Women of the Silk

by Gail Tsukiyama

  And now they again waited, as the sky darkened and rumbled and the rain came down slowly at first, then built into a constant, sometimes violent flow, neither stopping nor pausing to take a breath. The entire village of Yung Kee stood in the bleak, gray daylight waiting for the howling winds to come or for the rain to let up, but neither happened. The earth drank in all it could until every crevice filled up and the land bloated.

  Two days after the rains began, the girls were ordered to return to work at the silk factory. Convinced that the winds would grow no wilder than a swift breeze, Auntie Yee allowed the girls to bear the rain and return to work.

  Each day out, Pei, Lin and Mei-li could easily see the damage the rain alone was causing. The river swelled and soon poured over the banks onto the streets. Hundreds of boat people left their floating houses for dry land, carrying whatever possessions they could.

  “What’s that?” Mei-li cried, pointing to every stray object that floated by as they walked.

  “It’s just a piece of wood,” Pei said, taking her arm and leading her forward, past the begging men and women in the streets.

  “Why do they stare at us like that?” Mei-li whined.

  “Because they’re hungry and cold!” Lin snapped.

  Pei surveyed the misery around her with a heavy heart. Most of the boat people were forced to live like squatters in the doorways of buildings or under makeshift shelters as the rain continued. With the roads washed out, food became scarce. Entire families begged in the streets, pulling at Lin’s clothes and her own as their children clung to them crying with the cold and hunger. Each day there were more bodies lying lifeless along their path. Pei and Lin gave all they could from their own lunches, but it was never enough to satisfy the hordes of hungry boat people.

  The girls themselves suffered the effects of the constant rain. Most of the girls arrived at the silk factory muddy and soaked through, with no choice but to work in their damp clothing the entire day. Sandbags and large pieces of cloth were placed against the doors of the factory and wrung out constantly by girls who stayed all night to keep the water from entering and damaging the reeling machines.

  Then one day amid all the noise of the reeling machines came the high-pitched voice of Mei-li screaming “Get it away, get it away!”

  Lin and Pei arrived to find an unconscious, gray, almost black rat floating belly-up in her basin. Directly above them others scurried across the rafters. Mei-li looked up, and seeing the army of rats fainted where she stood. From that day on Mei-li would go nowhere in the factory without a large wooden stick for protection.

  “They are sly devils, they ravage through everything,” said an unusually talkative Moi, making the soup that evening. “I tell you it is only the beginning of the rats you will see come out because of the flooding. I have seen them a foot long or more!”

  “It can’t be!” Mei-li screamed.

  “I remember when I was a young girl in Tientsin, I saw villagers hanging their babies in nets strung from the ceiling for fear the rats would eat their children while they slept,” said Moi, dropping the wooden spoon and turning toward her audience. “It makes no difference, the rats persist no matter what. They dig their claws into the walls or climb down the thinnest of ropes to get to the child. I have seen it myself, back in Tientsin, a baby’s face half eaten by rats as it hung from netting above the floor!”

  Mei-li hid behind Auntie Yee as some of the girls cowered at Moi’s stories.

  “Moi, why do you tell such stories?” scolded Auntie Yee.

  “I speak only the truth! Why, at least here we can be certain that some of these rats will find themselves skinned and roasted over the open fires of the less fortunate!” Moi snapped as she went back to her cooking.

  Auntie Yee rolled her eyes and lifted her hands up in the air before leaving the room.

  As Mei-li lay in bed listening to the falling rain she came to a decision. When the time came for her to marry, it would be to Su-lung’s brother, Hong. From the first moment she saw him, it had been as if her fate was set. Nothing anyone could do or say would change her mind. The only one she dared to confide in was Pei, and even then, not everything could be said. Despite the rains and her intense fear of the dark, ugly rats, Mei-li disobeyed Auntie Yee and deliberately walked out of her way past Su-lung’s house in hopes of catching sight of Hong.

  Most evenings she caught a glimpse of him returning from his studies, books in hand as he hurried into the two dark rooms she had visited. What was it about Hong that made her want to be with him, even from a distance? She had never had these feelings for anyone before, not even her own family, whom she preferred to have at a distance. But as she watched Hong’s long strides take him quickly out of her sight, she felt a sinking in the hollow of her stomach. Mei-li kept up this secret ritual night after night without exception. She arrived home only a short time after the others, always ready with an excuse if Auntie Yee should question her. “I stopped to speak to a friend,” she would say, or “I had to finish some work.” So far, Mei-li was relieved not to have had to tell Auntie Yee any of these lies.

  On one of these nights Mei-li did not see Hong. She waited as long as she possibly could before hurrying back to the girls’ house. The disappointment stung her as she walked quickly through the pouring rain, her thoughts focused on her own misery. Even the darkness, which would usually frighten her with all its unimaginable creatures, couldn’t deter her. As Mei-li turned the corner, she didn’t realize someone was following her, the dull footsteps muffled by the water. On instinct Mei-li turned around to find Hong a few steps behind her. She had not seen him come up from behind the stone wall that usually hid her from his sight, so he must have come from the opposite direction. Then Hong did something very unexpected: He grabbed Mei-li’s arm and led her down the street, away from the girls’ house.

  Mei-li let herself be taken away, her heart pounding wildly. Even soaking wet, she felt a warmth spread through her body as Hong held tightly onto her arm. She hoped he would never let go, but as they turned into a small dark building, he released her in the narrow passageway.

  Hong fumbled with the lock, then opened the door to a small, dark room whose damp smell made Mei-li shudder. For a moment she thought of the rats, and of all the other hidden creatures that might lurk in a place like this, but she quickly put them to the back of her mind.

  “Where are we?” Mei-li finally gained the courage to ask.

  “It’s a friend’s room. He’s away visiting his family.”

  Hong lit an oil lamp, which set the small room aglow. There was little in the way of furnishings, just a chair, a table, and a bed against the far wall. Mei-li stood and waited. She had known from the beginning that Hong was the only man she would be with. And she did not resist when she felt his hand search for hers, then move up her arm to the nape of her neck.

  “You’ve been watching me,” he said.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “why?”

  Mei-li remained silent.

  “Come this way, you must be cold,” he whispered.

  Slowly Hong removed her outer clothing and lowered Mei-li onto the hard bed. She could faintly see Hong removing his wet jacket before he slowly.lowered his body next to hers. They lay side by side like this for a few moments before Mei-li felt Hong’s warm fetid breath against her neck as he fumbled with her clothes and slipped his hand underneath. His damp hair gave off the oily scent of flowers. Mei-li shivered when his fingers found her breasts. Then, awkwardly, Hong tipped her head back and groped for her mouth, and when he found it pressed his lips heavily against hers. Mei-li closed her eyes and let her body mold tightly to Hong, following his every move.

  “I love you,” Mei-li said afterward. She had not felt all that he did, but then she assumed making love was always more pleasurable for a man. It certainly was not what Chen Ling had hinted it would be like, she did not feel like she would burn in a fire for all eternity. It was just wonderful being so close to Hong.
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  Hong was sitting up on the side of the bed, putting back on his wet clothing. He did not answer.

  “Do you love me?” asked Mei-li.

  “It doesn’t have to be all that serious,” said Hong, his eyes avoiding hers. “No one has to know anything; it will only cause trouble.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Only that no one has to know about this yet.” He looked toward Mei-li and smiled. “My passing these exams is very important to my family. I can’t burden them with anything else until they are all over with.”

  Mei-li said nothing.

  “And how will it look for you to have been with a man when you’re still at the girls’ house?”

  “I don’t care how it looks, I love you!”

  “Well, I care,” Hong said, grabbing her arm and giving it a quick squeeze. “No one must know about this, do you understand?”

  Mei-li nodded, swallowing hard. She remained quiet. The light flickered as she watched their shadows dance against the stark brick wall. The damp, sour smell of the room seemed to suffocate her. Somewhere, beyond the falling rain, Mei-li thought she heard the muffled sound of a child crying.

  Chapter Five

  1925

  Pei

  Outside the rain continued to fall as Auntie Yee and the girls gathered in the reading room to wait for Mei-li. It was after evening meal, and Mei-li had not returned from the silk factory with the last group of girls. Pei watched helplessly as Auntie Yee grew more and more agitated.

  Now and then Moi peeked in, finally emerging with a tray of tea and biscuits which no one touched.

  “Mei-li should know better. Where can she be?” Auntie Yee said, pacing the floor. She stopped short to wait, and Pei could see her worried face scanning theirs for an answer. Anxiously, Auntie Yee moved toward her, hoping for any small clue as to Mei-li’s whereabouts.

  “She may be with Su-lung,” Pei finally gained the courage to say. “I’m sure she’s just waiting there with Su-lung’s family until the rain lets up.”

  “With Su-lung? Why would she be with Su-lung? Mei-li knows that I want all you girls to come directly back here from the factory!”

  Pei remained silent. Ever since Mei-li began having all her foolish thoughts about Su-lung’s brother Hong, Pei had listened to her ramblings with a touch of uneasiness. She was sure Mei-li was walking past Su-lung’s after work. Every night Mei-li hurried back to the girls’ house just after everyone else, always breathless, her face flushed. Auntie Yee didn’t seem to notice, but when Pei asked her where she’d been, Mei-li would always smile and change the subject. Still, Pei had never dreamed that Mei-li would go so far as to disobey Auntie Yee’s rules.

  “I’ll go to Su-lung’s house immediately!” Auntie Yee said, moving frantically towards the door. But before she could put on her coat, the front door creaked open and Mei-li hurried in, wet , and dripping on the shiny wood floor.

  “I’m so sorry, Auntie Yee,” said Mei-li apologetically. “I hadn’t realized—”

  “Where have you been?” Auntie Yee interrupted, her voice trembling. She walked in quick circles around Mei-li. “Do you know how worried we’ve been?”

  “Su-lung was frightened so I walked back with her to her house. I didn’t realize the time, and then the rain became so strong,” Mei-li whispered, wrapping her arms around her shivering body.

  “You know you are to come directly back here from the factory! You frightened all of us terribly!”

  “I’m very sorry,” Mei-li said, wiping her eyes.

  Immediately Auntie Yee softened. “Well, I don’t want it to happen again! As long as you’re safe now, I’m thankful. Come now, you’d better get out of those wet clothes, then come down and have something to eat. I’ll have Moi get you a bowl of hot soup.

  Auntie Yee hurried toward the kitchen, waving her arms to urge the rest of them to get along with their business. “Go, go!” she said to Mei-li.

  Mei-li moved toward the stairs, glancing in Pei’s direction. There was a sly smile on her face that confused Pei about where she’d really been.

  In the darkness of the room Pei could only see the shadow of Mei-li’s white nightgown moving up and down as she quietly got into the bed next to Pei’s. “Where were you?” Pei whispered.

  “I was with Hong tonight,” Mei-li said ecstatically, turning towards Pei.

  “You saw him?” Pei asked.

  “Yes, we met each other on the street close to his house. He knew me immediately.”

  “Are you crazy!”

  “He has the most beautiful hands, the hands of a scholar.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I saw them when we were together.”

  “How could you be together? Where did you go?” Pei questioned, suspicious of Mei-li.

  “To a room that belonged to a friend of his.”

  “I think you’ve been standing in the rain too long,” Pei said skeptically. “That is, if you’re telling me the truth!”

  “Why wouldn’t I tell you the truth? I was safe with Hong tonight, and now I must marry him.” Mei-li then whispered: “It’s gone too far.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Mei-li hesitated, and then, giggling, said, “Some things are fated to be.”

  Pei paused and watched her friend apprehensively. She wanted to get up and shake Mei-li awake from her dreams, but Mei-li’s strange behavior had taken on a new dimension, and in the hazy darkness, something cold and frightening moved through Pei. In the next moment the feeling was gone, but Pei was shaken.

  “Please be careful,” Pei said.

  Mei-li giggled. “Why are you so serious? I’ve never been happier.”

  Pei stared hard at her talkative friend, then fell back into a comfortable position for sleep. She had so many questions to ask Mei-li, but it was late, and they would have to wait until another time.

  “I’ll leave you to your dreams, then,” Pei whispered wearily. “Good night.”

  The lulling sound of the rain continued, now and then accented by small violent bursts scattered against the window.

  “Do you think the rain will last much longer?” Mei-li suddenly asked.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “That would be so nice,” Mei-li said, turning back into her own bed.

  Auntie Yee

  Every morning since the rain had begun, Auntie Yee came downstairs and opened the front door to see if the sky had shed its final tears. It became a habit she’d grown used to, like the dull mumblings of Moi to herself.

  Only, on this particular morning Auntie Yee still felt unsettled. Mei-li’s lost hours last night filled her with a dull dread. What if Mei-li had been hurt somewhere? What would she tell Mei-li’s parents if she were never to be found? These thoughts of what could have happened to Mei-li left her tossing and turning all night. But as Auntie Yee pulled open the door she was greeted by an unexpected surprise. The rain had ended, leaving a strange quiet along with the flooded earth, which smelled of rotting plums.

  “The rain has stopped!” Auntie Yee said, entering the kitchen.

  Moi glanced up at Auntie Yee from her cooking, barely acknowledging her presence. “Early this morning,” Moi finally said, stirring her pot of steaming jook.

  “I thank Kuan Yin,” Auntie Yee said happily. “Now we can get back to our lives!”

  Very carefully Auntie Yee took the bowls down from the shelf.

  “There will be a mess to deal with now,” Moi said. “If they think they’ve seen rats, just wait!”

  “The girls don’t need to hear that kind of talk!” Auntie Yee said sternly.

  “The truth shouldn’t frighten anyone,” mumbled Moi. She stirred the jook and said nothing more.

  As Auntie Yee set the table, she looked up at the first sound of someone coming downstairs, though she knew it was Chen Ling. Even when Chen Ling didn’t have to work early at the silk factory, she was the first girl downstairs each morning. She took her usual seat at the t
able, but this morning she asked Auntie Yee to sit with her.

  “Second Mother,” Chen Ling said, “I have something of importance to tell you.”

  Auntie Yee took the seat across from her, wondering what could be weighing so heavily on her daughter’s mind. Chen Ling’s formality was unusual, even for her. Auntie Yee knew that Ming was recovering nicely from her burns and would be back on her feet in a few days, so it must be something else.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Chen Ling cleared her throat and looked Auntie Yee directly in the eyes. “Ming and I have decided to go through the hairdressing ceremony.”

  For a moment Auntie Yee was speechless, but not out of surprise. She had always known Chen Ling might go through the hairdressing ceremony, which was the final declaration from a young woman that she wouldn’t marry, but instead would remain in the sisterhood of silk workers. As with a marriage, an auspicious day was chosen and a banquet was held with family and friends, who gave lucky money to the nonmarrying woman. It wasn’t that Chen Ling was too young—she was almost twenty—but the words coming from Chen Ling’s mouth sounded too flat. Auntie Yee had expected them to ring out at her with the same intensity as Chen Ling’s evening talks to the girls, thrilling her. But instead, Auntie Yee felt as if she wasn’t hearing anything she didn’t already know.

  “I’m very happy to hear this,” Auntie Yee said. “I know it’s something you’ve both thought about deeply.”

  “It is,” answered Chen Ling, allowing herself to relax and smile.

  It was only then that Auntie Yee’s heart filled with a motherly warmth. Chen Ling looked so grown-up sitting across from her, and when Auntie Yee reached over and touched her daughter’s hand, Chen Ling didn’t move away.