by Taylor Dean
“Paul,” she says again in her whisper-soft voice. “Do not forget.”
I nod and go on my way.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
November
JULIAN IS SILENT for so long, I don’t think he understands my story and I wonder if I need to repeat it once again.
“At my next visit to Piper’s house about a month later, I’d hoped to meet with Miss Pearl again. I wanted to question her. I couldn’t get the experience out of my mind. But she was gone. Piper said she’d up and moved. She didn’t even say goodbye and they never even saw a moving van. I stared at Miss Pearl’s sadly neglected yard and I knew whatever strange magic that had once existed there was now gone. Even the koi pond was dry. The sudden departure of Miss Pearl only served to flame my young imagination. I conjured up all kinds of scenarios wherein she was some kind of fortune teller, traveling to those who need her, delivering her message, and then leaving on a whim to her next assignment. At other times, I cursed myself for letting my mind wander frivolously. I convinced myself I’d imagined the whole thing.”
“Then you received tragic news.”
He is listening. Perhaps hanging on every word.
“Yes. That’s when I knew it was all true. The Red Bird confirmed it and sealed my fate.”
My lifelong obsession with men named Paul had never waned since my chance encounter with the delicate Chinese lady when I was only eleven. The incident had stuck with me. The moment had been so intense, so powerful. I would always remember the way I had felt; the wonder, the excitement, the absolute knowledge that something magical had just occurred. I knew I’d been given a gift from a lady who had great foresight into the future.
That being said, even after the Red Bird Incident, there were times over the years when the entire concept had seemed silly, if not ridiculous.
“I’ve had my moments where I doubted,” I tell him. “But I’ve never been able to deny what happened. I can’t let it go. I just can’t.” My heart hurts, an intense ache I’ve never felt before.
Miss Pearl said, If not followed your path may lead to unhappiness. How can I ignore that?
“I thought I could let it go when I found you. I tried, I really did. But I can’t do it. Do you understand? Please tell me you understand.”
At the tender age of eleven, I went home and told the story to my mother, outlining every detail, to include the feeling of paralysis I’d felt until Miss Pearl had released my hand.
My mother had quickly talked some sense into me.
“Darling daughter, you can’t find your soulmate based on a name. It’s nonsense. You’ll know the man who loves you when you meet him. It won’t be a name that convinces you of his love, it will be his actions.”
My mother was right. I have no doubt of that.
But it had never once stopped me from searching and I can’t stop now. I can’t dabble in Julian’s life any longer. Regardless of how perfect Julian is for me, going against my search for Paul feels so very wrong. I feel as though I’m lost, headed in the wrong direction, traveling down a long, dark path.
A dead end path.
Conversely, losing him makes me feel as though my insides are being ripped out of my body. I’m so confused I can’t see straight.
His silence leaves me reeling and I want to squirm under his concentrated stare.
“So . . . you’re saying you can’t be with me because of a name?” His jaw clenches with tension and his eyes narrow.
He’s angry and I don’t blame him. Unfortunately, all explanations aside, that one sentence says it all, plain and simple. “Yes.” My voice cracks and I know I’m going to break down again.
His chest moves up and down with exaggerated force. He runs his hands through his hair several times with . . . frustration? Weariness? Perhaps a mixture of both. His eyes wander around the room like he’s searching for a decent explanation, but can’t find one.
Then his potent gaze lands on me once again. “I love you, Savannah,” he breathes. “Do you hear me? I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.” His eyebrows furrow deeply and he hesitates, as if mulling over his next words. “If that means anything at all to you . . . you know where I am.”
I RUN HOME, holding back sobs that feel as though they’ll kill me with their strength. The devastated expression on Julian’s face will haunt me for a very long time. I land in Miss Li’s waiting arms.
“What is it, little one?” she says, patting my back.
“I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do . . .”
Miss Li immediately knows I’m upset over an affair of the heart. “Julian loves you, sweetheart.”
Yes, yes he does. Even after knowing what I can’t give him, he still loves me. It means the world to me. Yet I turned him away because he isn’t Paul. Because of tragic news. Because of a Red Bird.
“I love him too. But I know he’s not the right one for me.”
“Do you want him to be the right one?”
“Yes. More than anything.”
“Then you already know your answer.”
“No. I don’t, I don’t. I can’t do it. I know it’s wrong.” I cry some more into Miss Li’s shoulder. It’s the closest thing I have that resembles my mother’s comforting embrace.
“I don’t understand what the problem is, sweet Savannah,” she says, running her hand over my hair.
Besides my family and now Julian, I’ve never told another soul about Miss Pearl and I can’t bring myself to explain the entire crazy story to Miss Li. “I can’t explain. I just know it’s wrong.”
“Savannah, a life with love is happy; a life for love is foolish.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“You will learn. Happiness is something to do, something to love, something to hope for.”
That one I understand. My mother had said something similar. How can I find that happy life when I can’t even find Paul?
“Follow your heart, Savannah. It won’t lead you astray,” Miss Li says as she continues to pat my back.
But my heart is wrong. My one true love is Paul.
And I must keep searching.
Chapter Thirty
December
DARK DAYS FOLLOW. I move on auto-pilot, going through the motions of life. I teach school, I eat, I drink, I sleep.
I cry.
I cry because I miss Julian. Above all, I miss Julian.
Pine for him even.
I opt for cafeteria food, declining invitations to join the group at Burger, Burger. Facing Julian is more than I can handle, so I deny myself of his presence.
Sometimes, late at night, just before curfew, I slip out and take a walk. I park myself on the bus stop bench across from Burger, Burger and I watch the lamp in Julian’s window. It still serves as a beacon, calling to me as though it has the power to pull me closer. But now the lamp has somehow come to represent Julian in my mind. As long as that lamp burns bright in his apartment window, he’s still here, vibrant and alive, living and breathing, a force I can’t ignore.
When it extinguishes, I walk home, feeling lost and alone. A part of me is missing—and it now belongs to Julian. I’ll never get my misplaced piece back. Once you give your heart, you can’t take it back. I know that now, now that I know what real love is.
One night I let Dakota convince me to eat at Burger, Burger. My defenses are down because I long for just one more glimpse of Julian. When he notices me at the table, I see the way his smile dies, the way his eyes shutter. From then on, he avoids looking at me all evening and I wonder why I’ve allowed myself to be tortured in this fashion. When he makes the rounds, visiting the patrons at each table, I mentally prepare myself for his presence.
I shouldn’t have bothered. My magic cloak is working perfectly. Other than a meaningful nod, he doesn’t acknowledge me. I know he’s not being mean. He’s simply protecting his heart. If anything is to happen between us, it’s up to me. He made that perfectly clea
r. The ball’s in my court. He’s ready and willing. I’m the one keeping us apart. It’s enough to tear my insides wide open and I vow to never come here again. I just can’t do it.
“How was everything tonight?” he says to the group.
I close my eyes. The sound of his velvety voice alone rips me to shreds.
“I don’t know how I’m going to live without your cooking,” Hunter tells him. “Talk about culture shock. Mine will be in reverse.”
“On your return visit to China, your meals will be on the house, my friend,” Julian says as he and Hunter shake hands.
“I’ll take you up on that.”
“Anything else I can get you?” Julian says to the table at large.
Stacy raises her hand as if she’s in class.
“Yes, Stacy?” Julian’s face remains blank, like his humor has been squashed.
“I’d like to see your rooftop deck. You promised you’d show it to me one day.”
Julian rocks back on his heels. “I did, didn’t I?” He glances at his watch. “I have a few minutes. I can take you up there right now.”
“Okay,” Stacy says without delay.
Julian, ever the gentleman, holds out his hand to her and I watch their hands entwine as if it’s happening in slow motion.
Something inside of me dies.
They walk off, hand in hand. They’ll be all alone on the rooftop deck. It’s romantic up there, achingly so. As they reach the hallway, I can’t stand it anymore. I rise quickly, too quickly. The sound of my chair scrapes against the floor loudly and I cringe at the noise.
It makes Julian turn and stare at me. He releases Stacy’s hand and for a moment we are trapped in each other’s gaze.
I have no right to oppose. He can do whatever he wants with whomever he wants.
“Sorry,” I say. To him, to everyone at the table, to Stacy. I turn and leave just as fast as my legs will carry me. It was a mistake to go to Burger, Burger.
Never again. I should’ve known better.
November slips past in a haze and December rolls in.
Luli and Tao announce they’ve arranged a trip for us on Saturday to visit a local orphanage. They think it will be an uplifting experience for us to deliver toys to the less fortunate. We’re welcome to donate if we desire. Dakota and I purchase several stuffed animals for the trip. Christmas is fast approaching and even though the Chinese don’t celebrate Christmas, it helps us get in the gift-giving mood.
When Saturday morning rolls around, I’m eager for the visit. It’ll be nice to think of something other than myself for a change.
However, when the restaurant van pulls up—the back filled to the brim with toys, and with Julian at the wheel—I nearly opt out.
“C’mon, Savannah, you don’t have to talk to him. Just come with us,” Dakota coaxes.
“Okay,” I reluctantly agree.
Other than a brief nod and a quiet, “Savannah,” Julian doesn’t glance my way. He’s probably just as uncomfortable as I am.
It’s so very different from the van ride when we went “drifting.” This time Stacy proudly takes the front seat and monopolizes Julian’s attention. Ever since Julian and I broke up, Stacy has gone after him with no holds barred.
As far as I know, Julian hasn’t responded to her romantic overtures. But then, I know he won’t. He loves me, I have no doubt of that.
My eyes meet Julian’s in the rearview mirror a few times and I avert my gaze quickly, wishing I hadn’t chosen a spot to sit where I’d be in his line of sight.
During a rare moment of silence from Stacy, Julian says to the van at large, “Are you familiar with the one-child policy?”
“I know for years the Chinese have only been allowed to have one child,” Hunter says.
“Yes,” Julian agrees. “The government has made small motions toward change. First, couples were allowed to apply to have a second child and in some cases the government would grant a subsidy to applicants to encourage people to have more children. More recently in a historic act they amended the law to allow couples to have two children.”
“That’s a little progress,” Lori says with a sigh.
Julian continues with the discussion, clearly passionate about this subject. “It would appear the government recognizes that things need to change. Improvement started when they allowed a couple to have two children if both parents were only children. Then they allowed couples to have two children if only one parent was an only child. Of course, the law hasn’t been as strict in rural areas. They’ve allowed them to have a second child if the first one is a girl because a boy will be able to work the land. It’s all very confusing because the laws are upheld differently in the various provinces.
“Some of the more wealthy families who want more children are able to just pay the strict fines incurred by the government, but for most of the population those fines are too stiff to pay.
“To make matters worse, if a couple could only have one child, they wanted a son. A son carries on the family name and receives the inheritance. A daughter moves on to join another family. If their first child was a daughter, many would abandon or in some cases kill the little baby. That’s why there are so many unwanted little girls in the orphanages.”
Lori shakes her head. “It’s a sad state of affairs.”
“Yes, it is,” Jason agrees.
Julian adds, “Up until recently with the two-child announcement, all of these actions taken by the government led people to believe the one-child policy was changing, when in fact it had merely been tweaked to give the appearance of change. The two-child policy is a huge step forward. But many feel things will never really change. It gives the government social control and it’s lucrative.”
“In the past, hasn’t the government forced women who are pregnant with a second child into abortions or sterilization?” Dakota asks, her voice bitter.
The thought makes me hurt inside, an actual physical pain.
“Sadly, yes. By the way, the new policies don’t stop that from still happening,” Julian answers. “At any rate, China is now faced with a severe gender imbalance and it’s a very real crisis. There are not enough women.”
“Are all these toys from the collection box in your restaurant lobby?” Stacy is sitting sideways in her seat, facing Julian. Her entire body is turned toward him. Her body language says, “Look at me.”
“Yep. It was overflowing.”
Stacy touches his shoulder with a soft caress and leaves her hand there. “It’s so sweet that you do this for those poor, poor children.”
I hate Stacy’s hand on Julian’s shoulder. Hate it. I resist the urge to reach out and knock it off.
“What got you interested in the orphanages?” Stacy asks, her hand massaging Julian’s shoulder.
I wish I had the right to object. But I no longer have that privilege.
“Our Native Coordinators took us to tour the one we’re about to visit. I haven’t stopped visiting it ever since. You’ll see why when you get there. It’s heartbreaking. And this is one of the nicer orphanages.”
“I hope the law will change one day,” Dakota says, adjusting her seatbelt. “It’s gendercide.”
Hunter finally chimes in. “Originally, the one-child policy was designed to be a one-generation policy, wasn’t it? The government wanted to curb over-population.”
“Yes,” Julian answers. “It has back fired on them in a big way and created a demographic death sentence.”
“It’s not something the government should have any say about.” Dakota’s voice is tinged with outrage.
I remain quiet. I don’t feel like being noticed today.
“Agreed. So, how’s school going?” Julian again addresses the van at large.
Stacy answers. “I’m sad that it’s almost over. But, some of my children are a little hard to handle. In particular, the boys. The girls tend to be very sweet.”
“You know what the little boys in China have been nicknamed, don’t you?” Julia
n asks.
“Yes, I’ve heard it,” Lori says. “Little Emperors.”
Julian nods. “When families are only allowed to have one child, they tend to spoil that child rotten. Naturally, all of their love and attention is focused on that one child. Most of those only children are boys.”
“Resulting in the Little Emperors,” says Hunter.
“Yep.” Julian pulls up to a sparse looking building and backs the van up to the door, ready to unload.
We each load our arms with as much as we can carry and go inside.
I expect to be surrounded by squealing children, excited to receive a new toy. Instead we encounter a group of interested, yet stone-faced children. They clamor around us, curious, but slightly detached and expressionless. There seems to be no life in them, as if they were born without a soul and have lost all hope or happiness. They lack the basic human need to bond, in particular with their parents. The sight gives new meaning to “failure to thrive.” These children thrive in that they are alive, but there’s no light in their eyes, no gleam of mischief, no sparkle of lightheartedness.
It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
The childcare workers are friendly and nice; there simply aren’t enough of them to go around.
“Hey little ones, who wants a new toy?” Julian asks in a tone of voice I’ve never heard from him before.
Several of the younger children hold out their arms, but the older ones hold back, like they’re worried this is some kind of trick.
We pass out the toys, then hurry back to the van for a second load.
The children clutch their new toys with eager grasps, holding on as if the toy is something that’ll give them the love they so desperately crave.
Almost every single child is a girl. There are very few boys.
I don’t wait for a child to come to me. I go to one shy little girl in the back and scoop her up into my arms and hold her close. Her hands immediately grab my shirt with clenched fists and she rests her head on my shoulder.
Something inside of me breaks open, filling my chest with an overwhelming warmth. My arms, occupied with this precious child, are satisfied. An aching need within me is fulfilled and the gaping hole in my heart is temporarily mended.