Fortune Is a Woman - Elizabeth Adler [98]
“I wandered away, walking all day along the slippery granite-paved streets until my feet hurt. Every now and again I stopped someone and asked if they knew where the girls were being sold, but they just looked strangely at me and hurried by. Night fell and I was alone in the big terrifying city, hungry, penniless, desperate. Exhausted, I crouched in a dark corner of an alley and tears slid from my closed eyes. I knew I would never see Mayling again.
“Several days passed. I wandered the city begging for my food, grateful for every small morsel grudgingly given to me. I lurked like a hungry ghost on the edges of real life, haunting the teahouses longingly, listening to the talk of how hard life was in China and how rich the men were who had gone to work at the Gold Mountain in America. They said the men in America dug for gold and silver, they said they built railroads and opened their own businesses, that they lived like kings out there and still had enough left over to send home precious money to support their aged parents, their wives and children. ‘The men of Toishan are becoming rich,’ they muttered enviously as they savored fragrant pork dumplings and bean curd and all the delicious dim sum I could only long for. Riches to me meant food in my belly and a bedmat, but I thought about what they had said. I had lost Mayling, I had no family. Why should I not join the rich men of Toishan in America?
“I made my way back to the docks and by careful inquiry I found a ship that was leaving the next day for Seattle. It was a small, scabby-looking steam vessel and the villainous-looking crew leaning on the rails, spitting into the water and smoking, were dirty and unkempt. But it was the only ship leaving immediately for the Gold Mountain and I was determined to be on it. I marched boldly up the gangplank and asked to be taken on as a cabinboy. They laughed at me and showed me to the captain, a fat, bearded American in a grimy white naval uniform ornamented with much gold braid. He had on a peaked white cap with more gold and held a bottle of whiskey in his hand from which he took frequent gulps. He laughed as uproariously as the others when I nervously told him I wanted to join the ship.
“‘Sure, son,’ he said, his fat belly shaking with laughter. ‘One more won’t make any difference. But you’ll work hard for your keep.’ Wages were never mentioned, but all I wanted was to keep from starving, and when I got to America I would work and earn money like the men from Toishan, in the Gold Mountain.
“The ship sailed on the dawn tide and as I scrambled about helping to coil ropes, I looked back at China disappearing on the horizon and I knelt on the splintery wooden deck and kowtowed, touching my head nine times to the floor in respectful memory of my mother, Lilin, and my sister, Mayling. And then I turned my face toward the open sea and America.”
The fire had settled into a red glow, illuminating Francie and Annie’s shocked faces, as Lai Tsin said with a sigh, “What happened next is another story.”
He rose to his feet and bowed politely to them. “And now Lai Tsin begs your understanding, he is tired and must seek sleep. But before I go I wish to thank you for the gift of your friendship. I have never spent a night like this, in the warmth of a true home. Nor have I felt love and understanding from others. Tonight my life has been enriched by both emotions and I am grateful for your kindness.”
Their eyes followed him as he bowed again and walked from the room, and they sat silently for a long time, each lost in her own thoughts. “I imagined my own life was hard and unfair,” Annie said quietly at