The Scavenger's Daughters (Tales of the Scavenger's Daughters, Book One) (16 page)

Linnea had warmed up to him after he’d spent a few of his valuable coins to buy her a corncob on a stick. She’d stopped crying long enough to gulp it down and hand over a cob that was clean as a whistle. With that hungry look still in her eyes, he’d bought her another. Then he’d bought her a cup of yogurt milk as they’d walked the half mile to the police station to register her as a foundling. He was ashamed to remember that he had debated taking in another child. Money was as tight as the living space he shared with the other foster daughters he already had. They’d told him he could leave her there and they’d process her, but at those words she had clutched his leg and Benfu had been unable to leave her behind.

Thank goodness for that. Now all these years later he couldn’t stop looking at her—a beautiful and headstrong young woman bent on paving her own road to success.

Benfu was jolted back to the present by the smell of searing ginger that wafted up his nose and made his stomach growl. It had been months since they’d had anything as expensive as pork to eat. With the delicious smells floating through the house, he knew they’d have a memorable day.

He smiled at Jasmine, Peony, Ivy, and Lily as they stood around the small table, pinching the tiny squares of dough together over bits of minced pork to make dumplings. He’d wait until they finished before sneaking over to slip a lucky coin in one. He was moving slower than usual today after a sleepless night of waking up with the sweats and coughing. Though they hadn’t complained, he knew he’d been a hindrance to all of them, keeping them up with his tossing and turning. But instead of being upset, they’d spent the day refusing to let him do anything but rest.

Benfu inhaled deeply to enjoy the spicy aroma of the pork and it set off a coughing fit. Jasmine ran over and stood in front of him, patting his leg as he struggled to get his breath. His coughing disturbed little Poppy and she fidgeted. Jasmine stared at him with big eyes as he reached over and gently rocked the cradle to lull the infant back to sleep.

“I’m okay, little one. Go back to work.” At that she ran back to the table and picked up another piece of dough.

Calli stood at the counter, cutting the pork into small cubes as she gave directions to Linnea for her dish she was making with the wok.

“Now just get a good coating of oil on the ginger and then add the sugar. Don’t do it too early or you’ll ruin it,” she calmly told the girl.

Benfu could see the impatience in the bend of Linnea’s shoulders. She didn’t like to wait for anything. He always compared her to a pot of dumplings constantly on simmer; one had to watch it carefully or it would boil over.

“When do we add the pork?” his daughter asked.

“After the sugar dissolves,” Calli softly answered. “Then we’ll add the soy sauce, cinnamon, and wine last, then our braised pork dish will be complete.”

Benfu cleared his throat. “I can’t wait to get a taste of that. The smell reminds me of years ago. Did you girls know that same dish was a favorite of Mao’s during the Cultural Revolution?”

That got their attention; he chuckled and began rocking back and forth. His girls loved to hear about the revolution and the ways the poor people had to step up and teach the exiled rich families how to survive on almost nothing. Those days were definitely a time of extreme role reversal in the country. Benfu had lots of stories—though some were too sad or terrifying to share with his daughters.

Linnea turned to him. “Why was this dish his favorite?”

Benfu smiled. He knew one of them would ask. “Because the pork shoulder usually has a lot of fat, which Mao considered an element crucial to boosting brainpower. His chef recounted later that Mao made him cook the dish before every battle or political meeting so that he could ready his wits for quick thinking and making smart decisions.”

“People in the Hunan province still consider the pork shoulder the best brain food,” Calli added.

Maggi piped in from her spot on the bench. “Thank you, Linnea, for bringing home food to make all of us smarter!”

Calli had given Maggi her scarf and needles to keep her busy and told her she expected at least a few inches completed before dinner. Benfu knew that more than likely, his wife would have to pull the stitches out and start anew, but he loved her for always finding something to keep the little one engaged. Maggi was just learning how to knit and had already shown a love for it and with her inability to move around, knitting was proving to be a great diversion to boredom. She still needed more practice, as it was difficult for her tiny hands to maneuver the needles quickly. Maggi always wanted to be doing something, and Benfu refused to allow her to peel bottle labels or iron papers on such a big day.

Benfu heard a bell outside and turned to look out the window. He saw the pedicab stop in front of the gate and out stepped the young man Linnea had told them about.

“It’s Jet!” Linnea cried out, leaving the wok and smoothing the loose pieces of her hair back. She looked in the mirror over the kitchen sink and grimaced. “Go meet him, Ye Ye. I don’t want to look like I was waiting.”

Linnea’s cheeks reddened and she appeared so flustered that Benfu had to chuckle. With her quick blush she reminded him of Calli in the early days. The girls around the table began teasing Linnea and Benfu almost felt sorry for her. They were as excited to meet the young man as Benfu was, but they knew not to come out and that their Ye Ye would be first to meet the visitor. Over their heads he met Calli’s eyes. She gave him a knowing smile and nodded. He wondered if like him, she was remembering that feeling of anticipation they had shared the day he’d met her parents so long ago—the day she’d finally stopped hiding him in their shed and decided to bring him in and plead for him to stay. Lucky for him her parents were just as compassionate as their daughter. It was their kindness that had given him a new beginning.

Benfu stood and went to the door and opened it. Outside he met the eyes of a tall young man following behind a pedicab loaded with a couple pails of fruit and vegetables, and a box. The boy held his hand up and waved. Benfu walked out, shutting the door behind him. They approached the courtyard gate at the same time. The pedicab driver stopped and waited to be told where to unload the goods.

“Nice to meet you, Lao Zheng.
Gong xi fa ca!
” The boy came and reached over the low gate, extending his hand as he kept his eyes to the ground out of respect. Benfu was glad to see him use traditional manners.

“Nice to meet you, and wishing prosperity back to you. So you’re the famous Jet we’ve been hearing about? Please, welcome to my home.” Benfu opened the gate, and the driver of the pedicab hopped off and quickly set the boxes and pails inside the courtyard.

“What is all this?” Benfu looked down at the supplies.

Jet wrung his hands, eyes still downcast. “Lao Zheng, I’m not worthy to join your family on this special day. Please accept my gifts of gratitude.”

Benfu hesitated at the stylish picture the boy presented of himself, then clapped the young man on the shoulder. “According to the praises my
daughter has been singing, you are worthy. Come meet the girls. I believe at least one of them is very excited you are here.”

Jet looked up and finally made eye contact. Benfu could see there that despite the trappings of wealth the boy’s clothes and shoes showed, he also offered evidence of honesty and kindness.

“Can I take your daughters the gifts I brought as I meet them?” Jet asked, looking around Benfu at the box.

“
Dui,
your gifts will be deeply appreciated.” Benfu swallowed hard. Besides the food situation, this was also the first spring festival he had been unable to scrape up enough money for gifts for his girls. Linnea had come through for the meal and the gods had been good to him, instead sending someone to deliver the gifts in his place. He would take this as a moment to be thankful and not allow the damper of disappointment in. He would get to know this young man and decide if he was worthy to court Linnea, and try to get to the reason why a person so obviously from such a different class would be interested in only a poor scavenger’s daughter.

Linnea watched her Ye Ye carry in the biggest pail of fruit while Jet followed him, carrying the box. Her sisters sat quietly for once, waiting to meet their big sister’s new beau. Linnea had warned them not to say anything to embarrass her, but she was still so nervous her hands were clammy with sweat. She’d promised Ivy an extra share of dumplings from her plate just to get her to swear to keep her mouth shut. That girl was always doing something to make everyone laugh and Linnea didn’t want it to be at her expense today of all days.

“Jet!
Ni hao,
” Linnea called out, coming to meet them. She wished the courtyard had more decorations—flowers, grass, or anything to brighten up the barren dirt square. Other than a few piles of trash left to sort through, it was embarrassingly empty. She’d never voice her complaints as she knew it was a sore spot for her Nai Nai. Decades ago Mao had issued instructions that
all grass and flowers be pulled up, that such extravagances were bourgeois habits and should be replaced with cabbage and cotton, even if it wasn’t the correct type of soil to grow such things. To have grass or flowers was a sure sign of being counter–revolutionary and could bring an onslaught of violence against the family. Nai Nai’s parents had made her pull the grass out by the roots, an endeavor that was extremely hard because of the deep, intertwining roots that crisscrossed the courtyard. Since her family eventually lost everything they owned except the house, they were never able to afford to return the courtyard to its original glory. It remained stark as did most of the others in the
hutong
and even the neighborhoods outside of it. There had never been any extra funds for frivolous things like flowers or grass seed.

Linnea tried to ignore her embarrassment as she gestured toward the pail her Ye Ye carried. It overflowed with mandarin oranges, pomelos, and plums. “And so much fruit. Thank you.” She hoped Jet wouldn’t try to hug or kiss her in front of her family; she knew that wouldn’t go over well at all with her Ye Ye’s modest ideas about
courting
as he called it. Even though in many parts of China, the younger generation was finally catching up to the rest of the world in its willingness to be less sheltered and more worldly in the matters of dating, her Ye Ye still believed in a slow friendship building into something more only after time and family acceptance. So far, like her sisters, Linnea had always respected his traditional attitude toward dating.

Her Nai Nai took the fruit from Ye Ye and gestured to the rocking chair. “Sit down, Benfu. You are tired and shouldn’t be carrying such heavy things.”

He let her take the pail but then waved his hand impatiently. “I’m fine, woman. Don’t treat me like an invalid.”

Yet Linnea was amused to see he went back to the rocking chair like an obedient child.

Around them the girls chuckled, and Linnea was glad for the diversion during the awkward moment. Jet set the box at his feet and nodded to her Nai Nai first, and then at each sister. Linnea cringed as he looked around the one-room house, then spoke to divert his attention from the sparse décor.

“Jet, this is my Nai Nai; you can call her
Lao
Calli.”

Jet approached Nai Nai as she fumbled to dry her hands on her apron.

“Thank you for inviting me to join your family meal, Lao Calli. I am honored.” He bent low at the waist, kowtowing in the old way that most his age wouldn’t.

Linnea smiled at his effort to show traditional respect. She was amused that he was so nervous, too. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling the discomfort.

“You are very welcome here,” Calli answered. “We’ve heard a lot about you for the last few weeks. Please, make yourself comfortable and thank you so much for the fruit—the girls will really enjoy it.” She gestured to a stool that the girls had left empty for him.

Jet picked up his box and went to the stool and sat down. Linnea caught his eye for a brief moment; then he bent his head again, digging in the box.

“I have something for you girls,” he said, a sly grin spreading across his face. His voice teased her sisters and all around they rewarded him with shy smiles and giggles.

Linnea felt her heart flutter as she watched him interacting with her sisters. She’d thought she would be embarrassed when he saw her humble home but was relieved that he didn’t seem shocked or disheartened. He acted comfortable in the meager setting, and that put her at ease. As she watched, he pulled out several rolls of red paper and a small bag filled with child-sized scissors.

Ivy clapped her hands together. “Oh! For paper cutting!”

Jet laughed. “Sure is—you beat me to it. I was going to tell you. Here, Ms. Smarty-Pants, you’re in charge of handing out scissors.”

Linnea smiled at the sudden excitement in the air. This year her Ye Ye hadn’t bought paper lanterns or other decorations but now her sisters would get to have them after all. And instead of cheap store-bought ones, they’d get to make them the old way. In her opinion that was much better, anyway.