by Jennie Liu
“Luli,” Yun says quietly. “Please, can we get a bus to Gujiao today?”
I set my jaw. “I’m still thinking about it.”
“But he could—”
“I’m not afraid of him,” I cut her off. “And don’t worry—I won’t hold you responsible if anything bad happens to me. You’ve made it clear you’re not responsible for anyone but yourself.”
Yun flinches. The harshness of my own words takes me by surprise, but I don’t apologize.
After that, Yun is subdued. Cocooned in her comforter, she sits on the chair in front of the TV, though I won’t let her turn it on. Her eyes keep flicking to me. Gradually I feel the anger draining out of me. I can’t look at her the same way anymore, but I also can’t hate her. It’s obvious that she really is sorry for what she’s done.
Not that being sorry will bring Chun back.
Maybe nothing will.
I’m still waiting, hoping.
Chapter 38
Yun
I hear a car door slam outside Ma’s. Luli must have heard the car before I did, because she’s at the door and opening it before there’s even a knock. Right away she collapses back against the door with a strangled cry.
The next thing I see is Chun’s pink blanket with white dots. My hand flies to my mouth.
Ma yelps and darts over, leaving the table and chairs clattering behind her. “My baby!” Tears run fresh down her cheeks as she grabs the baby out of a man’s arms and puts her against her shoulder. “You found her! You found her!”
Shock paralyzes me in my chair. Astonishment, relief, and the pressure of the last few days boil up, making me dizzy. I feel as if I might cry too.
I hear the baby whimpering over the noise. My mind reels—How? Yong? The money!—but Ma’s voice—Found her, found her!—rings in my ears.
Chun’s mewling begins to get louder, her limbs kicking and thrusting out. Ma turns to shield her from the cold air coming through the door. The man who brought her steps inside, and Luli shuts the door behind him. His broad face and rectangular glasses are familiar to me. Slowly, I place him. The private detective who showed up at Yong’s doorstep last year. Xiang, his card read. I stiffen. My hand slips down to gather my blanket tightly around me.
Ma digs her nails into her own cheek. “Where’s my boy?”
“Your boy has done an abominable thing,” Mr. Xiang says. “Trying to sell this baby to people brokers! His own daughter!”
A hot prickle comes over me. I feel an impulse to jump up and run out the door, but I only grip the armrests of my chair with sweating hands.
“This isn’t the first time.” Mr. Xiang slaps the back of one hand against the palm of the other and scolds Ma as if she’s the one who’s guilty. “You know what else he’s done.”
Ma both shakes and nods her head, twitching in a way that says she knows, but doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to talk about it. She makes shushing sounds, though whether it’s to calm the baby or to hush Mr. Xiang, I’m not sure.
He pulls off his hat and makes a half turn to nod at Luli, before his gaze jumps to me. My heart stops cold. But he only inclines his head before he turns back to Ma.
“Now, in this case, I understand his difficult position—child out of wedlock and all that. He should have married her and set everything right.” He juts his chin in my direction. “But if he wasn’t going to do it, when the little one is still wanted by one parent, trying to make money from her is just too awful.”
Still wanted by one parent? Bewildered, I shoot a look to Luli. She widens her eyes at me and compresses her lips. It’s the first time she’s really looked at me since I came back. I feel she’s trying to tell me something, but I don’t understand.
“I told you he was dangerous.” Mr. Xiang wags his finger at me. “You’re lucky to be rid of him now.”
I remember the warning, but I’m puzzled by how he tracked down Yong. I know better than to ask, although he trains his eyes on me as if waiting for something. A tense, expectant silence hangs in the air beyond Chun’s weak cries. Mr. Xiang begins to show lines in his forehead as he studies me. I blink nervously, waiting for him to drag me back to the police station.
Ma, unable to calm Chun, breaks the tension. “When was she last fed?”
“I’ll get the bottle!” Luli says loudly. She rushes forward, takes Chun, and crosses over to me. “Just hold her until it’s ready,” she murmurs, giving me a meaningful look.
I put out my arms. She places Chun in them and darts to the stove. While she’s making a racket with pots and bottles, I awkwardly bounce Chun, trying to settle her. Her arms flail, and she makes her feeble but persistent cries. I’m afraid I’ll drop her.
“I’m sorry to tell you, but your boy is going to have to take his punishment,” Mr. Xiang says to Ma. “I don’t know how he got out so quickly last time. Bribery, I’m sure.” He clicks his tongue with contempt. “He might have only been an accessory in the previous situation, but this time he’s going to be held responsible. Human trafficking! He’s going to be charged. A simple greasing of palms won’t work for him.”
Ma’s face is a mash of grief. She backs onto a stool and flops her head onto her arm against the table, sobbing and huffing.
“Don’t cry.” His sternness falls away. “You can visit him at the Gujiao prison facility.”
Ma cries even harder.
“Stop crying, stop crying. There’s no use to it.” He stands grasping his hat with both hands. “You have this little one to take care of now. That’s going to keep you busy enough, eh?”
Mr. Xiang turns his somber face on me again. The two-cell detention center appears in my mind. I shudder, knowing a real prison facility will be much worse. The baby is still uncomfortable in my arms, struggling and making raspy cries, but I’m glad for the weight and bulk of her wrapped in her thick blanket, a buffer as I wait for Mr. Xiang to call me to account.
“You may be required to give a statement,” he says to me. “I don’t think you’ll have to give evidence at the trial since the buyer will be ordered to court. Unless you want to.”
My mouth comes open. I draw in breath. I’m trembling again, but for a different reason. He isn’t going to have me arrested. He’s going to let me off. I bend my head to Chun, shaking so hard she judders in my arms. I’m afraid to say anything in case he changes his mind.
Luli snatches the bottle from the pan of water and brings it over to me. It’s barely warm, but I fumble it into Chun’s mouth. Luli hovers over me and twists around to Mr. Xiang, a big smile pasted on her face. “Thank you so much for finding Chun!”
She turns to me and hisses into my ear, “Say something!”
Her sharp tone rouses me. “Thank you for getting my daughter back. Thank you so much.” My words sound weak and flat even to my own ears. I am glad he found Chun—for Ma, for Luli, maybe even for myself—but I’m not sure of the right feelings to show.
“Just let us know what we have to do,” Luli says. Her voice is unnaturally loud and bright.
Mr. Xiang puts his hat back on. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Cao. For now, I’d better get going.” He stands for a moment, looking us over. The moment drags until Ma picks her head up off the table and shows her tear-tracked face. Only now does Mr. Xiang let himself out.
The fake smile drops off Luli’s face. She straightens up, hurries to the door, and bolts it with a hard clack.
Chapter 39
Luli
After Mr. Xiang leaves, I finally feel like I can breathe. I let out a long, tremulous sigh as I lean against the door, watching Yun with Chun. The baby is sucking furiously at the bottle. Yun is safe from the law, and we’re all safe from Yong.
Yun looks so ghostly—ravaged, as bad as when she returned yesterday.
Ma rises and takes Chun from her. “So you came back to us, little one! I hope that wasn’t too rough on you,” she murmurs to Chun, rubbing her cheek. “Poor thing, taken away from us like that. So lucky he found you.”
Yun, sitt
ing sideways in her chair, watches Ma as she paces across the room. Her fingers creep up to her own pale cheek, fingering the pocks on her face, the ones the caretakers at the Institute always told her marked her as unlucky.
“I never believed in luck,” she mumbles.
I draw a breath to tell her that she has been lucky today. Lucky that Yong ran out on her before he was caught, that Mr. Xiang didn’t notice that she didn’t seem like a distraught and grateful mother, that she wasn’t arrested.
But I also think of everything that led up to today. All those silent years Yun spent at the Institute. And that one year of making her own choices out in the world, of being able to breathe freely. Over and over again I’ve told her that everything will be all right, but I’ve never told her she can have that freedom back. Not anytime soon, at least.
Before I can speak, Ma’s head jerks up. “Ha! I know how it is with you!” she snaps. “Just because you were an orphan, you think you can live only for yourself. Hurling forward! Just doing what you want all the time!” She sniffs and takes several strides toward Yun. “But what you don’t know is that what you want is right here.” She gestures with her hand at all of us. “People. Family.” She clicks her tongue. “You’ve just been too stupid to see it!”
I wince. What Ma says is true—I’ve been thinking the same thing, after all—but it’s not because Yun is stupid.
Ma catches sight of my face. “What? Don’t give me that talk about her being broken by the orphanage. I heard you out there yesterday—it’s nonsense. She just has the after-birth melancholy. Lots of women get it. She’ll be better after her sitting-in month. You young girls don’t know anything!”
I want to believe what Ma is saying. That Yun won’t always see Chun as a burden, as something trapping her and weighing her down. That in the long run, together, Ma and Yun and I can build a good life—not just for Chun but for us.
I try to catch Yun’s eye, but she’s studying the blanket draped over her shoulders, fingering the threads.
“You’re right about not believing in luck, though,” Ma says to Yun. “No one can count on it.”
Yun’s hand creeps to the nape of her neck. “But can you count on people?” She says it so quietly, I almost don’t hear her.
Ma begins to tear up. She turns her back to us. I know she’s thinking of Yong. Yun notices too, and by the look on her face, I can tell she feels bad for making Ma cry.
All my anger at her falls away. “Some people you can count on,” I say.
She gives me a faint smile, but her gaze drifts to the floor, and she begins plucking out strands of her hair. I can see she’s telling herself that she can’t be counted on, that she isn’t ready for Chun, that she isn’t good for any baby.
“I know what you’re thinking!” I move toward her swiftly to chase away her brooding. “Don’t worry about anything! Just get better for now!” I crouch beside her and speak more softly. “This will all work out. Going forward is what matters.” Gently, I pull her hands away from her hair. “This much I’ve learned from you.”
Chapter 40
Luli
The night before I’m due to go back to the city, Ma’s getting ready to do the wash when Yun declares, “I’m going back too. I need to start looking for a new job.”
Of course Ma flies into a state. She rails at Yun, says she’s too weak to go back now, crazy to even think about it. “You need to start your sitting-in month all over again!”
Yun really doesn’t look well. Her face is ashy-white. “I’m fine,” she insists, but Ma holds up the pants Yun had been wearing when she walked all those miles home. Blood has soaked through them.
“Does this look fine? Do these pants belong to a girl who can work a full shift without fainting or making herself sick?”
I take Yun aside. “I think you should stay with Ma for now.”
Yun bites her lip. “I need to go back to work.”
“And you will, soon. Listen, when I get back to Gujiao I’ll visit the job center every week and find out which factories are hiring. As soon you’re strong enough, I’ll help you find a position. We’ll work, make money, and come home to visit Chun and Ma every month. The fines will be paid off, I promise. But you have to get stronger first.”
Yun doesn’t argue. She goes over and picks up Chun, who isn’t even crying. She paces slowly, patting and rocking her, just like Ma does. I can see her heart isn’t completely in it. Maybe she’s mostly comforting herself. But I think it’s also her way of showing that she’ll make an effort with Chun—with all of us. And for now, that’s enough.
***
The bus moves into the thickening traffic near Gujiao. Towering apartment blocks crowd all sides of the crisscrossing expressway, reaching upward and overlapping into the distance until they fade into the brownish smog. I know that behind each of the thousands and thousands of dark windows, a family is housed.
Strangely, the city no longer seems so daunting and lonely. It strikes me that this time I’m the one going ahead and Yun is the one counting on me. Not only Yun, but Chun and Ma as well. They’re all counting on me.
I have a strange feeling of lightness as the bus pulls into the station, as if I’m going home.
Author’s Note
In 1979, China adopted the One-Child Policy in an effort to control population growth and raise its citizens out of poverty.
The policy had some exceptions allowing second children for ethnic minorities and for rural couples whose first child was a girl or disabled. But for unmarried women and others who became pregnant out of compliance with family planning regulations, the options were to voluntarily abort, be forced to abort, or pay huge fines. Abortion carries no stigma in China, and even late-term abortions are not unheard of. Abortion in China has largely been associated with married women, but the trend of young, single women having abortions, even multiple abortions, is on the rise. Limited sexual education in China means that many young people have little understanding of birth control methods.
Family planning councils could be meticulous with pregnancy checks, charting menstruation and births, coercing abortion and sterilization, and exacting fines. Enforcement of regulations varied widely across the country, but fines for having a baby in violation of regulations could range anywhere from three to ten times a household’s annual income. Fines had to be paid for a baby to receive the essential hukou, household registration, which provides access to the most basic social services such as education, healthcare, and legal employment.
In a society with a long-held preference for sons, female babies have often been victims of infanticide or abandonment. After the One-Child Policy went into effect, orphanages became filled with infant girls and disabled children.
The One-Child Policy has created a gender imbalance, about 118 men to 100 women, leaving a surplus of men without enough women for marriage, especially in the countryside. One result is increased human trafficking for brides and prostitution, including the abduction of women from neighboring Vietnam and other South East Asian countries. Children, both boys and girls, are also trafficked for adoption or as future brides.
In 2015, faced with an aging population in a society that relies on the family to support the elder generation, as well as an economy dependent on a massive workforce of cheap labor, the government enacted a Two-Child Policy. Despite the new policy, the newborn birth rate has remained low with many couples citing the rising cost of living and their own positive experiences as singletons as deterrents to having larger families.
In 2018, China’s policy-makers have commissioned research studies to consider making more changes, namely eliminating limits and allowing “independent fertility” so a family could decide how many children they will have.
Acknowledgments
I am so lucky to have fallen in with P. B. Parris, Ann Howell, Linda Steitler, and Williamaye Jones. You have all been so giving and patient. We all know how much you have helped with this story from the very beginning and beyond.
Thank you to Chung Liu, D.L. Ellenburg, Virginia Pye, my mother Mei-jy Liu, and Jane Lee for reading the manuscript and giving thoughtful feedback or helping me to find answers to my many questions. Nathan, Alex and Eliot Boniske, thank you for all kinds of support and space you’ve provided so I could do this.
Shannon Hassan, agent and Amy Fitzgerald, editor, you both awe me with your whip-like smartness and how well you do your work. I greatly appreciate you both for taking on Girls on the Line and helping to make it a much finer novel.
Topics for Discussion
What characteristics make Luli and Yun different from each other? How have their different experiences in early childhood shaped their personalities?
What does family mean to Luli? What does it mean to Yun?
Why does Yun initially dismiss Ming’s warnings about Yong? What role does jealousy play in various characters’ behavior throughout the novel?
Describe some cultural attitudes toward orphans in China. How do these attitudes affect Luli’s and Yun’s opportunities and the way they see themselves?
Contrast Dali’s plans for her future with Luli’s. Why do you think Luli has such different aspirations?
What are some differences between China and the United States in terms of family planning policies and options? What are some differences in cultural attitudes toward abortion, pregnancy out of wedlock, and motherhood?
Why does Yun have no desire to be a mother? How does she express this?
How do laws and money affect Yun’s decisions about her pregnancy? How do people around her influence her actions?
Why is Luli so determined to help Yun keep the baby instead of taking the baby to the orphanage? What is she overlooking in her eagerness to take care of Yun and the baby?
According to his family, how has Yong’s life been influenced by his lack of a hukou? Do you believe Ma’s claim that all Yong’s problems and bad decisions stem from this?
