A Thread Unbroken (22 page)

As she drifted off to sleep, her voice was a whisper in the room, pleading quietly over and over, “
Please find her. Please find her.
”

C
hai sat on the charred remains of her bedding with her arms wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. She’d stayed that way for hours. After they’d pulled Tao from the bay and he had told them about Bo and Josi running away, Lao Chan had slapped her and accused her of somehow being a part of all of it. She was a mess. She was terrified for Josi, her cheek throbbed, and her pride stung because he had thrown her in the shed and locked the door. No one had yet returned to let her out. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn’t read; all their books had been ruined by the smoke and water. So Chai sat and listened to the heavy rain, thinking about the disaster her life had become.

She should have been hungry considering she hadn’t eaten since the day before, but she wasn’t. More than anything, she was sick to her stomach, worried for Josi, and wondering what had happened. She didn’t care what Tao said; she knew that Josi would never run away with Bo. They hated him, constantly talking about how mean he was. They couldn’t wait to find a way to leave the fishing village, especially to avoid the plan of Chai marrying Bo one day. They had both said they’d rather die than become a bride to someone like him.

Chai thought she heard the splash of oars in the water and rushed to the door. She knelt on her hands and knees, peering under the crack.

“I’m going to kill that girl!” She heard Lao Chan’s thunderous voice and felt the structure move beneath her as he climbed from his boat to the deck. She jumped up, scared of what he was going to do.
Who is he talking about? Me? Josi? It has to be one of us.

Chai heard the door slam and Mother’s voice. “Zhongfu! No! Do not touch her again! Chai was with me all night, lying right beside me. She could not have had anything to do with this.”

Chai kept silent, and she saw Mother’s slippered feet under the crack of the door, as if she had put herself between Lao Chan and the shed.

“Dead—he’s dead! Our son is dead!” Lao Chan thundered, and Chai heard buckets and other items being kicked out of his way.

Mother began to wail. “What do you mean, dead? Bo can’t be dead! You heard Tao. He left with Josi!”

Chai heard him say that Bo was found dead and she froze, too shocked to move or speak. If Bo was dead—what did that mean for Josi? She closed her eyes to stop the sudden tears.

“You stupid woman! I told you we couldn’t keep both of these girls. Now the crippled one has killed our son. I have seen it with my own eyes—someone found him floating in the bay only an hour ago. I just saw his body. They have pulled him in and covered him.”

Mother’s wailing increased, then hushed.

“You are a liar. My son is not dead.” Her voice took on a low, deadly tone.

Chai heard the lock being taken from the door. She stepped all the way to the back, crossing her arms over her body for protection. Mother jerked the door open, and Mother and Lao Chan both glared at Chai.

Chai saw the murderous look in Lao Chan’s eyes and tensed, wondering if now was finally the time he’d follow through on his many threats of violence.

Lao Chan stepped forward and grabbed her arm. He yanked her out of the shed and shook her. “What happened? Tell us!” In his anger, spittle flew from his mouth and dripped from his chin. Chai struggled to get free from the excruciating grip of his fingers.

Beside him, shivering under a tattered umbrella, Mother stood crying and shaking her head from side to side as if to say, “No, no, no.”

“I—I don’t know, Lao Chan. Please, tell me. Did you see Josi?” Chai was scared for herself but more terrified that they had also found Josi floating in the bay.

Mother turned to her husband and between sobs asked, “Well? Was the girl there, too?” Mother held her hands around her stomach as if she was suddenly in a lot of pain. Then with unusual bravery, she reached out and slapped at her husband’s hand until he released Chai.

Tao came from the house and stood beside his mother, looking at his father for an answer.

“No. Only our son. And his face—it was beaten.” For the first time, Lao Chan looked weak and defeated as he dropped to his knees and cradled his face in his hands. His loud sobs sent chills down Chai’s spine.

Mother went to him and knelt with him as their smallest sons joined them. She reached up and pulled two handfuls of hair from
her own head, rocking back and forth on her knees as she wailed. At this the little boys were even more terrified, and soon the four of them were all crying. Tao and Chai stood nearby, their expressions as solemn as soldiers’ as they watched the drama unfold.

Chai looked around at the other houses and saw neighbors as far as she could see, standing and staring at their unfolding drama. To the people on the water their sudden tragedies were nothing but a welcome break in the monotony of boring days. If they held any true concern, it was for Bo, the eldest so most revered child of the Chan family. No one even considered Josi. They didn’t know who she was or what she meant to Chai—what she meant to her family. Suddenly too weak to stand herself, Chai dropped to her knees on the deck.

“Oh, where is Josi. Where is she?” She began to cry into her own hands as Tao remained standing silently in front of her. She could feel him above her and knew he didn’t move when she fell. She wanted to strike out at him but somehow controlled herself. Instead of standing there staring at her, she wanted him to hurt like she hurt, cry like she cried, and feel the sense of loss she felt. She didn’t want to be alone in her grief. Most of all she didn’t want to face the truth that she had failed to protect Josi.

R
uju turned to Jun and held out her hand. “Give me eighty yuan for the bus tickets to Xiapu. From there, we’ll have to change buses to get to Sandu’ao. Near Sandu’ao, we’ll climb the mountain to a small village where the woman who maybe had the girls is from.”

Jun looked at Ruju doubtfully, wondering if he was getting scammed. The old woman had proved to be a huge help. After her call to the property owner, she had found out who had rented that apartment, and though he said it had been empty for months, the woman had gotten the man to tell her where the original renter was from.

Luckily for him, the old woman knew of the village and its exact location. She offered her granddaughter’s services—for a small fee, of course—to escort him there to question the woman. Without some connection to the village the people surely would not tell him a thing, so he had felt forced to accept her offer. With the useless help he’d gotten from the police so far, this time, he was going to do the investigating himself. In person, but with Ruju as a mediator.

Ruju let out a long breath of exasperation. “Fine. Don’t give me any money, and I can go back to work rubbing feet. You know I’m only doing this to ease my grandmother’s conscience.” She turned to walk away, indignant at his skeptical expression.

“Deng yi xia.”

Ruju turned back around, crossing her arms impatiently. “I don’t want to wait a minute. What do you want to do?”

Jun dug in his wallet and handed her a hundred-yuan note. It still sounded very expensive to him, but he rarely traveled anywhere, so he wasn’t sure. Ruju walked up to the window and paid for two tickets. The attendant pointed over her shoulder, and Ruju turned. Both Jun and Ruju saw their bus at the same time. It looked like it was on its last leg, but what could he do? This was his best tip so far, and he was going to see it through.

They both sighed, picked up their bags, and climbed aboard the bus.

Jun looked for an empty seat for two, but the bus was already crammed with local people. One old woman, toothless and gray, smiled and patted the spot beside her. Jun walked on, holding his bag to his chest. Ruju slipped in beside the elderly lady and stuffed her bag on the shelf over their heads. She sat down and immediately became engrossed in her fingernails.

A few rows back, Jun found a seat being taken up by one small toddler. He moved in and sat next to the boy, sure that the boy would later disappear to find his mother, leaving Jun the entire seat to himself.

More people squeezed onto the bus, and Jun wondered where all of them were going to sit. A man carrying a bamboo pole with baskets dangling from each end sat opposite his seat and laid the pole and baskets down in the middle of the aisle, making it even more difficult for others to traverse. In his baskets were a variety
of fruits, but he watched over them very carefully to ensure none were plucked out—a tedious chore, considering how many children were wandering around and climbing over the seats.

After an eventful loading of a small goat by one traveler, the driver finally shut the door and declared it was time to go. Jun was relieved when the boy beside him did exactly as he’d expected and ran along to find his mother, leaving Jun a bit of room to stretch out. He leaned his head against the window and stared at the passing scenery. Before he knew it, with his head bumping repetitively against the window, he was fast asleep.

Jun opened his eyes to find Ruju hovering over him, one hand shaking his shoulder. Next to him, an old woman sat, holding a basket of fresh oysters. She had obviously snagged a seat when he had closed his eyes. Jun wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming assault of the fishy aroma on his senses.

“Come on, Lao Jun.
Dao le.
We have arrived in Xiapu.”

“Already?”

“Yes, already. It took almost three hours because of a problem with the gear shifting in the bus. And the roads are bad because it has been raining. You have slept the entire trip.”

Jun stood and shook his head, trying to clear his grogginess. He knew he was tired, but he didn’t think he was
that
exhausted. The atmosphere on the bus was so crowded and noisy that he couldn’t believe he had slept so deeply. He picked his bag up off the floor and held it to his chest again. He shuffled behind Ruju, one painstakingly slow step at a time, behind about fourteen other people, until they were finally off the bus.

Jun waited on a bench near the attendant window of the bus stop while Ruju asked for new tickets to take them to Sandu’ao. She returned to sit beside him. “Lao Jun, there are no bus tickets to Sandu’ao until at least tomorrow because of the weather. We can stay in a local hotel tonight and leave in the morning.”

Jun sighed. He was anxious to get to the village and ask the questions he hoped would lead to his daughter.

“Fine, Ruju. Before we do anything else, let’s go eat some lunch.”

They spotted a small noodle shop on the other side of the street and made their way across the small road. Inside they sat at a table near the window and waited for the server to take their order. The server finally arrived, and they guessed he was also the cook, judging by the spattered and stained white apron he wore around his middle and the sanitary cap over his head.

“
Ni hao.
What do you want to order today?” He pulled a notepad out of his apron pocket and reached for the pencil behind one of his overly large ears.

“What do you have special here?” Jun asked.

“
Yumian.
Fish noodles here are the best around.”

“Okay, fish noodles it is. Two bowls, please.”

The chef-waiter returned shortly with their steaming bowls and ceramic spoons. He set the dishes and spoons on the table and with a flourish of his hand, beckoning for them to start eating.

Jun was hungrier than he had first thought. Around his spoon he twisted the fresh seaweed that floated over his noodles and took a big bite. While he chewed the tasty green vegetable, he searched through his noodles but didn’t find any bits of fish.

The chef waited beside their table. Jun figured he wanted their approval, but then the man spoke.

“Nori seaweed. And you won’t see any fish in that bowl. It is minced and mixed in flour to make noodles,” the chef said proudly and pointed at their bowls, then switched subjects again. “I saw you get off the bus. So, you want to go to Da Jing Ancient Village?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

Ruju laughed. “
Bushi.
We are going to Sandu’ao in the morning, as soon as we can get bus tickets.”

The man frowned. “Da Jing is a much better place to see. You can see the castle there that was built to fight the foul Japanese!” For emphasis, he made an unsettling noise in his throat and spit a large blob onto the floor in front of him. “For a small fee, my friend can show you some of the parts of it that still stand—though most of the stones were taken down and used for local houses.”

Jun smiled uncomfortably; he didn’t want to offend the man by appearing uncaring about their one claim to fame, but they needed to go. Any other time, he would have liked to see a part of ancient history—especially any involved with fighting the Japanese—but right now, he wanted to get to Sandu’ao and information about Chai.

“
Xie xie
, but no. We really need to get to Sandu’ao.”

The man lifted his chin. “Then my friend will take you in his taxi. Only fifty yuan more than the bus. Each.”