by Jennie Liu
“Wait a minute.” Yong craned his head around the crowd as if he’d spotted someone he knew. He dropped my hand. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Skirting the crowd, he walked over to a man at least ten years older than him. They talked several minutes before Yong came back to me.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“My boss.” Yong moved us back toward the shoes.
I glanced back for another look, but he had disappeared in the crowd.
“What did he want?”
“He just needs me to drive somewhere tomorrow.”
“Where?”
“Don’t ask so many questions.”
I don’t know why, but that grated on me. “You’re taking somebody to her new husband? Where are you picking her up?”
He shrugged and began to pick up shoes, studying each pair. He never talked about his work. He just went away, usually unexpectedly, and stayed for however long and came back when he came back. I wouldn’t hear from him for days at a time. “I don’t know,” he finally said.
“Your boss didn’t even tell you where you’re supposed to go?”
Yong sighed impatiently and gave me an awful look.
I hated that cold feeling he gave me, like I was some stranger. The rush of early times when we first met, when he had looked at me with smiles and adoring eyes, felt so far away. Lately when I saw him, he was often distant and didn’t even hold my hand. When we went back to his room, we would have sex, and then he would smoke, watch TV, roll off to sleep. At first I didn’t mind too much, but I had begun to feel bored myself. Still, I didn’t like to see him cross with me, so I plucked up a pair of sneakers and danced them on top of the other shoes, singing, “But you make so much nice money.”
He smirked then, and the night had gone on like always.
But now . . . I stop on the sidewalk, press my clenched hands against my stomach. I should have gone ahead and scheduled the termination, but I just had to get out of that place.
I’m in Yong’s neighborhood now. The two-lane streets are quieter here, with fewer streetlights. I turn into Yong’s lane. It’s dark, with only faint light from a few of the neighbors’ curtained windows. No stars are visible overheard, though the nighttime smog glows an unnatural yellow-gray from the illumination of the city.
At Yong’s flat, the windows are dark. I knock on the door just in case he’s asleep. No answer. I bang harder, even though I know that he isn’t there. I don’t know if he’s still away on the job, or if he’s back in town and just out for the night.
I sink down onto the narrow doorsill and huddle up against it while I think about what to do next. If Yong doesn’t come home tonight, I don’t know where I’ll stay. Gatekeeper Wu at the factory let me stash my things under the desk in the gatehouse, but I’ll have to pick them up soon.
I pull my wallet out of my bag and try to count my money, holding the bills toward the neighbor’s window to make them out. After the cost of the sonogram, I only have 532 yuan. And I’ll need that just to get by until I find another position.
I know I should have saved more. Some girls, like Luli and Dali, my roommate, never spend any money. Always eating at the canteen, never buying new clothes or going to the dance clubs. Dali sends most of her pay home to her family.
My only hope is that Yong will give me the money for the termination.
I stuff the money back into my wallet, push it deep inside my bag, plunk my head back against the door, and begin pulling out strands of hair. I wonder about the woman who left me on the side of the road. I can’t call her my mother. So many times over the years I’ve wondered about her, but I never get far in my imagining. She didn’t leave a sad, pleading note tucked inside my blankets like some of the mothers who abandoned their babies did. The caretakers supposed she left me near the entrance to the supermarket because of my pocks and my bad heart, because she couldn’t afford to have it fixed, or because she wasn’t married, or because she was married and they wanted to have a boy. It could have been any reason.
Someone turns into the alley, a dark silhouette against the light of the nearby street. I stand and step up onto the low doorsill, pull my coat tightly around myself, and squint, trying to make out if it’s Yong.
After a moment, I can see that it isn’t him. This person is thick around the middle and wears a long coat that flaps around his legs. I slump back against the door, disappointed. It’s really getting cold. I ran from Luli before I finished eating, and now I still feel hungry. If I go to get something to eat, I can also sit inside a warm restaurant. I just don’t want to miss Yong.
The man stops in front of me. “Is this Number 8, Wuyi Lane?” he asks. He wears a flat wool cap that shadows his broad face from the light of the neighbor’s window, but I can see frameless rectangular glasses perching on his wide nose.
“Yes.”
“I’m looking for Liang Yong.”
“He’s not here.”
“But this is his residence?”
I nod.
“Who are you?”
“I’m . . . a friend. I’m waiting for him too.”
“Is he coming home soon?”
I shrug. “Don’t know. He may be working.”
He studies me. I wonder who he is. He’s too old to be one of Yong’s friends—even older than Yong’s boss. With his cap and long coat, he looks like one of the officials who occasionally inspected the orphanage. I start to feel nervous, as if I’m about to be scolded by Foreman Chen at the factory.
“You’re a friend? Would you say, girlfriend?”
I shrug again. It’s none of his business.
“I’m a detective. Hired by a family to find their daughter.” He hands me a business card, which I can’t read because of the darkness. “Did you know that Liang Yong is a bride trafficker?”
My breath catches in my chest. I’m frozen in place, yet my head suddenly becomes very hot. The light from the neighbors’ windows refracts in the detective’s glasses as he takes a step forward.
“Where has he gone?”
I can’t say anything. I only shake my head slightly.
“I’ve given you a shock.” His voice softens. “You’d better get away from him. You’re in real danger. These bride traffickers sometimes get girls by wooing them. They find girls on dating websites, on chat rooms. The man will act like a boyfriend. He’ll tell a girl they’re going to go on a weekend trip together, take the girl far away from home, then sell her to a man in the countryside.”
I pinch my lips together, trembling. Maybe Ming put him up to this.
“How long have you been going around with Liang Yong?”
I don’t want to answer him, but his eyes stay fixed on me until I drop my hand and mumble, “Three months.”
His face twitches. I have the feeling he’s surprised.
“Yes!” I snap. “Really, more than three months! See, you’re wrong about Yong! It’s not him!” I’m about to tell him that it’s Yong’s boss he must be looking for, but I realize that I should keep my mouth shut.
The detective shakes his head. “I don’t know why he’s kept you for so long,” he murmurs. “Using you for himself? Maybe his customers aren’t so choosy about that. But I’m telling you, this man is a dangerous person. He kidnaps people! Young women like you. Can you imagine being taken away from your family and forced to submit to a strange man? You’d have to clean his house, cook his food, have his baby. For the rest of your life, you’d be trapped. This is going to happen to you if you let yourself be tricked.”
My face burns. Why do older people feel like they can say anything and tell you what to do? Even the girls from the factory with their prodding questions don’t talk to me like this. This man is even worse than the doctor at the clinic. I don’t have to believe him.
He speaks gently again. “Get away from him before it’s too late. Go home.”
Go home. If he only knew Yong’s home is the only one I have.
Still, I step off the doorsill and duck
past him and head toward the street. I just want to get away.
“If you see him, don’t tell him that I’m looking for him,” he calls out to me.
I don’t turn around. I stuff his card deep into my pocket.
Chapter 7
Luli
After Yun storms out of the restaurant, I hastily pay for the food, but by the time I get out to the street, she’s nowhere in sight. I rush back to the factory. I try her old room, thinking her roommates might’ve sneaked her in and let her stay overnight. Her things are gone, and the other girls haven’t seen her. We try calling her from their mobiles, but she doesn’t answer. Yun’s always chiding me because I still don’t have a phone. “Who would want to call me?” I say. She always answers that she would, that it would be easier for us to keep in touch, but I still haven’t gotten one. I finally go to bed, wishing I’d listened to her.
At breakfast, I tell Ming about my fight with Yun—leaving out the part about the baby, of course. Nobody talks about that kind of thing. “I need to find her,” I say to him. “Can you think of anywhere she might be?”
Ming doesn’t meet my eyes. “She’s probably just angry that my dad fired her. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll hear from her once she’s calmed down.”
I shake my head. I can’t just leave it at that. I have to make sure she’s all right. And I have to apologize for what I said to her. I shouldn’t have repeated a rumor, stuck my nose in something I know nothing about. She had a good point, after all—if Yong is really dangerous, wouldn’t he have shown it by now? Anyway, I hate that she’s mad at me. “Please, Ming,” I say. “I just have to know that she’s safe.”
He sighs. “You could try looking for her at Cradle Club tonight.” The name’s familiar. I went there once before with Yun and her roommates. I hadn’t liked the pulsing lights and the loud music thumping in my ears, and when the girls dragged me out to the crowded dance floor, I had felt stiff and mechanical. I flinch, thinking about going back there. “I’m not sure I remember the way,” I say hesitantly, and Ming sighs again.
“I’ll go with you.”
***
After dinner, Ming and I head out to look for Yun. Though it’s full dark, the factory entrance is bright as day, lit by the plaza’s floodlights. The gatekeeper with the thin moustache pulls it open for us as we approach. When he gets a good look at me, recognition comes over his face.
“Hey!” he barks at us. “Tell your friend she needs to get her stuff!” He steps over to the guardbox, flings the door open, and points at three large plastic bags shoved into a corner. Yun’s bright pink comforter overflows from one of the bags. “She should have gotten it last night.” He glares at me like this was my fault. “I told the other guard that I’ll throw it out at the end of my shift if she doesn’t pick it up by then. That’s in a few hours! I don’t mind doing her a favor, but I won’t get in trouble for it.”
I look at Ming, who only raises his brows. I nod to the guard, and as we hurry through, what he told me begins to sink in. I wonder if Ming feels the same worry—that Yun has been without her things since last night—but his face shows nothing. I speed up to keep pace with him as he leads me through the streets.
At the club, we have no trouble getting past the bouncer, even though I’m sure I don’t look eighteen. I’ve quickly learned that most places like this don’t enforce the drinking age. Although it’s pretty early in the night, several people are already standing at the high tables with their drinks, the women swaying on their heels, the guys smoking and leaning on their elbows. I scan the faces, searching for Yun. Colored dots of light swirl around the dark room. Bright strobes flash like lightning and make everyone on the dance floor look like they’re seizing. I feel dizzy myself. The wup-wupping music and flashing lights make me feel strange, disoriented. Though I’ve been here before, I feel deeply that I don’t know this place.
Ming grabs my elbow and quickly leads me on a circuit through the club. The music thunders in my ears. When Ming says something to me, I can’t hear him.
“What?” I shout.
He leans in and cups his mouth near my ear. “She’s not here! Let’s go.”
“Where?”
Ming shrugs.
I sigh. We just got here and rushed through the club. I do want to leave, but I’m not ready to give up. “Maybe we missed her. Let’s go around again!” I shout. I don’t know what else to do.
Impatience creeps into his face. “It’s no use. She isn’t here.”
“Well, we came all this way. It won’t hurt to go around one more time.”
Ming rolls his eyes, but we thread our way through, more slowly this time, glancing between the dancers and the people clumped up at the tables. I don’t see her. We end up back at the black-painted entry alcove, where the noise isn’t so deafening, though cold air blasts in each time the door opens.
“Okay?” Ming thumbs toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
I have to agree. “Where should we try next?”
“Don’t know.” He casts his eyes around the room distractedly. “I think we should go back. I’m tired. I want to go home.”
I’m tired too, thanks to sleeping badly, then working a full shift, all the time worrying about Yun. But if I go back to the dorm, I know I’ll sit up worrying again. I don’t like that she got so angry with me, but she’s like that. I know she’ll get over it if only I can talk to her. I only want to help her. She’s pregnant, fired, with only a possible bride trafficker to rely on. I don’t know what to believe about that. I just know I have to find Yun. “Why not have something to drink and stay awhile?” I say to Ming. “Maybe she’ll come in.”
“Luli, let’s go.” Ming pushes back his hair and scratches his head, clearly frustrated with me. “Yun can take care of herself. She’s probably with Yong right now.”
“With Yong. I know! You told me he was a kidnapper!” Mostly I say it to get a reaction from Ming. It’s simpler than explaining that Yun is pregnant and scared and angry at me, and that I have to make things right.
“What are you going to do when you find her? She won’t listen to you. You can’t tear her away from him. You can’t help her find a new position.” He’s still yelling. “How can you help her?”
I don’t know what I’m going to do when we find her. What she’s going to do. “I just want to make sure she’s okay! You’re the one who told me to warn her. Will you try her mobile again?”
He huffs impatiently but pulls out his phone, taps her number, and covers his other ear so he can hear. After a moment he shakes his head and shoves the phone into his pocket. “No answer.”
“Do you have Yong’s number? Do know where he lives?” I’m clutching at any hope. “She’s probably there if she doesn’t have her things. Let’s go to his place.” I’ll tell her I’m sorry and ask her to forget what I said. Beg her to be my friend again.
A dim light fixture overhead throws shadows on Ming’s face. I can see him itching to go home. “No. And if I did, I wouldn’t take you there. Maybe he’s a trafficker, or maybe he just works for one, but something’s shady there. I don’t want any part of it. And you should stay away. Yun made her choice.”
Anger shoots up in me and I feel my face grow hot. “Made her choice? You mean she didn’t want you!”
His eyes flash, and the muscles around his mouth and on his forehead twitch, not settling into any expression. I don’t know whether he’s shocked, furious, or sad, but he turns away. I watch him head back to the black-painted entry alcove, elbow past the people coming through the door, and leave the club.
Right away I wish I could take back what I said. I stand watching as the clubbers stream through the door, the girls throwing off their coats to show their dressy, tight outfits. Under my shapeless black coat, the long loose sweater I wear is completely out of place. My hair gathered in a band at the back of my neck isn’t pulled up high on my head or cut with sharp bangs. My cheeks and lips aren’t stained red, my eyelids aren’t colo
red glimmering blues and purples. I don’t belong here without Yun or Ming.
For some reason, I don’t think Ming is jealous over Yun anymore. It’s me who’s jealous over him. I should go after him. I don’t know how to talk to him about my jealous feelings, but I can tell him I’m sorry.
I’m standing beside the door, waiting for a break in the line of people coming in so I can leave, when Yong enters the club. A small duffel is slung across his shoulder over his blue leatherette jacket with metal buckles. He nods at the bouncer and heads to the bar. There, he hands the bag to the bartender, who takes it and stashes it under the counter before getting him a beer and leaning in to speak to him. Yong props forward on his elbows. His head turns to the side as the bartender talks into his ear, the spinning dots of light crossing over his back and profile.
I’ve never spoken to Yong, never really met him, only seen him a few times meeting up with Yun. She’s never introduced any of us girls or invited us to hang out with the two of them. He’s good-looking with his square face, though now his forehead is furrowed at whatever the bartender is saying. I wait until the bartender moves away before I edge around clubbers to approach Yong.
He is facing the bar, hovering over his beer. I stand behind him for several moments biting my lip, before I work up the nerve to speak. “Have you seen Yun?” He doesn’t hear me over the music, so I tap him on the shoulder.
He twists around on his stool, his eyebrows up in a startled expression.
“Have you seen Yun?” My throat is sore from trying to talk to Ming over the music, and my raised voice sounds strained and unnatural to me. I’m not used to yelling so much.