A Thread Unbroken (10 page)

“And you need to stop coddling that boy. He thinks I don’t see him whining and carrying on about being a fisherman. He better find his pride for this life, for it will be all he ever knows, and I’m not raising any land-loving wimps.”

“Zhongfu. Do not talk about family matters in front of these girls. Please.”

“Be gone with you, then!” Lao Chan waved his hand at Chai and Josi, causing them to both jump up and run out the door and into their room. They were terrified of Lao Chan and had no doubts that he would follow through on his threats of disposing of them if he was pushed enough.

Behind them, they heard the sarcastic voice of Bo. “I think they’d make good shark bait.”

In their metal room they closed the door and dropped to their pallet.

“House of Chan! Who does he think he is—the leader of China? He can’t do this.” Chai’s chest heaved up and down as she fumed and searched her mind for a solution.

“Chai, it’s decided. There’s nothing we can do.”

“No. Don’t say that. Let me think.”

Josi sat next to Chai, tears still staining her face. They didn’t bother to light the lantern; they were both shell-shocked at the news of their impending separation.

“She said I’d be on a floating home not far from here. Maybe we really can see each other.”

“No, Josi. What if you’re in a dark room? What if you don’t have a light? What if they make you do work too heavy for you to handle? I won’t be there to help you.”

“Chai, I can do it. I don’t want to leave you, but I don’t want us to get in more trouble with Lao Chan. You know Tao said he can be very mean.”

“There has to be a way to stay together.”

“Maybe I should go willingly and then we try to find a way to plan our escape, and we won’t be far away from each other. If you know where I am, you can come get me when the time is right.”

“Josi, I can’t do this without you. We’re nothing but slaves here. I have tried to be strong, but it was only because of you. I can’t do it anymore. I will explode from the frustration without you here.”

“Yes, you can do this, Chai. If you struggle against Lao Chan, he’ll hurt you. We can do this. We’ll both be strong. We’ll work, and at night we’ll stare at the same moon, and it’ll be like we are still together. Now, come on, let’s lie down. You know Mother will have us up at the crack of dawn to care for the boys.”

They lay on their pallet, and Josi wrapped her arms around Chai, comforting her as she cried. They both went to sleep thinking of home—a place that was unfortunately becoming dimmer in their memories as they fought to survive the new life they had been thrown into.

J
un pedaled as fast as he could to the police station, ignoring the pain in his calves from the long ride. At the building, he jumped off the bike and let it fall to the ground unheeded. He ran through the door to find the captain lounged back in his chair snoring, his feet crossed and propped on the top of his dusty desk. On the other side of the small room, another uniformed man sat in a small metal chair, staring up at a tiny television mounted on the wall. He took one look at Jun, then turned back to the loud black box.

“Captain! Wake up!” Jun let the door slam behind him.

The captain startled awake and just about fell out of the chair. When he saw Jun standing there, he straightened himself up and sighed. “Jun. What do you want?”

“I’ve just heard a girl was found yesterday wandering in another village and was brought here. Is it my daughter? Is it Chai?”

“
Ni feng le.
I have no idea what you are talking about, Jun. You have to stop coming here and bothering us. It’s been months; your girl is gone.”

“I am not crazy. And it’s been three months, one week, and two days.” Jun walked over to the desk and picked up the heavy rotary phone. He slammed it down in front of the captain in a rare show of courage.

“Call someone. Your boss. The district office—anyone who will know. This is not a rumor. Find out the details, or I will not leave.”

The captain narrowed his eyes at Jun as he tapped his pen against his scarred desk. “You do know I could have you thrown in jail, right? I can either make you leave, or I can make you wish you had. Which is it you want me to do?” Dropping the pen, he pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit one, inhaling deeply and then releasing the smoke into Jun’s face.

Jun dropped to his knees. “Please. I beg you.
Make
the call. What else can I do to convince you this is not a rumor?” Inside, Jun cringed at the power one small, stinking man could hold over so many because of the tarnished badge pinned to his shirt.

The captain sighed again. The uniformed officer in the corner let out a grunt, a fart, and then rolled his eyes.

“You.
Qu wai mian.
” He pointed at the officer. The man got up and shuffled out. “Now, Jun. I don’t want to arrest you, but I will if you continue to make such a nuisance of yourself. I’ll tell you what—if I make this call, will you agree to stay away for a while? At least for one month?”

“
Dui.
I will not come back for a month.” Jun got up and moved over to the desk, picked up the phone again, and, gently this time, set it closer to the captain.

“Sit down over there; give me some space. I don’t like you breathing down my neck.” He pointed at the shabby yellow plastic chairs across from his desk.

Jun backed up until his legs met the edge of the chair. He lowered himself into it, never taking his eyes from the captain. The captain dialed the phone and put it to his ear. He leaned back in his chair again and put his shoes on the desk, the dusty soles pointed directly at Jun in an outright insult to his face.

“
Wei ni hao.
This is the captain, and I need to know if a girl was found yesterday and brought into the city? Maybe someone who was lost or kidnapped?”

The captain listened at the phone, nodding his head up and down. “
Hao de, hao de.
You are sure?” A pile of ashes dropped from the end of his cigarette onto his desk as he talked.

He kept nodding as he looked up and locked eyes with Jun. He said good-bye and hung up the phone. “You are right. A girl was found walking along Old Shu Road.”

Jun jumped to his feet. “Where is she? Do they know who she is? Was she wearing a jade necklace?” He clasped his hands together to stop them from trembling.

The captain smiled slyly. “They don’t know who she is, but they do know she is only about five years old, maybe less. She has already been taken to the welfare institute.”

Jun dropped back into the chair and put his head in his hands. He didn’t want to show his emotions in front of the captain. He cleared his throat before looking up again.

“My supervisor—he told me it was a girl about the same age with the same looks as Chai. He said he knew for a fact. Are you sure? Can you call someone else?”

“Lao Jun, I’m sure. Now go before I really do have to throw you in jail.”

Jun stood and slowly walked out the door, his shoulders bent. He still had a full day of work to decide if he would tell Wei of
the false alarm or not. Lately she had begun to refuse to talk about Chai—going as far as turning her back and leaving the room when he’d try. He knew she was devastated, and he didn’t know if she could take any more bad news. Adding to the misery of today’s outcome, he wondered if she realized Chai had already turned fourteen while she was gone. He hoped his daughter was able to acknowledge her step into her teen years, wherever she was.

“Oh, Jun?” the captain called from behind him.

He turned around, hope filling his face. The captain was smiling menacingly, his tobacco-stained teeth lined up like crooked headstones in a haunted graveyard.

“You owe me a carton of cigarettes for making the call. Bring them on your next trip in.”

C
hai sat cross-legged on her floor, using a flashlight to read her latest book from Tao. He had also given her the light, because he knew that she had pushed their lantern into Josi’s hands to take with her to her new home. Six long months had gone by since Josi was taken away, and they hadn’t seen or spoken to each other.

Luckily, Tao managed to pass short messages back and forth between them. Those messages were few and far between, but she was indebted to him for finding excuses to take the sampan around the water village so that he could stop by and check on Josi for her. He was able to answer a lot of her questions about how they were treating her friend. Chai had insisted Tao also make her likeness on paper, and he delivered it to Josi with the message that she should pretend Chai was still reading her stories before bed.

Chai turned the page and sighed. She was tired from finishing all the laundry and cleaning for the day, as well as helping with the little boys, but she still couldn’t sleep alone until she literally couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer. Only then could she fall back and finally nod off.

The day they took Josi away had been the worst day of Chai’s life so far. At least during the kidnapping they had relied on each other for support. Now Chai felt so alone, and she was getting headaches from worrying about Josi every day.

When Lao Chan had come for her, Josi had slipped into a still silence, obviously terrified to be separated from her lifelong friend. Chai had wailed and begged and tried to hold on to Josi, but Lao Chan had pushed her aside and shoved Josi into the boat, then used the oars to glide through the water until Chai could no longer see her friend staring over the side of the sampan at her. If Chai had known how to swim, she would have jumped in after her, but instead she had helplessly watched her go, sobbing loudly at the injustice of it all.

That night Chai had refused to come out of her room, not even to cook for the family or eat her own meal. Even when Lao Chan had come and kicked her she hadn’t flinched. She didn’t care if he beat her or even drowned her—she was at her lowest point and couldn’t move. Mother came in for just a moment and clucked her tongue in sympathy and left again. Without Josi, she felt defeated and found herself agonizing about whether her mother and father had moved on with life or if they still even remembered her. She had allowed herself to sink deeper and deeper into a rare moment of self-pity.

Tao had come late that night and found her lying curled on her side, her knees pulled up in a fetal position, her face soaked with tears. Though she was mortified that she had let everyone see her in her weakest moments, she also knew that if it weren’t for Tao, she would have just closed her eyes and died quietly.

He brought her a bowl of hot soup and talked sense into her foggy head. He reminded her that she was the stronger one and Josi was depending on her. Without saying it outright, he implied
that he knew of their eventual plan to escape and that Chai had better shape up or Josi would be lost to her forever. At that, Chai had sat up and begun sipping the broth.

Since then, Tao had made her see the positive parts of their latest ordeal. And she
was
relieved that at least Josi was close and that, unlike her, she was allowed to sleep on the floor of the family rooms. It was nearing the coldest part of the year now, and at least she didn’t have to worry about Josi being left all alone in a darkened metal building. Still, the lantern had come in handy after all, because each night after dinner duties, the girls found a way to send signals to each other with the light of the lantern and flashlight. Tao also made sure Josi didn’t run out of propane, even chancing his father’s wrath if caught stealing from his own family’s barrel to give to the girl. Surprisingly enough, his family had provided Chai with a small heater, and Chai skimped on using it at times so she could be sure Tao had enough kerosene to take to Josi for the lantern.

According to Tao, Josi had gone through a bad few weeks, but she didn’t seem as hopeless now. Using code words, Chai gave Tao messages that would affirm to her best friend that she was still working on a plan to escape. So far she hadn’t thought of much, but Josi needed to believe that Chai would eventually get them home. They knew that to try to leave to travel in the coldest part of the year would be suicide—especially without money.

Tao told her that Josi was being used as nothing more than a slave. With her leg disability and the superstitions the local people had about passing on bad luck through the generations, the people had no intentions of letting her marry into their family. But she was cheap labor and took care of the laundry and cooking, and she helped to care for the one small child in the home.

Chai put down her book and reached for her extra pair of socks from their basket. She was pulling them on over the other socks she wore when she heard a soft knock on her door.

“Come in, Tao.” She didn’t even look up when the boy came in. With Josi gone, the talks with Tao weren’t as anticipated; life was fairly mundane without being able to share it with her friend.

“Chai. I have to talk to you. It’s important.” He sat down across from her.

She sighed heavily. “Tao, you know you shouldn’t come without Josi here. If your father finds out, he’ll have your hide. Especially since your brother thinks he owns me.”

Bo had been making more inappropriate comments and gestures to her. She felt sick remembering how just that evening he had brought his empty glass to her as she stood at the sink. He had stood so close behind her that she could feel his hardness in the small of her back before she jerked away. Now that she was growing taller and filling out quickly, she caught his attention more often. It not only sickened her, but the possessive way he acted could mean danger if he thought Tao was spending time alone with her.

“Something good has happened. Mother is pregnant again. Six months already.”

“I thought she was getting fatter! Eeww...how many children does she want, for goodness’ sake?” She slapped the book shut and rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, Chai. But you’re missing the point.”

“What point? That I’m going to be working even harder now because your mother will refuse to do housework, and soon I’ll have a baby to take care of along with all my other duties?”