Paper Wife

by Laila Ibrahim

  A teenager opened the door.

  Kai Li asked, “Is Mr. Lee home?”

  The boy shook his head.

  Kai Li looked back at Mei Ling. “Ask about Siew!” she whispered.

  “Does Lee Puey You live here?” Kai Li used the legal name from the boat.

  The boy shook his head.

  Mei Ling burst out, “Siew? Does Siew live here?”

  The boy’s face contracted in pity that bordered on contempt. “No. There is no Puey You who lives here. And no Siew either.”

  Mei Ling’s heart sank. She sighed. “Thank you for your trouble,” she said.

  The boy closed the door on her hope. She walked away, deflated.

  They stopped at their old apartment to look for a letter from Mei Ling’s family. It tugged at her heart to enter the building that Joy was born in, but she was glad to be out of this damp and crowded building. The basket in the entryway disappointed her by having nothing with her name. She’d left a note with her new address at the post office and one in the basket. Perhaps a letter from her family was on its way to her in Oakland.

  Before walking downhill to the ferry they visited Golden Imports, the shop that sold Mei Ling’s embroidered table runners and caps. She’d never been there, but now that Mei Ling was in Oakland, Mrs. Woo was unable to act as the delivery person. Mei Ling looked forward to finally meeting the owner. Mei Ling was surprised and happy to see one of her runners displayed in the window. She remembered the challenge of getting the tail feathers on those pheasants twisted around each other just right.

  “So much money!” Kai Li gasped.

  Mei Ling looked at the dangling tag. Her heart shot up through her head. Could that be right?

  “I’m paid nearly a tenth of that amount,” she whispered. She looked at Kai Li, incredulity covering her face.

  “Are you certain this is your work?” he asked.

  She nodded decisively.

  “Let’s approach with caution,” he said. “Like gentle rabbits.” He smiled tenderly, causing her heart to do a flip. He believed he was speaking of her, but that was her sister. She felt shame that she was lying to him, and then wondered whether he was still deceiving her as well. She inhaled slowly to calm herself and covered her emotion with a tight smile.

  The store was crammed with treasures. Statues of Buddha and Quan Yin in various sizes and many materials filled the shelves to the left. On the right they passed through aisles of goods for the kitchen: beautiful and plain bowls, plates, chopsticks, and knives. Mei Ling scooped up Bo and handed him to Kai Li. She didn’t want him breaking objects they didn’t have the means to pay for.

  A kind-looking older gentleman approached them. “I have only the finest goods in the store. You can be assured you are purchasing quality when you buy here. What can I help you find?” He spoke in perfect Cantonese, but Mei Ling detected an American accent. He’d been born in the States.

  “My wife, the seamstress who embroiders some of your goods,” Kai Li replied, “wanted to meet you.”

  The man looked at Mei Ling, his eyebrows pulled up in doubt. “You must be mistaken. I personally select all of my embroidered goods. We have never met.”

  “This one,” Mei Ling burst out. “I made this one.”

  “No. No.” The man shook his head. “Mrs. Woo brought that to me. She is most skilled. Whatever she brings me sells very, very quickly.”

  “Mrs. Woo told you it is her work?” Mei Ling challenged, her heart clenching like a Dragon’s claw.

  “It’s her work,” the man insisted.

  Mei Ling took two runners and three caps from her bag.

  “Oh,” the man exclaimed. “I see.” There was no doubting it. Mei Ling’s unique style proved what she was saying.

  “I am happy to buy from you directly,” the man said. “Mrs. Woo can be forgiven for keeping her discovery to herself. We each do what we must to survive, but I have no need for a middle person.”

  The man gave a hearty chuckle. Obviously he found this amusing, but Mei Ling was outraged and embarrassed that she had allowed herself to be used like that. She’d misplaced her trust in that old woman, believing that she was looking out for Mei Ling’s well-being when in fact she was using Mei Ling for her own purposes.

  The man disappeared behind the curtain, returning with American money in his hand.

  “Three caps, two runners?” he asked, looking directly at her, which confirmed her suspicion that he was American born.

  She held his gaze and nodded. He handed her a ten-dollar bill and four silver dollars—four times what Mrs. Woo had been paying her. She could always earn this rate—if she was willing to take the ferry to San Francisco. She waited a beat, expecting him to give her plain caps or runners as Mrs. Woo had, but he didn’t. He just stared at her. She would have to sew them herself. But even with the cost of silk and the ferry, she would come out ahead.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  She started to shake her head, but then asked, “Would you like me to make anything special for you?”

  The man looked at her, his eyes moving back and forth in consideration. He pulled down his brows and nodded.

  “I would be most grateful for a wedding gown for my daughter. The ceremony is September 14,” he replied.

  “It will be my honor,” Mei Ling replied with a smile, quickly planning in her head. “American style or traditional Chinese?” she asked.

  The man sighed. “My wife will want Chinese. My daughter, American.”

  “Ask each of them what is most important to them. I can combine both,” Mei Ling said. “I will strike the perfect balance. Your wife and your daughter will be happy. I promise. Then you will be happy.”

  He nodded and smiled. “So I will be seeing more of you directly?” he asked.

  “You will,” she confirmed.

  She walked away, glowing in satisfaction. They had an address in Oakland that she sensed would lead to Siew, and she was going to earn even more money to support her family. She had earned enough today that she would send five dollars in her next letter to China and was optimistic they could spare more after she was paid for the gown. Feeling in harmony with life and with her husband, she smiled at Kai Li and he beamed back.

  CHAPTER 19

  Oakland

  July 1924

  By the time they got home it was far too late to knock on a stranger’s door. She burned with impatience, but Mei Ling would have to wait until the next day to discover whether Siew lived just blocks away from them.

  The next morning Kai Li went for his produce at the usual time. But instead of walking across the bridge to peddle the goods in Alameda, he returned home.

  He pushed the cart laden with colorful fruits and vegetables into their backyard. Mei Ling feared his employer would be angry, but Kai Li assured her that he had that much autonomy. As soon as it was fully light outside, their family walked to Harrison Street.

  The house was lovely. Freshly painted in bright colors, red-and-yellow paint showed off the architectural details of the ornate Victorian trim. This was the house of a well-off family. Mei Ling felt a warm relief. Siew would be well cared for in this home.

  Anticipation walked with her up the twelve stairs to the narrow front door. Kai Li knocked. In a short time the door swung open. Her heart leaped in excitement when Suk Suk’s large face peered out at her. Then it sank as confusion drew his thick, dark eyebrows together. Eventually he placed her, and his eyes went wide in alarm, his face flushing red. In embarrassment? Anger? She couldn’t tell.

  He rushed out onto the porch and slammed the door behind him. Glaring at Mei Ling, he asked, “What business do you have here?”

  Kai Li spoke up. “My wife would like to assure herself that your niece, Siew, is well.”

  “She is,” Suk Suk barked at her. “I will send your regards.”

  “May we see her?” Mei Ling implored, pushing past her fear. “Bo is so fond of her and misses her.” Mei Ling’s voice caught. Me too, she
thought.

  “No.” The man opened the door and vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

  Mei Ling blinked at the red door. She wanted to pound on it, to yell for Siew, but suppressed that urge.

  Bo looked at her longingly and his little voice asked, “Siew?”

  Enraged and heartbroken, Mei Ling took a shaky breath. Kai Li placed a gentle hand on her arm.

  “We can try again another day, wife.”

  She nodded, blinking back tears. They were painfully close, and yet too far away from finding the answer she needed to sleep well.

  They trudged back to their home, Mei Ling’s heart so heavy she couldn’t speak. Kai Li walked into the backyard for his cart. Mei Ling, Bo, and Joy stood on the sidewalk waiting for him. Mei Ling watched a bird fly into a nest, its beak full of black mush. Three baby birds, their feathers all in, chirped at the parent.

  Kai Li maneuvered the bulky cart past the side of their building. Stacks of colorful vegetables and fruits filled the bed. Kai Li picked up Bo and pointed to the produce: greens, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, lemons, limes, and even bananas.

  Kai Li picked up a small bright-red fruit and handed it to Bo. “Try this. It’s delicious.”

  Tentatively Bo nibbled at it. Then his eyes shone in delight. He shoved the rest in his mouth.

  Kai Li laughed. “Not the stem, the green part. We don’t eat that.”

  Bo pulled it back out. Her husband handed one of the little fruits to Mei Ling with a smile. His tenderness nearly caused her tears to spill over. He saw that her heart was heavy.

  She bit into the small fruit. Her taste buds delighted in the sweet, tangy flavor.

  “Strawberry,” Kai Li explained with a grin. “It’s called a strawberry.”

  “Awberry!” Bo repeated. “Yum.”

  Kai Li offered Mei Ling the basket of fruit with a slight bow. Mei Ling accepted it gratefully. He put Bo back on the ground, kissed Joy, and squeezed Mei Ling’s arm in affection. He grabbed the handles of his wooden cart and wheeled it down the street. She watched him walk away with a strong mixture of emotions in her heart. Perhaps she loved this man, the mysterious peddler with a kind heart. There was so much she didn’t know about him, and so much he didn’t know about her, but she was certain about his concern for her and the children.

  At the park that afternoon, Mei Ling told June about her morning. She worked on a cap, enjoying the afternoon sun and fresh air while their children played. Joy crawled around her feet, going three arm lengths away before she scampered back toward them.

  “Where is the house?” June asked.

  “Harrison at Twelfth,” Mei Ling explained.

  “On the corner? The big yellow with red. Fancy, fancy house?”

  Mei Ling nodded.

  “Ah, that is Jack Wong’s home,” June said.

  “Yes!” Mei Ling replied. “Suk Suk is Jack Wong.”

  “He is not a good man.” June leaned in and whispered in that tone she reserved for prostitutes on the island. “He gamble, gamble all the time. His wife is scared, scared.”

  “How do you know this?”

  June pointed to her ear. “June listen, always listen to learn. His children go to Lincoln School too. We mothers talk, talk all the time, but his wife never join us.”

  Mei Ling asked, “Have you ever seen Siew at Lincoln School?”

  “No. I would have said so, right?” June replied with a tsk. “I would not ask you about Siew—but tell you about her.”

  “If she lives with them she can go to Lincoln School, right?”

  “Yes,” June replied, reservation in her voice.

  Mei Ling stared at her friend, encouraging her to continue speaking.

  “She is young,” June explained. “Maybe too young for school and they send her later or . . .”

  Mei Ling nodded, her heart constricted, waiting for June to continue.

  “Or . . . maybe they never send her to school. Maybe they bring her to be a servant and just say she is a niece for the Americans.”

  Mei Ling sighed. June was right. Stories from the boat weren’t to be trusted. Siew might very well be a paper niece.

  “It looks like a nice home for Siew, even if she is a servant, but seeing her would be a relief,” Mei Ling said.

  “Some people like to pretend they have no past,” June replied. “It may be for a good reason, but he is not a very nice man.”

  Mei Ling teared up.

  “Siew is a good girl,” June declared. “I will find out if she is happy.”

  Mei Ling smiled at her friend. “Thank you. Very much.”

  Two days later, June had news. “I asked his wife about the little girl that was with him. I mention that we were bunk neighbors on the boat and on the island. I say she is a very nice girl. It must be nice to have her working in your home.”

  Mei Ling perked up in hope. “What did she say?”

  “She says she does not know who I am talking about.”

  “What?”

  With her mouth in a frown and her head shaking from side to side, June replied, “Siew does not live with them; the wife knows nothing about her.”

  Mei Ling’s throat was so tight she could hardly breathe.

  “I do not think she is lying to me, but I can tell she was angry, angry at the question,” June said. “Even though I ask nice.”

  June patted Mei Ling’s leg in sympathy, but it didn’t help assuage her feelings. Instead of alleviating her concern, this information added to it. If he had ensured an honorable future for Siew, Jack Wong would be willing to share her location. Her Dragon was roaring and burning with desire to learn the truth.

  The next morning she returned to the corner in front of Suk Suk’s house. She was going to come to this corner and stand there with her children until he told here where Siew was. He owed her that after she cared for Siew for all those weeks.

  She stared up at the house with Joy tied to her back. Bo played peekaboo with his sister. Mei Ling’s legs grew tired, so she paced back and forth. The street was quiet, though a few people passed by. After an hour she felt foolish. He probably wasn’t aware that she was there. Perhaps this was futile, but she couldn’t just let Siew go.

  Just as her stomach was telling her it was time for lunch, the door opened. Her body went on alert. A middle-aged woman came out. She stared at Mei Ling, but didn’t say anything as she passed by.

  Mei Ling stayed for as long as she could manage it, but Bo needed a nap and they all needed to eat. She led them back home but vowed to Siew, We will keep looking for you.

  They returned the next day. And the next. Mei Ling didn’t tell Kai Li about their mornings because she didn’t want him to chastise her for her foolishness. Also, if he didn’t know, he couldn’t forbid her from pursuing information about Siew the only way she knew how.

  One the fifth day, the door opened. Suk Suk’s angry face glared at her. Perhaps he had been aware of her vigil for some time. He marched down the stairs, Mei Ling’s pulse quickening with each step. Afraid of him and yet excited she might get her answer, she took a calming breath, not that it succeeded in slowing her heartbeat. He marched uncomfortably close to her, a threat in his carriage.

  “What are you doing here?” he challenged.

  “Tell me where she is, and I will leave you alone,” Mei Ling replied, unable to keep the quaver out of her voice.

  “She isn’t your concern,” he yelled.

  Anger welled in her. She yelled back, “You don’t dictate who I’m concerned about. I will stand here every day until you tell me where she is.” She glared at him, looking him straight in the eyes. Slower, she articulated, “I must see that she is all right.”

  “She is fine. She’s just a girl.” Contempt filled his voice. “An orphan girl who would have died of starvation on the streets of Guangzhou if I hadn’t brought her here.”

  Rather than dissuade her, his words and attitude strengthened her resolve. “The address,” she demanded.

  “I
assure you, she is a servant in a good home.” He switched tactics in the face of Mei Ling’s stare. “It’s more than she would be had she stayed in China. I rescued her from a life of depravity.”

  “The address,” she declared again. “I won’t let you be until I see her.”

  He took a measure of Mei Ling. She let her Dragon build up inside her, showing him the power of it. The tension was physically painful, but she refused to look away or even blink. While she glowered at him she pictured Siew’s face, forcing herself to keep fighting for her.

  Bo rested his hand against her leg, but she didn’t let that distract her; rather she drew strength from his touch. He needed to see Siew as much as she did.

  Suk Suk sighed. She’d won.

  “672 Eleventh Street in Oakland. Use the back door if you go there.” He shook his head. “You are wasting your energy on her.”

  “She isn’t a waste . . . of my energy or anything else.”

  She spun around and walked away. Her anger made her so shaky she feared her knees might give out, but she stepped forward steadily until she was confident she was out of his sight. Only then did she stop to lean against a pole and take in a deep breath.

  She looked down at Bo. “We did it! I have her address. When your Bah-ba comes home, we can find your Siew.”

  “Siew,” he repeated sweetly, sounding like he longed for her, though Mei Ling still doubted he could possibly remember his temporary big sister.

  It was less than a mile from their apartment to the address, but the four of them passed through many different worlds on their way. First they walked through Chinatown. The wooden Edwardian and Victorian multistory buildings were packed tight with commercial spaces on the first floors and apartments on the upper floors. Merchandise was on display out on the sidewalks to entice customers to come inside. When they reached Broadway, the main street of Oakland, Kai Li paused to point out some landmarks among the art deco skyscrapers: the Tribune building and city hall. They were modern and elegant, reminding Mei Ling of the newest buildings in Guangzhou. A few blocks past Broadway, businesses gave way to a residential district full of beautiful Victorians with large yards on the sides, front, and back.