“What do we want?” Chen Ling cried out. “To be treated no better than the lowliest animal?”
“No!” the crowd cried out.
“What do we want—to work as slaves for the sake of Chung’s greed?”
“No!”
“What do we want?” Chen Ling’s voice rang through the air.
Then, from somewhere behind Pei and Sui Ying, came the slow chant, “We want shorter hours! We want shorter hours! We want shorter hours!”
Like a fire this quickly caught on until every girl and woman there shouted it at the top of her voice, filling the night air with a thunderous cry.
Chen Ling and Lin stood back, watching in total amazement. At first they raised their arms up in the air and tried to quiet the voices, for fear they would be discovered, but it was useless. Their own voices couldn’t climb above the rhythmic chanting and they were soon mouthing the words themselves. Chen Ling and Lin turned to one another, and for the first time in their lives felt strength in their numbers.
Because of the growing number of women joining their forces, Chen Ling feared that word might get back to Chung about the impending strike. It was too dangerous to meet at the sisters’ house in such big numbers, so several women were selected to represent the others. They would bring word to the others of when the strike would take place. Timing would be critical if they were to pull this off. Without wasting any more time, the leaders quickly decided that the strike should begin the next day, when the noon bell rang. They would spend all night, if need be, spreading the word.
The next morning came after a sleepless night for Chen Ling and most of the others. An undercurrent of fear and anxiety moved through them, but on the surface everything appeared as usual. They went about their work with the same quick dexterity, which gave away nothing to the male managers who watched over them. At times Pei wondered if Chung and his men knew and were just waiting for them to make a move.
The first bell rang exactly at noon. Its long, loud clang made its way up from the bottom of Pei’s spine to the nape of her neck. For just a moment all of the girls seemed lost as to what to do. They stood glancing at one another, unable to move.
The few male managers patrolling the aisles tapped their long sticks along the metal basins, mocking them: “What’s the matter, can’t you hear? Or would you rather work than eat?”
Before they could say anything else, the men were confronted by a large crowd of workers moving toward them, led by Chen Ling and Lin. Pei waved her hand for the others to follow. One by one the girls followed them out. They poured out of the buildings and into the courtyard. Every single silk worker found her way out, leaving behind her any trace of fear or doubt. Within minutes the buildings stood empty. The quick buzz of the empty bobbins echoed within the hollow walls.
The managers placed in charge by Chung watched helplessly as the buildings emptied. They could only follow, wielding their wooden sticks and demanding that the women return to work. “Return now, and nothing will happen to you! Chung will not know of this incident!”
But their pleas could barely be heard above the roar of the girls, who shouted back, “We won’t work!” “We want shorter hours!”
The men continued to shout until their faces grew red, and then they gave up. The tide of voices overpowered them. They simply stood back and watched in amazement as the girls shouted in victory.
Chen Ling raised her arms to gain control, but the tide couldn’t be stopped. They had succeeded in shutting down the silk factory. As the first taste of victory moved through each one of them, Pei watched as Hing, the man in charge, whispered some words to his small band of men. One of them then turned around and hurried off, no doubt to tell Chung of their protest. A spark of fear moved through Pei, but it was quickly replaced by the sudden chanting of “Bring us Chung! Bring us Chung!” which she herself began to shout.
When the voices of the women finally calmed down, Hing tried again to persuade them to go back to work. “Return to work now and you will not be punished!” he shouted. But they simply laughed at his wasted efforts.
The crowd suddenly parted as a long black automobile arrived, inching its way through the crowd from the main gate. It was the first car Pei had ever seen up that close. She had seen a few in Canton, their large metal bodies parked along the crowded streets, but cars were rare in Yung Kee. Pei was fascinated to see it move along without the aid of human strength, powered by an engine beneath its shiny hood. It moved slowly yet defiantly through the crowd, and when it came to a stop, the black doors opened and Chung emerged.
The crowd regained its momentum upon seeing Chung, who cleared his throat and spat on the ground. “What is the meaning of this?” he shouted at them.
Chung was accompanied by several men who carried their firearms prominently. They stood behind Chung, straight and menacing. Pei felt Lin shift closer to her at the sight of the guns, but the crowd seemed unaffected by their open display.
Chen Ling stepped forward and with a wave of her arm the voices quieted. Not flinching at the sight of Chung or his armed men, Chen Ling handed him the list of their grievances. Chung stared hard at Chen Ling, barely glancing at the list he held in his hands. Then, turning toward the crowd of women before him, Chung turned a deep shade of red and let out a long howl of laughter.
Chen Ling remained stoic, as if waiting for Chung to get over his fit of laughing and return to the business at hand. The women were silent and so were Chung’s men, who now appeared more confused than dangerous.
When Chung’s laughter died into the stillness of the air, he turned back toward Chen Ling and said in a loud, angry voice, “Who do you think you are, after all I have done for you!”
Chen Ling stared back at him and, with equal anger, said: “What have you done for us? As far as I know, we’ve done everything for you!”
The crowd laughed and cheered as Chung’s eyes narrowed and his anger grew. He motioned to the men standing behind him and they lifted their guns, pointing them upward, toward the sky. Then, at a nod of Chung’s head, they fired directly into the air. The sharp, explosive shots filled the air, followed by an eerie silence. Some of the women began to scatter as the stench of gunpowder drifted overhead, but Chen Ling raised her arms and called for them to remain.
Chung’s smile disappeared when he saw that the silk workers couldn’t be scared off so easily by the loud gunshots of his men. He eyed them curiously, then welcomed the challenge of his power. It was now time for him to teach them all a lesson.
“What is it you expect to get from all this?” Chung asked, lowering his voice with a little more diplomacy.
“It’s all written out for you,” Chen Ling answered, gesturing at the papers he held in his hand.
Chung glanced down to the papers and let them drop to the ground. His round face grew red. How dare a woman address him in that smug, emotionless tone? Chung’s anger couldn’t be contained. “Do you think you’re indispensable to me? Well, you aren’t. You’re nothing but failures, female dogs who have just thrown away any luck you could have had in this life!”
“Shorter hours! We want shorter hours!” Chen Ling yelled, disregarding the little speech Chung had just made. The women took up the chant, speaking in perfect time with her.
“Shor-ter hours! Shor-ter hours! Shor-ter hours!”
Chung stood enraged, trying to make himself heard by the men who stood beside him. When one of the men would not do as he commanded, Chung pushed him back and took hold of the gun he carried. Chung pointed it upward and fired. The sharp, crackling sound rang through the air, but unlike the last time the women didn’t scatter. They remained, chanting even faster and louder.
“Shor-ter hours! Shor-ter hours! Shor-ter hours!”
The women seemed to grow angrier with each breath; Pei could barely remain standing as the crowd pushed forward and the shouting became more frenzied. Lin’s hand slipped away from Pei’s, and suddenly Lin was no longer in sight, swallowed by the moving, pushing bodie
s of her sisters. Pei tried to move to the side but she was wedged in by the flow of bodies as they pushed wildly forward. Pei could faintly hear Chen Ling’s voice rise above the noise telling them to remain calm.
Then it happened. The firecracker sounds of the guns going off rang through the air. The pushing stopped and so did the chanting, leaving an uncomfortable silence. The strong smell of gunpowder floated through the crowd as Pei strained to see what had happened. It seemed hopeless, since she’d been pushed far back in the mélée. Then nausea moved through Pei and she knew something had gone wrong. Her heart began pounding with fear. Where was Lin? She couldn’t see Lin. She pushed forward with all her strength to see.
Shoving toward the front, Pei took no notice of Chung and his men standing silent with their eyes downcast. A small clearing had been made by the women, and when Pei finally squeezed through she saw two bodies half-lying on the ground. “Who?” she cried out in fear, but when she saw Lin kneeling and cradling one of the fallen bodies, Pei could barely remain standing.
Sui Ying lay lifeless in Lin’s arms, a thin line of blood running down the corner of her mouth. Lin looked up and met Pei’s stare with the same silent shock Pei felt. Pei knelt down beside Sui Ying and touched her face, still warm with life. The blood that flowed freely from Sui Ying’s body stained the ground and Pei’s trousers as she knelt in it. Chen Ling was helping the other wounded girl to her feet; she had simply been grazed in the arm by the same bullet that seemed fated for Sui Ying.
Chen Ling straightened herself and turned back to the crowd of women. In a voice choked with grief and determination Chen Ling began chanting, “Shor-ter hours! Shor-ter hours! Shor-ter hours!” until she had recaptured every voice there. As Chung and his men looked on in silence, the voices escalated into a deafening roar.
Chung refused to take responsibility for the death of Sui Ying. “They were getting out of hand,” he told the authorities. “My men were just trying to protect me and themselves. No one wanted violence, but there was no reasoning with them!”
Chung was a man of wealth and considerable power in Yung Kee. Sui Ying’s death was ruled an unfortunate accident, and no formal charges were brought against Chung or any of his men.
But as word of Sui Ying’s death spread through Yung Kee, other silk workers followed suit and went on strike. Hundreds of women united against Chung and the other owners, shutting down most of the silk factories.
Chen Ling and Lin led the fight with strength and strategy, refusing to be strangled by Chung. His threats of starving them out before he would yield to their demands went unheeded. Chen Ling had learned from reading about the past failures of the strikes up north, and was prepared for a long fight. Before the strike, she had organized committees and had plenty of rice stocked up at each house. If all else should fail, Sui Ying’s death remained a constant reminder of how much had already been sacrificed; less food on the table would make little difference.
For days Sui Ying’s body remained unburied, waiting at the temple, her spirit roaming the afterlife for a place to rest. Kung Ma had immediately written to Sui Ying’s husband, Lau Chen, sending the letter to an address in Hong Kong where he worked. That same night they all prayed to Kuan Yin so he would come soon for Sui Ying’s body.
Sui Ying’s death still seemed so unreal. All around the sisters’ house there were bits and pieces of her life still unfinished. On the desk lay a half-written letter to her husband, Lau Chen, and in the reading room was a painting she had just begun. It didn’t seem fair that there would be no end to these things, that they would always remain incomplete. Pei missed Sui Ying, but she knew right away that her feeling wasn’t the same one she had had when Mei-li died. She missed Sui Ying, but in a sweeter, gentler way, like a fading song.
Each day Pei anxiously waited for the arrival of Lau Chen. Some nights she dreamed of Sui Ying’s body rising up from the wooden box she lay in and returning to the sisters’ house. Often, when it was very early in the morning, Pei would go out into the garden where the stale perfumes intermingled; there she could feel Sui Ying’s presence most strongly. Pei sat and waited with her, hoping in some way to keep Sui Ying from being lonely until she could find her resting place.
Lau Chen arrived at the sisters’ house three days later. He was a small wiry man, shorter than Pei had expected, dressed in the neutral white colors of a laborer. When he shook her hand, his rough, callused fingers wrapped around Pei’s with surprising gentleness. Over the years Pei had heard so much about Lau Chen that it was almost as if she knew him, although he appeared not at all as she had envisioned. Pei remembered Sui Ying saying they were close in age, but his thinning hair and slight build made him appear older. He had a pleasant face and a mild, sweet manner. And though Lau Chen couldn’t be considered a man of good looks, it was easy to see how Sui Ying might have fallen in love with his gentle nature.
Lau Chen sat quietly in a large chair listening to Chen Ling’s words as she awkwardly tried to explain Sui Ying’s death. His eyes revealed nothing as he stared blankly into her face. He showed no signs of anger toward Chung or any of them for encouraging Sui Ying to join in the strike. When Chen Ling had finished he simply asked, “Is my wife at a place near here?”
“Yes,” Chen Ling said. “She lies awaiting you at the temple. I’ll take you there.”
“Would it be too much trouble if I ask that Pei take me there?” asked Lau Chen hesitantly.
“No, not at all,” Chen Ling said. She shook her head and looked toward Pei, relieved to be replaced.
Outside the air was hot and heavy. Pei and Lau Chen walked slowly at first, as if becoming accustomed to the ground beneath them, which felt raw and uneven. Lau Chen looked at the ground as they walked, while Pei remained silent. She had walked this same road a hundred times, but never with a man. Pei couldn’t help but feel the difference. People’s stares didn’t seem to linger as long as when she was with her sisters, yet she felt heavier, more obvious.
“I would have been here sooner,” Lau Chen said suddenly. His lower lip trembled. “But there was some trouble at the border with my papers. They suspected I might be a Communist trying to return to Canton. So many of them are running now.”
“Were you detained?” Pei asked. She realized Lau Chen was her first real contact with news outside of Yung Kee.
Lau Chen wrinkled his brow, and hesitated for a moment. “For a short while; then I was suddenly released. I thought for a moment I would never make it to Yung Kee. I’ve heard so many terrible stories of men and women tortured in the most brutal ways. I thought for sure it would be my fate.”
“They just let you go?”
“It’s hard to predict what will happen, isn’t it?”
Lau Chen looked up at Pei, and his grief seemed to cover them.
“I never dreamed that I wouldn’t see Sui Ying again. It doesn’t seem possible,” he said quietly.
“I’m so sorry,” Pei said, her words sounding thin and empty.
“Sui Ying wrote to me about you. You kept her company while I was far away.”
For a moment their silence was unbearable. Then Lau Chen cleared his throat and turned away from her.
The large, ornate temple stood on a busy open street filled with noise and people. The temple was often used as a temporary resting place because of its dark, cool interior, which protected the deceased from the heat. It was always a relief to Pei to step into its cool, incense-filled room. She and Lau Chen were greeted by a thin, shrunken old woman who seemed relieved to find out that Lau Chen had come to claim Sui Ying’s body. Pei looked around the dark, high-ceilinged room. She wanted to ask the old woman what happened to the bodies that went unclaimed, but refrained. Did their spirits roam the unknown forever looking for a place to rest? Did the bodies eventually turn to gray dust and simply blow away? While the old woman and Lau Chen spoke in low, hushed tones, Pei watched them and wondered.
Lau Chen was led into a room toward the back. He turned around and his eyes ask
ed Pei to wait for him. She sat down on a bench. The fragrant room felt even cooler and darker as she waited. Within it was a feeling of absolute stillness. It was as if time had stopped.
When Lau Chen returned and they were outside again, it was as if they had awakened from a long sleep. The sunlight was so bright Pei squinted against it, and stood awkwardly in the noisy street.
“Is everything all right?” Pei asked.
“Yes. I must go to make the arrangements for Sui Ying’s body to be taken back to her village for burial, if I can get past the border guards. I want to thank you for all you did for Sui Ying.” Lau Chen’s words of gratitude hung in the air and fell gently against Pei.
“I did nothing,” Pei answered.
“You gave her friendship.” Slowly Lau Chen began to back away. “If ever you come to Hong Kong, you must be sure to look for me.” He slipped a piece of paper into her hand. “You can find me there,” he said. He allowed his eyes to rest on Pei for just a moment before looking away.
Pei watched Lau Chen turn to go. He appeared so old and tired in the bright light. She didn’t move as he made his way slowly back toward the harbor. Pei waited, hoping for Lau Chen to turn back, but he never did. He disappeared into a crowd of people and rising dust, taking with him her last memory of Sui Ying.
Within the week, Chung and the other owners called a meeting with all the factory leaders. Chen Ling and Lin were ecstatic, knowing the owners wanted to resolve some of their demands before more of their profits were lost.
Women of the Silk Page 17
