by Gillian Chan
“Declan and I were sick,” she said. Her eyes were all flat and they would not look at me.
No, I thought to myself, this time I will not let her do this. So I told her how I had gone to her house and what the horrible landlord had said.
Tears ran down her face, but she made no noise, and now she looked at me. I put my arm around her shoulders. It was some time before she spoke. She said she didn’t want people to know and that I wasn’t to tell anyone else. I don’t think you count, Diary, because no one reads you but me.
In November Bess’s father lost his job on the docks. They dismissed him because he was unreliable through drink — those were her words. He did not go looking for another job, just hung around bars, hoping his friends would buy him drinks. Then he went away. They don’t know where. Bess shocked me because she said that she hoped he’d gone to h___! Only Liam was earning some money, but it wasn’t enough to keep the family, and it was hard for him because he was trying to save to get married. Do you remember, Diary, I told you how bruised Declan was and how I thought maybe it was Ivor who had done it? I feel very badly because it wasn’t. It was Liam. Declan stole some coppers from their mother’s purse, money that Liam had given her for food. This ended everything. Liam left too, and is lodging with the parents of the girl he wants to marry. When the landlord threw them out, Mrs. Murphy had no choice but to split the children up. She and the two little girls, the twins who are just four, they’re staying with one aunt, and Bess and Declan with another.
“Oh, Bess,” I said to her, “that is a terrible thing to happen.”
She pulled away from me. When she spoke, her voice was sharp. “Don’t you go feeling sorry for us, Mei-ling! I won’t have it. We’ll manage, just you see, I’ll make sure of that!”
“By stealing?” Oh, Diary, as soon as those words came out, I wanted to eat them up again.
Bess was the old defiant Bess again. “Yes,” she said, “if I have to!” Her face softened when she told me that the kewpie dolls she took were the only presents that her sisters got for Christmas, and she apologized for making me go with her.
It was as if that was the end of it for Bess. She would not say more, except to say that her aunt was a mean-spirited old witch and that she hoped their stay with her would be short.
All day I was so glad that Bess was back. Ivor did not come near me once. Bess made me laugh, imitating the way her aunt scrapes the butter off the bread if Bess spreads it too thickly. But I still do not like what she did, even if I understand now why she did it. It is wrong to take things that do not belong to you. You cannot say that it is right because you need something and cannot get it any other way. If Bess were right then we would not work hard like we do, we would just find a place to steal the money we need. It is our duty to look out for our families, but only honourably. Did I say I was the happiest girl alive, Diary? Well, I am happy but I am also very confused.
Wednesday, January 3
Bess is such a puzzle to me. Again she is acting like nothing happened. She was jolly today, and twice Mr. Hughes reprimanded her for giggling with Ada when she should have been copying from her history textbook. She may not like her aunt, but I think that aunt is taking better care of Bess and Declan than their mother did — their clothes are clean, and Bess has stockings now, and new boots. Perhaps, yesterday, I surprised her into the truth. I have thought long and hard about this, and I have decided something. Bess is and always will be my friend. I will keep her secrets, but I will not ever let myself be drawn into something that is wrong. There, it is written down, so it is for definite.
Miss MacDonald will not be back until next week (which is just as well, Diary, as I have not read her Christmas book yet. I have been so busy!), so I am staying at the Lees’ after school each day until it is time to go to the restaurant. Mrs. Lee is much stronger now, but it is nice to help her prepare their meal, or play with the children. I like the new baby. He has a face like a little dumpling, and his arms and legs are so fat that they have little creases instead of wrists and ankles. Arthur does not like the baby. He says he is ugly and cries too much. I hope Sing-wah has a nicer spirit than Arthur. It will be strange to meet a brother who is already so grown. I long to see him.
Friday, January 5
We have had another letter from Ma. It came yesterday and I felt too sad to write about it then. Baba has spoken to me today and now I feel a little better, but only a little.
She had it written three weeks after the last one, telling us that Grandmother is getting weaker, that she could not wait and would have to borrow some money to pay for a doctor and medicine. She would do this rather than sell one of our mau-tin of land. She said that she hoped that Baba had already sent the money and that it would reach them soon so she could pay the borrowed money back.
Baba explained that it takes time for such things to be arranged, that by now Ma should have received the money he sent. He reminded me how long our journey across the sea had taken, nearly three weeks. I could not help it — my lip trembled and my eyes filled with tears. “Don’t cry, Ah-Mei,” Baba said, and with his thumbs he pressed away my tears from beneath my eyes. “Just wait, the next letter will tell us that all is well.”
I do not question my Baba. Yesterday, though, I needed to know more, so I asked him how long it would be before we could send for Ma and my brother, Sing-wah. He sighed. “I do not know, Ah-Mei. Our savings mount but slowly; there is little left after we pay rent, and send money home.” I thought of Bess then, of what she would do. Perhaps there was a more honourable way than hers. I asked if we could not borrow the money, maybe from a rich merchant like Mr. Mah. Baba laughed, then tweaked my pigtail. His smile at me was sad when he told me that the merchants would fear their money would not be paid back, because all we had to offer as security was our hard work, and in these difficult times with jobs scarce, that is just not enough. Baba’s words fell into my soul like stones dropped into a well.
Saturday, January 6
Oh, it was hard today to be cheerful. My thoughts kept circling round Ma’s letter. I found keeping busy the best thing to be, that way pictures of them did not come into my head. I went with Mr. Chee to the Lees’ after my chores, and played with the children a little.
Then I went to see Yook Jieh. I took my homework with me. I have to do a drawing, a drawing of a building. It is good that drawing is easy for me, because it is a subject that has to be passed, even for high school. I do not think this fair at all. Bess would never pass, even if she wanted to. All her people look like sticks with balloons for heads! I drew while Yook Jieh talked about the bachelors who are coming. Mr. Mah has said he is close to making a decision and she will be married by New Year. I hope it is a good choice.
Mrs. Mah has bought Yook Jieh some beautiful silks to make her wedding outfits. Deep, deep red for the wedding dress, and a lovely gold as well. Yook Jieh’s fingers are skilful. I do not think I am being mean if I say that she is not a pretty girl, but these clothes will make her shine like a star!
Will there come a day, Diary, when I will sew like this? I do not know why, but my mind does not see it.
Sunday, January 7
So many things have happened that I have become forgetful. At the end of last term I wanted to make a little gift for my teachers, but I did not do it. Now I have, and all thanks to Yook Jieh.
She leaned out the doorway today as I passed with Baba, and beckoned me in. Baba just smiled and gave me a gentle shove. I know he worries that I do not see enough girls my own age.
We had such a happy time! Her husband is chosen. His name is Cheung Wan-sheung. She has not seen him, but the Mahs tell her he is a good, hardworking man. I do not know how she can bear not seeing him until her wedding day. I know it is tradition, but it is so hard! I do not know this name, but I will ask Baba and the uncles. She will be his only wife, which is good. He has no wife in China. She was giggling, very excited about being the mistress in her own household. With a grand gesture she said, “Perhap
s, I will have a muui-jaai to do my bidding!” Then her smile faded. She knelt down by her bed and looked at her sewing. I did not know what to say or do, so I sat and gently touched the silk scraps with my finger.
Yook Jieh asked if I wanted them. At first I thought to refuse, but then an idea came to me. I could use them for my gifts. My excitement showed and it was like catching a cold, because Yook Jieh got it too! She helped and now I have a beautiful red silk purse with little drawstrings for Miss MacDonald. Mr. Hughes was more difficult, but Yook Jieh showed me how to roll the hem and make a little pocket handkerchief.
Tuesday, January 9
It is so hard to find time to write. Mr. Hughes keeps giving me more work to take to Miss MacDonald. The restaurant, too, is busy. Many bachelors come — they like Wong Bak’s cooking because it makes them think of home. What is better, but scary, is that we are getting more customers from outside Chinatown. Wong Bak says they are working men so they have big appetites. This is good — big appetites means they spend much money. It is scary because unless Baba or Tsung Sook are there, I am the one who has to serve them. This is not proper, but what can I do? They joke and sometimes say things I do not understand.
Wednesday, January 10
How could I have not said before? My gifts were loved. I’m so proud that I can return kindness with beauty. I was very shy of giving the handkerchief to Mr. Hughes, but Bess kept prodding me until I did. He folded it there and then so that a neat corner stuck out of his suit pocket. It is a lucky colour. I hope it will be a lucky colour for him!
Miss MacDonald, I cannot believe that I have not written about her before now. Three days she has been back. I missed her a lot, because she is the person who understands how I feel about studying. For once she had no questions, just lots of stories about her brother’s family. Her brother was a missionary in China, and Miss MacDonald would like to go herself. I did not know that she has been trying to learn Chinese. She asked if perhaps we may talk a little to each other in Chinese. This makes me happy to say yes, because this is another gift I can give. She loved my little bag, and said she would use it to keep her fob watch in when it was not pinned to her blouse. Today she smiled and patted my arm and said that she had something for me, but had not had time to unpack it until now. She left and came back with a bag full of clothes. They are beautiful, clothes for a girl a little bigger than me, and boots, lovely leather boots. She told me that they were ones her niece had grown out of and wondered if I wanted them. Oh, Diary, I want them so badly, but I did not take them because I must ask Baba about such a magnificent gift.
Friday, January 12
My eyes have stormed with tears so many times, but only when I am alone. No one knows that I am so sad.
Baba said no. He became as angry as I have ever seen him. He shouted at me, Diary, and threatened to forbid me to continue seeing Miss MacDonald. I was very frightened. I have not seen Baba like this since our first days in Gum Shan, the time of our return, when I feared he had become a crazy man. He shouted that Miss MacDonald was trying to buy me, and that she shamed him because her actions showed that she thought he did not provide for me as a decent father should. I became very small and still and my voice would not work. Mr. Chee joined in, saying that the foreign devils wanted our youth. Only Wong Bak spoke reason, and said that all he had heard suggested that she was a good woman, but just did not understand our ways. They are still arguing as I write, Diary. I do not want to write any more.
Monday, January 15
I feel like I have been holding my breath. All weekend Baba was angry. He threatened to go talk to Miss MacDonald himself. I hid the book she gave me for Christmas because that might make him angrier still. I did not even write in you, Diary, because it might remind him of those who are foreign in my life.
I have been a mouse again, trying not to draw attention to myself. I’ve cleaned the room, worked hard in the restaurant, and said little. It worked. I was able to see Miss MacDonald today, but I may not accept the clothes. It rained so hard too. Those boots would have been lovely, but this is what must be.
Tsung Sook is the one I should thank. At the end of the clearing up yesterday, he started talking about Yook Jieh’s betrothal and Cheung Wan-sheung. Baba did not say much, just muttered that perhaps the traditional ways were best.
My breath left my body then. I feared that Baba would forbid me even to go to school!
Tsung Sook’s face went a deep, deep red. “Do you know Cheung Wan-sheung?” he demanded. “He is close to fifty, over three times that poor girl’s age. He is a hard worker, that is true, but he is a skinflint. I heard him boasting how he will take Yook Jieh and they will go to a town in the prairies where there is no Chinese restaurant and that they will work there together to make a life for themselves and their children.” He looked hard at Baba then, and added. “Think of that girl, she speaks no English.”
Oh, Yook Jieh, my heart wailed, you had such fine dreams.
Tsung Sook was not finished. He looked at Baba and then at me. “Tradition is not everything, not here, and you have already shown you know that.”
Baba did not speak to anyone all night.
This morning, as he left for work, he ran his hand over my head and said, “Study hard, Ah-Mei.” Nothing more.
Wednesday, January 17
Baba was very excited when he came into the restaurant tonight. Mrs. Baldwin had shown him in a newspaper that the great Sun Yat-sen has taken all of Kwangtung! Maybe now this will bring peace and Ma and my family there will be safer! I so hope that this will be true. Baba, Wong Bak and Tsung Sook had grins so big their faces would split. They all support Sun Yat-sen and his Kuomintang. If we were able, Baba would give money like Mr. Mah and his friends. Only Mr. Chee grumbled and said that Sun Yat-sen was just another warlord. I do not understand all these politics, Diary, but I hope it will mean good things for my family.
Such excitement drove other thoughts from my head. Today I have been thinking about friends. Mr. Hughes set us an essay to write on what it means to be a friend. My friends, Bess and Yook Jieh, what would they make of each other, I wonder? Both are happy now, which is good.
What does Yook Jieh know about her bridegroom, apart from his name? She was a little tearful, so perhaps people have been talking. My heart ached when she said that she was lucky because Wan-sheung was a good provider, even if he was old. She patted my cheek, and laughed, saying that she was not pretty like me, so couldn’t expect a handsome man. How will I get news of her? She can’t read and write. I do not think that Wan-sheung reads English anyway. Oh, now my heart is truly aching.
Bess — Bess complains and complains about her aunt, but I think secretly she is happy. She has enough food to eat, her clothes are clean. Her mother has found a job, sewing in a factory, and once she has saved money then she will have the four younger children back with her. It is good to see Bess smile so much. She makes me laugh and lets no one get the better of her. I think this is good for me, because she says I am too serious for my own good. She tries to persuade me to hang around the schoolyard with her after school ends, but I tell her I must hurry to take Lily home and then go to Miss MacDonald’s to study. Bess grumbles a little, but then she always walks part of the way with me. Lily loves Bess. We let Lily hold our hands and then swing her as we walk. Ivor has not bothered us, even though he walks the same way. Maybe he has forgotten me. He is very thick with a whole group of the other British boys and seems to be plotting something. I wonder what?
Saturday, January 20
Such a to-do, Diary! Bess thinks my life is exciting. I think it is excitement that no proper person needs. I could not bring myself to write before now. I cried so much that my eyes were swollen. On Friday, at school, Ivor was mean about them, yelling, “No-eyes Chin!” instead of his usual insults. Even now my hand is shaking and it is difficult to hold my pen. It was dreadful, Diary.
On Thursday night I was alone with Wong Bak in the restaurant, because it was quite early. Three Cana
dian men came in, big rough men who swaggered when they walked, and pushed Mr. Chee aside as he hesitated in the doorway. They snapped their fingers and I went over. One of them did all the talking and he ordered so much food that I could not believe that three of them would eat it all. Wong Bak looked at me as if to say is this right, but what could I say?
The men ate noisily, shovelling the food in, calling me over all the time to fetch them more tea. I did not like them. I like them even less now. When they finished eating, they just stood up. Wong Bak rushed over with their bill. The one who talked laughed and took it from him, ripped it into tiny pieces and showered it on Wong Bak’s head. I was so ashamed that they should treat him like this. I wished I was not a girl, that I was strong and could protect Wong Bak. I do not know where my bravery came from, but I spoke up. “You have eaten our food so you must pay us for it!”
They all laughed then, and the one who had ripped the bill said, “Ask the mayor to pay; he’s the one who put us out of work.” I did not understand this, and would have protested, but Wong Bak pulled me away. As they left one of them kicked over the little shrine by the door. That made me cry most of all. He had no need to do that. It was just meanness.
Baba and Tsung Sook were so angry when they came. Tsung Sook was all for going looking for the men, but Wong Bak would not let him. It was Baba who called the police. They came, big men with moustaches like dragon’s whiskers. They had many questions for me. Sobs kept coming instead of words, and the policemen looked at me as if I were stupid. I tried and tried to describe the men. They wrote things down, but nothing will come of it. I do not know why Baba bothered. Sometimes I feel we are of no importance here. The police did tell us that the men were probably town workers who had just lost their jobs. Is that meant to help us? We lost money, money that would go toward our dreams.
Monday, January 22
