Excerpt:  My Half of the Sky

Excerpt from uncorrected proof

Chapter Eight
Mountain of Debt

There was a tapping on my leg, a shaking of my shoulder.  The air smelled of steamed rice.  I pulled my eyes open.

"You'll be late," a voice called, leaning in through my mosquito net.  Mother.

Morning and I wasn't eager to return to the tea shop. To move at all.  I'd stayed up late, writing in my journal.  I'd written of Cheng Min and how I hadn't recognized her, how she was in danger, how I hadn't been able to talk to her yet.  I'd written of Feng Gu's tea shop, the air in the shop smelling desperate.  How could I change that? I'd enclosed the simple bird cutting.

I felt sympathy for Feng Gu.  How had she ended up being in charge of the family business?  Her father was a Mahjong player, like mine.  However, wasn't there a responsible uncle?  A brother?  I couldn't make customer's flock to the store.  Money appear.  As Waipo would have said, laughing and shaking her head at Feng Gu's impossible problem, "Even the emperor can't eat rooster eggs."

"Hurry now," Mother said, patting me on the arm.

"Ma."  I nestled my head in my pillow.  I still wanted to find out how Cheng Min was doing.  I looked forward to the park and Madame Paper Cutter.  "The tea shop.  That's not really a job."

"Don't talk such nonsense."  Mother swatted me with a wet rag.  "Don't you dare talk such nonsense."

I sat up.  Mother's eyes were red, swollen.  What was wrong?

"You need that job."  Mother looked at the mosquito netting, picking at non-existent loose threads.

My heart raced.  My palms sweat.  I thought again to last night.  Father had stumbled in late, kicking stools on the way to his room.  Not the noises of a man who won big.  But not an unfamiliar sound in our house.

"How much?" I asked. 

Mother's eyes welled with tears which she immediately brushed away with an angry fist. She kept that fist next to her cheek, shaking it back and forth.  

"How much?" I asked Mother again.

"A hundred and fifty yuan," she whispered.

Oh, Gods.  But I didn't really have a job.  Feng Gu had offered me two more hours pay.  Four yuan.

"How many times have I begged him to stop?"  She rubbed one hand over the other. Frantic.  "We don't have any more winning houses of tiles in our family."

"Yes, we do, Ma,"  I said, grabbing onto her hands, holding them tightly.  She'd never spoken this way.  "Yes, we do." 

A hundred and fifty yuan.  I saw the number everywhere  On the pages of the magazine, the tile floor, the tea bins.  Even on the back of Feng Gu's cotton shirt as she visited the outhouse.  Where would we find such a sum of money?

All morning, the tea shop had been quiet.  I was wasting my time sitting here. I would never turn this business around.  Never earn any money.

A shuffling noise made me look up.  An old lady hobbled in on a cane.  Wisps of long white hair cascaded over her shoulders. She wore an old flowered dress that fell past her knees, but not far enough to cover sores on her legs.  Was this the homeless woman from the hamburger shop?  But, no.  That woman didn't have gray hair.

"Can I help you," I asked.

"I don't know you," the woman said.

How abrupt.  Was this a relative of Feng Gu's?  Perhaps this was how everyone communicated in this shop.
"Feng Gu has stepped out for a moment," I explained.  "She'll be back soon."

The woman didn't look in my direction or nod understanding.  She wore rubber flip flops.  She turned her back on me and shuffled over to the one-yuan-per-kilo bin.

"Back soon," she repeated.  "Back soon." 

She picked up a handful of leaves and inhaled the fragrance. Then she dropped the leaves back in the bin.  She repeated this ritual several times.  Each time as if she had just arrived. Perhaps she was senile.

"Can I give you a sample?" I asked, moving close to her.  "Would you like to buy some tea?"

She backed away.  Stuck her cane out towards me.  I raised my hands, palms out. 

"I don't know you," she said.

"Feng Gu will be back soon," I repeated.  I wanted to pat her on the arm.  Reassure her.  I returned to my seat at the cherry wood table.  I'd fix the old woman a cup of tea.

While the tea steeped, I closed my eyes.  Oh, Father.  Father.  Father.  How could he dig our well so deep?  I would never earn money here.  Not a hundred and fifty yuan.  Perhaps Zi Mei could offer us a loan.  Again.  But a hundred and fifty yuan?

"Did you say something," the old woman asked.

"No," I said.  Perhaps I had mumbled.

"Yes, you did.  You said a hundred and fifty yuan," the old woman said, her mouth scrunched up.  "You think this tea is worth a hundred and fifty yuan?"

"No, no," I laughed.  What a ridiculous thought.  I poured her a cup of tea, indicating with my hand for her to come sit down.  "I-I-was thinking out loud, I guess."

"That you would charge me a hundred and fifty yuan?"  Her words came out so forcefully that spittle flew through the air.

"No--no."  Perhaps this woman was more than just a bit old. I stood up and made a show of looking at the bin.  "What's that tea? That tea over there is one yuan--"

“You don't know what tea and you tell me a hundred and fifty yuan,” the woman  said, leaning heavily on her cane.  Her arms trembled.

"I'm sorry," I tried.  "I was-ah-joking."

I went over to the one-yuan-per-kilo bin she indicated and put a handful of tea in a bag.  Then another and another.  I'd  give this strange old woman a sample to take home.  Quickly.

Strange old woman.  An alarm went off in the back of my head.  Something Feng Gu had taught me yesterday.  Madame Tsui Ping?    

I glanced over my shoulder, relieved to see that the old woman--had it been Madame Tsui Ping?-- no longer stood there.  So I'd lost a sale.  Fortunately Feng Gu hadn't seen her come or go.  I could imagine Feng Gu's high-pitched voice, "You were supposed to help me make this business better.  Not get rid of the few customers I have." 

A tapping sounded on the marble floor and I turned.  On the ground behind the cherry wood table sat the old woman. Her skirt had flown up to her thighs.  Her gray hair covered her face.

A shiver ran up my spine, as if a gust of air-conditioning from the department store had entered my cotton blouse.  I dropped the tea bag into the bin and scrambled over to woman.  Perhaps she had tried to sit down and fallen.  Why hadn't I heard her fall?

"There's no problem, is there?"  I knelt down.    

The woman's arthritic legs were gnarled like the trunk of a Banyan tree.  I couldn't get her up without help from Feng Gu.   

"There's no problem?" I repeated. 

“Joking means not telling the truth,"  the old woman shouted.  "Why don't you want to tell me the truth?  I'm asking you one more time."

Oh, no.  Oh, no.  Oh, no.  Certainly this was Madame Tsui Ping.  She sounded as though she had fallen back in time to the Cultural Revolution.  Was she recalling an interrogation by the Red Guards?

"I'm sorry, Madame Tsui Ping."  I touched her arm.

"I don't know you."  She flinched as if I'd held a torch to her jacket.  "How do you know me?"

“What’s going on?”  Feng Gu came out of the back room, shaking water off her hands.

"I'm not sure."  I stood up.  Relieved.  "One minute she was standing behind me, then she was on the floor."

"Well, why don't you help her up?"  She nudged me out of the way.  "No wonder she's shouting."

"She--" I started.  "She doesn't seem to want to get up."

"Nonsense."  Feng Gu touched the woman on her shoulder.  "Tsui Ping?" 

Tsui Ping didn't flinch this time.  She stared straight ahead, rocking back and forth.  Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.

"Tsui Ping?  The floor's dirty.  You'll get sick down here.  It's me.  Feng Gu.  Your tea seller.”

“I don’t know any tea seller," Tsui Ping shouted.  "I’m not so elite that I drink tea.  I only drink hot water.”

“I've got some for you.”  Feng Gu pointed to the table where I proceeded to pour a cup of hot water.  Feng Gu put her hand out to help Madame Tsui Ping up.  The old woman spit on her.

Two young women stopped at the shop entrance.  One of them had a purple mark over her cheek, like a permanent bruise.  They both carried bags from the Eternal Happiness shop located around the corner.  Madame Tsui Ping's children?  Customers?  I stood and took a few steps towards them.

"Can I help you?" I asked. 

"Zi Mei mentioned we should stop by and have a cup of tea."  The woman with the mark surveyed the shop, her head moving up and down like a bird.  "That the place had new workers."

So Zi Mei really hadn't just come in to gloat yesterday.  She had tested us.  We had passed. 

"Come in." I forced cheer into my voice.     

"Looks like you're busy."  The woman pointed at Tsui Ping and giggled.  How could these women stand and laugh at the old teacher? 

"Not to worry," I said, as if we always had Madame Tsui Ping on our floor.  "I have some tea ready just for you."

"No thanks," this unpleasant woman said.  "We'll come back another time."

But they didn't leave.  They stayed by the edge of the door.  They watched.

Feng Gu knelt down next to Madame Tsui Ping and whispered to her.  Madame Tsui Ping continued to rock back and forth, hugging herself.

A man drove his motorcycle up onto the sidewalk and turned off his engine. Something on the back of his bike was steaming.  Buns?  Meat?  Noodles? Perhaps this delivery man didn't want to leave his motorbike to purchase tea.  I moved away from the two women.

"Can I help you?"  I asked him. 

"Who is that?" He shouted over my head to the women.  He pointed at Tsui Ping.  "What did they do this time?"

This time?  What other events had occurred here? I moved back towards Feng Gu to see what progress she was making.  We had to do something.  Tsui Ping was attracting a crowd. 

"She must be getting worse."  Feng Gu stood up.  

“It's my fault," I whispered.  "I was thinking out loud.  Madame Tsui Ping--she thought, she thought I was trying to charge her the wrong price.”

“How could you tell her the wrong price?"  Feng Gu yelled.  "She always orders the same one-yuan-per-kilo tea.  You know that.  What price did you tell her?"

"I wasn't--" I whispered.  "I wasn't actually charging her.  She heard me say a hundred and fifty--"

"What?"  Feng Gu's eyes grew large.  "A hundred and fifty yuan?" 

The two women by the door giggled.  I looked at them, wishing they would continue on with their shopping.  But now there were more people.  Even the migrant workers who set up shops on the street had come to watch.  Too bad one of them wasn't a helper like the Man in Blue.  

"What should we do?" I whispered. 

“I don’t know.”  She looked outside to the street filled with staring people.  She glanced at her watch and shook her head.  The sounds of lunchtime traffic filled the air– motorcycles zooming up on the sidewalk, rickshaw driver’s frantically ringing their bells, taxis blaring their horns.  

“There's too much traffic for an ambulance," she said. 

She was right.  We were lucky, being in town, as now we had ambulances.  Back in the village, we would be left on our own.  Still, the ambulances were too big to zoom in and out of heavy traffic.  Their sirens were just extra noise.  Nobody pulled over for them like they did in the movies.

Feng Gu's brow was furrowed.  She pulled on her hair, as though grabbing onto a fortune stick at the temple.

“Maybe in a half an hour or so, we could call for one,” I suggested.

“And in the meantime?”  Feng Gu’s voice was like a whip.

Feng Gu went over to the phone.  Perhaps she would try for the ambulance anyway.  I went back over to the crazed woman and bent down. 

"Madame Tsui Ping," I said. 

I didn't know what else to say.  Come back to today?  We're not Red Guards.  We won't hurt you.  Her eyes stared off, as though seeing something far away. 

"Can I get you a fresh pot of tea?"  I pointed to the ten-yuan-per-kilo bin.  "It's our best tea. Let me make you a pot."

I stood up and headed toward the back room for more hot water.  Feng Gu hung up the phone.

"Well?" I asked.

"Father will be here shortly."  Feng Gu glared.  "Maybe all your dreaming and theorizing would be good for a philosophy class.  It's not helpful in selling tea.”

Perhaps I was that emperor who wanted to eat rooster eggs.  Had Father found me a job which was not too easy, as Madame Paper Cutter suggested, but way above my abilities?  My half of the sky had such dark clouds rolling in, I didn't know where to move.

"Well, what did you do last time this happened?" I asked. 

"This," Feng Gu hissed pointing at the form of Tsui Ping on the ground, for that's all she was, a form, mumbling and laughing and mumbling some more.  "This has never happened before."

© 2006 Jana McBurney-Lin, All Rights Reserved

TOP