by Liu, Cynthea
“Jess?”
Jess turned as she opened the door. “Yeah?”
“If you need help with classes or whatever—”
“No, Cece,” Jess said. “I’ll figure this out on my own.”
“You sure?”
“Definitely.”
When Cece woke the next morning, she glanced at Jess’s bed. It looked exactly like she’d left it the day before. She sighed and got up, trying to put her roommate out of her mind. At least for the time being. Today, she had to finish planning a trip to Beijing.
At lunch, Cece showed Peter the itinerary from Jenny. “This doesn’t look good,” Cece said.
Peter took the paper from Cece and began to read it.
“I thought there’d be a least one chunk of free time while we’re there,” Cece continued. “But we leave Friday night, sleep on the train, get to Beijing the next morning, then we’re scheduled through ten P.M. And Sunday, we’re booked solid from seven in the morning until we take the night train back.”
Peter shook his head as he finished reading the schedule. “This can mean only one thing.”
“We go to the orphanage really early in the morning or late at night, right?”
“No, who’s going to talk to you then?” Peter said.
“Or maybe...” Cece thought about it some more, “we should postpone the trip until I have a free weekend. I think we have one right before our last week.”
“Cece, that is a waste of time and money to make another trip when you will already be there. I think this is very simple.”
Cece’s forehead wrinkled. “It is?”
“You must find a way to depart from this schedule.”
“You mean, like, disappear for a while?”
“That is correct.” Peter held out the paper. “You see here on Saturday, you will travel to the Great Wall, which is outside of Beijing, so it will be too hard to leave. Sunday morning, you will travel away again to visit the Peking Man site, but then—this is the good part—you will return to the Forbidden City for the afternoon. That is in the center of Beijing. So Sunday afternoon would be the time to go.”
“But how? I can’t leave without Jenny and Mark knowing. I’m sure they’ll be checking to see we’re all together as we move from one place to the next.”
“That is what we must figure out. I think you will need to be away for at least three hours to go to the orphanage, stay for a while, and come back.”
“I don’t know,” Cece said. It didn’t sound so simple to her. In fact, it sounded pretty risky. What if she got caught?
“We will definitely need more help,” Peter said.
“More help?” Cece said. “I’ve got you, Da Ge. What more could I need?”
“But I am not even supposed to be in Beijing, remember? If you are going to ‘disappear,’ you will need someone in your program to help you.”
Cece immediately thought of Will and Kallyn. Somehow, involving Will, given how much Jess hung around him, didn’t seem like the best idea. She’d ask Kallyn. “Peter,” she said, “I think that can be arranged.”
Later that day, Cece met Kallyn at a café near the university. It was a modern and loungey kind of place, and all around them students studied, surfed the Net, or chatted with their friends on velvet couches.
“So let me get this straight.” Kallyn leaned forward in her armchair. “You want me to cover for you while you go to the orphanage.”
“Yeah,” Cece said.
Kallyn frowned as she clasped a mug of tea. “Oh, I don’t know, Cece.” She took a sip.
“What?” Cece’s heart sank. How could Kallyn say no?
“Of course, I’ll do it!” Kallyn said. “Are you kidding me?”
“Man.” Cece let out a breath. “You had me there for a second.”
“You know, you really are amazing to do something like this. This is so huge.”
“Don’t get too psyched. Remember, I’m not expecting to learn that much. I mean, I’m hopeful, but it’s been ages since I was there.”
“Oh, Cece,” Kallyn said, excitement in her eyes. “I think you will learn something. It’s like what your dad says. You should see where you grew up for a couple of years. Maybe you’ll get your whole life back in a way, versus only knowing what you’ve known since you’ve been in the States.”
“Yeah... ” Cece said. “I guess you’re right about that. Now all we need is a plausible excuse for me to duck out of the program.” She took out the schedule and passed it to Kallyn. “You got any ideas?”
Kallyn studied the itinerary. “Wait a second.”
“Yeah?”
“How come we’re not visiting the Olympic Village?”
“Kallyn, focus.”
“Oh, sorry.” She continued to read the schedule. “I’ve got it!” She beamed. “Did you see this?” She pointed at the paper. “Looks like we’re having a special meal at the hotel before we visit the Forbidden City.”
“And?”
“Well, we know how you are with certain kinds of Chinese food. I bet there might be an eyeball or two to stare at on your plate.”
“Ugh,” Cece said, cringing.
“Hey, and you might not even have to fake it! I’d be happy to babysit you at the hotel while the rest of the group heads to the Forbidden City.”
Cece smiled. “Kallyn, you are a genius.”
Chapter Eight
With Beijing plans in place, Cece was in great spirits when she changed to go to Peter’s house that evening for dinner. She hummed to herself as she decided on what to wear. Would jeans be too casual? Should she wear a skirt? She decided on a short-sleeve button-down and paired it with a khaki skirt. It was an outfit any parent would approve of. Pleased, Cece headed out of the dorm to the university gate to meet Peter.
Once they got in a cab, Peter tuned to Cece. “I am excited you will meet my parents.”
“So am I,” Cece replied.
“And I am thinking,” Peter added, “that you should ask my father your question.”
“What question?”
“The one about the one-child policy and China’s orphans? See what he thinks. He would know much more than me.”
“I don’t know, Peter,” Cece said. “It’s so personal.” But she had to admit it sounded like a good idea. Perhaps Peter’s father could give her more insight on the issue. “Would he really talk to me about it?”
“Yes,” Peter said, “my father will talk about anything.”
Cece smiled. “I’ll think about it.”
It wasn’t ten minutes more before the taxi let them off. When Cece got out, she noticed the area was similar to that around the university—the streets were lined with restaurants and stores, the sidewalks packed with people. They passed a couple of shops, and Peter stopped in front of one selling DVDs. “This is one of my favorite places.” Several patrons were inside browsing the shelves.
“Is this where you get American movies?” Cece asked.
“Yes. I like to call it my research library.” He grinned, then led Cece off the main street down a narrow alley. The din of the city quieted as they passed several residential walk-ups. The buildings looked so institutional—basic in design and constructed of concrete. Air-conditioning units jutted out of some of the windows, and laundry hung outside on tiny balconies. Up ahead, a stray dog sniffed at the ground, and from a few of the apartments, Cece could hear people talking.
Peter stopped as they came to a barred security door in one of the buildings. He slipped in a key and pushed it open. The door groaned from age, and Cece followed Peter up a dark stairwell. At each landing, she could see three metal doors with peepholes, presumably leading to apartments. Many of the doors had small bags of trash sitting beside them, waiting to be taken down.
When they got to the third landing, Peter stopped in front of a door, unlocked it, and they stepped inside. “Ma, Ba!” Peter called.
The smell of something delicious hit Cece’s nose—aromatic and pungent—some sort o
f meat and garlic maybe? They entered a narrow hall where light spilled from a doorway to the side, and at the end where Cece could see part of a room. Just a beige sofa with lots of cushions. She heard the sound of a cooking vent whirring and a TV blaring in the background. Peter’s parents probably hadn’t heard them come in.
A line of shoes were by the door, and Peter took his off and gestured at Cece to do the same. Then he handed her a pair of slippers.
Obediently, she removed her sandals and put on the slippers. “Is there a reason why we have to take off our shoes?” Cece asked. “Is it superstition or something?”
Peter laughed. “No, it’s because our shoes are dirty. And besides, slippers are more comfortable anyway.”
“So it’s not a custom?”
Peter gave Cece a funny look. “Is it a custom in the U.S. to dirty your floors?”
Cece’s face warmed. “Point taken.”
“Come with me.” Peter stepped through the doorway to the side. Cece could now see the inside of a tiny kitchen with plain walls and open shelves instead of cabinets. At one end of the sparse space, a small lady wearing a cotton shirt and slacks stood in front of a wok.
Peter spoke to his mother, and amid the commotion of her cooking, she glanced back, smiling at Cece. She looked so much like Peter, with the same narrow eyes and the sharp nose. “Ni hao,” she said. How are you?
Cece stammered the phrase back. With only a few weeks of classes under her belt, she wasn’t quite comfortable with speaking Chinese outside of school just yet. She hoped Mrs. Lu wouldn’t notice how bad her accent was.
Peter’s mother nodded, then absentmindedly touched her hair. She spoke rapid-fire Chinese to her son, and Cece caught only a couple of words. Go. Wait? Huh? It was much too fast.
“We’d better get out,” Peter explained. “My mother is not quite ready. We should wait in the other room.”
Cece smiled at Mrs. Lu and left the kitchen, following Peter down the hall. They passed a few closed doors to the right. “Our bathroom and bedrooms,” Peter explained. They reached the room at the end, and a man was sitting in a rickety chair, facing an old TV set. In the corner was a table set up with bowls, saucers, and chopsticks. She guessed that Peter’s apartment didn’t have a separate dining area. The place was pretty small. As soon as Peter’s father saw them, he grinned widely and hurried to turn off the television. Cece noticed that Peter and his dad had the same smile, and for a fleeting moment, she felt envious of the strong features Peter shared with his parents. If only she knew what her birth parents looked like.
“Hello!” Peter’s father said. His voice boomed, filling the entire apartment.
Peter introduced Cece. “Ba, zhe shi Cece.” He turned to her. “Cece, you can call him Lu Laoshi. He is a professor at Xi’an Polytechnic.”
“Ni hao, Lu Laoshi.” Cece said, trying to pronounce each word as confidently as possible.
“I am fine,” Lu Laoshi said. “How are you?”
“You speak English?” Cece replied.
“Of course,” he said. “I learn in college. Like Peter. It is not so good, but it is good enough.”
“My dad is a professor, too,” Cece said, happy to have a connection with Peter’s father. “He teaches paleontology.”
Peter’s father looked confused. “Paleontology... ”
“Dinosaur bones,” Peter explained.
“Ah, I see. I teach hua xue, chemistry.”
“Wow,” Cece replied. Chemistry was one of the hardest subjects she had ever taken. “I wish my dad taught that. I could have used the help.”
Lu Laoshi smiled just as Peter’s mother came in, her hair now smoothed into a neat bun. She held a couple of platters loaded with steaming food. She set them on the table. “Duibuqi, bu hao yisi. Rang ning deng, ah. Qing zuo, qing zuo.”
“Mrs. Lu says she is sorry for the wait.” Lu Laoshi gestured at a chair. “Please have a seat.”
Cece sat down, and Peter and his father joined her at the table. Before Cece could even study what was laid before her, Peter’s mother asked, “Ning yao he shenme?. . . Cha, shui, ke kou ke le?”
This time, Cece got it. Peter’s mom was asking what she would like to drink. It was right out of her lessons from the week before. Cece asked for tea, always appropriate for a Chinese meal.
“Please excuse my wife,” Lu Laoshi said. “She knows very little English. And she is much too embarrassed to speak it.”
“I understand,” Cece replied. “My Chinese isn’t great either. My brain could explode any minute.”
Peter’s father laughed.
“But you are doing well,” Peter said. “Remember, you have a great tutor, right?”
“Oh, right,” Cece said, smiling.
Soon Mrs. Lu returned with tea for everyone, and she sat at the table, a cheerful expression on her face.“Women kaishi ba. Qing yong.”
Peter’s family picked up their chopsticks. Cece did the same.
Laid before her were two plates of dumplings, but unlike the potstickers Cece had had in the States, these were more delicate and translucent. There was also another platter of roasted beef and egg, and a plate of radishes.
“This is traditional welcome meal,” Peter’s father said. “Jiaozi—dumplings. The rest are cold dishes to eat with dumplings. Please. Try.”
Cece aimed her chopsticks at the closest dumpling, but it was one of the slipperiest things ever. Thankfully, she managed to balance one on her chopsticks, and she took a bite. The dumpling burst with warm juices in her mouth. Cece tasted cilantro and steamed pork—delicious!
“This is very good,” she said to Mrs. Lu.
“Nali, nali,” Mrs. Lu said modestly, which Cece had learned in class was a polite way of saying thank you when given a compliment.
“So Cece, how you like Xi’an?” Lu Laoshi said.
“It’s been wonderful so far,” Cece replied. She told him about how Peter took them to the Muslim district and her trip to the City Walls. As they talked and ate, Peter translated so Mrs. Lu could keep up. Lu Laoshi asked Cece how her home city in the States compared to Xi’an.
“Well, Dallas is definitely way more spread out than here,” Cece explained. “Mostly, I have to drive everywhere. It’s a little hotter, but the people are just as friendly.”
Finally, Mrs. Lu spoke up, and Peter translated. “My mom wants to know how your family got to the States.”
Lu Laoshi nodded. “I want to know, too.”
“Oh,” Cece said.
Peter gave her an encouraging look.
Cece twisted the napkin in her hand. “I’m adopted. So I guess you could say my parents just flew me home on a plane.”
Peter translated for his mother.
“Ah,” she said.
“This trip to China is very special for you then,” Lu Laoshi said. “You have come home.” He raised his cup of tea toward Cece. “Welcome, welcome.”
Cece smiled as everyone raised their tea cups and clinked them. For the first time since she arrived in China, she was beginning to feel at home.
When they set down their cups, Peter caught her eye.
Cece stared at him. “What?”
“Ask my father your question. Now is a good time.”
Peter’s dad looked at her. “What question, Cece?”
Cece glanced at the table. There were only a few dumplings left. Mrs. Lu was already beginning to clear the dishes. Cece gathered her courage. “Well...”
“Go ahead, Cece,” Lu Laoshi said, smiling. “My mind is open book.”
Cece took in a breath. “Well, Peter and I were talking about my adoption, and I’ve been told that many parents here want boys instead of girls. Do you think that’s true?”
Lu Laoshi looked thoughtfully at Cece before he answered. At last he said, “You must understand traditional Chinese way of thinking. My own parents are good example. I have three sisters. I am youngest. But I carry family name, yes?”
Cece nodded, though she didn’t like where t
he conversation was heading.
“And when Peter was born, his grandparents very, very happy. We are happy, too, of course. He is our child.
“And for many people here, especially in countryside, if child is girl, grandparents not so happy because the family name does not go on. Older generation has much power in family decision.”
“I understand,” Cece said. But in all honesty, she didn’t. Why didn’t the parents just stand up for themselves?
“So yes, I think many girls abandoned for this reason. China knows this is big problem. The government has changed one-child policy. Now if couple’s first child is girl, they can try again for boy.”
“But doesn’t that just mean China’s second girls are given up?”
“Well. . . ” Lu Laoshi looked uncomfortable. “It is true it will not solve the problem. But it will help. China cannot move too fast or the population will become unmanageable. However, remember this, Cece. Not every parent is the same. I know if my child was a girl, I would not abandon to have boy.”
“You wouldn’t?” Cece said.
“No.”
At this, Cece felt a glimmer of hope.
“Of course, there are people my age who are different. Traditional thinking is still here. It is part of our culture. But it is less and less. Now China has so few girls, it is hard for boys to marry. Many think girls have become more special, and they are treated like queens. Right, Peter?”
“Yes, and they know it, too,” he groaned.
“So over time, maybe things will come into balance,” Lu Laoshi said. “That’s what we hope. Did I answer your question?”
Cece nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
“Good.” He put his hands together. “Now we have traditional dessert,” he said as Mrs. Lu set down a plate of sliced oranges.
As each of them took a slice off the plate, Cece pondered what she had just learned. Though she hadn’t completely gotten the answer she had hoped for, she wasn’t exactly disappointed, either. Lu Laoshi had said that not everyone was the same, but she hoped that her birth parents might be a lot like them.
