by Lois Lenski
At last dinner was ready and they all sat down to eat. Besides the chicken which was simmered in soy sauce, there were other delicious dishes—steamed prawns with black bean sauce, bird’s nest soup and barbecued pork. The table was big and round and they could all reach the dishes in the center with their chopsticks. Friends and family talked and laughed merrily. Suddenly the doorbell rang and Mei Gwen jumped up.
“I know who it is,” she said. “It’s my new girl-friend.”
She ran down the hall to open the door.
What was her surprise to see not Dina Costelli from Little Italy, but Sandra Sung, the laundryman’s little girl from the second floor.
“What do you want?” asked Mei Gwen sharply.
She was ready to close the door in the girl’s face, but she looked at her again. Sandra’s face was clean, her hair nicely brushed, and she had on a brand-new dress. Mei Gwen looked at her twice. Sandra Sung’s dress was a nylon party dress, exactly like Mei Gwen’s own, except that it was pink instead of blue.
“I came to your birthday party,” said Sandra.
“But I didn’t invite you!” said Mei Gwen.
“Your mother did …” cried Sandra, tears coming to her eyes.
“Bring her in!” called Father from the kitchen. “On your birthday, you must welcome all your friends, old and new.”
“Come in … Sandra …” said Mei Gwen reluctantly.
Sandra followed her down the hall. Everybody looked at Sandra when she entered the room and told her how pretty she was.
“She’s not … she’s not …” began Mei Gwen. She tried to explain that Dina Costelli and not Sandra Sung was her girlfriend, but no one listened.
“We are glad to see you, Sandra,” said Mother. “Sit down and have a piece of Mei Gwen’s birthday cake.”
Shy and silent, Sandra sat down.
Then Father lighted the candles on the cake, brought it in, and Mei Gwen blew them out with one whiff. She hung her head shyly as they sang Happy Birthday in true American style.
They all gathered round while Mei Gwen cut the cake.
“I am glad you and Mei Gwen are such good friends,” said Father. “One girl who lives on the second floor and one who lives on the fourth floor—should they not be good friends?”
Mei Gwen looked at Father in surprise. He well knew that the laundryman’s daughter never washed her face or her dresses, because Mei Gwen had told him so herself. He well knew that she had never even spoken to this girl before. Why should he now call them good friends?
But Mei Gwen soon forgot Sandra in the birthday excitement, for she had all her birthday presents to open. She untied the pretty ribbons and took the pretty papers off the boxes. Aunty Kate and Uncle Fred gave her a new coat for winter. Aunty Rose and Uncle Leon brought her a new skirt and blouse. There were a new dress from Mr. and Mrs. Yick and the twins, a pretty nightgown from Grandmother Yee, and a Chinese fan with blue roses on it from Cousins Dorinda and Jean. There was a beautiful pair of ivory chopsticks from Old Mr. Wong. The last two boxes contained new sweaters, one blue and one pink, exactly alike.
“How can I wear two sweaters?” asked Mei Gwen, laughing. “Is it going to be a very cold winter?”
She glanced at Sandra, who sat looking down in her lap with a sad expression on her face. Mei Gwen looked from Mother to Father. They seemed to be expecting something of her. All at once, she knew what to do.
“I will keep the blue one,” she said. She took the pink sweater and laid it on Sandra Sung’s lap. “You can play like it’s your birthday today, too, Sandra,” she said. “Here is your birthday present. It matches your dress exactly.”
Sandra jumped up, put her arms around Mei Gwen and gave her a kiss. Mother smiled and Father beamed approval. All the others clapped.
Then Mother said she had a big surprise. She gave Mei Gwen three guesses. The girl guessed candy, fruit and flowers, but it was none of these. It was a pair of new roller skates. How happy Mei Gwen was when she saw them!
“Just what I’ve been wanting,” she cried. “Now I can skate to the jeans factory every day as fast as lightning!”
“But not on Grant Avenue,” said Mother. “There are too many cars and too many people there.”
“Can you skate, Sandra?” asked Mei Gwen.
“Yes, I have some old skates,” she said.
Father’s surprise was last.
“Now that you are ten years old,” Father said solemnly, “it is time for you to start to Chinese evening school. Most boys and girls start at a younger age, for there is much to learn. But we have waited until you have become accustomed to city life. You must learn to read and write Chinese as well as English. A Chinese in America must know both Chinese and English—even a woman, for women need learning, too, in this day and age. It is time for you to begin.”
Father handed Mei Gwen a school bag and she slipped the strap over her shoulder. He showed her all the things inside it, the Chinese writing and reading books, ink box and brush.
“Is it hard work?” asked Mei Gwen.
“To do anything well is always hard work,” said Father. “I will help you at home until you catch up with the others in your grade.”
Now, last of all, Felix handed Mei Gwen a small box. She opened it and jumped back, asking, “Is it alive?”
“No,” said Felix. “It is a pretty pin to wear on your coat.” He pinned a silver turtle on her shoulder. “It won’t bite you,” he said. “It didn’t come from the Yet Sang Fish Shop!”
Mei Gwen called the little children to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey. “Come, Sandra,” she cried, “you can be first. Let me blindfold you.” Soon the apartment was ringing with merriment. Old Mr. Wong played his butterfly harp and everybody was happy.
At last the party was over and the people went home. Sandra said good night and wished Mei Gwen good health and a long life like the others. She wore her new pink sweater and went down the stairs.
“I like your new girl-friend,” said Mother. “She looked so pretty in her party dress. She is gentle and quiet and has nice manners.”
Mei Gwen thought of Dina Costelli who had never come at all. Suddenly all her bitterness against Sandra came back.
“Sandra Sung is not my girl-friend at all!” she burst out impatiently. “I never even spoke to her before, let alone asking her to my party. She’s always dirty and her clothes are torn and ragged. Why did she come in a party dress when it wasn’t her birthday at all?”
“I asked her to come because she was lonely and unhappy,” said Mother. “She had no nice dress to wear and I did not want her to feel embarrassed. So when I bought your party dress, I bought one for her. Her parents are poor and her mother has been sick. Sandra worked at the laundry when we first came, counting and folding towels and wrapping bundles. But now she stays at home, trying to take care of her sick mother and the younger children. Father has decided we shall send our clothes to their laundry to help them out. Could you not share a little of your happiness or are you entirely selfish?”
Mei Gwen hid her face, ashamed of herself.
“Oh, Mother,” she cried. “I didn’t know all that …”
“But now she is your girl-friend,” said Mother.
“I’m glad I gave her the pink sweater,” said Mei Gwen.
“A birthday marks the beginning of a new year,” said Mother. “It is a day for growing up.”
CHAPTER VII
A Walk in the Park
Mei Gwen came down the stairs carrying her new roller skates. Would Sandra be at home or working in the laundry? She knocked at the door of apartment No. 3, and Sandra opened it.
“Bring your skates and come to the jeans factory with me,” said Mei Gwen. “We’ll take the children to Portsmouth Square. Next week I have to go to Chinese school and I won’t be baby sitter any more.”
“Are you glad?” asked Sandra.
“I like being baby sitter,” said Mei Gwen, “and I don’t know if I’ll like Chinese school or not.�
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Sandra brought her skates and the girls went downstairs. They sat on the outside doorstep. It was strange how quickly Sandra had turned into a good friend.
“My old skates got too small for me,” said Mei Gwen, buckling on her new ones. “Frankie used them and lost them for me.”
Across the street was the fire station. A large hose-and-ladder truck could be seen inside the open door. Mei Gwen waited while Sandra put on her skates.
“We’ve got everything in our block,” said Mei Gwen. “A fire station, a restaurant, a beauty shop, a laundry and a grocery. Whenever we want anything, we can run out and get it. We are always safe in our apartment and I’ll tell you why.”
“Why?” asked Sandra.
“Right there is the fire station,” said Mei Gwen, pointing. “If we holler and say, ‘Our house is on fire,’ Fireman George doesn’t have to use his truck at all. He just walks across the street and puts the fire out. I know all the firemen, George and Donald and Fred. They speak English like American people. I say, ‘Hi, fireman!’ when I go past.”
“I don’t like to hear the siren,” said Sandra. “It scares me and wakes me up at night.”
“Just hold your hands tight over your ears and you won’t hear it,” said Mei Gwen. The girls got up and started skating. Mei Gwen pointed down the street.
“If I want to buy something for dinner, I can go in that restaurant,” she said. “They cook Won Ton Pay—that’s dough with meat wrapped up inside it—and I can take it home with me. If I want to buy eggs or rice or a Chinese brush, I go to the Fat Lung Grocery on the corner. If I want my dress washed and ironed, I go to the Sun Sun Laundry right over there.”
Sandra laughed. She was proud of her father’s laundry.
“If I want to get a permanent,” Mei Gwen went on, “I don’t go to the Jade Beauty Parlor. I go to my Aunty Kate’s on Columbus Avenue and get it for free. But my father won’t let me have one. He likes a straight bob for babies like Susie and he likes braids for me.”
“Have you ever had a permanent?” asked Sandra.
“Oh no, it hurts,” said Mei Gwen. “I don’t like it—four hours of hurting your head! Oh no!”
“Still,” said Sandra in a longing tone, thinking of her own long stringy hair, “it would be nice to have curls.…”
Mei Gwen held her nose tight. “That stuff they use smells bad,” she said. “It’s cold and it’s heavy and they put your head in a big machine. I’ve watched my Aunty Kate do it. First it stings on one side, then it stings on the other. If you get it twice, your hair will turn brown and smell like a rotten fish.”
At the corner of Washington Street, the girls waved their hands to Policeman Mike. Then they skated down the hill slowly. A noisy cable car passed by loaded with people. It kept going clickety, clickety, click.
“I love to ride on the cable car, don’t you?” said Mei Gwen. She had not had many rides, but she liked to brag a little.
“My mother doesn’t let me,” said Sandra.
“Are you afraid?” asked Mei Gwen. “I like to ride on the outside seats and Elder Brother stands on the running board and holds on tight.”
“I’m afraid,” said Sandra. “I’d rather walk.”
“There is nothing to be afraid of!” Mei Gwen tossed her head and spoke as if she were an experienced traveler. “On the cable car you can see out better than on the bus. On the cable car you go sight-seeing for free, no extra pay, only the regular fare. Once my mother took me on the bus through the tunnel and we went shopping on Market Street, where all the Americans go. But the bus was crowded and the people mashed me and stepped on my toes. I did not like it. The bus went faster, but I could not see out at all.”
Mei Gwen wished Sandra could skate better, but she was having trouble with her skates. Suddenly one skate broke and she fell down. Two wheels came off and went rolling out into the street, just as another cable car came clanging along. They rolled right in front of the car.
The two girls stared in dismay. Would the cable car run over the wheels and break them? Or would the wheels land on the track and wreck the cable car? Sandra started to run out into the street, and when Mei Gwen pulled her back, she began to cry. The conductor saw them and pulled the cord.
The cable car slowed up to allow an automobile to pass. The grip man pulled hard on his long brake handle. The car stopped and the conductor got out. Mei Gwen called out to him, “The wheels came off this girl’s roller skates. They went under the cable car!”
The conductor reached under the car, picked up the wheels and brought them over to the curb. He brought them over to Sandra.
“A good thing they were too big to go down in the slot,” he said. “That would have clogged up the cable.” He climbed back on and waved his hand.
All the passengers were watching and smiling. The grip man pulled the long handle that gripped the cable in the slot below, and the cable car moved on. The girls waved until it turned into Powell Street.
“Too bad your skate broke,” said Mei Gwen. “I’ll ask my father to fix it for you.”
Sandra had stopped crying and was cheerful again. She skated on one skate and carried the broken one. At last the girls came to Commercial Street, and there at the door of the factory, the little children were waiting. Mother and Aunty Rose said the two girls could take them to the park.
“Watch out for the cars when you cross the street,” said Mother. Aunty Rose added, “Cross when the cars are a block away—if there is no light.”
Just then Jessie Chong came out of her house across the street. “Where are you taking them?” she called.
Mei Gwen did not answer.
“Can I go along and help you?” asked Jessie.
Mei Gwen tossed her head and ignored her. She turned to Sandra and the little ones. “Let’s play Marching!” she cried. “Let’s have a parade!”
She lined the children up in pairs. At the head of the line, Mei Gwen pushed Susie in her stroller. Cousin Dorinda came next holding Cousin Jean’s hand. Paul walked with James Gee, Larry Chew with his little brother Tom, and Sandra came last with little Lily Gee. There were only two corners to turn to get to Portsmouth Square, and a friendly policeman helped them across Kearny Street. The boys and girls made noises like a band playing and drums beating as they stamped their feet.
Once in the park, the procession broke up. All the children ran for the swings and slides. Mei Gwen and Sandra had a busy time pushing them and helping them up and down. The crowd was not large, the grass was green and the trees were shady. The park was a pleasant change from the sidewalks and from the dark, dusty interior of the factory.
Cousin Paul and James Gee, who were five, loved to dig in the sand pile. Mei Gwen was helping them build hills and roads for their toy cars, when someone called her. Looking up, she saw Felix, and with him, Frankie and Freddie. Felix was carrying the butterfly kite that Uncle Fred had made for him.
“What are you doing here?” asked Mei Gwen.
“I stopped for the boys after school,” said Felix, “the way you told me to. But they were not there. A boy in their class told me they were with Harry Lum and that Harry was going to fly his eagle kite. So I went home and got mine. There’s a good wind today.”
Harry Lum, a boy of fourteen, came down the walk carrying a large eagle kite made of transparent purple paper mounted on fine sticks of bamboo. Frankie and Freddie and other children crowded close to see it. Soon Sammy Hong appeared with his fish kite. Felix brought his butterfly kite and joined them. They walked to the lower part of the park, away from the trees.
“Aw, this is no place to fly kites,” said Sammy Hong. “I always go out to the Marina. There’s a good wind from the ocean out there at Aquatic Park.”
“Yes, but it’s too far,” said Harry. “We haven’t time to go so far today. Let’s have our contest now and see who is the winner. Let’s see who can stay up the longest.”
Mei Gwen and Sandra lined the little children up again and they all watched.
People in the park crowded up to see. The three boys ran with their kites against the wind, loosening the strings, and soon the fish, the eagle and the butterfly were soaring as high as the buildings around the square. Now the contest really began, as each boy tried to fight the other kites, manipulating his string to cut or break the strings of his opponents.
Felix ran breathlessly, pulling hard to keep his kite up. Would the eagle or the fish win? They were both larger and stronger than his butterfly. But the butterfly, though small, was wiry and tough. It stayed up, carried along steadily by the wind, while the eagle and the fish fell face downward and had to be raised aloft again.
It was very exciting to watch. Frankie and Freddie kept running after the kite flyers and Felix had to shout to them to stay back. Time slipped by, and Chinese school was completely forgotten.
Suddenly Mei Gwen heard her name called. There was Aunty Rose at the street corner, making motions for her to come and bring the children back to the factory.
“Sandra, let’s take the children marching again,” said Mei Gwen.
Off across the busy street the little procession went. The children watched the kites as long as they could see them. By the time Mei Gwen and Sandra returned to the park, the kite contest was over.
“Sammy’s fish won,” said Felix at the corner. “Everybody said it was unfair. Sammy Hong had razor blades on his string. His string crossed Harry’s and cut it—so the eagle went flying. Harry was mad about it—he hated to lose a wonderful kite like that. He started to beat Sammy up, but Sammy’s father was sitting there on a bench all the time watching. He put a quick stop to the fight.”