A Thread Unbroken (12 page)

In the month since Josi had come back, Mother had let them take over all the housework, cooking, and caring for the children. Chai felt exhausted day in and day out, and she needed a
break. Luckily, Lao Chan had started leaving the small boat tied up to the house in case Mother went into labor and they needed to make a trip to retrieve the midwife. Though many people on the mainland possessed cell phones, the old woman refused to come into the modern century and had to be hunted down when needed.

The first day Chai had seen the sampan there and the men had left for their workday, she had tried to talk Josi into getting in and running away. But Josi had settled her down and made her realize that they needed to form a plan, save some money and food, and then take off when they could make it as far away as possible. The biggest problem was that they didn’t know which direction to go—all they remembered was their village was close to a canal, and that it could be one of hundreds outside the city. It was going to take some research, and so far, they were unable to ask Tao to help get them a map. So now they remained and bided their time, but Chai’s mind was always thinking, strategizing, and planning.

After debating with herself for a few seconds the repercussions if she were gone while Mother unexpectedly went into labor, Chai decided to chance it. She went to the edge and deftly unwound the rope to the sampan. Quietly, she lowered herself in and began rowing toward the island. She’d just take a quick walk and return before Mother awoke. As her oars sliced smoothly through the water, she invented excuses as to why she was leaving her chores, just in case she didn’t return before she was noticed missing. Josi would think her crazy for sneaking off, but she preferred to think of herself as brave.

Minutes later, she reached the community dock leading to the mainland. When her feet touched the ground, the pull toward the structure sitting high on the hill felt magnetic. To her, the
majestic lines of the roof on the gigantic building were more beautiful than anything she had ever seen.

Chai imagined herself living there as a princess, possibly with a court of maidens to wait on her every whim. She would never have to scrub the deck again, or mend another net, or hold another child over the water to urinate. She would be able to do whatever she wanted. She’d be free to read and write, free to learn more about the world.

Daydreaming about her own personal fairy tale, Chai almost lost her footing when a woman dressed in a black robe quickly came around her and hurried up the path.

“
Dui bu qi.
” The woman murmured her apology as Chai stood aside to let her pass.

Chai was dumbfounded and stood staring after the woman with her mouth hanging open.

A foreign ghost
, she thought as she held her breath.

The small, quiet woman wore some sort of black frock with a black headpiece, but wisps of the lightest brown hair Chai had ever seen escaped through the front and hung just over her eyebrows. She was definitely Chinese, but for the brief second they had looked at each other, Chai had seen eyes the color of the deepest water in the channel—a clear turquoise. The woman continued on her way as Chai stared after her, oblivious to the young girl’s amazement at her appearance.

Chai had never seen a Chinese woman with eyes of that color. She wondered if this was one of those ghosts she had heard Mother warning the children about—threatening to take them to her if they misbehaved. This woman didn’t appear to be such a monster, and Chai was encouraged by the kindness in her face.

Chai began to climb again, her eyes searching past the fast-moving woman to the building ahead of her that seemed to defy
imagination. She examined the tall peaks and the large cross perched in the center roof.
It must be at least as tall as a person.
On either side of the cross were towers with stone points placed around the top, the way Chai had always thought a castle would look. The windows were unlike any window she had ever seen, tall and beautiful with arches framed around the casings, and an artistic diamond design at the top of each one. The windows opened out, bringing a cottage feeling to the huge structure. Surrounding the building was a tall wrought-iron fence, but the gate stood open, beckoning Chai to walk through.

This is not the frightening place Tao has claimed
, she thought as she quietly crept around the enclosure.
I feel more at peace here than I’ve felt since I left home.

Chai looked to the side of the building and caught a glimpse of a black garment disappearing around the corner. She quickened her pace and followed the woman, staying back just enough that she wouldn’t be noticed.

The woman opened a side door and disappeared. Chai slowly made her way to the door, hesitated, and then opened it and peeked in.

The sound of chanting startled her, words unintelligible to her ears yet comforting in the hushed tone of many voices in unison. She saw only a long hallway with many doors leading to other unknown areas. Chai took a deep breath and entered the building. Once the door closed behind her, she stood still for a moment, deliberating what to do. She didn’t see where the ghost woman had gone, but her curiosity was roused, and she had to find out more about the chanting. Treading ever so lightly, she crept down the hall toward the biggest door of them all.

C
hai stopped in front of the door, hesitating as she realized that behind it was the source of the chanting that so mesmerized her. She wanted to peek inside to see what was happening, but she was also suddenly afraid of what she might find.

“Qing wen, wo keyi bang ni?”

Chai turned around, startled, only to face the woman who had passed her on the path. She began to shake, unsure even what to do or which direction to run. Before she could decide, the woman smiled and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you lost?”

“Bushi.”

“Well then, are you hungry? Thirsty? I can give you some water.”

Chai hesitated yet again. She really was hungry and even thirsty after her long trek up the mountainside to the building. Yet she didn’t know if it was safe to stay. On the other hand, she felt drawn to continue her exploration.

“Please, let me give you sustenance,” the woman said, beckoning Chai to follow.

Chai found herself following the woman, her eyes glued to the long folds of the woman’s robe swishing back and forth as she walked. They went through a door on the opposite side of the hall and entered a kitchen area. As soon as they walked in, Chai smelled a delicious aroma. She couldn’t quite name the spices; she only knew that her stomach growled in anticipation.

As she trailed behind the woman, she looked around at the large room. The ceiling arched toward a very high peak, with beautiful oak beams accentuating the slopes. The stone floors were washed spotless, and another woman stood at the sink, cleaning a large fish taken from a pile of them on the counter beside her. The other woman wore the same black robe, with the white collar and headpiece. She turned and smiled at Chai, then resumed her work. Chai was relieved that the woman’s eyes were the usual dark brown she was accustomed to.

The woman led Chai to one of several stone tables. “
Zuo xia.
I’ll bring you a small snack and water.”

As requested, Chai slowly sat at the table, running her hands over the glossy wood. She watched the woman go to a cupboard and remove a glass. The woman filled the glass with clean water from a pitcher on the countertop, and then stopped and pulled a small cake from a basket next to it. She brought both over and set them in front of Chai, then took a seat across from her.

Chai simply stared into the strange eyes—too overwhelmed to speak.

“
Nide mingzi shenme?
” the woman asked gently.

Chai didn’t answer for a few seconds, but the woman waited patiently. “Chai,” she finally said, letting out a long sigh.

“Chai? What a beautiful name! You may call me Sister Haihua. What brings you to our humble church?”

Chai wrinkled her brow, putting aside her sudden panic at muttering her real name to the stranger. “Church? What do you mean, church?”

“You don’t know what a church is? Why, this is the house of God. This is where people gather to talk to Him.”

Chai had heard of gods and such but was unsure if the woman meant the same god that her parents or Mother worshipped, or a different kind of god. “What is that chanting I heard?”

“That’s the people saying their prayers.”

“Are you a foreign ghost?”

Sister Haihua threw her head back and laughed—a sound both inviting and musical escaping from her mouth. Chai couldn’t imagine laughing like that, or even feeling that kind of happiness. Before she could wonder how or why, Chai found herself giggling quietly. She felt a lightness she had not experienced in months come over her.

“No, my child. I am not a ghost; I’m quite real and have lived on this island my entire life. I suppose you’re intrigued by my eyes, am I right?”

Chai stared, not saying a word.

“My mother was Chinese, but my father was American. I didn’t know him, but he came to China many years ago and then left before I was born. My mother came to this nunnery to find refuge when her parents found out she was pregnant and disowned her. I grew up here—trailing along behind the sisters, running the halls, and helping to care for the less fortunate. When I grew up, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, so I stayed. It is said my mother named me Haihua because of the color of my eyes, for
hai hua
means
beautiful sea
.”

Chai felt a surge of comfort at the woman’s friendliness, and she picked up the small cake and took a tiny bite. She tasted an unfamiliar sweetness and a look of surprise came over her face.

“It’s called a muffin.” Sister Haihua smiled at her reaction. “It is actually a foreigner’s food, but I’ve found the children of Sandu’ao also like them. I like to experiment with different recipes. My treats bring the children to me, and with them come the rewards of my hard work. They are like sunshine on a day that has weathered many storms.”

“Sandu’ao? Is that the name of this place?”

Chai tried to hide her excitement at the useful nugget of information. She continued to study the woman’s interesting face—Chinese, yet different, with the contours of foreigners she had seen on television. Her skin was a beautiful tone of light brown, making her eyes even more vivid.

“Why yes. You do not know? So tell me, where do you come from? Do you have parents? We have had many children find their way here after becoming orphans.”

Chai decided she had better not trust the woman too much, and she decided to volunteer the least amount of information possible. She hoped that giving her real name would not come back to cause her any trouble.

“
Shi
, I have parents. I live on one of the fishing boats, and today I decided to come to the island to explore.”

Sister Haihua clasped her hands together. “Well, I’m very glad you did. It’s always nice to have a new friend. You live in what we call the plantation on the sea—we don’t see many visitors from there often. Usually your people mostly stay on the water. Does your father farm yellow croakers or prawns?”

Chai ate the remainder of the sweet cake and drank the entire glass of water. She set the cup down and stood to go. She realized time had gone by quickly, and she needed to hurry.

“Um...yellow croakers. Listen, I must get back. I have chores to finish.” She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, hoping that Mother was still sleeping. “Sister, can I take one of your muffins with me?”

Sister Haihua stood. “Of course. I’m so glad you like them.” She wrapped up a muffin in a small piece of paper and handed it to Chai.

“Let me walk you back to the courtyard, then.” Quietly she led the way out of the kitchen and down the long hallway to the door Chai had entered. “Chai, I’d love it if you would come again sometime.”

Chai stuffed the muffin she planned to give Josi down in her pocket and then looked around the courtyard at the few locals wandering about. She hoped none of them knew of her or Lao Chan. If she was found out, she’d receive a memorable beating for sure. She moved her scarf over her head and tied it under her chin.

“Thank you for your kindness, Sister Haihua. I don’t know if I can ever come back, but it was nice to meet you.” She didn’t wait for a reply; instead she quickly ran out through the iron gates and down the footpath.

Chai quickly returned to the sampan, untied it, and climbed in. She frantically rowed back home and climbed aboard. Just as she set both feet on the deck, she heard Mother calling out for
her. Chai sure would be glad when the baby was born—and she expected it to be any day, making her spur-of-the-moment adventure all the more dangerous. Josi would be furious if she was left to deal with Mother in labor all by herself, so Chai hoped all was still well.

“Chai?
Ni zai nali?
My feet have swollen and need rubbing.”

“I am here, Mother. I just finished mending the net. Are you ready for me to help Josi with dinner?”