Paper Wife, Page 5

  The wagon dropped them off at another windowless room near the harbor. Kai Li greeted the owner as if they were old friends. Mei Ling watched him chat about his journey to Guangzhou and was pleased that he introduced her and Bo to the man, though her heartbeat quickened to hear her false name. There was no kitchen to cook in or food service in this rooming house, so they walked to the harbor for their evening meal.

  “It’s beautiful,” Mei Ling exclaimed when she saw the water.

  Sampans, small boats, floated on the harbor; beyond them was the shifting open water. The cool breeze on her face felt like a blessing from the gods. She smiled at Bo, who was beaming, delighted by the seabirds darting through the air. Mei Ling could watch this scene for hours and never tire of its constant movement and shifting colors.

  Kai Li pointed to a large ship in the port.

  “Our ship, the Persia Maru, will be like that one, though ours will fly a Japanese flag.”

  Mei Ling studied the enormous vessel. It was larger than a building, holding more people than her entire village. Huge ropes secured it to the moorings, and men scurried on and off carrying goods in large baskets. Some baskets were so heavy that two men carried them suspended between two poles. In three days she would leave China in a floating city like that, a thought that was mostly terrifying but a little exciting too.

  The next morning Kai Li brought them to a photography studio. He didn’t give an explanation, but she could sense he felt some urgency to have a picture of the three of them together.

  An assistant brought them to a room filled with ready-made clothes, the Western and Chinese outfits segregated from one another.

  “Select what you like. Size is of no concern; we can make anything look like it fits,” the little bald man said and then left them alone.

  Mei Ling followed Kai Li to the Chinese side. He slid individual tunics across the pole one by one. They were clumped by style and color into five or six coordinated outfits in a large range of sizes. He stopped when he got to bright-red silk with embroidery and detailing exquisite enough for nobles. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. Did he want to buy these? She had never worn anything so beautiful in her life. She crossed to him, fingering the material, trying to read his mind.

  “It is lovely,” she said, offering hesitant consent for something she didn’t know if he could afford.

  Kai Li nodded and then crossed to the Western clothes. He slid through their complicated outfits until he came to a set that met his approval. Without asking her opinion, he returned to find the assistant.

  The man removed the largest red silk tunic and assisted Kai Li into it right over his clothes. He adjusted the top using pins and the pants using rope until, from the front, it looked like it was tailored to Kai Li. Discomfort flooded through Mei Ling when the assistant turned his attention to her, obviously sizing her up with his eyes. While the matching red garment hung on the pole, he pinned and adjusted it. With a flourish he indicated that she should put it on. She was grateful he didn’t attempt to touch her, but she felt self-conscious as the two men watched her button the long tunic. The assistant looked self-satisfied that it appeared to be a perfect fit from the front, despite the folds of extra fabric in the back.

  Fitting Bo wasn’t so easy. He screamed when the man tried to touch him. With a jerk of his head, Kai Li directed her to intervene. She took the tunic and pants from the man and knelt down in front of Bo.

  “You wear this and we will all match, see?” Mei Ling explained. Then she pulled his hands up and slid the small tunic over his head. He didn’t resist. She turned him around, encircled him with her arms, and held out the pants. Using her to balance, he stepped into each long leg.

  “Good boy,” she whispered into his ear. The pant legs hung so long that she feared he would stumble if he tried to walk. Rather than risk more tears, she scooped him up. Kai Li nodded his approval, and they went into the room with the camera.

  The photographer posed them in a row, but after looking through his lens, he had Bo stand on a stool. The boy perched between them, one hand clutching his little brown rabbit and the other resting on Mei Ling’s arm for balance. The man bent behind the camera and directed them to hold still. Mei Ling steeled herself for a long wait, but the man straightened up almost immediately. The process had improved immensely in the five years since she had last posed for a photo.

  The photographer removed a large glass plate and replaced it with another. After one more exposure in these outfits, they exchanged their clothes for the Western costumes Kai Li had picked out. This time they posed close to one another on a Western-style couch, with Bo sitting on his father’s lap.

  The man took one last shot of Bo’s face by itself, and then they were finished.

  “Return tomorrow,” the man said. “After noon they will be ready.” He quoted a price for one of each and indicated that a second of each would be at a much-reduced price.

  Mei Ling watched Kai Li struggle with the decision.

  “Would you like one for your family?” he asked.

  “Yes, please,” Mei Ling said. “They should be much relieved to see the face of their new son and grandson.”

  He nodded and held up two fingers to the salesman.

  “Thank you!” she said, joy flooding into her heart, grateful to give her family this not-so-small connection. “And your family?” she asked.

  “There is no one,” Kai Li replied.

  The book said otherwise, but Mei Ling didn’t pry further. Perhaps she had misunderstood.

  CHAPTER 5

  Hong Kong

  March 1923

  Kai Li escorted them back to their room and then left without explanation. Mei Ling didn’t demand he give her an account of his plans, but it was disconcerting. He returned a few hours later with bags of goods, one of which contained a woman’s skirt, blouse, and hat in Western style as well as a boy’s outfit of black knickers and a double-breasted striped shirt.

  “Tomorrow we will go to the United States consulate for travel papers. I hope these will fit,” Kai Li said.

  Mei Ling held up the short dark skirt. It wasn’t nearly so fine as the costume at the photographer’s and had obviously been worn by some other woman. Had this been his first wife’s? If not, where did he get it? Bo didn’t register recognition at the skirt or the white cotton blouse with mother-of-pearl buttons. The clothes were large, perhaps made for a White woman originally, but she could alter them to fit her well enough.

  She gestured to Bo to come close. He balked. Kai Li loudly tsked his disapproval.

  “Was he like this before . . .” She stumbled over the question. “Before his mother died?”

  “I don’t know,” Kai Li replied.

  “Has it been some time since you’ve seen him?” Mei Ling asked.

  “The day I met you was the same day I met him,” he replied.

  Mei Ling’s heart lurched for Kai Li and for Bo. She kept her face composed and only nodded slowly.

  “When did she . . . ?” Mei Ling couldn’t find a respectful end to her question.

  “March 23,” Kai Li said without emotion.

  “Last week? Or last year?”

  “Last week.”

  Mei Ling sucked in her breath. The matchmaker had said his first wife had died recently, but she didn’t realize it had only been a few days. Bo’s reticence and Kai Li’s rush to remarry were more understandable.

  His face grew stony, signaling he was finished answering her questions. “Tomorrow, wear your hair as she did in the picture.”

  And then he left again, leaving Mei Ling alone with Bo. She pulled out the book to get answers. Her husband and Wong Lew She were married in October 1919; the bride was only sixteen years old. Kai Li had returned to California eight weeks after their marriage. Bo had been born months later, long after Kai Li had left China. Mei Ling committed the dates and locations of these events to her memory, aware that her future depended on memorizing these facts. There was so much that she
had to learn . . . and pretend to be.

  When Kai Li returned late in the night, he smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. She felt a measure of sympathy for him, imagining the confusion he felt from the sudden changes in his life, but nevertheless she was repulsed and disturbed by his condition. She pretended to be asleep when the near-stranger climbed into her bed.

  Kai Li was obviously nervous as they prepared for the day. He washed himself carefully and put on the same Western suit and tie that he had worn for the wedding. He nodded his approval when she was dressed with her hair pulled back in a low bun like Wong Lew She’s hair in the picture. Mei Ling felt self-conscious as they stepped outside. This short skirt showed too much of her legs to the world. Even with the stockings that American women were so fond of, she felt overly exposed.

  First they stopped at the photography studio for the photos. They needed the one of Bo for his travel certificate from the US consulate.

  “You look like real Americans,” the photographer exclaimed, impressed by their Western clothing. Kai Li shook his hand rather than bowing when they departed for the consulate.

  Mei Ling hoped she wouldn’t need to speak while they were with the Americans. Her throat was so tight from nerves that she didn’t believe she possibly could. The building on Ice House Street was intimidating from the outside with its columns and arches.

  A young White woman with those strange blue eyes and straw-colored hair sat alone at a desk.

  “--- - ---- ---?” she spoke in English.

  “-- --- ---- -- --- - ---- --- --- ---, Bo,” Kai Li replied. Stunned, Mei Ling stared at her husband. His English was perfect as far as she could tell. The book said he’d moved to the United States when he was sixteen. He must be very intelligent to learn so much in six years. She prayed she would do the same. Many Chinese never mastered English, even after years of living in California.

  The woman looked at her and asked, “--- --- --------- - ---?”

  Mei Ling stared at her in incomprehension.

  “--- ---- ------ ---------,” Kai Li said.

  The woman asked again, “You are traveling too?”

  Shocked at the flawless Cantonese to come out of this White woman’s mouth, Mei Ling only managed to nod in answer.

  The woman smiled at Mei Ling’s surprise.

  “I’ve lived here most of my life,” the woman explained, offering unexpectedly personal information. Likely she was the child of missionaries or an exporter. In Guangzhou, Mei Ling had encountered people like her and had felt pity for them, knowing they didn’t really belong in China. Now she was going to be one of them—a foreigner living in a new land.

  The woman handed Kai Li a piece of paper, saying something to him in English. He walked to the chairs against the wall, sat down, and filled in the paper. She followed him with Bo in tow. She watched the pen move, recognized some of the alphabet, but couldn’t make meaning out of anything he wrote except the numbers, which she’d learned from bank notes.

  After he was finished they waited until a large White man with a red face and those strange light eyes came for them. Mei Ling’s heart pounded hard in her chest as they entered his office.

  She averted her gaze while the two men spoke back and forth in English. The application for Bo sat on the desk between them. Kai Li sounded meek as a mouse. The White man was like a growling dog.

  “---- --- ---- --- ----, Wong Lew She,” the impatient man said, anger in his voice.

  He was speaking to her! Mei Ling startled to attention.

  “I . . .” She was unable to stammer out any more.

  “--- ---- ----- -------,” Kai Li explained to him.

  The man rose suddenly. He left and returned with the perky woman from the front desk.

  “---- --- ---- --- ----,” the man said.

  “When was your son born?” the woman asked kindly.

  Mei Ling froze. She looked at Bo, searching her mind for the answer.

  “Bo?” she asked the woman.

  “He is your son, correct?” the woman asked, then she whispered, “He likes to make people nervous.”

  “In Western dates?” Mei Ling asked, gaining herself some time. Her mind had gone blank; though she’d read his birth date just the night before, she could only remember that he was a Monkey.

  The woman nodded. Slyly, Mei Ling glanced at the paper on the desk; a few dates jumped out at her. She recognized one.

  “August 20, 1920.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a slip of a smile tug up the edge of Kai Li’s lips. The White man nodded. He said something and the woman left again. After a few more questions, the large man filled out an affidavit, attaching Bo’s picture to it and squeezing it between an engraving stamp, and finally signing it with a silver fountain pen. He handed it to Kai Li, and they shook hands before they departed.

  Once outside, Kai Li turned uphill. Mei Ling and Bo followed without question. He walked for ten minutes or so until he came to a lush green garden with a path to a wide stone staircase. Kai Li forged ahead; Mei Ling hesitated, afraid they were unwelcome on these grounds.

  Pausing on the stairs when he realized he was alone, Kai Li explained, “This is a park. We may enter.”

  He continued, and she had no choice but to trail after him. There were so many stairs she had no breath by the time they came to a plateau with a giant fountain that shot water into the air. The liquid fell down to a large basin and then tumbled over the edge into an even larger basin of three interlocking circles. Bo skipped to the edge of the fountain and watched the excitement up close. Mei Ling joined him, going so far as to dip her hand in the cool water. She felt Kai Li’s eyes on her. She turned to look at him. He pointed, and she stood to see what he wanted to show her.

  She gasped at the spectacular view, unlike anything she had ever seen before. Perched high above the land she took in the bustling city and the busy harbor below. Past the harbor, the Pacific Ocean sparkled in the sun as far as she could see. It looked as if it went on forever, past the horizon. It was beautiful and terrifying.

  Four weeks of sailing would bring them to San Francisco, the other side of the world. She was uncertain about being in the midst of the water with no land in sight for so long, but was also exhilarated to imagine how it might feel to be entirely surrounded by so much beauty.

  She smiled at Kai Li, and for once he beamed back fully, not just a hint of a smile. As he looked straight at her with his dark eyes, she could imagine that he was pleased. She’d passed a big test today, not perfectly, but she’d put on the strange costume and found the answer to the question as if she were Kai Li’s real wife and Bo’s actual mother. She looked down at him, her new son. He watched a bird sail by and then turned back to splash in the water.

  “San Francisco has hills and a bay. Perhaps you will enjoy it there too,” Kai Li said.

  Mei Ling felt her heart loosen. In that moment, she believed she might enjoy a life in San Francisco with this man and this boy. Kai Li was being kind, treating her like a genuine wife, not a paper one. She felt a little bit less like a fraud and had the beginnings of hope that they could become a harmonious family.

  In their short time there, Mei Ling had grown fond of Hong Kong. The ocean breeze made everything feel fresh, and the birds were a constant source of entertainment. Eating at restaurants was an enjoyable activity that had been an extremely rare treat in her family, but without a kitchen she and her new family had eaten much of their food out in Hong Kong. Once again she was sorry to be leaving.

  It had only been one week since she first opened the door to the matchmaker, but it felt like months had passed. Mei Ling stared at the two pictures on the small table in front of her, choosing which one to mail to the village before they left China. The faces of her new family stared at her. In one she was foreign; in the other Chinese. Would her family recognize her in these clothes? Mei Ling finally settled on sending the Western picture so her family could see what she hoped to become.

  She fe
lt slightly less self-conscious the second day of wearing the strange skirt in public. Two workers carrying their trunks followed them as they walked to the ship. On the way they stopped at the market for supplies for the long journey. Kai Li assured her there was plenty of food on the boat, but it was not always appetizing. She was glad that he was looking out for them.

  The Persia Maru seemed large from a distance, and it felt unbelievably enormous as they approached it. Mei Ling felt like an ant waiting to join a colony as they stood in a long line to board. Afraid of losing Bo in all the activity, she held his hand tightly. Normally she would bind him to her body, but it didn’t seem fitting in Western clothes. He pulled at her arm, wanting to get to the edge to see the water below. Kai Li picked him up and swung him onto his shoulders, a vantage point that pleased Bo.

  Passengers hung over the railing, watching the activity below. Many kinds of faces peered down. Skin and hair went from light to dark, and the clothing was equally diverse. It was strange to see different kinds of people standing packed close together. In Guangzhou, Mei Ling had seen Americans, Hindoos, Russians, Mohammedans, and Filipinos, but they were each in their own communities and rarely mingled with one other. Once they were off the boat in San Francisco, she expected all these different kinds of people would go their separate ways.

  Her nerves were high as they got closer to the front of the line. A White man in a sailor uniform checked for tickets and identification for all of the passengers. Kai Li said he was confident that she looked enough like Wong Lew She to easily pass, but he seemed equally anxious, so she didn’t believe his words.

  As they inched their way closer to the front, an argument broke out ahead of them. A man yelled in Cantonese at the ticket taker. Mei Ling’s heart sped up at the disturbance. Kai Li swung Bo off of his shoulders and handed him to her.