My father was very popular with the ladies in our village because he was not only wealthy, but also handsome and well-dressed (at least, compared to all the other men). He kept a second wife and several “girlfriends” in addition to my mother, but such practices were not uncommon in those days. Second wife even had five children with my father, but somehow we all learned to get along and live together as one large clan. My father supported both of our families and trusted my mother to divide the rice and fabric for each household. She fulfilled this task with honor, but perhaps with a grudging heart as it was difficult to share her husband’s love.
Since I grew up as my father’s favorite child, he would carry me on his shoulders everywhere he went. Curiously, he also took me with him whenever he visited second wife (which my mother permitted only once a week). Each time, before we left, my mother reminded me to stay close to my father during the entire visit and to never leave him alone. She even wanted me to sleep in his bed at night. I couldn’t understand why she was so insistent, but she promised to reward me if I completed my mission.
Second wife always treated me like a distinguished guest in her home. At mealtimes, she invited me to sit with her and father at the dinner table, even though she did not allow this privilege to any of her five children. I knew she was trying to win me over, but I was too clever. After dinner, she often urged me to lie down on the living room cot, but I would reply, “Oh Auntie, I’m not really sleepy yet.” She would then make some tea for her and father as they sat on the couch together, but I would squeeze my way in-between them and sit in the middle. Again, she would try to persuade me to sleep on the cot, but I would keep saying, “Auntie, I’m still not tired.”
As the night grew dark and I did become sleepy, I would sneak into her room and fall asleep right in the middle of her bed. One time, when the two of them came into the room, she said with surprise, “Oh no, the child is sleeping in our bed. What shall we do?” I woke up to hear my father tell her that perhaps she should sleep on the living room cot and that he would sleep next to me in the bedroom. She angrily insisted that he carry me outside. Yet as soon as my father scooped me in his arms, I started to wail and refused to stop.
Second wife cried out my name in desperation: “Dai, if you sleep in the living room tonight, auntie will buy you whatever you want to eat tomorrow.”
I screamed back, “No! I don’t want anything to eat. I just want to sleep where I am right now.”
After several minutes of chaos, she shoved a dollar into my pocket and told me to use it for having fun the next day. A dollar was a lot of money back then, so I finally let her carry me out to the living room. I was pretty tired anyhow and satisfied with the dollar.
When I came home from the visit, my mother pressed me, “Tell me, son, with whom did you sleep last night?”
I responded semi-truthfully, “I slept with father, of course.” My mother then stroked my hair and gave me another dollar. It was my lucky day! So, from then on, whenever my father visited second wife, I always insisted on going with him so I could “play both sides.” He never refused me and even spoiled me a great deal because I was lucky number seven.
