Stealing Time awm-5

by Leslie Glass

  She did not think this was like the moments she had known before, when rough bosses in China teased the girls and did things to them that were not allowed but not prevented either. She thought the red-faced man wanted her to do some work she did not know how to do because she was so new in the golden city. But when the boss reached the top of the stairs, he did not seem angry. He pointed and laughed at the bundle on her head. He closed the plywood door on its squealing hinges and waved his hand at her to come with him to another stack of cut fabrics across the attic space. She let her breath out; she must have taken the wrong pieces. When she came to where he pointed, he reached over and lifted the bundle off her head. This caused her to let her head drop the way she'd been told by her mother and the aunties to do when men were talking to her. She'd been told not to look in their faces and tempt the devil. Later, whenever she had a fever, she saw herself like this, with her head turned away from trouble, then trouble coming after her anyway. She was busy warding off shame when his hand reached out and squeezed her breast as if it were a piece of fruit in the market. The vibration from the sewing machines roaring below was like her heart sinking to her feet, then beating helplessly on the floor as he took his other hand and seized her other breast. Time stopped.

  It had been so hot that August day; all Lin was wearing was a thin T-shirt and cotton pants with an elastic waistband. She was seventeen and had never owned a bra. He was an old man, a heavy man, smelly and red-faced, the big boss and source of her lucky job. He pushed his hands with spread fingers against her breasts, flattening them, then opened and closed his fingers around her nipples, pulling up the T-shirt so he could look at her stomach. He pushed the waistband of the pants down, so more of her stomach showed. He pinched her ribs. Then he said something in English and she was so terrified she thought she'd pee in her pants.

  Her eyes were on the ground, her chin was glued to her collarbone. Her tongue was frozen in her mouth. She could not look up. He had to pull up her chin to get where his mouth and brown teeth and big tongue wanted to go. He was in a hurry. He bent his knees to get lower, shoved his chest and hips at her. She was small and thin, undernourished, and so shocked she was shaking all over. He dragged her pants down to her feet, pulled her legs and her buttocks apart and held her up like a dummy for public ridicule then stabbed into her with deep, determined jabs like someone who was used to entering closed, unwilling places where nothing had ever been before. He hurt her so much she thought her body would split apart, but she did not dare to make a sound. She didn't want anyone to know.

  When the man was finished with her, he let her go. Her legs wouldn't hold her up; she fell to the floor. He let her sit there a few minutes and then made the motions for her to go back to work. When she went downstairs with the stack of unsewn garments, Annie Lee did not look at her. No one looked at her, and she looked at the floor. She did not tell the aunties. She did not tell her cousin, who was married to a rich man and would be angry because Lin hadn't listened to her. She could never go and live in their house, never look at either of them. She could not tell anyone, and she could not leave this place because she had no place to go. Her life was over.

  After that the red-faced man had no need to speak to her. He told her to go upstairs with his chin whenever he felt like it. One time only did she shake her head, and that week she got no fifty dollars to give the landlord and to pay for food for the aunties. When the old man tired of one way, he made her lie down, or mounted her from behind. He also pushed her down on her knees and put his thing in her mouth, then made noises as he pushed up and down her throat, until the white fluid pulsed out in her mouth. The only time she cried was the day he stuck it in her behind. That day, with a big smile, he gave her a ham as a present. Another day he gave her half of his big meat sandwich. Then he gave her some sweatshirts and some pants to hide her body when it swelled and hardened. He gave her some pills to stop her from throwing up. And he kept doing the same things to her until two days before the baby was born.

  Annie Lee was the one who shocked Lin with the news that she was going to have a baby. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She'd thought she was sick with a tumor, a cancer like her mother had died from. In the past she'd missed her period for months at a time. She was so irregular that she missed it more often than she had it. She didn't connect the sickness she felt and the swelling with having a baby. And she was not relieved to hear that she didn't have cancer, she was having a baby instead. She considered hanging herself, the way a young girl from Lin's village had done when Lin herself was very small. That had been a big event because the girl was only thirteen and no one would say who did it to her. Everyone had come to see the dead girl's bloated body and black face, Lin and her mother included.

  Annie Lee was the one who reassured her and told her she was a lucky girl. She promised she would not tell anyone and would not throw her out. It would be their secret. She would let Lin keep her job and she would help her when her time came. She said nothing about the red-faced boss. The father of Lin's baby was of no interest to Annie Lee. She also said nothing about what would happen to the baby after it was born. Lin didn't think about it. She was just grateful because her Chinese boss was as good as her word. Lin had been able to keep her job and hide her condition, and when her time came she did what Annie told her to do. She gave birth to her baby in the storage room of the factory. And when the baby was born, and she did not hear it cry, she was not unhappy when Annie told her it was born dead. It seemed to her only fair. The birth was one month ago. One month ago she'd thought her troubles were over.

  But on Tuesday when she still wasn't feeling well, Annie Lee came over, scowled angrily at her, and told her she'd made a mistake when she said the baby had died. The baby hadn't died. A lady had taken it away, but now the lady had changed her mind about keeping it and was bringing it back. And by the way,

  gongxi, gongxi,

  it was a boy.

  Congratulations!

  Lin was so stunned she almost fainted on the spot. She didn't know what to say.

  Finally she asked, "

  Weishenme?"

  "None of your business

  why,

  you stupid girl," Annie snapped. "Just take it away. Your fault, your problem."

  "Take it away?" Lin panicked. "Take it where?" She was whispering. She still didn't want anyone to know. She didn't want the aunties to know, nobody. She didn't know what to do with it. Throw it away in the garbage?

  "Take it away during your lunch break, then come back to work or you'll lose your job. And don't tell anyone."

  Her lunch break was ten minutes. She wasn't supposed to leave the building. What could she do with a baby in ten minutes? She didn't want a baby. She'd never wanted a baby. But why didn't the woman who took him want him, either? Lin couldn't understand why this was happening. Agonized, she finally asked, "Is something wrong with him?"

  "Nothing's wrong," Annie said coldly.

  "Why?" she couldn't stop asking the question. It was the only one she could think of. Why was the bad luck coming back to her? Why was this baby not dead and gone as Annie had told her it was? Must be a no-good baby. She thought of running out and putting the baby in the garbage. Then she and the aunties could disappear. They would cross the river and move to New Jersey where no one would ever find them.

  But that didn't happen. She didn't wait for her lunch break. She left the factory right away. She stood on the street for more than half an hour, waiting for the woman to bring the baby no one wanted. Lin watched her get out of a taxi; she was a rich woman. She was crying when she handed him over and told her more than once that he was a wonderful baby who deserved to be with his mother.

  Lin was too frightened to ask why give him back if he was so wonderful.

  "He's a good baby. Take good care of him," she said one last time.

  Lin didn't even look at his face before she got rid of him. By eleven-thirty, he was out of her life. Then she went home and lay on the old
blankets, refusing to say anything about anything to anybody. And the quarrels about what to do with her floated around her.

  Seven women lived in the apartment. They didn't like her taking up space on the floor for twenty-four hours a day, not taking turns as she was supposed to do. They talked about her bad cousin with no sense of family responsibility, who would probably not even come to take the corpse off their hands if she died. No one in the apartment thought Lin had a simple flu. She heard voices talking about taking her to the hospital. The aunties gave her special tea and tried to reason with her. But nothing they said helped Lin Tsing get over her fever. That same day Annie Lee from the factory came to talk to her, but the aunties hid her and said she wasn't there anymore, because they didn't want Annie Lee to find out that Lin was sick and fire her from her job.

  The next day the aunties agreed that something had to be done about Lin, but they weren't sure what. They did not want to leave Lin on the street in the hope that an ambulance would come for her, because even if such a lucky thing were to happen, the girl would disappear into some hospital and they would not be able to find her again. Or she might be put in jail or deported without their ever knowing. If she got well, she might tell who her friends were and have them all deported. Early Wednesday morning Annie Lee came to ask about Lin a second time. This time the white-haired woman was so worried and concerned about the girl, so far from angry about her being sick, and so eager to care for her, the two aunties were happy to accept the fifty dollars' goodwill money and let the good-hearted woman take Lin away for medical treatment.

  But Annie didn't take her to the hospital. She took her upstairs to that closet. Annie Lee promised she and the boss would take Lin to the doctors as soon as she told them what she'd done with the baby, but Annie had lied to her when the baby was born, and now Lin did not trust her anymore. She was as afraid of doctors as she was of the red-faced boss and Annie Lee, so she did not tell them what they wanted to know. She had no idea how long she had been in the closet when the boss came up to talk to her himself. He had forgotten that she couldn't speak English and didn't know what he was shouting at her. If she had been able to answer he wouldn't have known what she was saying. All she knew was that he was very angry. Then Annie Lee came back and made him stop. A little while later, the hitting and shaking started. She was pulled off the mattress and taken out into the attic room where the red-faced boss had raped her so many times. Her head was slammed against the floor and against the wall until she had no feeling. And still it went on.

  CHAPTER 33

  I think you should call April," was Milton's first response to the problem of Lin's ransom. It was late Thursday evening, and he was still wearing his restaurant uniform of black jacket, black pants, white shirt, and black tie. His handsome face looked unusually stern and serious. Annie Lee had not called back, demanding the money again. Nanci was even more worried than before, and now it was clear that somebody had to go into the city in the morning to deal with the situation. No more putting it off. She balked at the idea of calling April, though.

  "What's the matter with you? This is something for the police to deal with." Milton was getting impatient with her, even angry, and this was something that rarely happened.

  "I know." Nanci looked down at her hands, twisting a napkin around her fingers. How could she tell him she'd lied to April about everything? April would be mad if they called her now, and there'd be consequences, no question about that.

  "So let's call her."

  Nanci shook her head. "You know what would happen."

  "Nanci, we have to deal with this," Milton said.

  "I know." She wouldn't look at him.

  "Then let's call her."

  How could she tell him again about what happened when her father died, how much harder the cops had made the tragedy for her with all their questions? Even though she'd known at the time that they were just trying to find out what happened, they'd sounded so accusing. She'd felt it was her fault, and she'd been so frightened of the social workers and having the city take her away to a foster home, even deport her to China where she had no relatives who could take care of her. It was hard to explain these things to Milton, who was born here, had a big family, and didn't understand about money worries. April used to be a friend, but she was all cop now. Nothing but trouble, just like the rest of them.

  "Let's just give her the two thousand and get Lin back," Nanci said.

  They went around and around on it, and finally Milton suggested something that appealed to Nanci. He had a shady friend from Catholic school, Frankie Co-relli, who knew Chinatown and Little Italy better than anyone. He and Milton had started out in high school as opposites and sworn enemies, but had ended up unlikely friends. Milton had been responsible, got good grades, and had ambition. Frankie was a troublemaker then and had been in and out of trouble ever since. Milton hit on the idea of using Frankie as an intimidator to frighten the old-lady extortionist into giving Lin up without a bribe. Nanci liked this idea. It was always better to use local muscle. So Milton called Frankie, and Frankie was all excited: this kind of favor was right up his alley.

  "Two thousand dollars is what she wants," Milton told him. "If you need the money, I have it. I could even bring it in now." He looked at his wife, who was still torturing the napkin.

  "Don't worry about the money. This is nothing. I'll walk over to the place with Joey, you remember Joey Malconi? We'll have a little talk with the lady, get this thing straightened out. You'll have your cousin by noon. How about that for efficiency?"

  They had Frankie on the speaker phone so they both could talk to him. Nanci had listened to Milton explain the situation without comment. And she had heard Frankie's enthusiasm as he picked up the challenge to intimidate an extortionist and save a female in distress. He responded too eagerly, which made Nanci stay awake half the night worrying about whether Frankie was up to taking care of much of anything. Nanci knew some of Frankie's friends were rough. She knew she and Milton ought to be calling the police, but, once again, she just couldn't do it.

  CHAPTER 34

  It was almost one o'clock on Friday morning when April parked in her usual spot in front of the brick house in Astoria, Queens, that no longer felt like her home. Sharply etched in the sky just above the house was a crescent moon. As she glanced up and down the block, checking the lights in the neighbors' houses, the night air felt like warm breath on her face. She could almost feel the flowers in their neat little plots reaching up through the softening earth. All looked quiet and safe. But April knew this sense of peace was false. She touched the flip-down cell phone Mike had given her. It was small enough to live in her pocket. For the first time in her life she felt loved. She dawdled under the stars, taking her time getting into the house that had been big trouble for her from the very beginning.

  Soon after she'd settled into her first precinct, in Bed-Stuy, her father had picked out this house without breathing a word. He was a great reader of Chinese newpapers but not much of a talker. After much silent consultation with himself, he decided that he'd been living in a Chinatown walk-up for twenty-five years, saving every spare penny. Now he was ready to move up. Also, he'd been waiting for his girl child, Siyue

  Woo, to marry a rich man and or get a good job. The job had materialized before the rich man.

  April had been summoned to the National Bank of New York without any idea what for. Judy Chen, one of her oldest friends, was there with her father, Ronald Chen of Chen Realty, along with April's parents, both in their best clothes. The four of them made a nice family picture around April when the mortgage agent from the bank handed her the papers to sign. They jabbered at her for a while in Chinese, and that was the first she heard of their expectation that she would hand over her life savings (from working since before she was fourteen, washing hair in a beauty shop, selling groceries in Ma Fat's supermarket, and teaching English to people who were too shy to go to real classes) for the down payment. Ronald Chen argued that April
's old father might not be able to work much longer and needed his own life savings in case of war, famine, or possible retirement. On the other hand, anybody could see that April was young, not ugly, and had many chances to get ahead, with her whole life in front of her. Old Father, all of fifty-one, had nodded his agreement to all this. Old Mother had noddded, too.

  The mortgage was another shocker. Ronald Chen spoke for the Woo parents. If the mortgage was in April's name, then the venerable old parents wouldn't ever have to worry about their future. This little meeting more than six years ago had doomed April to endless worry about getting ahead in the department and securing enough overtime to cover her expenses.

  It wasn't until some weeks later, at the closing, that April found out the house wasn't in her name. For her parents, this, too, had made perfect sense. This way, if April were a bad daughter or disgraced them in any way, they could have their cake and eat it, too:

  They could throw her out of their house and still have her pay off the mortgage.

  With the facts of her life well in mind, April opened the front door and was immediately assaulted by a strange odor, hot and intense, as if something rotten were baking in the oven. The smell enveloped the house like a deep fog from which there was no escape. When April closed the door with a sharp clap, there was no response from her mother's poodle, Dim Sum. This worried her. She wrinkled her nose, fearing what Skinny Dragon was up to.

  The living room was dark. Beyond it, the kitchen door was open. Flickering light in there suggested that Skinny Dragon had the TV on with the sound off. If April had felt like hiding, she would have been grateful for the chance to run upstairs unnoticed, but tonight she wasn't hiding.