China Dolls

by Lisa See

  Eddie still hadn’t appeared, and I could see Baba growing increasingly agitated, but Monroe was swell, sitting between Grace and me, putting tiny morsels from the main dishes into our rice bowls. (Could there be hope for Grace and Monroe yet? Doubtful … but maybe?) Baba and my other brothers talked among themselves; my sisters-in-law circulated to make sure the serving dishes never emptied, the teacups stayed full, and the children didn’t do anything to upset their elders, while I fretted the edge of my napkin. Where was Eddie? Why did he have to humiliate me this way? He came from a good family. Didn’t he know the effect his tardiness would have on his father-in-law?

  Eddie finally appeared and took the empty seat next to Baba. My father rapped his knuckles on the table to get everyone’s attention. The family fell silent as he congratulated me on my marriage and expressed “delight” at the forthcoming birth of his next grandchild through tight lips. Then Baba turned his attention to Eddie.

  “Thank you for bringing our daughter home,” he intoned. “Now that she’s married, she won’t be in nightclubs anymore.”

  Before Eddie could respond, I said, “Ba, the three of us have an act. I’m going back to the Forbidden City with my husband and Grace.”

  “Not possible!” Baba practically roared.

  “I’m afraid it is, sir.”

  Baba turned to the man with the unfamiliar voice—my husband—and scowled. “It’s bad enough I have a daughter who shows her legs and arms in public, but a married daughter? And pregnant too? Who do I have for a son-in-law, who would allow his wife to expose herself that way?”

  “I’m not exposing myself,” I said.

  Baba blew air from his nose like a water buffalo trying to chase away gnats. “I might have known something like this would happen.”

  “Ba, I came home—”

  “What use is a man who wears a coat of paint?” Baba asked, referring to Eddie. “He is a veneer with secrets inside.”

  I guess it was too much to have hoped that Baba wouldn’t have asked around about who his daughter had married.

  Baba raised his index finger. “Let me tell you what success is.”

  Monroe gave me a nudge and made a face which sent a message: Here he goes.

  “It’s what you accomplish over the course of a lifetime,” Baba began. “You get married and you have children. Eventually, they grow up and take care of you. When you die, your children and grandchildren make offerings to you in the afterworld. Are you going to do that for me?”

  “Are you asking, sir, how much money Helen and I will give you each month?” Eddie asked.

  Baba stiffened. “All my children give to the family pot. It’s their duty to give and mine to receive. You’ll be living here, and soon I’ll have to feed three of you. It’s tradition—”

  “Helen and I don’t follow that old way of thinking,” Eddie interrupted.

  “You will, if you want to live with us.”

  “We don’t want to live here.” Eddie surveyed the other men at the table—my brothers—and then his eyes came to rest on my father. “I’ll be earning enough for us to move very soon. We’ll still send you money each month out of respect, but we won’t put everything in your family pot.”

  We’d see about all that.

  RUBY

  Wisps of Clouds

  A woman isn’t just one thing. The past is in us, constantly changing us. Heartache and failure shift our perspectives as do joy and triumphs. At any moment, on any given day, we can be friends, competitors, or enemies. We can be generous or stingy, loving or petty, helpful or untrustworthy. Looking back, I had plenty of regrets. I’d told myself I was protecting Grace by not telling her about Joe, because I knew how hurt she’d be. I still believed my heart had been in the right place, but how the truth came out and how I handled things that awful night weren’t at all sensitive to Grace’s feelings. I’d been so harsh, trying to teach her a lesson about grown-ups and growing up. But teaching a lesson isn’t a part of friendship. Neither is being cruel. Now, as I sat in the shadows of the Forbidden City’s main room, watching Grace, Helen, and Eddie walk through the lobby and into the kitchen to go to the dressing rooms, I wondered what faces my friends would show me and I would show them. I knew I had changed a lot, but what about them?

  A few minutes later, they returned to the main room in their costumes. Charlie came out of his office and greeted them like lost children who’d been found—as though bringing them back here had been his idea. My friends took their positions, and the band began to play the Chinese Dancing Sweethearts’ music. The routine’s ending was perfect, with Eddie swirling Helen and Grace, their skirts flowing like wisps of clouds around them.

  “I don’t get it,” Charlie said as the last notes died and Helen and Grace came back to their feet.

  Eddie tried to be enthusiastic. “It’s great! It’s unique.”

  “It’s unique all right. It’s queer, and I don’t like it.” Charlie pressed his chin between a thumb and forefinger. “I’ll keep the married team together. Grace, one of the ponies went to the hospital last night with appendicitis. You can take her place.”

  She looked like she’d been slapped, but she didn’t seem to have the will to put up much of a fight.

  “I don’t know the routines,” she murmured meekly after a long pause.

  “Even on your worst day, you’re a better dancer than my other ponies. And fifty a week is more than you earned when you left.”

  “But that’s a lot less than what you said I’d get paid—”

  “As one of the Chinese Dancing Sweethearts,” Charlie finished for her. “Now hurry along to the dressing room. One of the girls will show you the costumes.” He pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “It’s great to have the three of you back.”

  Eddie refused to surrender. “I choreographed this routine and it’s good.”

  Charlie ignored the comment. “Come to my office when you’ve decided what you want to do, and we’ll go over the final details.”

  As he walked away, Eddie turned to Helen and Grace. “At least I won’t have to lift you two cows anymore,” he spat out resentfully.

  I understood how he felt. Within a few minutes of his return, Eddie’s hopes had been crushed. But it couldn’t have been a breeze for Helen or Grace either. I’d heard that Helen and Eddie were married—what a joke—and she would have to deal with his disappointment, as wives do, while Grace was out on her ear. I’d fought with Charlie about this. I’d made a plan to bring them back to the Forbidden City, he’d implemented it, and it had looked like it was going to work until that damn Lily got sick last night. Charlie asking the Chinese Dancing Sweethearts to show him their dance had been an unnecessarily pitiless ruse.

  “Why get Grace’s hopes up when you’re going to put her in the line?” I’d asked.

  “I’m the boss here,” he’d reminded me.

  Now, instead of being a headliner, Grace was bumped back to a pony. Tough break. The old Grace would have reminded Charlie that she’d been the head of the line, that she had seniority, or something, but Los Angeles seemed to have knocked the stuffing out of her.

  “You’re not going to be able to dance forever,” I heard Grace say pointedly to Helen. “You should have told Charlie you’re pregnant.”

  Eddie a father? That’s a good one.

  Eddie took Helen’s arm and led her to Charlie’s office, leaving Grace alone. I emerged from the shadows, put a peacemaking smile on my face, and tapped her shoulder. Grace turned. For a flash of a second her face lit up, then just as quickly went pale. She folded her arms protectively over her chest.

  “Ruby,” she said, her voice flat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Dancing, of course.”

  We stared at each other, soaking up the subtle changes the last fourteen months had brought. Did I want to weep because I still regretted hurting her, because I was so relieved to see her, or because she was so clearly unhappy to see me?

  “I wish you ha
dn’t left the way you did,” I said. “You never gave me a chance to explain.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. I saw you and Joe making love. I was childish. I didn’t react well.”

  “Grace, I’m so sorry about what happened—”

  “We’ll have to talk later,” she said, ignoring my apology. “I have to replace one of the ponies. Will you show me the costumes?”

  We pushed through the velvet curtain and into the backstage area. The two of us spoke with false politeness, jumping over weeks and months of details.

  “How do you keep your figure? You’re always so slim.”

  “Look who’s talking. You’re a knockout, but then you always were.”

  We entered the dressing room, and Grace spotted Irene, nursing her kid.

  “This is Ronny,” Irene said in greeting.

  Grace peeked at the wiggler and made all the predictable cute-baby comments. Ida, the only other original dancer still working as a pony, gave Grace a casual salute. I quickly rattled off the names of the new ponies, but they barely acknowledged Grace.

  “You’re replacing Lily.” I showed Grace the clothes rack. “These were her costumes. Now they’re yours. Here’s your first outfit.” I pulled a sequined cheongsam hemmed to barely cover a girl’s can off the rack. “As soon as you’ve changed, come visit me.”

  When I reached my section of mirror, I glanced at my reflection. My hair was piled on top of my head and my usual pair of white gardenias were pinned above my left ear. My eyes drifted across the glassy surface to see Grace shimmy out of her gown and slip into the costume for the opening number. She checked her makeup, decided it would do, and then came to the far end of the dressing room to where I was getting ready—only I wasn’t putting on clothes. I was taking them off and applying makeup over my arms. I caught Grace’s eyes in the mirror.

  “I’m Princess Tai,” I said.

  Grace’s mouth opened in a surprised oh! How could she still be so slow on the uptake?

  “You’re the one who was on the cover of Life? That Princess Tai?”

  “Didn’t you recognize me?”

  She shook her head. “We couldn’t see the dancer’s face—”

  “That was the idea. To keep the mystery.” I giggled. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? When this place first opened, Charlie wouldn’t hire me. Then he did everything he could to hire me.” I chattered because I was jittery about seeing Grace. “When the exposition reopened, I went back to work at Sally Rand’s. It was touch-and-go there for a while, though. Everyone still thought the exposition could go belly-up for good, but Billy Rose’s Aquacade turned around everyone’s fortunes. Have you heard of it?”

  “No.”

  “Hand me my eyelashes, will ya? They’re in that little box on the left. See? Thanks. As I was saying, the show starred Johnny Weissmuller. You know, Tarzan in the movies? They also hired this seventeen-year-old girl named Esther Williams. They were a huge hit. People came back to the exposition again and again to see that kid swim. Afterward, they came to the Gayway. Even Charlie came to give it the eyeball.” I turned my head and confided, “The Forbidden City was dying on the vine back then. No one was coming. Here,” I said, holding a sponge out to Grace. “Help me with my backside. Make sure the makeup goes on evenly.”

  Grace stared at the sponge. The other girls watched to see what she would do. Ida was frozen in place, probably praying that she’d be released from this task. Bringing tea to the Lim Sisters and doing little chores to make them feel special was fine for them, but I was Princess Tai! I was famous! Another performer might have asked for fresh-cut papaya and pineapple, but again, I was Princess Tai. There aren’t a lot of special benefits in this business, so I took what I could get. Making another girl powder my body and glue a flesh-colored piece of silk over my fun zone seemed just the ticket. It reminded every girl in the room that I was the top-billed star. But why would I ask Grace to perform this job? I’d orchestrated her return to the club, because I missed her and I wanted her to see what I’d become. She’d always thought she was the better dancer, but I was a star now. How can you be a star if you don’t act like one and have people love you and take care of you?

  Grace dabbed the sponge in foundation and smoothed it down my back, over my rear, and along my legs like some kind of automaton. I picked up a pouf from the counter, dipped it into a yellow Bakelite container, and patted powder on my chest, breasts, and down my stomach. Clouds of powder wisped away from my naked body and drifted across the room, causing the other girls to brush at their costumes and stare daggers at me in the mirror. Maybe I deserved it, but Grace remained oblivious to the discontent around us. The kid had surrendered to me that easily and completely. I felt bad that she’d so lost her spark and fight.

  “Charlie needed something—or someone—to spice things up,” I twittered nervously. “ ‘Come back to my place,’ he said. ‘You’ll be a headliner, but I can only pay you fifty a week, because you’re …’ ” I leaned down and whispered in Grace’s ear, “ ‘Japanese.’ ” I straightened. “Obviously, I wouldn’t be a problem for him anymore. The Sky Room has lots of Japanese ponies, and Charlie now has girls from Hawaii and the Philippines. There just aren’t enough Chinese girls to fill all the jobs, and customers see what they want to see: an all-Chinese revue.”

  “An Oriental is an Oriental is an Oriental—”

  “Anyway, I tell him my name is Ruby Tom. Only he doesn’t like it, see? ‘We’re going to turn you into something special—something no one else has,’ he said. ‘You’ll be Princess Tai, who escaped from China.’ If I was going to be a Chinese princess, then I sure as hell wasn’t going to accept fifty bucks a week!”

  “What about Joe?” she asked.

  Ah! The big question.

  “Joe? He still comes to the club, and I see him from time to time—”

  “He’s one of her many now,” Ida mumbled loud enough for us to hear.

  “Don’t you mean he’s one of your many now?” I shot back. The other girls laughed. I sought Grace’s eyes in the mirror. “He’s a long way from home, there’s a lot of temptation around here, and boys will be boys—”

  “Give the guy a break,” Ida cut me off. “You broke his heart, and Grace here threw him for a loop. Now he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing. Sowing some oats—”

  Grace clenched her jaw.

  “Try not to think about it, Grace,” I said comfortingly. “Here, take the pouf,” I ordered, changing the subject. “Make sure the powder covers everything.”

  Grace obeyed wordlessly.

  “Now that you’re here,” I continued, “you can always powder me. It’s good to have a real friend take care of Princess Tai. Help me with my shoes, will ya?”

  She kneeled before me and slipped the uncomfortably high-heeled shoes onto my feet. The red patent leather contrasted stunningly against my powdered skin. I leaned in to the mirror for a final look-see and to test that my gardenias were firmly in place.

  “I’m ready, except for my bubble.” I rolled my shoulders. “You’ll find it in the cubby under the stairs by the stage. The bubble needs to be perfectly clean, so use the cloth and spray I keep there. No smudges! I don’t want to look like I’ve been manhandled! Not until after the show!” I winked. “Before you go, I need your help with one more thing. My patch. As you know,” I said as Grace—who, it seemed, had not one ounce of feistiness left in her—awkwardly applied herself to the task, “Sally Rand worked with a fan, and so do I sometimes. But Princess Tai’s specialty is the bubble.”

  “Fiedee, fiedee, fiedee! Hurry, hurry, hurry! It’s showtime!” Charlie called through the door to the dressing room. The other girls began to leave. Grace started to rise, but I put a hand on her head. It was not my finest moment, but why—why—didn’t Grace fight back? Why didn’t she bat my hand away, stand up, and say, “Knock it off!” or “Eat a beet!” or “Get over yourself, Ruby”?

  “At first, I was scared to death,” I told her. “I was pract
ically frozen with fear. It’s hard to walk around the stage, holding the bubble just so. But ever since that article hit, we’ve been sold out every night. Now Charlie has to take reservations!”

  “Fiedee, fiedee, fiedee! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

  “Come on, Grace,” Ida called from the door. “You don’t want to miss the cue.”

  As I watched Grace leave with the other ponies, I decided I’d need to try a different strategy. I’d never been too keen on Helen, but if I played her right, then I might be able to catapult Grace out of the hole she’d dug for herself and win back her friendship. Okay, so it was a long shot, but a girl has to try.

  GRACE

  Just a Kid

  I easily picked up the first routine, which wasn’t all that different from the inaugural number on the Forbidden City’s opening night. As soon as it ended, I followed the other girls back to the dressing room for a quick change. Ruby asked me to stay with her once I was ready, but I returned to the curtain to watch the next act. The audience clapped and hooted when Bernice Chow—who’d replaced Li Tei Ming, who was “on the road”—appeared onstage to belt Ethel Merman’s trademark ditties. Jack Mak was up next. Maybe other people didn’t notice that he’d been drinking, but I did. And so did Irene, apparently; she acted the part of capable assistant except for the stinkeye she sent in his direction.

  I watched, but my mind was reeling. I’d been in Los Angeles for fourteen months, and left a complete failure. I arrived here, and became an instant failure when Charlie demoted me, and Helen and Eddie stabbed me in the back by saving their own hides. Then I saw Ruby. Talk about kicking someone when she’s already down! Who would have guessed it could get worse than that? But it did, because the next thing I knew I was powdering her and serving as her gal Friday. Brother! And it sounded like Ruby was still keeping up the masquerade of actually being Chinese. (Princess Tai. Ha!) But none of that really mattered, because what was happening wasn’t about her. It was about me. What was wrong with me? For a flash of a second, I saw things very clearly: I’d been beaten down my entire life—by my father, by my skin coloring, by circumstances that seemed beyond my control. The result: I’d never had a real boyfriend, and I’d let people push me around. I’d never fought hard enough for me. I may have been standing at the curtain of a swanky nightclub, but inside I was at rock bottom. I needed to start thinking of myself first—my happiness, my career, my heart. I was going to climb up. If that meant slapping some powder on Ruby—ugh—I’d do it. Lingering there, I began to feel fortified, even if it irked me that it had been Ruby who had jolted me awake. Damn her.