Dreams of Joy - Lisa See [131]
“These are two different things. One is to the countryside—”
“And one is out of the country.”
“What if you meet your sister at the fair in Canton?”
“May suggested that too. She thought she might be able to get a day permit to visit the fair to buy costumes for her movie rental business and canned goods for the café. I don’t think she’d be able to get that kind of permit, but even if she did, I’d still have to get a travel permit. If Superintendent Wu ever gave me one, I’d use it to see Joy.”
“Then try for a one-day exit permit. See what happens.”
“I’d love to see May, and maybe sometime in the future I’ll try to get a one-day exit permit. But not now, not when the baby is due next month.”
We go back to the salon. Then Auntie Hu walks Dun and me to the front door, where she holds us back.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” she says to Dun. “The two of you should try to leave China. I lost my husband and my son, but if they were alive, I’d be telling them we should get out of here.”
It’s strange that she suddenly feels so adamant about this and is pushing so hard when she knows I won’t leave China permanently without Joy.
“You’re the one who should go abroad, Madame Hu,” Dun says.
“Yes, I’ve thought about it, and I’m trying,” she confides in a low voice. “I have a sister in Singapore. I haven’t seen her since she married out more than forty years ago.”
I’m startled by her revelation. “You’ve never mentioned this before. How can you leave?”
“How can I not leave? Your mother was the smart one. She got you and your sister out in time.”
I don’t add that, yes, she did, but she died horribly in the process.
“I started going to the police station and the Foreign Affairs Bureau to apply for an exit permit more than a year ago,” Auntie Hu goes on.
I’m surprised by how much this hurts me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t have anything to tell in the beginning. I didn’t think I had a chance. Some people wait forever to get an exit permit. Others can get a permit to go to Hong Kong for a day very quickly. I thought I’d be in the forever category. Now they say they may give me an exit permit because they’re sure I’ll return. They think I can’t live without servants!” She lets out a wicked cackle. “They don’t know me very well.”
I think they know her better than she knows herself. Auntie Hu has never lived without servants. She has bound feet and is in many ways as isolated as Yong is in Green Dragon Village. She doesn’t know about housecleaning, laying out her own clothes (let alone washing, ironing, or putting them on by herself), cooking (let alone grocery shopping, doing anything beyond boiling water, or scrubbing pots and pans), or working to make ends meet.
“The real reason they’ll let me go,” she continues, “is that they’ve already sucked everything from me except this house. If I ever leave, they’ll take it.” Auntie Hu touches Dun’s arm. “You’ll come back next Sunday, won’t you?” (This, after all her talk about leaving.)
He puts his hands together and bows. It’s old-fashioned, completely out of style these days, but it makes Auntie Hu happy. Even with all the changes, we have to remember our humanity, and it pleases me that Dun is so kind, but I’m subdued on the way home. The city would feel very empty without Auntie Hu, but I tell myself I shouldn’t worry. No matter what she says, she’ll never get an exit permit.
The other boarders still haven’t returned, so Dun opens some plum wine and we take our glasses outside to wait for the fireworks to begin. He sits on the steps, while I putter in the garden. I cut the last roses of the season and I bring them back to the steps, where I sit down next to Dun. In the distance, we hear the celebration. When Dun reaches over and puts a hand on top of mine, I’m not startled or scared. I smile, and my heart thumps in my chest.
“Pearl Chin,” he says, addressing me by my maiden name, “I have known you a long time. When I first moved into your house, I don’t think you saw me, but I saw you. I