The note she’d received last week was dated from May. The information from China came slower and slower. She didn’t know if that was because the mail was delayed or lost in transit, the postage was too expensive for her family to afford, or if her family was too busy to write. She didn’t allow herself to imagine it was because they didn’t care. Whatever the cause on their end, she’d lost the habit of writing every week, though she honored them in her devotionals each day.
She put down her needlework and picked up a pen.
September 2, 1924
Dearest family,
Thank you for your recent note—I treasure every detail.
Our exciting news is that Siew, the little girl who we met on the boat, is living with us permanently. Our life is very busy and happy with three children. Our foster daughter is very helpful with Joy and Bo.
Kai Li is as hardworking as ever and now has two positions. He peddles fruits and vegetables from early in the morning until the afternoon. Then he cooks dinner for a prestigious family, the Pardees. The arrangement with them allows him to bring us dinner as well so we enjoy his cooking and his company most nights.
I continue to contribute to our family finances with the embroidery skills that I learned from Mah-ma and Ahma. I have found an excellent market for wedding gowns right in Oakland which I sell directly to customers. In addition a nearby store sells any table runners I have time to make. I honor you all with every stitch.
Siew began school today. I believe she will be eager to be a good student, and I am happy that our family’s tradition of educating girls will continue in our new home.
The dream of a public-funded school system is a reality here. Our friend June insists that our daughters will have an education equal in every way to our sons. She brought us to the University of California last week to remind our children to work hard in school so that they can qualify for admission and become successful in life.
When we rode up the tall tower in the center of campus, the elevator operator told us that fossils from wooly mammoths and saber-toothed tigers are stored on the floors that we passed by. They were found in a tar pit in Los Angeles. We didn’t actually see them, but I believe he wasn’t teasing us. June questioned the attendant to prove to us that there are many, many women and many Chinese who attend this prestigious university.
The view from the platform was breathtaking. We could see across the sparkling water all the way to San Francisco. In the middle of the bay were the famous islands: Alcatraz, where the prisoners are kept, and Angel Island, where we were detained. My heart stirred for all those detained there, though the numbers have dwindled enormously since the implementation of the new immigration laws.
We couldn’t make out our home in the crush of similar buildings, but it was there, just past the tall buildings in downtown Oakland.
At last we will enjoy tea from our ancestral chrysanthemums. The cutting took root in our small garden, and we have so many beautiful golden blossoms. We harvested and prepared them as you taught me, so we will enjoy them all winter—and perhaps all year. I sent honor to you as we prepared them—just as I honor you and our ancestors each morning.
Your devoted Mei Ling
She considered how much money to send to them and settled on twenty dollars rather than the ten she had sent the past few times. She hoped her family would take it as a sign of reverence and care, not ostentation. Mei Ling was acutely mindful that the news from China wasn’t nearly as cheerful or interesting as hers. She hoped her letter would be received by her sister with interest rather than resentment.
The Autumn Moon Festival was just a few weeks after the start of the academic year. Lincoln School held a gathering to celebrate it. Families were invited to come in the evening to see short plays.
Because Siew was bilingual, she played the part of the translator. She’d practiced so much that Mei Ling had memorized her lines too—the ones in English as well as the ones in Cantonese. Mei Ling’s ability to speak English wasn’t progressing as fast as she would like, but she was understanding more and more.
It felt like a holiday as the five of them set out as the full moon was rising over the hills to the east. Mei Ling stared at the shiny orb and thought about how far her life had come since the last harvest moon. A year ago she’d been looking for shelter in case Kai Li turned her out for having a daughter. Back then she’d known so little about the man who had brought her to this new home and didn’t trust him to stand by her. A year ago she hadn’t met Joy outside her body, which seemed unfathomable, and her dreams had been haunted with images of Siew nearly every night.
“Can you see the rabbit in the moon?” she asked Bo, pointing to the glowing orb.
They stopped walking and all stared upward.
“I see it,” Siew declared.
“Ummm . . .” Bo looked up, then a grin split his face. “Me too!”
He reached into his pocket for his little wooden rabbit. He held it up to the moon.
“Same, same,” Siew said. “See, Joy?”
Mei Ling felt, more than saw, Joy nod her head.
Bo nodded and returned the carving to his pocket. It still traveled with him most of the time, his connection to his first mother, but he kept it tucked away now, not clutched in desperation.
Mei Ling glanced at her husband, her son, and her daughters. The harmony between them was palpable. Her heart filled with love and gratitude. She looked at the moon and telegraphed blessings to her family in China. Tears pushed at the corners of her eyes.
Kai Li noticed, and his eyes furrowed.
“I’m happy,” she reassured him. “So happy.”
His face relaxed, and he nodded and smiled. “Me too, wife. Me too.”
After the skit they ate moon cakes in the schoolyard under the bright orb and colorful paper lanterns.
June exclaimed to Siew, “You speak so loud and clear in both languages.”
“Thank you, Auntie,” the girl replied with a smile.
Proud, Mei Ling nodded and patted Siew’s back. She had done especially well. In such a short time, she had made the adjustment to this new life.
“May we go play?” Siew asked.
Mei Ling nodded and Siew ran off with Bo. The Cantonese-speaking families clustered in a circle. Though their children all went to school together, the parents self-segregated by language: the immigrants speaking Cantonese, the American-born Chinese speaking English with each other, and the non-Chinese with their own circle of conversation.
When Siew, Bo, and Joy were adults they would join the American-born Chinese, regardless of their birthplace; their English would be pure. No matter how long she lived here or how much English she learned, Mei Ling’s accent would always mark her as foreign. Her children would be at home here in a way she never would. That realization was at once reassuring and disturbing.
Mei Ling watched Siew playing tag with a group of children. The girl held fast to Bo’s hand even though it made it harder for her to run. A Negro and a White child, as well as a Japanese girl, played too—all of them here for the Autumn Moon Festival. It was a beautiful, if strange, sight; the children had their own world, separate from their parents.
Mei Ling felt the energy of someone staring at her. She turned her head.
Suk Suk glared at her! He turned his head to look to where Mei Ling had been watching. His eyes went wide in surprise and then shrank in fury, his jaw tightening until it pulsed. He must have seen Siew. He turned his head back slowly to stare threateningly at Mei Ling. He leaned forward as if he were going to attack.
Adrenaline flooded her body, her mouth suddenly tasted like metal, her chest tightened, and her Dragon woke. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
He stormed toward her but stopped before he reached Mei Ling. Suk Suk pointed at her and then balled his hand into a fist. He spun away and walked to the playing children. He grabbed Siew’s friend Mimi by the arm. The girl flinched and dropped her head in submission. Suk Suk dragged her away fr
om her friends; the little girl was forced to run to keep up with the large man’s pace. He yelled across the yard. A woman in the American-born circle stopped midconversation and followed him out to the sidewalk.
Mei Ling stared at the spot where they vanished. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him, but she was. Leave! the ghost yelled in her mind. You must protect Siew.
CHAPTER 24
Oakland
September 1924
Mei Ling wanted to leave that very night, but Kai Li insisted that there was no need. Siew was safe in their home, and they had done nothing wrong by bringing her to live with them. Miss Haw had the right to allow Kai Li to fulfill any obligation Siew had to work. The housekeeper was very pleased with their arrangement and frequently told Kai Li so. He assured her that men like Suk Suk hated to be caught off guard, but that he had no reason to harm Siew. He had most likely acted threatening out of embarrassment.
Mei Ling wanted to believe her husband, but the ghost filled her head with the demand to protect Siew. Her fiercest desire was to keep the girl close at all times, but Kai Li didn’t want Suk Suk to interfere with Siew’s education. Mei Ling reluctantly agreed, but the next morning she instructed Siew not to leave school with anyone other than Mei Ling. Not even June or another trusted adult. Only Mei Ling.
In the afternoon Mei Ling arrived at Lincoln School so early that the yard was empty. She stared at the direction Siew would be coming from, her heart pounding in fear that the girl would never come out, certain she’d been snatched by Suk Suk. But soon enough Siew was waving and skipping toward them from her classroom. Jack Wong, Suk Suk, was nowhere in sight.
Refusing the children’s request to play in the park, Mei Ling took them straight home where she felt marginally safer once the door was locked with Siew inside the house, but she was still agitated.
In the waking world Siew was safe, but it was otherwise in Mei Ling’s dreams. Too many nights she woke with an image of Siew’s face behind the cages, or Siew’s head bobbing in the salty bay by the Golden Gate, or Siew pleading to live with them. There were many flavors to her dream, but in all of them Siew needed her help, and Mei Ling had failed her.
She’d wake in a panic, her heart beating hard. Sometimes tears wet her cheeks. After confirming that Siew was safe in their home, she would lie back down, but most of the time sleep eluded her.
Fear and exhaustion were Mei Ling’s constant companions. Days passed with the same routine: Mei Ling reminding Siew to only come home with her, coming straight home, and locking the door.
She told the children it was because she had to work, but they could tell that her mood was sour. They retreated to the bedroom each afternoon, leaving Mei Ling alone while the ghost hissed in the background.
As the days grew shorter with the changing season, the bad dreams and the images of Suk Suk intruding upon their home came less frequently. Weeks went by without any sight of him. Her concern for Siew hadn’t dissipated entirely, but perhaps Kai Li was correct and the man wasn’t going to disturb them any further.
Each time fear arose, Mei Ling prayed to Quan Yin, May Siew be free from harm. Mei Ling remained alert but optimistic that their lives weren’t going to be destroyed.
A pounding on the door roused her from a deep sleep. Mei Ling sat up, fear exploding in her heart and radiating to the tips of her fingers. She frantically shook Kai Li’s shoulder.
“Someone is here!” she said. “Wake up.”
His eyes popped open.
“Let me in!” a man’s voice shouted as he pounded again.
Kai Li leaped out of bed and rushed to the living room. Mei Ling followed as far as the bedroom doorway. She peered past the crack between the door and jamb.
“Who’s there?” Kai Li asked, his voice rough.
“Me,” a deep voice answered. “Jack Wong.”
Mei Ling’s stomach lurched. She left the bedroom, closing the door tight behind her. The children, especially Siew, mustn’t learn he was a threat. Kai Li looked at her, an unspoken question on his face. Despite her fears, she wanted to discover what this man wanted. She nodded her consent and Kai Li opened the door.
Suk Suk stood in the doorway, drunk and disheveled, reeking of alcohol. He hung an arm along the door frame, leaning into their home but not coming inside. His blurry red eyes slowly looked around. Mei Ling would have pitied him if she weren’t so frightened and angry at his intrusion.
“Where is she?” Mr. Wong demanded, looking past Kai Li to stare right at Mei Ling.
Despite her fear, she came closer to him and whispered, “Siew is asleep. It’s late.”
Suddenly the man appeared confused. He looked at Kai Li, then back at Mei Ling. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, nodding.
“Shhh.” Suk Suk put his finger to his lips and slurred out, “Don’t wake her. She’s just a little girl.”
Her Dragon, ready to fight, was thrown by his changed demeanor. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. His breathing, slow and heavy, made Mei Ling wonder if he was falling asleep. Suddenly he opened his eyes, anger simmering in him.
“I never wanted to see her again. Look what you’ve done!” He hissed, “She was supposed to work there until she was fourteen so I wouldn’t have to think about her, but now . . . you ruined it.” He glared at Mei Ling. “I blame you. You ruined it. My daughter plays with her!”
Mei Ling felt his fury like a physical blow.
“I don’t know how you got her away from that house. She can stay here for now,” he declared, “but she has a debt to pay when she’s older. You”—he pointed at Mei Ling—“can’t change that. No matter where you go, the tongs will find you.” He slowly moved his head back and forth, each word enunciated and definitive. “There is no escape. Chinnnaaa. Ammmerrricaaa. It doesn’t matter. No escape.”
He spun around and left. Mei Ling collapsed onto the couch, tears streaming down her face. She could hardly breathe. Siew isn’t safe. You can’t keep her safe, the ghost shouted again and again in her mind.
Kai Li sat by her side and put an arm around her shoulder. She looked at him. The tenderness and fear in his eyes overwhelmed her. She sobbed against his chest, mindful of muffling her sounds because of the children.
When her tears stopped, she sat up.
“Will we never have peace?” she implored.
“We will think of something,” he replied. “We have seven years.”
Her Dragon exploded inside her. She leaped up, wanting to scream at him. Think of something? That is your solution?!
She heard the click of a door closing. Her head whipped around, and her attention immediately moved to the children; one of them was awake! She went into the bedroom. All three were in bed. Siew lay with her eyes closed, but her shallow breathing told Mei Ling she was only pretending to be asleep. She crossed to Siew’s side and got down close. She rubbed Siew’s back. Siew shrugged her off. The child had been listening. Mei Ling’s Dragon growled with equal measures of sorrow and fury.
“We will protect you,” Mei Ling said, her voice hoarse and tight. “I promise. We will.”
But Mei Ling wasn’t certain of her own pledge.
Mei Ling stared at the photograph. Her fingers ran across Mui Mui’s sweet little face. She was the only one grinning in the photo, her cheeks high and her teeth bright. She was close to Siew’s age when they took the picture. None of them had any idea that in less than a year she would be gone forever.
She looked at the only other photograph in their home. Bo was hardly recognizable. Siew and Joy were missing altogether. Take another, now. The urge to preserve her family in a photo overwhelmed her. She wanted to do it that very moment, but Kai Li was still working.
On the way home from getting Siew at school, they stopped at the photographer’s studio. Mei Ling nearly changed her mind when she heard the price, but her desire was so strong that she was willing to spend the money. She made an appointment for Sunday.
&n
bsp; Mei Ling paced around the small apartment in the dark, waiting for Kai Li to return. By the time he arrived, the children were asleep. This time of year, the holidays as the Americans called it, the demands on him were continuous. He left early and returned late so that they didn’t see him when they were awake at all.
“We must have a photograph,” she declared as soon as he walked through the door. “Of the five of us!”
His dirty fingers rubbed his eyes and he exhaled hard. He stared at her, looking too weary to fight. He nodded and said, “I will make an appointment for after the Western New Year. The extra work from the holidays will give us the means.”
“No. Now,” she said. “I made an appointment for Sunday.”
“Wife, why the urgency?” he asked.
Now, the ghost demanded. Her eyes welled up as she was flooded with sorrow.
“What if we aren’t even left with a picture of her? She will fade from our memories as if she never existed,” she whispered, her voice squeaky and her chin quivering.
“Oh, wife.” His face contorted in pain. “Is this what you do, when it’s dark and the children are asleep?”
She nodded.
He took her hands, looked right at her, and said, “We can find a way to take care of this. Siew will not be forced into prostitution or lost to us.”
“How can you be certain?” she asked.
“I found her. She’s living with us.”
Mei Ling nodded. It was astounding that Kai Li had discovered a way for Siew to be with them. She wanted to believe in her husband and his capacity to keep their family whole, but she knew too well that parents couldn’t always protect their children.
Mei Ling vowed to herself and to the ghost to do whatever it took to keep Siew safe.
CHAPTER 25
Oakland
January 1925
“He’s come again,” Mei Ling told her groggy and confused husband.
Paper Wife Page 22