases and awards for academic distinctions. Her daughter had truly been exemplary and Mrs Li was proud of her everyday.

This room was a testament to the Li legacy, but lately it seemed to her like a place of confinement for Mei. She

could spend the entire day in her room and instead of painting in the garden as usual, she would rather do so on her balcony.

As Mrs Li approached the balcony, Mei turned to see her. She was hunched over her canvas, her strokes decisive and passionate. Her mum wasn’t surprised; painting was one of Mei’s favourite things to do.

“Wǒ xiǎo niǎo, what have you got there?” her mother said softly.

Mei kept on with her painting for some moments, after which she relaxed, straightened and turned to her mum.

“Just another painting.” She said smiling softly.

“Another showstopping piece?” Mrs Li said, lightheartedly.

“Well, maybe.” Mei laughed.

They spoke for a while about small things while Mei cleared up the area, the distance that had built between them easing away with each word and smile. They talked about her upcoming graduation and how they would celebrate as a family. But eventually, the topic of her father surfaced.

“Your father is worried about this talk of Africa,” Mrs Li said, her voice cautious as she noticed her daughter stiffen a bit. “He fears for the image of the family, but much more he fears for your safety, Mei.”

The memory of her father’s words flashed through her mind. But they fizzled away when she thought of the leader in the cave and the water that showed her who she truly was. She looked her mother in the eye, her voice calm and unwavering.

“You have nothing to worry about, Mother. I’m not angry at dad, neither am I scared of what is ahead of me.” Mei reached out, touching her mother’s hand. “I have been a good daughter and I’ll always be. Nothing’s going to change.”

Mrs Li looked at the painting on the easel—a swirl of amber and obsidian. She watched as Mei went into her room. They’d been so apart these days that her daughter looked strange to her already.