Dreams of Joy - Lisa See [181]
“I wish we had more time,” I say.
“I wish we did too,” my father says. “Maybe one day we can all be together. Maybe one day you can bring May here and we can meet. Do you think the two of you might like that?”
I nod. I don’t have words for what I feel.
Then, to the cousin, he says, “We need to hurry. The earlier we get to market, the better prices we’ll get.” He gives me a last look before climbing back in his truck. “Continue on that road to the left. Pretty soon you’ll see a bus stop. The bus will take you into Kowloon. Once there, you can take the ferry to the Hong Kong side of the bay.”
WHEN WE REACH downtown Hong Kong, the busyness of the international port, the women dressed in vibrant hues, the white buildings against the emerald green slopes, and even the openness of the sky make everything seem brighter, lighter, freer. We walk up the hill and then along Hollywood Road past little antiques stands, where even now old beautiful-girl posters of May and me flap in the breeze, waiting for tourists to buy them and take them home. The proprietor at the hotel doesn’t recognize me, but she gives us May’s room number anyway. We walk up several flights of stairs, down a dingy corridor, and knock on the door. No one answers.
I knock again and call, “May, it’s me, Pearl.”
Almost as one, our little group steps back as the door opens. But it’s not my sister. It’s Dun.
Ta-ming is the first to react, running forward, squealing “Baba!”—the first time he has said this—and being lifted into Dun’s arms. And then we’re all crowding forward, pushing Dun back into the room, hugging him, patting him, still not believing he’s here. I think I can have no emotion left in me, yet my feelings are so very big, their borders can’t be seen. I put my arms around him and hold tight, never wanting to let go of him again. My eyes brim with tears of joy.
“How?” I’m finally able to ask.
“I had all the papers I needed. I proved who I was. I said I was to go to Hong Kong for family reunification. You want to know what they told me at the border? I was one less person to feed.”
“What about Tao?” Joy asks.
Dun smiles wickedly. “He was angry, but there was nothing he could do.” He turns to Z.G. “It’s a good thing you got out.” Then, to Ta-ming, who is eye to eye with Dun in his arms, he says, “I brought you something. Look.” And there on the table next to the telephone is Ta-ming’s violin. “I brought everything with me, not that we need it now. But I have something you might like, Joy.” He goes to a corner and picks up a cardboard tube. “It’s your painting. They said there was no room for your bourgeois thoughts in China.”
Joy takes the tube from his hands and shakes her head in … disbelief? Wonder? Gratitude?
“Where is May?” I ask.
“She’s at the American Embassy. We’ll all need papers, won’t we? She thought she’d get started on that. She’s pretty amazing, that sister of yours.”
We go back outside to wait for May. Maybe we should have taken showers, because we all look ragged, filthy, like the poorest refugees. She won’t be looking for us dressed as we are, but none of us want to risk missing the reunion. We sit on the hotel steps, chatting, happy. Z.G. can’t see very far, but I can tell he’s anxious.
I’m the first to spot May. She’s walking up the hill, her head down, watching where she steps in her improbably high stilettos. She wears a dress with a full skirt, cinched at the waist with a skinny belt, and a short jacket with three-quarter-length sleeves in matching fabric. A funny round hat sits on top of her head. Her pink-gloved hands carry gaily painted shopping bags.
I stand. The others look up at me and then down the street. They let me go forward first. May glances up and sees me. My sister. I thought I’d never see her again. We hurry toward each other and embrace. There’s so much I want to say, but somehow all I can do is extend my arm toward Joy and the baby as they approach. Is this a reunion with a favorite aunt or a favorite mother? As Joy shows Sam to my sister, I know I don’t have to worry about that kind of