“------?” Siew asked.
“Yes.” The woman smiled. “------.”
“I ------- I ---- -- ---- -- ---- -- ---- ---------!” Siew said.
The woman’s face fell; she looked like she would cry.
“--- ---- -- ------- --- -- ---. -- Chinn ---- --- ---- -- -- ------.”
Siew started shaking. Was she afraid?
“What’s wrong?” Mei Ling asked Kai Li. “She doesn’t want to live with us?”
“Miss Haw just told her she won’t be working here at all anymore. I believe Siew is overcome with happiness and shock.”
Mei Ling exhaled in relief.
Siew put her hands on Bo’s shoulders. Beaming, she exclaimed, “I get to live with you again!”
Mei Ling grinned at the excitement on the children’s faces.
“--’- --- ---- ----------,” Miss Haw said. “----- --- ---- -- ----?”
“Go with Siew to get her things,” Kai Li translated. “Bo and I will stay out here.”
Siew took Mei Ling’s hand and brought her into a large storage pantry. One side had shelves of canned goods and baskets filled with bright fruits and vegetables. The other had cleaning supplies—buckets, mops, brooms, and bottles.
They passed through a door into a kitchen. Around the edges were counters, a sink, a brand-new stove, and . . . an electric refrigerator. Mei Ling had never seen one in person, only in advertisements in the newspaper. This is where Kai Li would earn Siew’s freedom.
Suddenly ashamed, Mei Ling told Siew, “Our house isn’t nearly as nice as this one.”
Siew shrugged in reply. She led Mei Ling into a passageway. On the right was a built-in wooden table with benches. A large, dark, built-in wooden cabinet filled the other side. Stacks of plates, bowls, and cups in various sizes showed through the beveled-glass doors, and presumably silver filled the drawers. Siew ducked under the table on the right side. Mei Ling bent over to see where she’d gone.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Mei Ling’s throat welled up at the sight. This cubbyhole was where Siew slept. On the ground, against the wall, was bedding and an open suitcase. The little girl was stuffing things into the small container. As Kai Li said, Siew had been warm and dry, but she had to be terribly lonely. The child reached for the paper Quan Yin that Mei Ling had torn out of her notebook on Angel Island. It sat on a brick next to a dried flower. Mei Ling was hopeful that the goddess had provided some comfort to Siew.
The girl closed the lid and clicked it tight. She pushed the bedding out of the way and slid the small case across the wooden floor.
“Let me help you.” Mei Ling reached for the handle.
The girl froze and put her hand out to block Mei Ling’s hand. “I’m okay. You have Joy on your back.”
“I can do both—help you and carry Joy,” Mei Ling said.
Siew nodded and let Mei Ling take the suitcase out of her way.
Miss Haw was waiting nearby.
“You --- ---- --- -----,” the White woman said.
“Thank you,” Siew replied.
To Mei Ling’s surprise Siew hugged the woman before they left.
Mei Ling looked at the bush with the altar as they passed by. She wouldn’t need to return here each day anymore. Thank you. Thank you, the ghost chanted as they walked. Mei Ling shared the spirit’s pleasure and was happy for Siew’s mother to enjoy this journey, but she hoped the demanding spirit would leave once they got home.
At the doorway of their apartment, Siew hesitated, but Bo pulled her in, practically running to the living room.
“This is our couch,” he announced, pointing to it. Then he tugged her through the arch. “This is the kitchen.” He stared at her face for approval. When she nodded he led her into the bedroom. “We sleep here. Mah-ma and Bah-ba sleep there.” He pointed to each mattress. “Joy sleeps anywhere she wants.”
Mei Ling laughed. Kai Li did too.
“I’m going to work now,” Kai Li said.
“I’m ready,” Siew said, dropping Bo’s hand. “Bye, Bo. See you after work!”
Mei Ling shook her head. “Siew, you’ll stay here with me and the little children.”
“Oh.” Siew’s face fell.
“Do you wish to leave?” Mei Ling asked.
“No!” Bo shouted.
Siew shook her head. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
Mei Ling studied the eager-to-please girl, fearing that Siew’s experiences had made her meek. While she valued obedience, she wanted Siew to have her passion, her Dragon nature.
“Stay with me,” Bo shouted.
Mei Ling said, “I’ll appreciate your help here.”
Siew stared at Mei Ling. Doubt and fear hid in her eyes. Then she nodded. Kai Li waved in the Western fashion and left. Bo took Siew’s hand and led her to the last room.
“Ta-da!” he said as he opened the door with a flourish. Mei Ling laughed. She didn’t know where he learned that phrase—perhaps from June’s children. Siew gasped when she saw the toilet and bathtub. She looked around, confusion on her face.
“What are you searching for?” Mei Ling asked.
“The other family,” Siew replied.
“What other family?”
“The one in the other bedroom that uses this bathroom.”
Mei Ling smiled. “I was amazed too when I realized that is our very own bathroom—just for the five of us.”
“Wow,” Siew said. “You are rich.”
Mei Ling smiled. She hadn’t needed to worry that Siew would judge them as lacking.
“Yes, we are,” she replied, and she felt the ghost’s approval.
Later that day Mei Ling brought out the nearly finished bright-red gown. After weeks of work, only the trim at the bottom remained. Siew walked up to it, awe on her face.
“That is soooo beautiful.”
“Thank you. It’s for the bride in a wealthy San Francisco family. She’s going to be married during the Autumn Moon Festival. We’ll bring it to her next week.”
Siew was obviously resisting the urge to feel it.
“If you wash your hands you may touch it gently.”
Mei Ling spread the gown out to its full size across the couch. The girl ran her cleaned fingers across the bright colors. She petted the huge tail feathers on the peacock and stroked the neck of the peahen on the back. Her eyes traveled over the pink lotus flowers on the bottom of the skirt and the intricate green vines that edged the entire gown.
“Will you teach me?” Siew asked.
“Yes,” Mei Ling agreed. “But not today. You keep Bo and Joy occupied while I work. If I get enough finished, we can walk to the park. Maybe Auntie June, Dorothy, and Tim will be there.”
With the children occupied by Siew, Mei Ling accomplished much more than she usually did in a morning. She heard squeals of laughter from the bedroom and an occasional fuss from Joy, but otherwise she was left alone to stitch and think. Contentment settled in her heart. After months of distress, her soul was at peace.
On the way to the park, Mei Ling stopped at their favorite store to introduce Siew to the owner, Mrs. Wan, and let the children choose a treat. She pressed a round coin into each small palm. Bo skipped to the candies, pulling Siew along.
“What do you want?” he asked his new sister. “I like peppermint best.”
The girl stared at the assortment of jars, her head moving back and forth. She shrugged. She looked at the coin in her hand.
“You can choose one long stick or four little ones,” Mei Ling explained.
“No, thank you,” Siew said. “You can have mine.” She handed the coin back to Mei Ling.
Confused, Mei Ling asked, “You don’t like candy?”
Siew shrugged.
Mei Ling suddenly understood. “You’ve never had any?”
Siew shook her head, almost imperceptibly.
“Then Bo and I will choose for you,” Mei Ling said. “Is there any fruit you like?”
Siew shrugged,
looking as if she was about to cry.
Keeping her tone light, Mei Ling named a few. “Orange, apple, banana, grape . . .”
Siew shrugged again. “Pineapple?”
“Yum,” Mei Ling said. “I love pineapples too. They were the best treat on the ship, right?”
Siew nodded with a small smile.
Mei Ling asked Mrs. Wan for an assortment of candies, including pineapple. Mrs. Wan added passionfruit and lychee for good luck for the newest member of their family.
“Do you want any hell notes?” the storekeeper asked. “For the Hungry Ghost Festival?”
“Yes, please,” Mei Ling agreed. “Two packs.” They would burn the paper and give food as offerings to all their ancestors, including Bo’s and Siew’s first mothers.
As they walked away from the counter Mrs. Wan said, “Anytime you need anything, Siew, you come here. I will always help you.”
Siew nodded with a little bow. She hadn’t lost all of her Chinese ways.
As they walked out of the door, the girl whispered to Bo, “She’s very nice.”
He nodded as he sucked on his peppermint stick.
“We must register Siew too,” June declared. “Today I will take you to Lincoln School to put her name down. Maybe they put her in Miss Chew’s class. She is the Chinese teacher who went to Mills College, so all the little girls believe they will go there too.”
College. A chill went down Mei Ling’s spine. The ghost woke up with a sudden urgency. Apparently she hadn’t gone far. My daughter will go to college, the spirit demanded.
Mei Ling looked at the children playing in the distance. College? Mei Ling had never met a woman who had been to college. Could they really dream of that for these children? The thought seemed entirely out of their reach, but finding Siew felt impossible not so long ago, and now she was living with them and chasing after Bo only twenty feet away. Why not aspire to have her children go to college? All three of them.
She struck a deal with the ghost. Yes, we will dream of that for Siew—but for Bo and Joy too.
Mei Ling stepped carefully as she carried the pot of steaming water. She set it on the ground below the finished gown hanging in the doorway. It was time to inspect it, cut off loose threads, and steam out the largest wrinkles. Siew had walked Bo to the park. Joy was tied to her back where she wouldn’t get burned or muss up the red silk fabric. The baby peered around her shoulder, wanting to see what Mei Ling was doing.
“This is a pink peony,” Mei Ling told the girl. “Here is a purple butterfly . . . and a yellow one.”
Mei Ling snipped off the last few threads as she spoke. When she was done, she folded the gown, wrapped it in paper, and placed it in a box. She would deliver it to Mr. Young, the shopkeeper, today.
The last time she delivered hats and runners to him, he mentioned her items weren’t selling as quickly as they had in the past. Her embroidery was losing its appeal. She harbored a small fear that he would no longer want this gown—or more work from her in the future.
When Mei Ling picked up Bo and Siew for the journey to San Francisco, June was at the park, gossiping with the usual gathering of Cantonese-speaking immigrant women.
“Show, show,” June insisted.
Mei Ling looked at the circle of women who were becoming her friends. What if June, or someone else, ruined it? She was hesitant to pull it out of its protective wrapping.
“It’s nothing, not worth bothering your eyes with,” Mei Ling said.
“Not true!” June declared. She grabbed the box from Mei Ling’s hands.
Mei Ling took the package back. She wasn’t risking four months of work to careless handling.
“I will show you, but you may not touch the gown.” She was adamant.
June nodded and said to the others, as if it was her idea, “We just look. Not touch.”
Mei Ling set the box on June’s lap. Excited and nervous, she opened it carefully and gently pulled out the gown by the shoulders, holding it high off the ground. It was a modern gown, cut in the style of the flappers with a drop-waist skirt and sheer fabric over a chemise, but traditional Chinese in red silk with Yue embroidery.
Mei Ling studied the faces of the women in the circle, looking for reassurance that she had succeeded in her combination of American and Chinese. Mei Ling heard a gasp. Her lips tugged up in a smile.
“Oh, beautiful,” Fen Wai cried out. “Mei Ling, it is stunning!” Her hand covered her chest in amazement.
Mei Ling’s heart unclenched. She smiled and bowed at her friends. If these women were any indication, Mr. Young’s daughter would be pleased, though women in San Francisco were more discerning about fashion. And the endorsement of these immigrants did not guarantee that an American-born bride would approve of her work.
“As I said, it isn’t worth troubling your eyes,” Mei Ling said.
“Mei Ling.” June’s bossy voice came at her. “You must show to Mrs. Tsou. She will want a gown like this for her daughter. Come, come. Before you go to San Francisco we will go to her shop.”
“Yes,” Fen Wai agreed.
June led Mei Ling and the children over to the store. She was right: Mrs. Tsou ordered one on the spot. “Just the same, but less purple and more yellow.” She needed it by the New Year in February.
“I will find you lots of customers in Oakland. No need for someone talented like you to go all the way to San Francisco,” June declared. “Leave it to June to set you up.”
Grateful for her encouragement and support, Mei Ling smiled at her friend. Customers in Oakland Chinatown would be wonderful, and June was just the person to help her find them.
CHAPTER 22
San Francisco and Oakland
August 1924
“Stay close,” Mei Ling reminded Bo and Siew as they skipped onto the ferry. They were excited for this adventure, but Mei Ling’s nerves were taut. Despite the enthusiastic reception from the ladies, she feared Mr. Young wouldn’t be pleased with her work.
They stood at the railing, watching the distance grow between the boat and the shore.
“There’s the tower!” Siew said, pointing to a spot in the distance.
Mei Ling searched the land until she spotted it: the Campanile at the University of California in Berkeley.
“You remember?” Mei Ling asked.
Siew nodded. “After you left I looked for it whenever they took me on a walk, because you said you would be near there.”
Mei Ling’s heart welled up with emotion. “I’m sorry we had to leave you behind,” she said to Siew.
Siew shrugged but didn’t look at Mei Ling when she said, “It was fine.”
The girl must have been sad and afraid for a year . . . more than a year. Mei Ling liked to believe Siew had been too young to be affected, but if she remembered the tower, she remembered everything.
“It’s behind you,” Mei Ling said in a rush. “You are in our family now. Forever. You understand?”
Siew nodded, but the tight, bittersweet smile on her face told Mei Ling that she didn’t believe her. Mei Ling’s instinct was to reassure her it was true, but she had doubts of her own, and so did the ghost.
“There was a tall tower at the church by the Pardee mansion,” Siew said. “I pretended I climbed it and could see you. Then I knew where to find you.”
A rush of emotions rode a wave through Mei Ling’s heart: guilt, anger, affection all mixed in.
Mei Ling told Siew, “I dreamed of finding you too, almost every night in my sleep.” She smiled and left out the detail that she saw Siew in her nightmares.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. It was over, they were together, but neither of them fully trusted the situation.
“Did you ask Quan Yin for help?” Mei Ling asked.
“Every night, like you said,” Siew said.
“She brought us back together,” Mei Ling replied. “Did you work hard, be kind, and be humble?”
Siew nodded.
“And you were rewarded.” Mei
Ling smiled.
Siew smiled back with a nod.
Mei Ling wished she believed success was as simple as those words from her mother. She wanted Siew’s challenges to be behind her, but was skeptical that the girl’s—or even her own—path would be so easy.
She looked out at the water. An image of Jui Lan’s face bobbing in the salty waves filled her mind. No. Mei Ling pushed those thoughts away.
“How long has it been since you were in San Francisco?” Mei Ling asked Siew.
The girl shrugged.
“You don’t remember when you moved to Oakland?”
She shrugged again. Siew never had answers when Mei Ling asked about the time between Angel Island and her returning to them. No matter how Mei Ling asked, the little girl just shrugged, but Mei Ling couldn’t shake off the feeling that Siew harbored a terrible truth.
Mei Ling admired the clock tower as they pulled up to the Ferry Building. They walked on Jackson Street, up the steep hill toward Mr. Young’s store, passing streets and alleyways packed with people and goods. It was much denser than Chinatown in Oakland, filled mostly with men who had just arrived in the United States.
Just before they got to Grant they came to a standstill; a cart blocked the road and the sidewalk. Mei Ling glanced into Bartlett Alley and saw the women. Wanting to draw the children’s attention away from the prostitutes in their cages, she pointed to the top of the building ahead. Bo followed her distraction, but when she looked at Siew, her eyes were glued to the scene down the alley. The girl walked into the narrow passageway.
“Is that you, Siew?” a woman called out. “I’ll see you soon!”
Mei Ling sucked in her breath as if someone had punched her in the gut. She rushed to Siew, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the street, away from the voice. She marched them downhill, away from the cages. She pushed Siew against a brick wall and crouched down in front of her.
“How do you know that woman?” Mei Ling demanded. “How does she know your name?!”
Siew’s eyes were full of tears. She shrugged.
“She’s a bad woman. You stay away from her and anyone like her. You understand?” Mei Ling shouted at Siew, her heart racing. “That isn’t your future!”
Paper Wife Page 20
