Shanghai Girls (Shanghai Girls #1)(113)

“What you gonna do to them?”

“Don’t worry about that. Only worry about yourself.”

“And you give me papers?”

“You’ll get legal citizenship, like I said,” Billings says. “But if you don’t confess, then we’ll have to deport you back to China. Don’t you and your wife want to stay with your daughter, so you can keep her out of trouble?”

Joy’s shoulders pull back in surprise as she hears this.

“She may be an A student, but she goes to the University of Chicago,” Billings goes on. “Everyone knows that’s a den of Communism. Do you know the kind of people she’s been seeing? Do you know what she’s been doing? She’s a member of the Chinese Students Democratic Christian Association.”

“That’s a Christian group,” I say, but when I glance at my daughter, a shadow crosses her face.

“They say they’re Christian, Mrs. Louie, but it’s a Communist front. Your daughter’s connection to that group is why we looked into your husband’s case in the first place. She’s been picketing and getting people to sign petitions. If you help us, we can overlook these infractions. She was born here, and she’s just a kid.” He looks over at Joy, who weeps in the middle of our living room. “She probably didn’t know what she was doing, but if the two of you are sent back to China, how will you help her? Do you want to ruin her life too?”

Billings nods to Sanders, who stands. “We’re going to leave you now, Mr. Louie, but we can’t let these discussions go on much longer. Either you tell us what we want to know or we’re going to take a closer look at your kid. Understand?”

After they leave, Joy runs to her father’s chair, sinks beside it, and sobs in his lap. “Why are they doing this to us? Why? Why?”

I kneel next to my daughter, put my arms around her, and search Sam’s face, looking for the hope and strength he’s always carried there.

“I left home to earn a living,” Sam says, his voice far away, his eyes peering into the darkness of despair. “I came to America to make a chance for myself. I did the best I could—”

“Of course you did.”

He looks at me in resignation. “I don’t want to be deported back to China,” he says hopelessly.

“You won’t have to go back.” I put a hand on his arm. “But if it comes to that, I’ll go with you.”

His eyes shift to mine. “You’re a good woman, but what about Joy?”

“I’ll go with you too, Daddy. I know all about China, and I’m not afraid.”

As we huddle together, something Z.G. said long ago comes into my mind. I remember him talking about ai kuo, the love for your country, and ai jen, the emotion you feel for the person you love. Sam fought fate and left China, and even after everything that’s happened he hasn’t stopped believing in America, but he loves Joy above all else.

“I okay,” he says in English, patting his daughter’s head. Then he switches back to his native Sze Yup. “You two go see about Uncle Vern. Hear him in there? He needs help. He’s scared.”

Joy and I stand up. I wipe my daughter’s tears. As Joy starts for Vern’s bedroom, Sam grabs my hand. One of his fingers loops up and through my jade bracelet, holding me in place, showing me how much he loves me. “Don’t worry, Zhen Long,” he says. When he releases me, he stares at his hand for a second, rubbing his daughter’s tears between his fingers.

Vern is terribly upset when I get to his room. He mumbles incoherently about Mao’s Let a Hundred Flowers Bloom and how the Chairman’s now condemning to death everyone he encouraged to criticize the government. Vern’s so confused he can’t separate that from what he overheard in our living room. As he rambles and rails—and he’s so distressed that he’s messed his diaper and every time he squirms or pounds his fists on the bed, a disgusting odor fills my nostrils—I wish my sister were here. I wish for maybe the ten thousandth time that she would take care of her husband. It takes Joy and me a long time to calm Vern and get him cleaned. When we leave the room, Sam’s gone.

“We need to talk about this group you’re a member of,” I say to Joy “but let’s wait until your father returns.”

She doesn’t defer to me or apologize. She says with the absolute certainty of youth and being raised in America, “We’re all citizens, and it’s a free country. They can’t do anything to us.”

I sigh. “Later. We’ll do this later with your father.”

I head to my bedroom bathroom to get the smell of Vern off me. I wash my hands and my face in the basin, and when I lift my head I see in the mirror’s reflection over my shoulder into the closet…

“Sam!” I scream.

I run to the closet, where Sam hangs. I put my arms around his swaying legs and lift them to take the weight off his neck. Everything turns black before my eyes, my heart scatters like light dust, and my ears buzz with my horrified screams.





The Boundless Human Ocean





I DON’T LET go of Sam until Joy gets a stool and a knife and cuts him down. I don’t leave his side when the people come and take him to the funeral parlor. I give Sam’s body as much care as possible, touching him with all the love and tenderness I couldn’t show him when he was alive. Then May picks me up from the funeral parlor and takes me home. In the car, she says, “You and Sam were like a pair of mandarin ducks, always together. Like a pair of chopsticks, evenly matched, always in harmony.” I thank her for the traditional words, but they don’t help me.