Paper Wife

by Laila Ibrahim

  She’d been foolishly naïve to believe the story she’d been told. Bo might not even be his son, but a paper son Kai Li was paid to bring over. This man’s name might not even be Kai Li. They were a good match, not because they were an Ox and a Rabbit, but because they were both deceitful.

  He was a paper merchant and she was a paper wife. Her family willingly gave up Confucian teachings about living an honorable life to secure her future. It hadn’t been her decision to marry this man. Duty required that she respect her parents and go along with their wishes for her, but she feared they were foolish to surrender her to these circumstances.

  Mei Ling had been hesitant to tell Kai Li about the child growing within her. Now she understood why: she didn’t trust him. She knew that Pasha had spoken the truth—this baby would be born a girl. Too many men didn’t greet their daughters with joy, and Kai Li might be one of them. Mei Ling had to prepare an escape in case her husband demanded that they end the girl’s life, or if he abandoned her once their daughter was born.

  She tapped the coins from her grandmother against her leg. They felt like a talisman of safety. Just as one of them got her through Angel Island, she hoped they would help her to find a safe place to be away from this man if he proved to be entirely untrustworthy. She didn’t know how far the money would go to keep her and Bo safe, and the daughter who was on the way, but the coins gave her a sense of security.

  Mei Ling took a calming breath and told Kai Li what she thought he wanted to hear: “Husband, we must do what we must to survive in these difficult times. I understand.”

  He sighed and smiled at her, looking much relieved, but Mei Ling knew better than to trust how he looked or what he said.

  That night Siew visited Mei Ling in a dream. Siew’s little face pressed against a mesh screen like the ones on the windows in the Angel Island barracks, but somehow large prison bars too. The girl pushed her arms all the way through the gaps, up to her shoulders, reaching for Mei Ling, but an invisible veil separated them. Sorrow filled Mei Ling’s sleeping heart. Slowly Siew’s face grew more and more desperate until it utterly transformed. Her bright eyes hardened until they were dark stones in her sockets. Then Siew’s fingers grew sharp bear claws. She slashed at the invisible veil but couldn’t remove it. Fear joined the sorrow, and Mei Ling startled awake. Her heart trotting like a goat, she looked around the still-dark, still-dank room.

  Her husband, that virtual stranger, lay on her right side. Bo dozed on her left. A trickle ran down her cheek. Slowly, carefully she slid from the bed. She dug out the picture of her family and her statue of Quan Yin. Desperate to find strength and faith she made an altar in the corner of the room, despite her husband’s devotion to Christ. She kowtowed to Quan Yin and her family, surrendering her fear and sorrow, doing loving kindness meditations for Siew and Kai Li, and asking for strength for herself and harmony in her new family.

  When Kai Li rose, Mei Ling prepared him tea and rice. She would fulfill her duty toward him. Perhaps he would do his duty as well. Time would reveal if this was a real marriage.

  His eyes took in the altar in the corner without comment, his expression flat. She was relieved, as she had no need to speak of it.

  “Chinatown is small, only a few blocks. There are some bad places very nearby, not suitable for an honorable wife,” Kai Li explained. “The streets are fine, but stay away from the alleys besides this one . . . especially Bartlett Alley. It has only bad women.”

  Mei Ling understood his meaning. She nodded.

  “And the post office. Do you know where that is?” she asked. “I wish to mail a letter to my family.”

  His cheeks burned red, in shame or anger she didn’t know. He told her the directions to the post office, advised her on the best market, and left her some coins.

  “Tomorrow I will go to the produce market in Oakland,” he said. “I rise when it’s still dark, and you don’t need to wake so early. I’ll shop for you when I do the shopping for my employer.”

  Mei Ling nodded. Then Kai Li left for nearby Nob Hill, where he worked six days a week as a houseboy in a mansion. Her husband was only just above a lowly laborer in social standing.

  When Bo was awake and ready to go out for the day, Mei Ling tied him to her back. They were going to explore this foreign land together. She would learn about their new city, looking for Siew as she went. And try to discover how she might survive here should Kai Li prove to be an unreliable husband.

  She followed Kai Li’s directions to the post office. A long line of Chinese people held packages and envelopes, waiting for their turn to speak with a clerk. Mei Ling watched carefully so she would know what to do when she made it to the front. Both clerks spoke Cantonese, so she was able to follow their interactions. So far no one had asked for any letters; they either left their mail or bought stamps. She rehearsed what she was going to say.

  When her turn came she told the lady at the counter, “I’d like to mail this letter to my ancestral village near Guangzhou. Please.”

  “You only want the one stamp?” the woman asked without looking at Mei Ling.

  “Do I need more than one?” Mei Ling asked.

  The woman replied, “Do you want to mail more than one letter?”

  “No. Just the one. To let my family know I’m here, safe.” Mei Ling’s voice broke. She cleared her throat.

  The Chinese woman looked up and studied Mei Ling. “Is this your first day?”

  Mei Ling nodded, feeling self-conscious.

  “Welcome. It’s good here; don’t let anyone get you down,” the woman advised; then she said, “Six cents. For the letter. It will take two months to get there.”

  Mei Ling nodded. Two months. So much time and so much money. But that was all she had to stay connected to her family, besides her meditations.

  “Is there any mail for me? Wong Lew She,” she asked, her heart quickening with desire and her tongue tripping over the false name.

  The woman shook her head, but she had not even looked for a letter.

  She explained, “The mail will be brought to your house. Did you give your family the street and number?”

  Mei Ling nodded.

  “It will be left there soon after it arrives here,” the woman said.

  Mei Ling must have looked confused, because the woman laughed.

  “There are many surprises here. The first year is the hardest, but it gets better after that. I know—I talk to people just off the boat every day.”

  Mei Ling slid a few coins and the envelope to the woman. “Thank you,” she said. “For your kindness and for the information.”

  The woman smiled with a nod and beckoned the next customer forward.

  Mei Ling walked up a steep hill toward the shop where her husband suggested she buy produce. Along the way she pointed out the colorful lanterns and buildings to Bo. She found the store but kept walking. Before they shopped, they were going to the Ferry Building in case Siew was on the morning boat. Perhaps Suk Suk would be waiting for the girl and they could plan a visit.

  They came upon a short street with tall, dramatic buildings painted in bright colors. They had porches and banners waving from them. A temple dedicated to Tin How was bustling with petitioners coming and going. Mei Ling vowed to return after shopping to leave an offering of oranges to thank the sea goddess for their safe arrival to this land. Some buildings had words carved into their façades. She read Wong Family, Hip Sing Tong. They must be the benevolent associations that provided assistance to the people in those clans.

  Mei Ling walked up Grant, a thriving commercial street with bright-red lanterns hanging overhead, and turned toward the bay on Jackson. The contrasts in this small neighborhood were dramatic. A few steps later she was stopped short by what she saw. Bartlett Alley, the one Kai Li had warned her about, was a short block away from Grant but another world entirely. She stared down the dark and muddy lane. Women’s faces peered through bar-covered windows. One girl-woman caught Mei Ling’s eye. Her slender fing
ers were pushed through the mesh screen and her dark-brown eyes were devoid of hope. She gave a little wave with her pointer finger. Mei Ling sucked in her breath. She rushed away, but the girl-woman’s face hung in her mind’s eye.

  Her legs were shaky, making it difficult to navigate down the steep hill with Bo on her back. She breathed a sigh when she got to the Embarcadero. A White man growled something as he passed her, causing her heart to speed up again. She didn’t understand his English, but his tone was clearly threatening. She sped up until she reached the spot where she and Bo had waited for Kai Li the day before. It was nearly deserted. She was the only woman in sight.

  She untied Bo and led him to the rocks by the edge of the water. He climbed up a boulder and squawked at the seagulls.

  A different White man walked up to them and sneered, “--- --- ------- --- - ------?” Then he laughed and walked away.

  You are not welcome here. The message was loud and clear even without a shared language. On the deserted landing, she was vulnerable to this unwanted attention and disdain. She took in a shaky breath and pushed aside her fears. Looking out at the bay she thought of Siew on Angel Island. She imagined what she might be doing. Mei Ling’s improbable hope was that Siew was boarding the boat after her interview. She imagined the surprise and delight on the little girl’s face to find her and Bo waiting to welcome her to San Francisco. If not that unlikely situation, perhaps she and Great Auntie were meeting with Ma Maurer for English lessons.

  Mei Ling felt someone’s eyes on her. She turned just a little to see a group of White men glaring at them. Adrenaline rushed through her body. They weren’t safe here.

  “Come, Bo!” she yelled to her son. She scooped him up and rushed away, not bothering to bind him to her back.

  Relief flooded through her when they crossed the border into Chinatown. She wanted to greet Siew as she landed, but not if it meant risking Bo’s safety. The girl would have to find her at church, or they might see each other on the street. Chinatown wasn’t very large. It wouldn’t take too long for them to cross paths.

  Mei Ling and Bo explored Chinatown for several days. She looked for an open field or empty lot with children playing but didn’t find any space where Bo could run freely. All of the ground in Chinatown was covered with pavement and buildings. In China, even a big city like Guangzhou had such a place.

  Mei Ling found clay pots for the three living stalks from Mah-ma. One of the peonies had died during the journey, but the other three plants were holding on to life. She considered using one of her own coins for the purchase, but she didn’t want Kai Li to know she had her own money. Instead she asked Kai Li’s permission to use some of the grocery funds. He agreed that it would be a good use of their food funds, since the plants would bring them soothing and healthy tea when they took root and flourished.

  Mei Ling kept a constant watch for Siew. Each time she spied a girl with dark hair in a bob, her heart pounded in hope it might be her, but every face was a disappointment.

  One day Mei Ling wandered the other direction on Stockton Street and found great entertainment for Bo. The street ended with a wide tunnel that electric cars and the occasional auto drove through. Pedestrians would walk on the sides or go to the top of the tunnel to an elegant balcony that was curiously out of place. Just a block past the staircase was the cable line on California Street. Mei Ling found a curb to sit on and they watched the cars drive by. Bo waved at the conductors and was occasionally rewarded with the sound of a bell.

  They explored farther down the steep hill until they came to Union Square, a fancy shopping district with a public plaza in the middle. She hoped this might be a nice place for Bo to run freely; the looks and comments they received let her know that they were out of place. They would return to California Street to watch the cable cars go by, but that would be their boundary.

  Mei Ling had never been so companionless. She had no one to speak with besides the young boy. There were no school friends, no villagers, no family to share her life with.

  Kai Li was tender and kind—to the point that her heart and mind started to believe he might be a faithful husband despite his initial deception. Each night he returned home exhausted, but he always asked about her satisfaction with the day. She found herself looking forward to his companionship, but she reminded herself to remain cautious and watchful.

  Mei Ling wrote faithfully to her family but didn’t share the full truth of her living situation. There was no need to cause them concern or regret. Each day she looked in the basket in the entryway, hoping for a letter in return, but she had yet to hear from them. Her greatest comfort came each morning and night when she kowtowed to her altar, asking the ancestors and Quan Yin for strength and guidance.

  When she began to feel anger or sorrow for her life circumstances, she reminded herself that Mah-ma had lost so much—her home and two of her children—yet managed to keep her equanimity. Mei Ling desired to do no less.

  She’d placed the picture of the three of them, Kai Li, Bo, and herself, next to the picture of her family in China. She took comfort in the thought that her mother, sister, and grandmother looked at the same picture so many miles away. Until she got a letter from them, that thought was her best solace.

  Mei Ling made dinner each night, but none of them enjoyed her meals. Many times Kai Li ate hardly any of the food she put on his plate, and she could tell that he was forcing himself to eat the little that he did. It was demoralizing, but she agreed. She tried to prepare tasty meals, but her food was as bad as the offerings on Angel Island and the steamer. The baby inside her didn’t add to the strength of her appetite.

  On Sunday her loneliness was assuaged a bit. Kai Li stayed home, and she looked forward to an entire day together. He dressed in his suit for church and suggested she wear Western clothes as well. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she hadn’t considered all that it would mean to be in a Christian family.

  Mei Ling nodded. She was nervous to go to church. If she acted improperly in the foreign place, one of her lies might be revealed to Kai Li. But she also hoped that Siew would be there since she had written the name of this church on the paper that she had given to Siew. If she was no longer on the island, Suk Suk might bring her there. And perhaps Mei Ling would make an acquaintance, or even a friend, in a Christian church.

  Her palms were slippery from nerves as they walked through the doors of the building. They walked upstairs to the second floor. She studied those around her and followed Kai Li’s lead closely. Bo was awed into silence by the large public space. Perhaps he had never been to a Christian worship before either.

  The sanctuary was cool and dark in a comforting way, though there were no candles to light and no altar with gods. They slid onto a wooden bench with a back. They faced a metal sculpture with a cross in the middle surrounded by metal vines that curved out ending in candleholders shaped like pretend flames. When the music stopped a White man wearing a robe stood up. He spoke for a long time in Cantonese. His words were difficult to follow and provided no comfort. She stopped struggling to listen to him and looked around the room, examining the little girls who might be Siew. Suddenly, the crowd stood up in unison and the organ started to play. She leaped up, pulling Bo to stand as well.

  Kai Li picked up a bound book and turned it to a specific page. He held it up for her to see. He must have had the words memorized, because he sang out in a lovely voice. A sweet tingle ran down her back.

  She looked at the people surrounding her—strangers, singing together. A gray-haired woman in the row ahead slid her arm through the crook of the old man she stood beside. Mei Ling felt her heart open a bit. Perhaps she would be so familiar with her husband someday. Mei Ling looked back at the book and followed the printed words. Soon she dared to add her own voice to the singers.

  The song ended too soon and they sat once again. The minister spoke, and she drifted into her own thoughts until two familiar names caught her attention: Donaldina Cameron and Tien Wu.
<
br />   She recognized them from the paper Jui Lan had asked her to read on the island. The flier had said they tortured Chinese girls, but this minister praised them for serving the Chinese community. He said they assisted girls and women escaping from forced prostitution or facing abandonment by their husbands. He asked that they bring donations to the nearby Presbyterian Mission House.

  Abandoned by their husbands. The phrase jarred Mei Ling back to reality. She looked at Kai Li as he stared ahead at the minister. She rubbed her belly and greeted the little one growing in her. Mei Ling had to stay wary and alert, not be lulled by her hopes that Kai Li would be a devoted and reliable husband and father. She’d keep walking the double path of creating a harmonious marriage while finding a means of surviving without him. This week she’d bring an offering to the Mission House to pave the way should she need to escape there when this daughter was born.

  Eventually the service ended. Kai Li led them away before she had a chance to speak with anyone, dashing her hope that she might meet a few Chinese ladies for companionship. She stopped at the doorway for a last scan for Siew but didn’t see the girl.

  Finally, on August 10, weeks and weeks after she’d left her family in China, Mei Ling’s chest exploded in excitement when she saw Jah Jeh’s precise characters on an envelope addressed to Wong Lew She. Rushing up the stairs, she hardly noticed whether Bo was keeping up with her. She forced herself to open the envelope carefully lest she tear the precious letter. Her hands shook as she read.

  April 15, 1923

  Treasured sister,

  Your family thanks you for sharing news of your life with us. The photo with your handsome husband and healthy son has a place of honor in our home. Your words brought Hong Kong to life. We feel as if we have been there ourselves. You have had an amazing adventure.

  Village life hasn’t changed. We are cultivating our own rice now and may have extra to sell at the markets. The sweet potatoes, peanuts, and lychee have been planted, so we are hopeful for plenty to harvest soon. Please don’t laugh at your sister, but you would hardly recognize me in my straw hat and peasant clothes. I have found that I don’t mind working in the sun.