Synopsis: Hop Sing tells the boys a story after Marie’s death.
Rating:  G   Words: 3,100

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Love and Sacrifice

 

The room was dark and silent. Hop Sing shook his head mournfully as he picked up the tray he had left on the dresser hours before. The pot of tea was cold, the small bit of bread and meat barely touched. He had been hoping that Mistah Cartwright would eat more today when he’d prepared the tray and taken it to his room. Now he shook his head sadly once more and stepped silently out the door, holding back his usual urge to speak out and confront people with their failings.

 

The slippers on his feet made only the slightest “sh sh” on the stairs as he walked down to the kitchen, but even that seemed too loud for this house.

 

This was not good, Hop Sing thought as he poured out the cold tea and went about brewing some more—this time for himself, his favorite Oolong. One should have respect for the dead, and honor their memory, but now was time to put grief aside and begin to live in the world again.

 

Three months since Missus Cartwright had accident. Three months and Mistah Cartwright still up in his room. No time for ranch he say he loved. No time for sons…

 

A noise from outside made him raise his head. Hop Sing moved quickly out of the kitchen into the front room. He saw no one at first, but silently followed the sound of childish whispering until he found what he was looking for.

 

Youngest son Joseph was hidden behind the long settee, surrounded by wooden soldier figurines. The little boy jumped when he saw that he was being watched, and dropped his toys. They clattered noisily to the floor.

 

“I’m sorry, Hop Sing,” the boy said immediately and then clapped a hand over his mouth, as if he had spoken too loudly. “I was tryin’ to be quiet, like Pa…” Joseph’s bright eyes filled with tears, though he did not cry or finish what he’d started to say.

 

But Hop Sing knew what the child had intended. Mistah Cartwright had yelled for quiet yesterday when Joseph had been asking to play soldiers. His brothers could not—they were busy dealing with the work their father had neglected, and though Hop Sing could make time, the boy had really wanted his father. Mistah Cartwright’s loud roar and had shaken the house and Little Joe had run outside crying. Hop Sing had had to coax him out of the barn later with cookies.

 

This was not good, Hop Sing thought again. The boy does not understand why his father will not see him when he needs him the most.

 

“Come into the kitchen with me,” Hop Sing offered in a friendly, silly way and scooped the child up into his arms, smiling when Joseph hugged him tightly. “The almond cookies are almost done.”

 

Together, they turned back towards the kitchen just as the front door opened and the two remaining sons entered the house.

 

Mistah Hoss was not smiling until he saw his little brother, but even then Hop Sing could see the circles under his eyes. He put down his hat and stepped into the room before greeting his brother with a tickle under the chin and a carefully whispered, “Hey, Little Britches”. Hop Sing could remember when Mistah Hoss had yelled every question and had stomped around the house like an enthusiastic young bull. Everything had made Mistah Hoss smile, before he’d had to go to school all day and work on ranch in the afternoons. He wept alone in his room at night, Hop Sing knew, not ashamed of his grief, but not wanting to burden the others. He should cry to father, or oldest brother. But father would not see him, and oldest brother…Hop Sing glanced at Mistah Adam and shook his head again.

 

Mistah Adam did not have time to help brothers and no time to help himself. Though Mistah Adam had always been friendly in his fashion, now he had only curt words and anger, especially towards his father. He was a young man now, still growing, but his back was slumped from too much work and his face was hard, smiles gone. Mistah Adam nodded to him and patted his youngest brother’s shoulder gently before stepping immediately towards his father’s desk and the papers waiting there. This was not good, Hop Sing thought one last time.

 

“We’re gonna have cookies, Hoss!” Joseph was saying right before there was a loud crunching sound and everyone’s eyes went to the wooden soldiers Little Joe had left on the floor, and to Adam’s boot, which had just smashed several of them. Hop Sing frowned at the growing temper on Adam’s face.

 

“Dammit, Joe. Why are your toys out here?” Adam demanded roughly, probably in an effort not to yell, and Hop Sing felt the little boy in his arms tense up.

 

“It weren’t his fault, Adam,” Hoss said soothingly. Mistah Hoss was always making peace, but even his words seemed a little bitter. Adam’s jaw tightened, but after a moment he nodded and looked away. He rubbed his eyes with his hand and nodded again.

 

“Are you mad at me too?” Little Joseph asked suddenly in a wobbly voice and Adam looked up sharply.

 

“No, I’m not mad at you, Joe,” he said quietly and Joseph sighed in relief, probably not seeing how his oldest brother looked furiously up the stairs as he said it, towards their father. But Hop Sing did.

 

“Will you play with me?” The threat of tears was gone in Joe’s face at the thought of playing with his brothers, Hop Sing noticed fondly. Mistah Hoss hesitated visibly, but finally shook his head.

 

“I got schoolwork to do. Sorry, Shortshanks,” he sighed and looked at Adam. Joe turned to him as well, but seemed to already know his answer.

 

“I’ll be good, promise,” he pleaded with wide eyes. “No one will play with me and with Mama gone to Heaven…” Everyone in the room stilled, but the little boy choked down whatever he’d been going to say. “I know I musta been bad before since no one wants to play with me. But this time I’ll be good!” he promised with a hopeful smile that made Hop Sing turn away to hide his anger. Mistah Adam of course did not hide his.

 

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Joe,” he said so forcefully that even Mistah Hoss jumped. “If anyone’s at fault here, it’s Pa!” Adam was shaking with suppressed anger. The words seemed to startle the other two sons, but neither disagreed, Hop Sing noticed. There was only confusion and hurt on the their faces at the thought of their father.

 

“Enough!” Hop Sing announced, slashing the air with his free hand. All three boys turned to him with surprise on their faces. “Sons will respect their father!” he ordered and waved his finger in their faces. “Children will show honor to the head of the family, whatever the cost!”

 

The words that had been said to him since he was a child came to his mouth easily, though he remembered rebelling against that rule as a boy. Some of that rebellion appeared on the faces of all three sons of Ben Cartwright and he almost smiled. To hide it, he glanced down at the floor and at the soldiers laying out as if they had fallen in battle. A memory came to him and he looked up again.

 

“Sit down!” he barked. And when the two oldest sons only stared at him in disbelief, he said it again. “Cartwright boys will sit!” He pointed to the chairs near the fireplace and, very slowly, Adam and Hoss walked over and sat.

 

“I have work…” Adam started to say as Hop Sing settled Joseph down on the settee, but he glared over at him until he quieted.

 

“We all have work. This more important. I tell you a story.”

 

“A story?” Hoss repeated in confusion, wrinkling his nose.

 

“A story!” Little Joseph said excitedly. Adam crossed his arms and said nothing.

 

“I get tea and cookies. You sit,” Hop Sing said with a half smile and turned away. A few minutes later he shuffled back in, holding a tray with a pot of Oolong and four cups, one cup full of milk for Joe, and a plate piled high with hot almond cookies. He made sure each boy had taken something before pouring himself a cup of tea and seating himself next to Joseph. He’d never sat on the settee before and briefly reflected that it wasn’t very comfortable.

 

He took a slow sip of tea before raising his head to look at the boys around him. Hoss was already reaching for more cookies, as Hop Sing had known he would. The hard work had only increased his already large appetite. But still the boy looked too thin for his frame, unhappy. He needed this.

 

Adam was leaning back in his chair; his eyes dropping closed every once in a while until he would shake himself awake. He needed this rest too. And Little Joseph was sighing contentedly as he finished his milk. In a minute he would climb down from the settee to sit on one of his brothers’ laps, and they would let him. He also needed this moment. They all needed this, as much as they needed their father. This was right.

 

Hop Sing cleared his throat and began.

 

“This very popular story in China,” he felt he should introduce the story that every child in China knew by heart. “A long time ago there was great war…”

 

“China has wars?” Hoss asked and Joseph shushed him, looking at Hop Sing eagerly.

 

“Every land have war,” Hop Sing said with a nod. “The Great Emperor, the Son of Heaven who was as father to the people needed soldiers to defend the country. He sent out a notice to all the families in China, to send their eldest or most capable son to the army.” This got their attention, he could tell, and smiled when Little Joe immediately went over to his oldest brother’s lap with a worried frown. Adam patted his little arm and then looked back to him, waiting.

 

“Soon, the message came to the village where the Fa family lived. Fa family were famous warriors– the father himself had served the Emperor in battle years ago. But now Father Fa was old and his only son a mere child. Despite his age, the old father knew he would go. It was his duty, and his honor, to serve the Emperor, as a good son serves his father.”

 

“I don’t see how the emperor is such a good father, if he’s sending an old man to die,” Adam objected. Hop Sing just smiled and continued his tale, without even glancing up the stairs.

 

“In his house, Father Fa had one daughter that he love very much. Her name was Mu Lan.”

 

“Why is her name Lan? Why ain’t her name Fa too? Like I’m Hoss Cartwright, of the Cartwright family,” Hoss wondered out loud, ignoring Joe’s second shush. This Hop Sing did stop to answer, since knowing these boys they would only keep asking.

 

“Her name was Mu Lan, as yours is Hoss and his is Adam. Her family name was Fa, but this comes first…so her name was Fa Mu Lan. It is as if you were Cartwright Hoss.”

 

“Then what’s your name, Hop Sing?” Little Joe asked, not noticing how loud he’d gotten. No one else seemed to either, and Hop Sing smiled.

 

“In China, it was against the law for girl to defy her father. It was as defying the Emperor himself. It was also against law for girl to join army. To do so would dishonor both her family and the empire.”

 

“Well, of course girls can’t join the army,” Adam scoffed, making Joe laugh. The giggle seemed to relax everyone a little bit. Even Adam half-smiled.

 

“Knowing this, but loving her father too much to allow him to go, Mulan stole his armor, disguised herself as boy, and ran to join army and take his place. She knew she risked her death. For if she did not die in battle, if she were found, she would be beheaded for treason.”

 

“Treason?” Adam sounded surprised.

 

“What’s treason?” Joseph wanted to know. Hop Sing took another sip of tea so Adam would answer.

 

“It’s when someone does something very, very bad…” he said and then stopped.

 

“But what was very bad? Mulan loved her pa, right?” Joseph continued with a puzzled frown. “And you said the emperor was like her pa’s pa, right?” he demanded and Hop Sing nodded. This was close.

 

“The law said she was disrespecting her pa,” Hoss added. “But she did it out of love. Didn’t they care none?”

 

They all turned their worried eyes back to him, so Hop Sing decided it was time to put down his tea and continue the story.

 

“Mulan’s secret stayed hidden for many years as she fought in the wars. Her burden was great. She was doing work she was not accustomed to doing and she lived in fear of death everyday, but she only thought of her father to be happy. She persisted, not thinking of herself. And when the wars ended, she was a hero, having saved her country. The Emperor himself praised her bravery.”

 

Hop Sing paused to briefly pray that Fa Mulan would not mind him changing her story as he was about to.

 

“But her secret was exposed as she knelt at the Emperor’s feet and people gasped to see their hero was a woman. Mulan knew that she would be killed for her disobedience and did not plead for her life.” The boys tensed at his words, causing him to smiled again. “But the Emperor looked down upon his daughter kindly and raised her up.”

 

“Why did he do that?” Hoss asked, wrinkling his nose again.

 

“Because though she had been disobedient to him and to China, she had also loved her father greatly and proved it by her actions. And fathers who are loved greatly and treated with respect should treat their children kindly with love. This brings honor to everyone.”

 

“It does?” Adam frowned thoughtfully. Little Joseph and Hoss also looked confused.

 

“Mulan brought honor to her father with love and sacrifice. How could he not honor her in return? It is the Way.” Hop Sing paused for another sip of tea as they all puzzled over this.

 

“But…” Adam said suddenly, not aware that his voice had risen. He didn’t finish his sentence and Hop Sing decided to end the story.

 

“Mulan returned home to her family and the father she loved, but with a new name. The people now called their hero, Hua Mu Lan. Hua mean flower, and Mu Lan mean wood orchid…it is your…magnolia. Magnolia Flower, beautiful name for the hero of China, who had honored her father and in doing so, honored China.”

“Hua Mulan,” each boy repeated loudly, destroying the sound of the words, but their efforts made him smile.

 

“Tell us about the war now!” Joseph demanded in an excited yell, hopping off Adam’s lap and bouncing over to Hoss’.

 

“Yeah, I want to hear how the little gal fought all them battles,” Hoss requested as he tried to get a hold on his squirming little brother.

 

“Honor to the father…” Adam said quietly with a curious look at Hop Sing. Hop Sing cleared his throat, but before he could say anything Joseph squealed when Hoss tickled him. The little boy’s face and ears turned red, and Adam and Hoss exchanged a look before bursting into loud laughter. Hop Sing nodded happily at their playing and then looked up to the top of the staircase, to where Mistah Cartwright stood hesitantly. He had probably come down because of the noise. Hop Sing hid a smile.

 

Hop Sing rose respectfully, the action indicating to the boys that they were no longer alone. Their laughter stopped abruptly and the room got very quiet. Mistah Cartwright came partly down the staircase, staring down at the group. He did not look well. His eyes were dark and shadowed, his clothes loose and ill-fitting, stubble on his face. If it weren’t for the growth of beard, Hop Sing would have said that he mirrored his sons.

 

“What…?” Mistah Cartwright started to ask in a rough whisper but Little Joe interrupted him.

 

“I’m sorry, Pa,” he told his father in a clear voice before turning his face into Hoss’ pant leg.

 

“We didn’t mean to be so loud, Pa,” Hoss apologized, patting his brother’s head. Hop Sing looked expectantly at Adam. The oldest son frowned fiercely before nodding once, jerkily.

 

“Sorry for disturbing you, Pa.” He had trouble, but he said it. His words seemed to startle his father.

 

“I…you weren’t disturbing me, Adam,” Mistah Cartwright shook his head and looked confused. For a moment, Hop Sing thought he saw a light in the other man’s eyes. “I haven’t heard laughter since…” he faded away and looked down briefly, composing himself as a man should before his sons. “What were you all doing?”

 

There were several moments of silence.

 

“Hop Sing was tellin’ a story,” Joseph said quietly, but with a smile.

 

“About a Chinese girl,” Hoss added.

 

“And her father,” Adam finished with a look at him. Mistah Cartwright took a few more steps down the stairs and then turned to him as well. Hop Sing tried to look innocent.

 

“Perhaps…perhaps Hop Sing would tell the story again?” he asked softly. Hop Sing frowned.

 

“Cartwrights think Hop Sing only have time to tell stories? Hop Sing have work!” he declared grumpily and went about cleaning up teacups and saucers, leaving what was left of the cookies on the low table.

 

“Oh,” Mistah Cartwright blinked once or twice, looking startled.

 

“Do you know any stories, Pa?” Mistah Adam asked hopefully and Hop Sing paused tensely. Little Joseph jumped.

 

“Pa has lots of stories. I remember!” he shouted and ran over to throw his arms around his father’s legs.

 

“I don’t know…” He looked downward at his youngest son and then suddenly gave them all an awkward smile. This time there was a definite light in his eyes.

 

“C’mon, Pa,” Mistah Hoss urged, pointing to the big chair in the corner, their father’s chair. Mistah Cartwright allowed himself to be led to the chair and didn’t protest when his youngest climbed into his lap. His middle son pulled a chair over to be near him. Mistah Cartwright smiled at both of them before glancing up at his oldest.

 

Hop Sing held his breath while the two stared at each other and then let it out when Mistah Adam slowly sat down on the floor at his father’s feet.

 

Hop Sing picked up the tray as Mistah Cartwright cleared his throat to tell his sons a story, then paused near the dining room table to look back at the scene. The Cartwrights were together again, and smiling. This was good.

The End

Author’s note:

For Lian Hua, the queen of Mulan fic

I’ve had Hop Sing deviate from the real story of Hua Mu Lan quite a bit, but the original poem is fascinating on its own. Anyone interested in it can find it online in several places, and several different translations, one being, http://members.tripod.com/mulan_magic/ancientpoem.html Hop Sing’s concept of the proper behavior between a father and his sons is, while somewhat sexist, strongly Confucian; so don’t blame me. :>)