Paper Wife

by Laila Ibrahim

  “No beds next to me, but I saved you these by the window. Good spot for you,” June whispered close. “By the bathroom. Good for the baby, eh?”

  “You know?”

  “Of course.” June beamed and pointed at herself. “Two children; I see the signs!”

  Mei Ling stared at the cold metal beds. She pushed on the bare mesh that gave only a little—apparently they didn’t deserve mattresses. She laid out their bedding and felt again; it was marginally better. The mesh was barely detectable, and it wasn’t so cold through the material.

  “Bo, you will sleep here.” Mei Ling pointed to the bed on the right.

  “With Siew?”

  Mei Ling’s heart lurched at the girl’s name. She felt the same longing she heard in his young voice. She kept her reply cheerful. “No, with me. I’ll be right next to you.” She waved to the bed on the left side of the poles.

  Bo’s lip pushed out and started to quiver. Tears made his dark eyes shiny.

  Mei Ling shook her head and tsked to show her disapproval for his outward expression of emotion. She shared his sorrow, but they weren’t going to make a display of their pain, especially in front of these strangers.

  She sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her. He climbed up beside her, the frog from Siew in one hand and his carved rabbit in the other. June sat on her other side without waiting for an invitation.

  “I met everyone already,” June declared and started in on the report. “All the ladies here are Chinese. Only women in this building. Non-Chinese are in other rooms. The men are in the other building—also separated Chinese and not-Chinese. See that one sleeping over there? She has been here more than one year!”

  Mei Ling’s stomach sank. One year! She hadn’t imagined she’d be here for weeks, let alone months. A whole year—her daughter would be born by then. She looked around the horrid place—the walls were shiny white, clothes hung from the bed rails, and belongings were slid under the frames. The scent of humans and grease filled the air.

  Distracted, Mei Ling missed what June was saying, but she tuned back in at the warning in her voice.

  “Stay away. They are bad ladies, if you know what I mean. Only here for money.”

  Mei Ling didn’t know what June meant. “Who?”

  June pointed to the other corner of the room.

  “I can tell by their fancy, fancy clothes they are no good,” June insisted.

  Mei Ling’s confusion must have shown on her face, because June leaned in and whispered right into her ear, “Prostitutes.”

  A shiver of understanding shot through Mei Ling. She looked over but couldn’t see the women through the sheets hanging between the beds. She looked back at her friend. June nodded, her eyes big.

  Mei Ling stood up and casually looked over. The prostitutes were hardly more than children, maybe fourteen years old, dressed in nice silk gowns in bright red. They had red on their lips, which somehow made them look even younger.

  The three girls were giggling on the bed. One of them looked right at Mei Ling, a challenge in her weary eyes. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, Mei Ling averted her gaze.

  June pulled at her hand.

  “We just leave them alone and they leave us alone, eh?” June directed.

  “The Americans will let them in?” Mei Ling asked.

  “Yes. If their papers and their story go together, and they are healthy, they let them in. The tongs arrange it—for the money. Too many come in this way and make bad feelings from the Americans for all the Chinese.”

  She changed the subject. “You missed dinner, but my clan are the cooks, so I bring you crackers. That is all they can give me to bring up here. You are lucky to have me. I will make sure you get good food at Angel Island.”

  Once again, Mei Ling was struck by the irony of the name. Maybe it was a mistranslation. Perhaps in English angel was an angry ghost, not a kindly spirit.

  “Bo?!” Siew’s familiar voice cut through the air.

  Mei Ling’s heart leaped, and Bo flew from the bed in the direction of that wonderful sound. He rushed back a moment later, holding Siew’s hand, a huge grin on his round face.

  “Look, Mah-ma. Siew!” Bo said.

  Mei Ling nearly burst with joy. Siew was here, and Bo had called her Mah-ma! She waved Siew over and bowed.

  “No girls allowed over there, so I can be with you again,” Siew explained, bringing her shoulders up and scrunching her lips, as if she felt sheepish and uncertain.

  Mei Ling pointed to the bed she was sitting on, hoping to dispel any fear that Siew wasn’t welcome. “You sleep right here next to Bo.” She didn’t relish the idea of sleeping up high, especially if she was going to be here for months, growing larger and larger, but she was so happy to have Siew with them again that it didn’t matter. The children could sleep on the side-by-side lower beds; she’d make do with the top bunk.

  The next morning the sound of a bell woke Mei Ling before it was fully light outside. She looked over the edge of the bed where she had slept. The bunk below was empty. Bo was missing! In a panic she looked to see if Siew was still in her bunk. She was, and Bo was cuddled up next to the girl, fast asleep. He’d moved next to her in the night. Relief washed over Mei Ling.

  “Men eat first,” a bunkmate explained loudly to June. “Then us.”

  Mei Ling climbed down and woke the children. They walked to the cold tiled bathroom to wash up before breakfast. Siew flinched when she heard the loud sound of the toilet flushing, apparently for the first time. She was intrigued by that amenity and the running water in the faucet. It struck Mei Ling that she actually knew very little about the girl. She’d either been poor or lived in a rural village. From the looks of Suk Suk, her family wasn’t poor, but a wealthy uncle in America didn’t mean he took care of his family in China. Mei Ling vowed that whatever riches came to her in California, she would share with her family.

  The dining room was packed with tables. A line formed for overboiled rice and slimy vegetables. No tofu. No sauce. No tea. Even through her family’s downfall, Mei Ling had always drunk something that passed for tea in the morning. This really was a prison.

  Mei Ling attempted to eat the distasteful meal, but her stomach revolted. Her morning nausea wasn’t chased away by this food. True to her word, June managed to get them something extra—a banana. Another first for Siew. She was wary, but Bo’s excitement at seeing the yellow fruit was contagious, and she discovered that she loved it. Mei Ling’s bite went a little way in quelling her nausea.

  As they were leaving the dining hall, Mei Ling’s eye was caught by characters carved into the wall. It was painted over, but she could still make it out as a poem.

  It must have taken a very long time for this person to carve this poem into the wall. Would she be here so long? She looked around the dreary room. She placed her hand on her belly. Would this baby’s spirit want to grow here? With a heavy heart she followed June outside.

  “Do not think about that. We ignore the sad poems. Life in America is not perfect, but you can make a good one for you and for your children. I promise, promise,” June lectured.

  Mei Ling smiled, but her heart didn’t ignore so easily.

  They followed the line of women to a small metal cage lined with benches. A White lady sitting at one end welcomed the new women and introduced herself as Deaconess Katherine Maurer.

  June leaned over and whispered, “She is the angel of Angel Island. Very famous lady.”

  Mei Ling wondered if she was a hungry ghost or a helpful spirit. It turned out she was a bit of both. As a missionary from the Methodist church, she worked to make the lives of the hopeful detainees somewhat more bearable. Most days she brought packages and mail from the mainland, taught them some English words, and reviewed basic skills for survival in their new home.

  The three painted girls whispered to each other in one corner until the deaconess started calling out names. Then they listened attentively. The deaconess was delivering items from the mainland.
A jolt of pleasure shot through Mei Ling when her name was among those that were called.

  “Right here!” June pointed at Mei Ling.

  “------- -- -------,” the White woman said to Mei Ling. When Mei Ling stared in incomprehension, the woman gave a slight bow and offered a small bundle. Mei Ling unwrapped the bundle on the bench as Bo and Siew looked on with excitement. Tea!

  Pleased but surprised, Mei Ling looked at June for an answer.

  “From your husband,” June declared. “He did not forget you.”

  A small satisfied smile crossed over Mei Ling’s face as she read.

  Wife,

  I hope this tea will bring you some comfort during your stay. I await news of your release to your new home.

  Your husband

  It was a short but welcome note. Mei Ling admired the strength and elegance of his characters.

  When the White lady finished distributing the packages, there was no mistaking the disappointment in the eyes of one of the red-lipped girls. She hadn’t received anything. She and her two companions rushed away from the cage. The red-lipped girl glared at Mei Ling as she stormed by.

  The White lady others called Ma spoke out in English. “----. -- -- ---- -- ---- ---.”

  “She is teaching you English now,” June said with a poke. “She said, ‘Hello. It is nice to meet you,’” June translated. “She said ‘repeat.’”

  “-----,” Katherine Maurer said.

  The group repeated what she said.

  “-----,” the teacher chanted again.

  The group repeated what she said; this time Bo and Siew joined in.

  “-----,” Deaconess Maurer chanted again.

  The group chanted the word back. Mei Ling joined them in saying the word out loud, “Hello.”

  Bo, Siew, and June clapped for her.

  “You know an English word now!” June exclaimed.

  The lesson continued, quickly moving on to phrases that tripped up Mei Ling’s tongue and mind, though Bo and Siew seemed to keep up easily. It was frustrating, but she concentrated and did her best to form the awkward words.

  When the lesson was over, June asked Katherine Maurer when they would have their interviews, but the well-meaning White woman didn’t have any information for them. Mei Ling would have to wait it out—not knowing if it would be days, weeks, or even months.

  CHAPTER 10

  Angel Island

  June 1923

  Days dragged by with few respites from the boredom and pervasive despair. Unappetizing food, the dull accent in each day, gave Mei Ling a sense of time passing but did little to soothe her queasy stomach. June tried to get her something appealing to eat at each meal, but it wasn’t enough to keep her strong. Mei Ling’s face grew thinner as her belly began to protrude.

  Mei Ling feared that the information from the book would slip away before she met with the inspectors. She regularly reviewed the details, chanting under her breath the birth dates, lineage, and the layout of the village and their paper home. Siew had listened carefully enough on the boat that she chimed in when she heard a mistake.

  One morning, as she was writing a paragraph to her family, the red-lipped girl walked up to Mei Ling.

  “You can read?” she asked in perfect Cantonese.

  Mei Ling confirmed no guard was nearby and then nodded. Looking wary, the girl held out a piece of paper.

  “What does this say?” she demanded. As for most women, these characters probably held no meaning for her.

  Mei Ling took the wrinkled paper and read out loud:

  Dangers await you in America!

  Beware of Fahn Quai: Donaldina Cameron, the White Devil. She lives in a brick mission house on top of a hill in Chinatown. Fahn Quai keeps Chinese girls locked in the basement. She will torture and poison you. The foreign devil women eat the organs of beautiful Chinese girls because they believe this will make them strong. Never go to the House on the Hill! Fahn Quai has placed Tien Wu under her spell. Do not trust either of them.

  Mei Ling grimaced and looked at the girl. Her Dragon burned with outrage.

  “Where did you get this?!” she asked the girl.

  The red-lipped girl shrugged.

  Mei Ling looked back at the note and studied the words, wanting to carve them into her memory so she could also heed their warning.

  The girl held out her hand for the paper. A hard look on her face, she took the note and started to walk away. The girl turned back to give a slight bow to show gratitude. Mei Ling’s Dragon rumbled in protection of the girl shuffling back to her friends.

  Someone needed to help her find a path to an honorable life. Perhaps Ma Maurer had ideas for the girl.

  Interrupting her musing, Bo asked, “Pee?”

  Mei Ling took his hand and walked to the wretched bathroom. She could barely care for herself, Bo, and Siew in this place. What power did she have to protect the girls with the red lips?

  When given the chance, Mei Ling went to sessions with Deaconess Maurer. One morning she was delighted to be offered a napkin, a needle, and colorful embroidery floss. Unlike some of the other women, Mei Ling was already skilled at needlework. Bringing an image to life stitch by stitch was a gratifying distraction from the dreary confinement. While she didn’t earn any praise for her English, many of the women, including the deaconess, exclaimed over the beauty of her needlework.

  After six days on the island, a White lady, one of the matrons who did the inspections with the doctors, offered the women in her dorm a walk around the island. Mei Ling’s weak spirit rebelled at the idea of that much activity, but she could not deny the children the opportunity for some fresh air and exercise.

  Only a small troop joined in the walk, while most of the women from the barracks were too emotionally or physically tired and chose to stay locked in the grungy room. Once she was away from the building, Mei Ling was glad she had mustered up the energy to be outside. The view was breathtaking in all directions. The waves sparkled in the sun as the small band walked north until they saw Tiburon just a short distance across the water. It was a green-and-brown gem growing up from the bay.

  Forbidden from continuing around the island, they turned around and hiked south along a path past the hospital where the sick women were resting.

  Siew and Bo held hands in front of Mei Ling as they marched on a path through scrubby trees. Siew spun a story into Bo’s ear about the magical animals that lived in this land, her free hand gesturing as she spoke. Suddenly they passed out of the scrub, and the land across the sparkling bay popped into a stunning view. They stopped to look out.

  June pointed and said, “See the Campanile—the tower at the university in Berkeley? Like we see from the boat.”

  Mei Ling followed June’s finger. She nodded when she found the tall structure with a triangle on top jutting out at the bottom of the hills.

  “We will go there together one day,” she declared. Then she looked at Bo and Siew to make sure they were listening to her. “My children, Dorothy and Timothy, too. New friends for you!”

  June missed it, but Mei Ling saw a flash of fear and sorrow cross Siew’s face. Like Mei Ling, the little girl understood that this was a temporary arrangement.

  “Maybe Suk Suk will let us have visits.” Mei Ling dangled hope to the distressed child.

  “Really?” Siew asked.

  “I will ask. He seems like a very nice man,” Mei Ling replied.

  Siew’s face went flat, and she shrugged. Mei Ling’s chest constricted in sympathy. Losing her family, her home, and her country was difficult for Mei Ling at eighteen years old. It had to be even scarier for this six-year-old. She wanted to find the right words to soothe Siew’s fears, as her grandmother had always been able to for her, but her mind was blank.

  Instead she patted Siew’s back like Fuchan used to do for her, suddenly understanding more of what those pats contained—a passionate desire to offer comfort when you had no actual power to change the situation.

  When th
ey returned to the barracks the red-lipped girl was pacing in front of her bed, yelling something in Min, a language foreign to Mei Ling. June seemed to be following the words.

  The four of them observed the nearby drama from their small bunks just a few feet away.

  June leaned in and whispered an explanation into Mei Ling’s ear. “They discover she is having a baby, but she is not married.” June tsked in disapproval. “She has to go back on the next boat. Like I say, she is no good.”

  In a flash the young woman marched over to them, fury burning in her dark eyes. Leaning in so close to June that her hair brushed against Mei Ling’s cheek, she screamed in Cantonese, “You don’t know me, you stupid cow!”

  A furious and powerful demon had overtaken this young woman. She looked ready to kill June.

  Mei Ling’s heart beat hard and fast in her chest. She shielded Bo and Siew from the girl-woman’s fury. Before she had time to do anything else, the girl-woman spun away. She returned to her bunk and collapsed. Deflated of her anger, she suddenly looked like a scared child instead of an evil spirit.

  Her friends patted her shoulders. The other women in the barracks ignored her, probably afraid her fate might be contagious if they got too close. Soon a guard came to the door and called out, “Jui Lan.” The girl-woman stood. She carried a small bundle of goods in her arms. Her friends bowed their goodbyes and watched her leave in silence. She stopped at the threshold and looked around. She caught Mei Ling watching her. Jui Lan’s hard, sad eyes burned into Mei Ling’s memory. How could someone fall so low?

  The barracks was sober through the night and into the morning. They walked to breakfast with the nightmare of deportation as their companion. They all feared they would share a portion of Jui Lan’s fate, even June, who acted as if her landing were guaranteed.

  June returned to their table with four precious hard-boiled eggs from her clansman, but even that treat didn’t remove the unsettling blanket over Mei Ling’s soul.

  “I hear sad, sad news of Jui Lan,” June reported without the hint of glee that usually accompanied the setup that she was the bearer of interesting information.