Bitter Winds (22 page)

She crept over there, irritation filling every pore. When she turned the corner, she put her hands on her hips and stared down at Mo entwined in the arms of George, all unkempt six feet of him. Ivy was thankful he was wearing pants, but she still looked away from his bare chest.

“Mo. You’re late and you scared me to death! I thought you were caught.”

Mo startled and sat upright, almost as fast as George. “Ivy!”

“Who the hell are you?” George asked, standing to pull his pants higher and tie the drawstring.

“Don’t worry, that’s just my roomie,” Mo said, and laughed nervously. She took one last drag on the cigarette and let it drop to the floor, where she ground her slipper against it to put it out.

“Damn. You told her we were meeting? You’re going to get me fired,” George said. “I’m out of here. You two are on your own. You get caught and I’m saying I don’t know you.”

With that he slipped his feet into the strewn slippers, pulled his shirt on, and stormed out of the room. Mo glared at Ivy.

“Thanks a lot.” She smirked. “But at least I got these.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and held them up just as they both heard the shuffling of plastic slippers coming down the hall.

“He’s coming back,” Ivy said.

Mo turned toward the door. “No, that’s not him. He walks heavier than that.” She put her finger to her lips and beckoned Ivy to follow her. They quietly slipped behind the rolling cart piled high with soiled bed sheets. Ivy winced at the overpowering smell of urine.

The door swung open and a woman came through, softly humming a song. Ivy could see a reflection in the glass door of a dryer and from the same striped clothing she wore, she appeared to be a patient, too. Ivy wasn’t surprised, the staff took any opportunity to get out of their work, even if it meant delegating chores to the patients—the ones who could be trusted.

The woman opened a washing machine and began unloading wet sheets and carrying them to the dryer. For such a small woman, Ivy thought she was exceptionally nimble. She poked the sheets in, still humming, then made another trip for another armload.

“She’s got night-shift laundry duty,” Mo whispered just as the washer that had been running stopped.

Ivy didn’t answer. That the woman had wash duty was obvious and now she might have heard Mo speak. Suddenly, the woman stopped. She cocked her head, listening. Then she looked down and her eyes landed on the ground-out cigarette.

Ivy and Mo didn’t move a muscle. Ivy even held her breath.

But it was too late. The woman turned and came around the bin. Crossing her arms, she glared down at them.

“What are you two doing here? And what idiot has been smoking around these hot dryers?” she demanded. Even with her hair wild around her face and standing in baggy patient garb, she looked completely lucid—and angry.

Mo stood and Ivy slowly joined her. She reached up and quickly pulled the sunglasses down over her eyes. She’d only just remembered she was supposed to be blind. She had a good mind to pretend to be mute as well.

“Um . . . we—um—were lost. But we weren’t smoking,” Mo stammered, and swayed from one foot to the other.

For once Ivy saw Mo as an equal. She was no longer the fearless leader she’d made Ivy think she was. They were in a lot of trouble and Mo knew it.

“Lost? How did you get out of your rooms? I’ve been doing wash here every night for at least a decade and I’ve never seen either one of you.” The woman blew the hair out of her eyes, then reached up and pushed it farther. More of her face showed, causing Ivy to intake a sharp breath.

That face. It was so familiar. But it couldn’t be.
Could it?
Something like ice water entered the tips of her fingers and tingled up her arms to her neck. She stood there, shaking her head in disbelief.

Mo turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

The woman squinted at Ivy, then reached over and plucked the sunglasses right off her face. Ivy reached for them but she was too late; the woman held them over her head. Then she leaned in and studied Ivy even closer.

“Lai Song?” the woman said, her face incredulous. “Is it really you?”

“What? Who is Lai Song?” Mo asked, looking from Ivy back to the woman.

Ivy sighed.

“Lai Song is my sister. I am Lai Sun. And that—that lunatic”—she pointed at the woman—“is the woman who gave birth to us.”

Ivy felt a wave of dizziness, as if the very earth shifted beneath her feet. After so many years how was it possible to be facing her own
mother—the woman who tried to take her sister out of this world?

The woman’s face broke into a huge smile and Ivy stepped back, narrowly avoiding the thin arms that reached for her. The outstretched arms held for a second, then dropped to her sides. “Lai Sun, my
nuer,
I’ve tried to find you for years. I can’t believe it, you’re here!”

Ivy swallowed and clenched her shaking hands into tight fists. She would not let
her mother
see how her appearance had affected her. That face—that same face Ivy had woken up to see twisted into a determined grimace the night of the fire.

“Don’t pretend with me. You didn’t want us. I saw you that night,” Ivy said stiffly.

The woman visibly flinched. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but I wasn’t responsible for that fire. Since that night I’ve appealed to the social welfare department repeatedly with letters asking for your whereabouts.”

“You weren’t responsible? You’re such a liar. I may have been just a little girl, but I saw you with the oil—and the matches,” Ivy said, her voice raised a few notches to match her long-bottled anger.

“Shh . . . ,” Mo hissed at them. “You two are going to draw the floor supervisor’s attention. Quiet down. Ivy, could you be wrong? You were really young, right? Maybe you’ve forgotten.”

Ivy would never forget. Her mother had carried her out of her room in her sleep, separated her from Lily by laying her on the couch. She hadn’t known Ivy had opened her eyes to see her in the doorway of their bedroom, then a loud
whoosh . . .
and it was ablaze.

“I know what I saw,” Ivy said, glaring at her mother.

“No, Lai Sun, you are wrong. You were having a bad dream. And please tell me, why are you here—in this horrible place? And where is your sister?”

From her memories Ivy could almost smell the smoke and even feel the heat of the fire against her skin again. She took a step toward the woman. “Don’t call me that name. I’m not that girl anymore. But was I having a bad dream when I ran toward the room and you blocked me with your body? When I kicked and screamed until Lily woke up? Was it all a nightmare when I got around you and pulled my sister out of a burning room? I don’t think so,
mufu
.”

The woman backed up until she was against the wall, then slid down it to the floor. She covered her face and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do it. It was your father! He called her
the blind one
and said he wouldn’t come back unless I got rid of her. He thought she was a curse on our family. It was for us,
Nuer
. I did it for you, so you could have a better life—a life without your sister around your ankle like an anchor.”

Ivy felt a rush of rage. “Don’t even say that to me. Taking Lily from me would’ve been the worst thing anyone has ever done. Don’t you understand anything about twins? About sisters? Her blindness means nothing to me. She’s just Lily! She’s my sister!”

From behind her hands the woman sobbed. “I’ve paid my penance. I haven’t seen the light of day or breathed fresh air since that night. This has been my punishment, to let them believe I am mentally ill, rather than face the truth that a sane person—
a mother, even
—would do such a thing.”

Ivy stepped back. “I almost do feel sorry for you. You’ve missed out on raising two daughters, and one of them is an accomplished violinist and even an aspiring chef. Look at the talent you walked away from.”

Her mother lowered her hands. “I’ve wondered about you for years,
Nuer
. You can play an instrument? And cook?”

Ivy glared at her. “No, I can’t. But Lily can. You know,
the blind one
? The one you and your husband wanted to be rid of? Yes,
she
is the better half of us.”

“Does Lai Song know?” the woman asked, her eyes hopeful.

Ivy sighed. She knew what the woman was asking, and she felt like lying and telling her Lily
did
know her own mother tried to murder her. But what good would it do now? The truth was that Lily didn’t remember much about their mother, and both of them remembered even less about their father, other than his constant stomping about and clear dislike for them.

“No, she doesn’t know. She thinks it was an accident. She believes we were taken from you because the house was too damaged to live in and you had no means to keep us together. Unlike you—
and my so-called father
—I care what burdens she has to carry. It’s hard enough to be blind but does she really need to know her own parents wanted her dead because of it?”

The woman put her hand to her heart and gasped.

“Don’t you dare act like the victim here,” Ivy said. She felt the rage surge through her veins. She just couldn’t take that—of all they’d been through, and what this woman had tried to do to Ivy so long ago, she’d better not insinuate she was the one to be pitied.

At that the woman looked over Ivy’s shoulder. Mo followed her gaze and gasped. Standing there, his chin propped on a push broom, was the orderly, Cho.

“So what do we have here?” he asked, his eyes flashing. “I think we got us some trouble brewing.”

L
ily took a deep breath and stepped out of the house. Everyone else was busy and she’d slipped away after telling Nai Nai she was going to lie down for a short nap. Since she’d come home they’d been treating her like she was an invalid—as if without Ivy she couldn’t manage anything. Only Li Jin understood that though she felt lost without her sister, she could still do everything she’d done with her there.

Today she’d prove it. She planned to make her own way to Linnea’s store.

The night before she’d sat up again for hours as everyone else slept, just thinking of how to get Ivy home. Something had changed and she felt in her heart that her sister was in danger. Call it twintuition, or just a sixth sense, but something was wrong. With the heavy feeling upon her, Lily had panicked, wondering if her sister was sick or in trouble. Something was different and she just hoped Ivy was okay.

As she’d stroked the neck of her violin, she’d suddenly remembered the grand opening at Linnea’s store a year ago when one persistent customer had slipped his number into her hand and told her if she ever decided to sell the instrument, he was interested. Lily had poked it down into the lining of her case, and luckily it was still there. Now the paper was in her pocket. Linnea would help her either find a buyer or call the man to see if he was still interested—she’d understand Lily had to do something to get Ivy back.

After she’d made a plan, she’d spent the hour before drifting off to sleep going over and over the route to the store in her mind. She and Ivy had gone many times together, and Lily had each step of the way memorized. But she wasn’t naive—she knew traversing it alone would be much different, as well as scary the first time.

Now at the sidewalk, she paused and took a deep breath.
She could do this
. Rule one, clear an area and step into it. That was the first thing she’d learned when the tutor came to teach her how to walk with assistance. The woman had barked at her each time she’d forgotten to use her cane. “If body in motion, cane is in rhythm!”

It had taken a few weeks but Lily had learned to use it. She still didn’t like it—but in some cases agreed it was necessary. Now she swung the stick wide back and forth, feeling for obstacles or step-offs. It was her first time off their property alone except for the short walk from the taxi to the door when she’d come home from the hospital, and the sweat dribbling between her shoulder blades proved her nerves would take some adjusting.

She knew by the sounds of the horns and the whishing of cars that she was getting closer to the intersection. A man called out to her, asking if she wanted to ride in his pedicab. She shook her head and kept going.

As her grip on her cane tightened, she reminded herself she’d crossed the same juncture many times before, with the only difference being she’d had Ivy to tell her when to go. So just like she’d done with her sister, she quickly sidled up behind the waiting crowd and when she felt them surge as a whole, she went with them.

Her first step into the street was terrifying. Her worry was she’d be in the back of the cluster, but soon she felt others on her footsteps and breathed a sigh of relief. Ironic, but in the crowd she felt protected from any wayward vehicles.

“You’re walking crooked,” a male voice said from beside her.

Lily wished he’d tell her to straighten to the left or straighten to the right, but her pride wouldn’t let her ask. Instead she went with her gut and adjusted. When she didn’t bump anyone, she figured she was back on track.

“Step up,” he said when they reached the other side.

“I got it.
Xie xie.
” She thanked him impatiently and moved ahead, feeling for the curb with her cane, then stepping up.
She didn’t need someone telling her what to do.
That was why at almost seventeen, she was now out for the first time on her own. Today was a new beginning of independence and she wanted to do it herself. She walked faster to put distance between herself and the helpful stranger.

She followed the sidewalk, pausing right before she approached what she remembered as a low spot. She felt for it and smiled when her cane hit it exactly where she remembered it. All of a sudden, she felt a burst of confidence. She was prepared for this! She knew halfway down this block she’d pass a woman selling steamed turnips, a fruit stand where an old dog always lay in the middle of the walkway, and a series of overcrowded bicycle stands she’d need to be careful of. That would bring her to the bus stop. She’d climb aboard, just like she’d done a hundred times before with Ivy. Then she’d have a few minutes to catch her breath before she had to tackle disembarking the bus and traversing to the shop street to find Vintage Muse.

As she picked up her pace she heard a woman in heels rapidly come up behind her and then pass her. She didn’t care. It was fine. She walked slower than some and faster than others. Just like everyone else did! She brought her cane in a little closer, hoping she wouldn’t trip someone up with it.

“Do you know where you’re going?” The question came from the same male voice she’d heard earlier.

Her moment of giddiness was gone as she realized he’d been behind her for quite a ways and she hadn’t even picked up that someone was keeping pace with her. She’d heard walking all around her, but she hadn’t recognized it as him.

Lily could feel he was tall, and he moved easily, making her think he was thin and wiry. She stopped abruptly and felt just a touch of him before he caught himself and moved back a step to keep from colliding into her. “Yes, I actually do know where I’m going. Do you?”

He chuckled. “You’re blind, right?”

Lily couldn’t help the sarcasm, though she flinched as the words came out nastier than she’d planned. “No. I just like to wander around with a white cane so I can draw attention from strangers like you.”

His chuckling stopped. “That’s fair. I’ve just never seen a blind person walking around alone before. You caught my attention.”

He sounded apologetic and Lily felt bad for her attitude. It was just that she’d been warned of strangers and how easy it was to get into a bad situation. She’d begun to distrust anyone who wasn’t in her family, and she knew that was no way to be.

“Look, I’m sorry. To be honest, this is my first outing without my sister. It’s a bit daunting and I’m trying my best to appear confident.” She cringed again. If Ivy were there, she’d tell her she shouldn’t be so open with her thoughts.
But Ivy wasn’t here, was she?
She started walking again.

“Sounds like we have something in common. . . . I strive to look confident every day.”

He was making a joke. She could hear it in his voice. She could also feel him move up beside her. He wasn’t giving up and she felt a bit uneasy. What did he want with her? As she hesitated, a pack of young boys passed by. One of them hurled an insult at her and told her to get off the sidewalk if she couldn’t see. She felt a moment of insecurity as their voices moved away.

“Seriously, you’re doing great. Don’t listen to them,” he said. “If I were blind, I’d be falling on my face right now.”

Lily sighed and kept walking. “Thanks.” Her cane bumped up against something hard, at least as big as a brick, but it sounded as if it were wrapped in a bag.

“Whoa! Watch out, don’t step on that,” the stranger said, and Lily felt him cross in front of her and bend to pick up the item.

She carefully stepped around him as she heard plastic rumpling.

“What was it?” Her curiosity got the better of her as she continued on.

The guy caught up with her and was fumbling with something. Lily tried to concentrate on her path, but he was very distracting.

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

Lily smelled something putrid and heard him making smacking sounds.

“It was food! You found food on the ground and ate it?” Her stomach turned. “That’s really gross.”

The guy continued to keep step with her, but he didn’t answer.

Immediately she felt heat fill her cheeks. There was only one reason someone would eat food left as trash—he had to be very
hungry. He was a street person, a beggar, or someone really down on his luck. She was so embarrassed for calling him out on it.

She walked faster. It was time to put some distance between them. “It was nice talking to you.”

Finally she arrived at the next corner where she and Ivy always waited for the bus. She wished again for her watch, but the hospital had kept it. She moved slowly until she felt her cane touch the back of someone’s foot. She knew it by the way they moved it immediately.

“Is this the line?” she asked politely. She didn’t know why she bothered; as far as she knew today was like any other and no one would queue up. They’d stand in a group, then all try to cram on the bus at the same time, and she’d hold back and hope there was still a seat for her when she boarded last. But she knew most likely she’d be left standing in the aisle.

Someone ahead of her grunted and she stood quietly and waited. She listened to the chatter around her. A few people discussed an accident that had happened on their way on another street. A man a few feet from her talked quickly on the phone, obvious by the one-sided conversation he was having as he bellowed instructions to someone on the other end. Lily smiled grimly when she heard the rustle of a newspaper and a mother telling her toddler to squat over it to do his business.

Usually she and Ivy would listen to those around them and send silent messages to each other with a bump of the elbow or some other nonchalant gesture. Today the antics of strangers weren’t so funny without Ivy to share them with.

Finally she heard the familiar braking of the bus and the crowd surged forward. As she shuffled toward the bus door, Lily held her cane close to her to keep it from being broken or torn from her hands. She breathed through her mouth, filtering out the smell of sweat and perfume as people closed in on her, invading her personal space. Again, she missed Ivy and the way she’d always shielded her from too much contact.

She didn’t know she was as close as she was until her shin banged into the first step of the bus. Biting back a yelp of pain, she stepped up and grabbed the handrail. Two more steps and she knew she was in the aisle. She listened, but now nothing would tell her if there was an empty seat, other than touch. She knew from experience some people didn’t like to be touched, so she was wary.

She passed the first few seats and could tell just by the rustling and settling in that they were full. At the third set of seats she carefully put her cane where the feet would be. Nothing. She’d found an empty seat! She pushed it a little farther to be sure and felt feet.

“There’s still room on this seat.”

It was him. The one she’d humiliated. He’d somehow gotten ahead of her and boarded the bus.

And he’d saved her a seat.

Lily thought about moving on but what if there wasn’t another spot open? She was exhausted from the challenge of getting this far—her shaky legs screamed at her to take the seat. So she took a deep breath and did the exact opposite of what Ivy would do.

She sat down.