by Lois Lenski
“How did you come out?” asked Mei Gwen.
“My pretty little butterfly didn’t stand a chance,” said Felix. “And poor Harry went home disgusted. At least I’ve still got my kite, and of course, Sammy still has his.” He looked around. “Now where have Frankie and Freddie gone? You go on home—I’ll have to hunt for them.”
Mei Gwen and Sandra sat on a bench and put on their roller skates. They went skating off up Clay Street, Mei Gwen on two skates, Sandra on one. When they reached home, they put their skates in Sandra’s apartment. Sandra brought out a ball and they played ball until Sandra fell and hurt her knee. Then her mother called her from their front bay window, so she went in. Mei Gwen went up to the top floor. She pulled out her chain and started to unlock the door. But her key was gone.
She looked again. Her identification tag and her skate key were there, but the door key was gone. Had she dropped it when she opened the chain to put the skate key on? She hunted in the hallway, but it wasn’t there. She went down to Sandra’s door and asked her about it, but Sandra knew nothing.
“How can I get in?” cried Mei Gwen, nearly in tears. “I’m locked out. What will I do? My mother will punish me when she finds I’ve lost my door key.”
“Why don’t you ask Felix what to do?” suggested Sandra.
“I don’t even know where Felix is,” said Mei Gwen. “He’s hunting for Frankie and Freddie, and won’t get home until late at night.”
“Your mother will let you in,” said Sandra.
“And punish me,” added Mei Gwen. “She’s working late tonight, too.”
“Come in here and wait until she comes,” said Sandra. But Mei Gwen started sadly down the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“Back to Portsmouth Square,” said Mei Gwen. “I’ve got to find that key before Mother gets home. I think I dropped it by that bench where we put our skates on to come home.”
Mei Gwen looked in the grass and on the sidewalk at the park, but she could not find her door key. She watched a group of girls playing on the grass, but they did not ask her to join them. She listened as they chanted their counting-out rhyme:
“My mother and your mother live across the street,
Sixteen, seventeen, eight Broadway;
Every time they have a fight
This is what they say:
Eecka, acka, bluebird,
Eecka, acka, out!”
Mei Gwen looked again for the key, then decided to go home. She walked up Washington Street, and was passing the public school when she heard the siren of an ambulance. Holding her hands over her ears, she saw the ambulance go whizzing up the hill. She heard a commotion and saw people running. Up at the corner of Washington and Mason something had happened. She ran too. A crowd had gathered.
“A little girl is hurt,” a man said. “She tried to cross on a red light, and an automobile struck her.”
The ambulance whizzed away with its little victim, leaving Policeman Mike talking to the car owner and questioning bystanders. Soon all the excitement was over.
Mei Gwen remembered that Mother had told her to bring something from the store. What was it? She could not think. She walked into the Fat Lung Grocery on the corner. She looked for her friend, Uncle Kee, but he was not there. The store was empty. Where had Uncle Kee gone?
Beside the door was a gum machine. Mei Gwen looked in the purse that was chained to her belt. She took out a penny and put it in the slot. She got a stick of gum and chewed it. She put in another penny and got another stick. What she wanted was a charm, and her third penny brought her one—a tiny rocket ship. She put it carefully inside her purse. It would be nice to hang on her good-luck bracelet. She wanted a watch or a heart or a four-leaf clover, but alas, her pennies were all gone.
Mei Gwen went into the store again and looked around. She picked up a jar of hard American candies and looked at their pretty colors. Suddenly something moved. She jumped and dropped the jar, frightened. It fell on the counter but did not break. There stood Uncle Kee beside her. A curtain had been pulled aside and there he was.
“What! A customer!” said Mr. Kee. “Neighbor Fong’s daughter! What does your mother need today, young lady?”
Mei Gwen stopped trembling. He took no notice of the dropped candy jar. “My mother told me to bring something, but I forget what she wanted.”
“Some dow gawk (long Chinese beans)? Some foo qwa (bitter melon)? Some lotus root or soybean cakes? Some dung chee (Chinese rice tamale)?”
The more things Uncle Kee suggested, the more confused Mei Gwen became.
Uncle Kee vanished behind the curtain again. Soon he came out with two smoked spareribs on a small plate, and offered them to Mei Gwen. She took the paper napkin in her hand, picked them up and ate them. She put the bones back on the plate and licked her lips.
“Good?” asked Uncle Kee. “They taste good?”
“Yes, thank you, Uncle Kee,” said Mei Gwen.
“You had better go home now,” said Mr. Kee gently, “or your mother will think you are lost.”
Tears came to Mei Gwen’s eyes. “It is not I but my key that is lost,” she said. “I am afraid to go home without it. I can’t get in.”
“Why not telephone your mother?” suggested Mr. Kee.
Mei Gwen looked in her purse, but it was empty. She had spent her last three pennies, and she had no nickels or dimes. “I have no money,” she said. “I have spent it all.”
“Here is a dime,” said Mr. Kee.
Mei Gwen put the dime in the slot and dialed the number, but there was no answer. The dime was returned and she gave it back to Mr. Kee.
“Nobody is at home,” said Mei Gwen sadly. “My mother is working late tonight. There is a rush order on.”
“Call her at the factory,” said Mr. Kee.
“Oh no,” said Mei Gwen. “She scolds me if I do that. It interrupts her work. She can’t stop to answer the phone.”
“Wait a little longer then,” said Mr. Kee cheerfully. “Your mother will soon come home.”
Customers came into the store and he was kept busy. Mei Gwen waited patiently by the open door. Suddenly a woman came rushing up on the sidewalk.
“Where is she? Where is my little girl?” she cried. “Where did the ambulance go? What hospital did they take her to? Did a car bump into her?”
People on the street crowded round the woman, trying to answer her, all talking at once. Suddenly Mei Gwen realized it was her own mother.
“Oh, Mother!” cried Mei Gwen, rushing out. “I’m not hurt. I was waiting in here with Uncle Kee. That was some strange girl who was taken to the hospital. It wasn’t me!”
Mother Fong took Mei Gwen in her arms and held her tight.
“When I got home so late and found you were not there, I came out on the street looking and they told me an automobile had struck somebody—”
“I lost my door key, Mother, and I couldn’t get in,” said Mei Gwen. “I forgot which vegetable you wanted me to buy … and Felix is out hunting for Frankie and Freddie.…”
But Mother was not thinking of keys or runaway boys or Chinese vegetables. “Thank God you are safe,” she said.
CHAPTER VIII
A Day to Go Fishing
“Oh, I want to ride on the cable car!” cried Mei Gwen.
Father smiled. “You do not wish to walk?”
“It’s real far to Fisherman’s Wharf, eighteen blocks,” said Mei Gwen. “I walk up the hill, down the hill, up the hill, down, then flat, and at last I get there. I walked it once and I know!”
Father laughed.
“I can walk there in half an hour,” said Felix, “or run in fifteen minutes.”
“You will have enough walking to do after you get there,” said Father, “so you’d better take the cable car.” He passed out money for carfare, fifteen cents for each and ten cents each for ice cream.
“But I’m afraid to ride on the outside seat,” said Mei Gwen. “I’d be scared to go round the corner.”
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p; “If you sit inside and hold on tight,” said Father, “you will not be in danger.”
“Here is your lunch,” said Mother.
She gave the children a paper bag containing tuna-fish sandwiches and apples. Sometimes on Saturdays, the Fongs planned holiday trips for their children to various parts of the city. Today they were going to meet Mei Gwen’s Italian friend, Dina Costelli, at Fisherman’s Wharf. Mei Gwen had seen the girl again at her father’s store and arranged it.
“Maybe we’ll see somebody fishing,” said Felix. “I used to fish with a red string in Alameda and it always brought me luck. When I grow up and make some money, I’m going to buy a place in Alameda. Then I can go fishing every day.”
“Take care of Frankie and Freddie,” said Mother. “Don’t let them get lost, or fall in San Francisco Bay.”
Father’s final advice to the children was serious.
“My children, you were born in America and have lived here all your lives,” he said. “Therefore you are Americans. Although you are of the Chinese race, you feel like Americans. But remember, the tourists who come to San Francisco from all parts of the country think of you as Chinese. Many of them have never seen Chinese children before. So you must always be thoughtful, polite and courteous, for you are representing your race. Do not do anything to make me ashamed of you.”
The sun was shining brightly as they started out. The children climbed on the first cable car that came. Mei Gwen sat down on an inside seat and soon forgot to be scared. Frankie and Freddie sat on the open seat that faced outward. Felix stood on the running board and held to the bar handle. He wore no hat, so his hair was soon blowing in the breeze.
Up and down over the hills, along Mason Street and into Columbus Avenue, the cable car rattled and bumped along. At the end of the line, it came to the turntable, where all the passengers got off. The children watched as the grip man and conductor pushed the tiny car around to face the other way. When it started back to town again, they walked several blocks and came to Fisherman’s Wharf.
Down at the water front the smell of the sea was strong. White-winged gulls circled overhead screeching. The wharf was a busy place. Along the covered sidewalk crowds of tourists were strolling, looking in at shop windows and buying souvenirs. On the curb were counters where seafood was sold, and tanks filled with boiling water where live crabs were cooked to order. The children walked slowly, trying to see everything.
Mei Gwen held her nose. “I don’t like this fishy smell,” she said.
“Here’s where all the fish come from,” said Felix, “so you’ve got to smell them. How do you know that Italian girl is going to meet you? She never came to your birthday party like she said she would.”
“She said she’s not allowed to go out at night,” said Mei Gwen. “That’s why she couldn’t come to my party. But she and her two brothers come to Fisherman’s Wharf every Saturday. She’s going to meet me by Romano’s Restaurant at ten o’clock. She knows all the best places to go.”
“But I thought we were going fishing,” said Frankie. “I want to get in a boat and catch a fish.”
“We have no boat or hooks or poles or lines,” said Felix. “How can we go fishing?”
“Let’s go where the fishermen are,” said Freddie. “I want to watch them. I want to see them pull a big whale out of the water.”
The children read the signs on all the fish restaurants. At last they came to Romano’s, and there was Dina Costelli standing beside the door. It was ten minutes after ten by the big clock inside.
“I thought you were never coming,” said Dina. “I’ve been waiting over an hour. We got here early.”
“The cable car was so slow,” said Mei Gwen. “We almost had to get out and push!”
Dina turned to the little boys. “Do you want to see two sea lions? Live ones?” she asked. “Come, I will take you there.”
Down the street, the barking of sea lions could be plainly heard. A short walk brought the children to a huge water tank on the sidewalk. It was enclosed in glass and the boys pushed up close to see. One sea lion was resting on a platform at the end, the other was snorting in the water. Tourists crowded around on all sides. Some paid fifteen cents for a small envelope of dry sardines and fed them. The sea lions jumped to catch the sardines, often turning somersaults. The water splashed out through an opening at the top and gave the boys a shower bath. They jumped back, laughing.
All this time, Mei Gwen kept her distance.
“Are you afraid?” asked Dina. “Those lazy old sea lions can’t hurt you.”
But Mei Gwen had seen enough. “Now where do we go?” she asked.
“You want to see my father’s boat?” asked Dina. “If he is there, we can go on it.”
“Whoopee!” cried Freddie. “We will go on the boat and catch a big fish! We will fry it and eat it all up.”
“But the boat is in the harbor now,” said Dina. “My father has to go across the bay and under Golden Gate Bridge and out into the Pacific Ocean to catch his fish. The men stay two or three days and come back with a big load, sometimes twenty thousand pounds. The dragnet goes down to the bottom of the ocean and brings up all kinds of fish—rock cod, codfish, flounder, sand dabs and sole.”
“But I thought people could catch fish right here at Fisherman’s Wharf,” said Frankie, “with a pole and line.”
“We used to fish on the other side of the bay when we lived in Alameda,” said Felix. “We fished with poles and lines.”
“Oh sure,” said Dina. “Some kids do that here, too. My brothers, they spend all their free time fishing. They’re here today somewhere. They brought all their fishing gear along. They’ve got a bunch of junk to fish with.…”
“Where are they?” asked Felix, getting excited.
“I don’t know,” said Dina. “It would be hard to find them.”
They walked along the street, then turned in at one of the piers. Here the square lagoon was lined on three sides with colorful fishing boats. There were small, bright-colored crab-fishing boats and larger, tall-masted sardine trawlers. Expensive Italian restaurants with large windows overlooked the lagoon. They stopped to watch a man lift steaming crabs from a tank of boiling water. Then Dina led the children around to the place where her father’s boat was tied up.
“There it is—the Angelina,” she said. “It’s a bottom-fish trawler.”
The tide was out and all the boats lay so low in the water, it was not possible to board the Angelina. Not far away a long brown net was spread out on the wharf to dry. An old man, wearing a stocking cap, knelt at one end with a shuttle and cord in his hand. He was mending holes in the net.
Dina spoke to him in Italian and he answered with a smile. But the Chinese children did not understand what he said.
“What’s that funny language he’s talking?” asked Frankie.
“Italian,” said Dina.
“It sounds funny to us,” said Mei Gwen, “just like Chinese sounds funny to you.”
“Old Tony says all the boats are in today because of rough weather,” explained Dina. “He thinks it’s going to storm before tonight. He says it takes five or six hours to get out to the place where they fish. They start about midnight, so they can fish in the daytime. They come back about eight at night and unload all their fish.”
“Does he know where your brothers are?” asked Felix.
Dina spoke to Old Tony. He answered, pointing to a pier farther away.
“Tony says they are at the Hyde Street pier,” said Dina. “I will take you boys there, and then Mei Gwen will come with me to my house. My mother wants to see her.”
Dina and Mei Gwen took the boys to Hyde Street and left them there. The pier was deserted except for one parked car. No tourists were strolling there and no souvenirs were for sale. A group of young boys were busily fishing. Dina pointed out her brothers Georgie and Joey. With them were three Mexican boys and a small colored boy. Felix and his two little brothers came up to watch.
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rgie and Joey were bell-fishing. A stiff strong wire was attached by a clothes hook to the plank at the edge of the pier. It stood up in the air and at the top there was a jingle bell. Down from the bell a fishing line dangled into the water below. When the fish began to bite the bait on the hook, the bell jingled.
Hearing the bell ring, Joey called out, “Come and spear them! Come and spear them, Georgie! It looks like striped bass!”
Georgie took his spear—a frog spear which he had bought at a fish-supply store—and hurried down a ladder to try his luck. The other boys lay down on the pier and looked over the edge. Georgie had scraped barnacles and small mussels off the piling with his knife and had crushed them up. Now he threw several handfuls into the water to attract the fish.
“Striped bass swim on top of the water,” said Georgie. “If you use barnacles and mussels for bait, they come up quick.”
Georgie had a cloth sack tied to his belt to put the fish in when he caught them. But no fish appeared. He was too late. The bass had swum past.
“Aw, shucks!” said the Negro boy. “That guy don’t know how to fish. He hasn’t caught anything all morning. I’m tired of watching him.”
“He thinks he knows all about fishing,” said the oldest Mexican boy, “but he can’t catch a thing. Come on, guys, let’s go.”
The four boys left the pier, disgusted. Now Felix was alone with his two brothers and the two Italian boys.
“Maybe the water’s too rough today,” said Felix. “That old fisherman, Tony, said it’s going to storm before night.”
“The best time to get fish,” said Georgie, “is when the tide is rough, going in or going out, very rough like today. The most we ever caught was on a day just like this—fourteen pile perch in one day.”
“How big were they?” asked Felix.
“The small ones were twelve inches,” said Georgie, “the big ones, twenty inches. I used the spear for the biggest, and Joey used the hook for the small ones.”
Felix thought of the red string and can of worms he had used in Alameda. How young and silly he was then! That kind of fishing was a joke! Felix forgot that the Costelli boys were strangers. He talked to them as if he had known them all his life. They showed him all their fishing tackle. They had many things he had never seen before—all kinds of weights and hooks and nets and poles and lines and spears. They explained all the clever tricks they had invented. The Italian boys, on the other hand, recognized a true fisherman when they saw one.