Butterfly Tears

by Zoë S. Roy

  On another page, she discovers a short article entitled, “Special Exercises for Your Breasts,” with several photos of women modelling various types of bras. It reminds her of her fussy boyfriend, who used to care a lot about the way she dressed and made herself up. He wanted her to dress up wherever they went. Chinese etiquette for women states: “Obey your father before you grow up, and obey your husband after you get married.” So, she used to dress up and wear makeup just to please him. He became insufferable, but she put up with him because her parents preached that a virtuous girl did not change boyfriends. She even got a job in a daycare because her mother said it was excellent practice for motherhood.

  After years of passive obedience, she suddenly woke up. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, she rebelled as an adult. She did not care about clothing, or makeup, or motherhood anymore. She left her boyfriend and enrolled in a university away from home, majoring in mathematics. She wanted to prove to her parents that not only could girls learn math, but they could also teach math.

  When she broke with her ex, he’d said, “You’ll regret it.” Sometimes Lin asks herself: Do I regret leaving him? Her answer is always no. She feels only relief that he is out of her life. Away from him and away from her parents, she lives the way she prefers and pursues what she wants.

  ***

  She hears Joyce’s cheerful voice as she emerges from the other room. “Let’s go home,” she says, walking to the coat rack.

  “How was it?” asks Lin.

  “Hang on. I’ll tell you in the car.”

  Placing the magazine onto the coffee table, Lin rises and grabs her coat from the rack. Pulling it over her shoulders, she follows Joyce out of the building. It has stopped snowing, and everything around them looks fluffy and white. The sunset colours the surface of the snow with crimson beams.

  They climb into Joyce’s car. Joyce holds the steering wheel with one hand and shifts the gears with the other. When the car starts to move, Joyce asks, “Did you think he could see into your past?”

  “I don’t think so. He asked me if I had received a college education since I seemed so smart. But I didn’t answer him,” says Lin with a sense of triumph. “When he wanted to know whether I was married, I told him to guess. He definitely had trouble guessing things right.”

  “Why would you do that?” Joyce glances at Lin and raises her eyebrows. “How can he foretell things for you if you don’t co-operate?”

  “I think a fortune-teller is supposed to just know things. What kind of fortune-teller has to ask his clients for information?”

  “Like a psychiatrist, he needs to talk with you and analyze your situation. Then he can trace your past and define tendencies in your life,” explains Joyce with patience. “He read me very well. He told me right away that I hated my father and feared men. He even knew I’d experienced something severely painful.”

  “Severely painful?”

  Joyce nods. “It was my first experience with a man. The fortune-teller drew a human figure on the table with a piece of chalk when he spoke to me. Staring intently at the Tarot card I’d pulled from the deck in his hand and given to him, he moved his finger around the sketch. I think he was trying to match what he’d read from the card with his diagram on the table. Finally his hand paused beneath the figure’s abdomen. Then, he asked me, ‘Were you in too much pain to speak at that time?’ I think he must have sensed the pain I’d felt ten years earlier with my boyfriend at the time. I didn’t want to have sex with him and he got a little rough with me. I broke up with him afterwards.”

  Lin nods with what she hopes is a comforting smile on her face. “Would it be okay for me to ask why you hate your father?” she asks.

  Joyce is silent for just a moment. “He raped my mother when she was only fifteen years old. At that time he was already in his fifties…” Joyce’s hands tremble and the car abruptly shifts, crossing the road’s yellow line before veering back. “I was sent to an orphanage after my birth. That’s where I spent the first years of life, before I was finally adopted.”

  “How do you know this?” asks Lin under her breath.

  “My adoptive mother told me about the orphanage and where I could find it. As an adult, I went back and they gave me information about my background.”

  “Have you found your parents? I mean, your mother.”

  “Yes. My mother’s married, and has two other kids. My father was arrested and put behind bars. He died in a nursing home many years later. Every once in a while, I thought of going to see him, but I didn’t have the courage…” Her voice starts to quaver.

  “I can’t imagine how painful that must have been for you.”

  “I hate my father because he both created and destroyed my life at the same time. I’m his blood, but he’s my shame. And it is because of him that I can’t be with a man. Thinking of him just makes me feel sick. I really…”

  The car starts to weave again. Lin feels Joyce’s anger, and knows that she is no longer focusing on the road. She tries to calm her down. “There’s a gas station ahead. Maybe we should stop –”

  Lin does not have time to finish her sentence. A car is coming straight for them. Joyce’s hands shake on the steering wheel. Lin grabs the wheel from her and steers toward the road’s shoulder, narrowly missing a head-on collision.

  The car hurtles over an embankment. Lin is thrown against the window and then back against her seat. When the car lands with a thunderclap at the bottom of the ditch, she loses consciousness.

  Lin feels as though she were floating in the endless, black sky. A gentle touch makes her sense warmth. She opens her eyes slowly and finds herself in Joyce’s arms. She utters, “Yong, where are we?”

  “We’re in the ditch, Lin. The car is wrecked, but you saved our lives.” Joyce’s soft voice resounds in her ear. “We’ve got to go get help from the gas station, get them to tow the car out of the ditch.” Joyce’s voice strains with concern, but she manages a weak smile. “Lin, are you okay? Who’s Yong?”

  Lin shakes her head. She is confused and rattles. “Yong ? Did I say Yong?” Her face flushes. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

  The fortune-teller’s words suddenly come back to her, “Your lover is nearby and is waiting for you.” What did the fortune-teller mean? A lover nearby?

  The scene of rainbow flags floating over the heads of people marching along the path winding up Citadel Hill flashes in her mind. The parade was earlier that summer. She and Joyce watched the parade from the sidewalk that was crammed with spectators. “Let’s walk with them,” Joyce said on the spur of the moment. Grabbing Lin’s hand, Joyce pulled Lin seamlessly into the middle of the parade. They were welcomed by a group of women chanting and singing in unison as they waved a bright pink flag in their hands.

  Lin’s face feels hot. She is conscious of the warmth of Joyce’s body enveloping her. Raising her fingers to her head, Lin traces the small scratches on the side of her cheek. She stammers, “I … I need to see the fortune-teller again.”

  Surprised, Joyce asks, “Why?” She strokes Lin’s back lightly. “I don’t want any more fortune-telling. I think a person’s fate is destined at birth.”

  Lin sighs and leans her head on Joyce’s shoulder, aware of the sweet fragrance of her hair. She is surprised to hear herself murmur, “I wonder if I can find happiness here, in this new place.”

  “I know you can. We can.” Joyce says, running her fingers slowly through Lin’s hair. “Let’s get going. I’m thankful neither one of us is seriously hurt.”

  They help each other climb out of the car. Dusk has fallen. The gas station looks like a tight handful of stars glowing, just ahead of them. They make their way towards the station with hope, hand in hand. The streetlights turn on, casting their washed-out light on the snow-covered road. The two shadows merge into one as they move toward the lit oasis.

  Life Insurance

 
MEILI FELT EXHILARATED AS SHE flipped through the brochure. On the front page, the words in Chinese read, “Moon Life Insurance.” She picked up a telephone book from the shelf and sat down at the table. So far so good. She took a deep breath. I can earn money from home now.

  Beginning at the “A’s”, she stared at the very first page, searching out names that sounded Chinese. She found one and then pressed the numbers on her push-button phone. “Mr. An, how do you do? I’m calling from the Moon Life Insurance Company.”

  “Don’t understand your language. Sorry.” The other person hung up.

  She punched in another phone number. “Hi, Mrs. Ai.”

  “Speaking.”

  “I’m from the Moon Life…”

  “Sorry. I don’t need any insurance.”

  “Let me explain…” The woman hung up before Meili could finish her sentence.

  Meili started to worry. This isn’t as easy as I expected. She sat still for a moment at the table though her hand could not help but turn over the phone book. When her eyes fixed on the last page, she suddenly thought, Why not start at the end?

  She punched in one phone number, then another. Her finger began to ache, and her tongue became numb.

  Later that afternoon, Meili finally reached an elderly woman who showed some interest in the insurance plan and asked her to come over with more details. They made an appointment for 5:00 p.m.

  Meili put on makeup, and then dressed in business clothes. She looked at herself in a full-length mirror, and approved of her slender figure in the dark brown suit. Gold earrings glittered under her bobbed black hair, but she had dark circles under her eyes. Oh, who cares? The old lady won’t even notice, she thought.

  Twenty minutes later, Meili hurried away from the Eglinton subway station and walked east for about ten minutes. Finally she saw a house with a cherry tree full of red fruit in the front yard and the number 222 engraved on the brass plate that hung on the front door. Meili took a deep breath and glanced at her watch – 4:43 p.m.

  To her surprise, the door opened before she even had time to knock, and a woman with short, silver hair squinted at her as she held the door slightly ajar.

  “Come on in. I’m the person you are visiting,” said the elderly woman, smiling at Meili.

  “Mrs. Yang. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” The woman led Meili to a large armchair in the living room. After motioning for her to sit down, Mrs. Yang sank onto the couch next to the chair and said, “So, tell me what you are selling.”

  “My company has an excellent life insurance plan.” Meili took out a booklet from her bag and read it to Mrs. Yang. “Guarantees at maturity and death with our segregated funds. Easy savings through automatic monthly deposits…”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you. Can you explain this to me in Chinese?”

  “Of course.” Meili began speaking Chinese, which loosened her tongue. She described the policy as clearly as possible although “life insurance” was new jargon to her. It sounded like something to help people live longer. All Meili needed was to live well without worrying about life. She wondered what would insure a life free from uncertainty.

  “Okay, I’ll take it,” the woman announced emphatically.

  “Really? That’s great!” Meili was surprised. “I’ll sign you up right away,” she said with a delighted smile.

  Mrs. Yang looked Meili up and down with interest, and then asked, “By the way, are you married?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “You’re young and will find a good husband.” Mrs. Yang smiled again.

  “What about you? Are you … are you married?” asked Meili with curiosity.

  “I’m widowed. My husband died young so I raised my son by myself. Luckily, I inherited enough money from my late husband to be able to do so comfortably. Now my son sends me … money every month. He’s a dutiful boy, very well-educated, and he has a good job…” Meili thought that perhaps Mrs. Yang had not talked to anyone for a long time and needed a listener.

  “I’m so glad to talk to you,” Mrs. Yang added. Meili thought Mrs. Yang must have read her mind. “Everybody else I know is busy with their own family.” She gazed at Meili quizzically. “By the way, does your job bring you a lot of money?”

  “Ha,” Meili chuckled. “You’re my first client. It’s hard to get a customer. You know, not many people want life insurance.”

  “Like me, I don’t – I mean, I have a job for you if you wish.”

  “A job?”

  “I am looking for a companion,” said Mrs. Yang. “Spend half a day with me just to chat. Sometimes, maybe, we could go shopping.”

  “Everyday?”

  “No. Once a week is enough. I’ll pay you fifty dollars each time you come.”

  “Sure,” said Meili, sure that luck had finally found her. “I would really like to do this. Thanks.” She was elated. Chatting and keeping an elderly woman company seemed easier than babysitting for her sister. Unless she had the good fortune to get many more clients like Mrs. Yang, Meili felt fairly certain that working for Moon Life Insurance wasn’t going to even pay the rent.

  “Which day do you need me?” asked Meili.

  “How about every Saturday afternoon?”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  ***

  For the past three and half years, Meili had been living with her sister’s family and helped look after her niece on weekends as the little girl went to daycare during the week. It looked like meeting Mrs. Yang would help her escape babysitting on Saturdays. Why not? Meili needed to find her own niche in life, instead of depending on her sister. She wondered, Should I stand on my own two feet or try to find a husband I can depend on? She imagined and hoped for a happy life, complete with a worry-free future, just like anyone who bought a life insurance policy.

  One Saturday, having spent the afternoon with Mrs. Yang, Meili returned to her sister’s home. When she opened the door and smelled dinner, she felt hungry and rushed through the living room to the kitchen.

  “Meili, your food’s on the counter. We could only wait until six,” said Suli, her sister, who was watching TV in the living room.

  “That’s okay.” Meili hung her handbag on the back of a chair. Then she took a bowl and chopsticks, and sat at the kitchen table to eat her supper.

  After Meili had washed the dinner dishes, Suli joined her in the kitchen. “How’s your job going?”

  “Which one?”

  “With Mrs. Yang.”

  “So far so good. It’s easy. We spend most of the time just talking.”

  “Interesting. I wonder why she would hire someone just to chat with her.”

  “I guess because she’s lonely and needs a companion.”

  “You said she has a son. Does her son have a family or children?”

  “Her son lives in Montreal. Children? He isn’t even married. How can he have any children?”

  “Ha,” Suli laughed. “You don’t know enough about this country.”

  “What?” Meili disliked her tone, and her eyebrows went up. “I don’t know about this country because all I’ve done is stay home and take care of your kid…”

  “Whoa! Enough. You only babysit once a week now!” Suli frowned and changed the topic. “Do you enjoy selling life insurance policies?”

  “Yes, but so far I’ve only sold one policy.”

  “Keep trying. You might get lucky.” Suli hesitated for a minute then said, “Maybe you should start looking for a man. You don’t want to be living with me forever.”

  “I’ll try my luck. But, sis,” grumbled Meili. “I don’t need a mother hen.”

  Before her sister could answer, Meili took her handbag and left the kitchen for her bedroom. After she relaxed on the bed, with pillows surrounding her, Meili drew a newspaper out of her bag and searched the ads unde
r Personals and Friends. She finally focused on an ad that read: “A successful and professional businessman in his late thirties is interested in a long-term, committed relationship. Would like to meet someone who is an attractive Asian or Caucasian woman between 28-35 years old living in Canada.”

  Meili sat up. I’m the right person! A twenty-nine-year-old Chinese woman, smart, slim, and interesting. After examining the ad again, she got up to look for scissors. With excitement, she cut out the ad from the paper and copied down the phone number in her notebook. I’ll call as soon as possible. She almost shouted: My luck is just around the corner!

  ***

  Two weeks later, after setting up a date with the businessman whose ad she had seen in the personals, Meili decided to tell her sister about her plan.

  “Sis, will you come to my room?” asked Meili after they had finished dinner and tidied the kitchen.

  “Sure,” answered Suli, who left her daughter and her husband to watch Lion King and followed Meili into her room. “What’s new?”

  “I just wanted to let you know I’m going to meet a man,” said Meili, sitting on the edge of her bed.

  “A man! You didn’t tell me –” Suli caught her breath. “Okay, who is he?”

  “A businessman. His name is Linqi.”

  “Linqi? That’s a strange name… Is he in Toronto?”

  “No. I’ll be meeting him in Ottawa.”

  “What? Does he work in Ottawa?”

  “No, he works in Moncton.”

  “Are you crazy? You’re going to meet a man in Ottawa, where you don’t know anybody, or him, for that matter! Why didn’t you ask him to come to Toronto?”