An Ocean Apart

by Gillian Chan

  I told Baba that he was not to worry about me — that Mr. Chee, Wong Bak and Tsung Sook all look after me when he cannot be there. That I was a fortunate girl to be here in Gold Mountain with so many kind “uncles.”

  Baba smiled and made me happy when he said I was a dutiful daughter, always making the best of things. “Go to your tea,” he said. “What harm can it do? Perhaps you may need a foreign friend, Ah-Mei.”

  I am very happy, so happy I could hop like a rabbit.

  Saturday, November 25

  Oh, Diary, my chores seemed never ending today. I felt silly that this tea was so important to me. Yet that did not stop me boasting about it to Yook Jieh when I saw her in front of the Mahs’ house. She was sad that I cannot visit her this afternoon, as she has something to tell me.

  I made myself as tidy as I could, brushing my hair until it shone. I put my clean blouse under my mattress last night so that it would have no creases.

  Mr. Chee walked me over to the building by the church, grumbling a little. He does not approve of the church and what he calls the gwei lo who work there. I do not think it is polite to call them foreign devils like this. This is their country and to them we are the foreigners! He waited until he saw the door open and then shuffled quickly off as if he did not want to be seen. He will stay in Mr. Lee’s store and I know he will be watching until I leave, and then we will walk to the restaurant together.

  Miss MacDonald is very tall. She is taller than Baba! Her nose is sharp like the beak of a bird. She reminds me of a heron! Am I being rude? I don’t mean to be, but she is very funny looking.

  Tea was in a room called the parlour. I would like to have a parlour. It was a beautiful room. The walls had paper with pink roses on it, and there were chairs with padded seats that matched. When you sat on them, they sank down. A little round table was set with tea things. My favourite was a plate like a tower in three parts around a pole. On the bottom part was what Miss MacDonald said was bread and butter. I liked the bread, but not the butter — that tasted bad, like milk that had soured. The next plate had buns, sticky with currants, which I liked. The top plate was the prettiest: little square cakes covered in pale, pale-coloured stuff, pink, yellow and blue. Each cake had little white sugar flowers on top. Miss MacDonald must have noticed me looking at them because she told me they were called iced fancies. I liked that name, but only the name was good, as the cakes were dry inside and the icing was very sweet.

  I sound like a greedy girl, talking about nothing but the food, Diary, but it was all so very new. While I ate, Miss MacDonald asked me so many questions: questions about my Baba, and my Ma. I told her that we were saving hard to pay the government tax and that maybe this time next year, Ma and Little Brother would be here with us. She shook her head, and I thought she was saying it couldn’t be done, so I told her how Baba worked as a houseboy, and about the restaurant, even about my job with the Lees. She told me that she didn’t doubt that we were hardworking, she was just sad that we should have to pay this tax, and that it would be so much better in Chinatown if the men could bring their families here. My mouth fell open. I thought all Canadians did not want us here.

  I wanted to hear more, to find out why she wanted to talk to me, but there was a big bonging noise, four times it came, and I saw it was a clock. I stood up fast and told her I must go because on Saturdays our restaurant is so busy, sometimes even with Canadian customers, and that Wong Bak and Tsung Sook need me there to take their orders, even though it is not really proper for me to do so. Miss MacDonald sighed and said that I must come again. I would like that.

  Sunday, November 26

  It has been a quiet day, but a good one. I have thought a lot about Miss MacDonald. She is nice but strange. Maybe she has a job for me. Then I can earn more money.

  Baba and I spent the afternoon quietly together in our room. Baba read a newspaper, and I read a little too; but a lot of the time, I watched Baba. Sometimes it seems like my eyes cannot see him enough. Perhaps because until I was eight and he returned home, he was just a man in a photograph and in stories that Ma told me — a hardworking, clever boy who was chosen by his uncle to go to Gold Mountain with him. His return was a big event in our village. I remember going from door to door with Baba as he gave a gift of strange, foreign food in cans to each household. Ai-yah, it was a fine time!

  On the journey here Baba promised we would have many such fine times in Canada. He told me how I would be a respected merchant’s daughter now that he and Uncle Wing-lok had set up a trading company with two others. Oh, Diary, I still see Baba’s face when Wing-lok was not there to greet us. It was white with sorrow when he learned of Uncle’s death and that the partners claimed there was no money for Baba, because it had been used to pay Wing-lok’s gambling debts. He scared me when he shouted that Wing-lok was no gambler. Only Wong Bak, Uncle’s friend from the old days, could calm Baba down. Without him, I do not know what would have happened to us. He found us our room, Baba’s job, and then suggested the restaurant. It is through him that our fortune is turning. We are lucky to have such a friend!

  Monday, November 27

  Such gloomy thoughts yesterday. Today I decided I would work at being more cheerful, and it was not hard because good things happened.

  The Lee children are getting easier for me, now that they know me. Arthur is the annoying one, but Lily helps with him, although I dread when he starts school and will walk with us!

  The best thing of all was that Bess is back! She would not say why she had been away, even though I did ask her. She does not look well: her skin is yellowish like her hair. I am puzzled. If she has been ill, why would she not tell me?

  I had so much to tell her, and for once I could because she seemed tired and did not interrupt me like she usually does. In fact, our only interruption was Ivor Jones, who came up and asked Bess a question. He wanted to know whether everything was all right at home, but he laughed when he said it, and she did not answer him. I thought Bess looked like she might cry, but she rubbed her eyes hard and asked me about Miss MacDonald. Bess thought the tea sounded grand and very fancy. She said something strange though: “Watch out, Mei-ling, she’s probably trying to convert you!” Then she called Miss MacDonald a do-gooder, which sounds like a nice thing to be, but Bess’s voice made it seem bad.

  Only one bad thing today, so much rain — my poor chilled, wet feet!

  Thursday, November 30

  Two days with no writing here. Diary, you must think I have forgotten all about you, but that is not the case. I have had nothing to write about, truly. Each day is the same: go to the Lees’, go to school, help Wong Bak in the restaurant, do my homework, walk home with Baba, go to bed.

  So what is different today?

  I saw Miss MacDonald. She was waiting for me outside our lodging house after I had taken Lily home. I think she wanted me to invite her to our room, but I could not. I would have been embarrassed for her to see how small it is, especially when she is used to such fine rooms. She asked if I would come to the church with her, but I did not want to do that. I have never been in a church. Baba does not speak out against church, like some, but we do not go. Also, Wong Bak was expecting me, so she walked with me, talking as we went.

  I am almost embarrassed to write what Miss MacDonald said, Diary, because I will sound like a swollen-headed girl. She is interested in me because there are so few girls my age in Chinatown, and she wondered what the story of my life was. She has seen me coming from school, so asked Mr. Hughes, whom she knew from church, and he told her my name. She said that he told her that I was one of the cleverest students he has ever had. That made my cheeks get very hot, and I could not look at her. He also told her that he thought I could go on to high school, but perhaps would need some extra help. She laughed then, and said that is where she came in. I thought this was silly because she was already here. At her church, they run English classes for some of the younger men, and boys still in school. Some boys even sleep in a big room there. Mi
ss MacDonald thinks maybe I could study at the church too.

  I wanted her to go then, because this was foolishness; it could not be. “I cannot go to high school,” I told her, “I must work more!”

  She stopped walking and took my hands in hers, so that I had to stop too. “Think about it, May,” she begged me. “High school is almost two years away; a lot could happen by then.”

  Miss MacDonald wanted to know if it was the boys that bothered me. I did not say anything. She said that I would work just with her, for maybe an hour each day. “Oh, do say yes, May! Maybe if other girls saw you studying with us, they might come too.”

  That made me think. Yook Jieh does not speak any English and I know she would like to learn. It also made me feel like a bad friend, because I still have not been to see her.

  We were at the restaurant, and Wong Bak was sitting on a crate in front, smoking a pipe. He stood up as we approached. It made me realize how small he is, how hunched over he has become, as Miss MacDonald was so much taller. Miss MacDonald stepped toward him with her hand outstretched. He grinned and shook it, but said nothing, indicating with his head that I should go inside with him.

  “Think about it, May!” Those words followed me in and lodged in my head. It is such a flattering, tempting offer. Maybe we would work in that beautiful parlour!

  December 1922

  Friday, December 1

  Yesterday Wong Bak told Baba about Miss MacDonald almost before Baba was through the restaurant door. Baba looked stern and wanted to know if this lady was bothering me. I told him all she said. The only time he smiled was when I told him my teacher’s words about me. He told me that I took after him, that he too would have been a scholar if he had been given the chance. My hopes rose just a little. I know it is selfish of me, Diary, and I said I would leave school as soon as I could, but I do love to study. Maybe if I studied more, I could have a really good job and earn lots and lots of money!

  Baba did not give me an answer then. He said he wanted to think about it some more. All that evening I caught him looking at me when he thought I would not notice. He, Wong Bak and Tsung Sook kept having whispered conversations. I tried to hear but only caught Tsung Sook saying that he wished he had had such an opportunity when he was my age.

  This morning before he left for work, Baba told me that I can do extra study with Miss MacDonald, but only on condition that I get to the restaurant by five and work extra hard. I am lucky to have such a modern-thinking Baba! Now I just hope that this will suit Miss MacDonald.

  I had great luck at school today too. Bess was more cheerful and has invited me on an adventure. Tomorrow, in the morning, there is a big event at Woodward’s. Bess wouldn’t say what it was, just laughed and said I would enjoy it. I know I should have asked Baba’s permission, but I have asked for so many things lately. It is just a little way away, and I will be with Bess. I will be back before anyone knows I am gone!

  Saturday, December 2

  I wish I had never gone! This has been a terrible day. I don’t even want to write about it, Diary, but if I do, perhaps it will help me make sense of what happened.

  Bess was waiting for me on the corner of Hastings and Carrall Streets, Declan with her. He did not look happy and neither did she. Mr. Chee had walked with me, grumbling all the time about how I always run after foreign devils. When he saw Bess and Declan he spat noisily on the street before turning away.

  Woodward’s is a huge building, and it was like a boat surrounded by a sea of people, all looking up at its roof. I wanted to go straight inside, but Bess pulled me back and told me to wait, as we were going to see Father Christmas arrive on the roof. She said something then that I did not understand, but which now makes a very horrible sense. She said she didn’t want to go into the store until it was very, very full of people.

  I had thought Father Christmas was just a story — but he is not! I saw him on the roof and he went down a chimney. Bess sniffed and said that this was something for stupid little kids. I wanted to watch and listen, but I felt shy because I was a big girl, and the only Chinese face there. I kept expecting someone to send me away.

  It was then the day was spoiled. Bess pulled me into the store and dragged me along with her until we were behind a crowd of people. There was a pile of little dolls on a table. Bess called them kewpies. She told me to stand in front of her, so that people could not see her. Then, moving quickly like a snake striking, she pushed some of the dolls up inside the sleeves of her coat.

  Words choked in my throat. I tried to say her name, tell her that she must not do this, but nothing came out.

  “Don’t stand there, gawping, Mei-ling!” Bess hissed at me. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I wanted that very much, in fact I wanted to run as fast as my feet could carry me. What if someone had seen Bess? What if they thought I, too, had taken things? Would I be sent back to China? What shame this would be for my family. All our dreams would be broken like pot shards.

  Bess did not let me run. She put her arm though mine, like she does in the yard at recess. “Walk slowly, don’t act guilty,” she warned me. We are guilty, I wanted to tell her, but I had no words for her.

  When we reached the sidewalk I pulled free and ran. I ran as fast as I could. I would not listen to Bess shouting after me. I did not feel my feet splash through the puddles. I ran and ran until I was safe here in our room with you, Diary. I

  Someone is knocking on our door. It must be Mr. Chee — time to go to the restaurant. How can I face Baba and the others? They will surely know.

  Sunday, December 3

  I do not know how I got through last night. Mr. Chee told on me. He told Baba, Wong Bak, Tsung Sook and anyone who would listen how I wanted to be with the foreign devils. Baba did not shout at me, but his face was sad that I had gone without telling him. He told me again that the one thing that worries him most of all is how badly people might treat me because I am a Chinese girl. Now it was like I was seeking out an opportunity to be hurt by going to big Canadian places. I wailed inside my heart to have given him such sadness — but that is not all. If he knew what my friend had done, and how I had been there, there would have been great anger too. My voice could only say little, that I was very sorry and would not go out with Bess again. That was easy, Diary, I do not want to go on her “adventures” ever, ever again.

  I am very, very tired. I could not sleep last night. I kept thinking of what Bess did. Why would she take those things? It was not a quick thing that came to her when she saw the dolls; she had planned it. Did she think that I would help her or want to take things too? Was Declan somewhere else in the store, also taking things? What will I say to her tomorrow?

  Another thing saddens me, Diary. I have been a selfish girl in so many ways lately. Oh, I have thought myself good because I have earned money, but I have thought only of things happening to me. I have not been thinking about Ma. The money for medicine will not reach her quickly. Will she be able to borrow money to pay for it? How is Grandmother? It is hard because they are so far away; it is easy just to think of here. Even here, I have not been a good friend. I have ignored Mr. Chee and Yook Jieh.

  Monday, December 4

  My feet dragged to school today. Lily’s chatter did not make the worms inside my stomach stop twisting. In fact, it made them worse. She talked about nothing but the Father Christmas at Woodward’s — her father had taken her and Arthur there to see him. She has asked him for a doll that says “Mama.” My heart jumped even more when she said she had seen me there, until I realized that she had only seen me outside.

  Bess was waiting for me as usual. Before I could speak, she linked her arm through mine, asking why I had run off on Saturday. My mouth fell open and I tried to say about what had happened, but she started talking over me, her voice loud and very cheerful. “Didn’t we have fun?” she asked me. Then she started laughing about how fat Father Christmas was, and how shocked I had looked when he squeezed down the chimney. I felt like I was a crazy
girl who perhaps imagined things. How could Bess act like nothing had happened? Every time I tried to talk about Saturday, she would talk over me in that strange voice, the one that tried to sound jolly, speaking about things that did not matter, like the colour of Ada Howe’s dress or the way Mr. Hughes wags his head when he is being serious. Bess’s eyes were not jolly, though. The look in them stopped me from being mad with her. I stopped trying to talk about Saturday. I am very confused and wish I could forget it. This is what Bess wants, I think. Why did she steal the dolls? Why is she being like this?

  To add to my unhappiness, it has become very, very cold. My feet hurt all the time — they ache and burn. Tomorrow I will try putting paper inside my shoes to keep the cold out and make the soles thicker.

  The only good thing today was that I saw Miss MacDonald and told her that my Baba had said I may come to her for help with schoolwork, but only for the little while between the end of school and when I go to the restaurant. She clapped her hands, saying, “Oh, May, that is capital!” I did not understand what it was she said, but her smile told me that she was happy. We have agreed that we will start next week, and I am to tell Mr. Hughes so that he may set extra work for us. I should feel very happy and lucky, but it is made sour by my worry over Bess.