Bitter Winds (29 page)

“I
can pay, but not with money,” Sami said to the vendor as he passed her a steamed bun from his street-side stand.

His expression turned from confusion to acknowledgment as Sami stared deep into his eyes. She was hungry, and was willing to do anything to appease her growling stomach. Her funds hadn’t lasted a week on the streets. She was starting to get desperate and she had only one other thing left of value—and it wasn’t with her at the moment.

“I close up at seven. Do you promise to come back?” The young man couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and Sami knew he’d cave in with just the thought of a stolen moment with a pretty woman.

“If you wrap me up a few of those, and throw in the milk, I’ll be standing just over there at fifteen minutes till.”

She’d scoped out this specific vendor early this morning and pinned her hopes that he would be the easiest to manipulate among the people on the street that early. She’d waited until the bulk of his morning business was done and he was looking at what were probably leftovers before she’d approached him.

One more second of eye contact and he let her take the bun, then quickly wrapped up three more. He handed them and the small plastic bottle of milk to Sami, then pushed the hair out of his eyes and smiled.

So easy,
thought Sami. And did he really think she’d let him put his greasy hands on her body? She nodded her thanks and moved away.

“See you later,” she called out, and sauntered down the street.

“Don’t forget,” he answered hopefully.

She crossed at the intersection and turned down a small alley. She ate one more of the buns before she arrived in front of the small row house. They’d spent one scary night under the arches of a busy overpass, reliving old times before Sami had found the place. She hoped the old woman who ran it wasn’t anywhere in sight. Sami was supposed to have been out the morning before, but she’d squeezed one more night out of her. She opened the door and peeked in. Hearing and seeing no one, she entered and slowly climbed the stairs to the room at the end of the long hall.

It wasn’t a hostel—she wasn’t stupid. She knew that would be the first place Li Jin would look for her. Instead she’d asked around until she’d found a boardinghouse on the run-down side of Wuxi. For the same price as a hostel would cost, she’d snagged a tiny room only big enough for a bed and one tiny chest of drawers. Primarily rented to single migrant workers, the room wasn’t ideal and she’d had to share the tiny bathroom with other tenants, but it was at least shelter. But now her deposit was long gone and Sami had promised payment today, but it wasn’t coming. She needed to get her things and get out of there before the woman called in the police to get the money owed to her.

She opened the door to find Lan still sleeping soundly on the bed. She wasn’t surprised. The damn baby had cried most of the night—and just about got her kicked out. She’d never seen so much coughing and sniffling, then gasping for breath. Sami wasn’t a nurse; how was she supposed to know what to do? She’d walked with her for hours, trying to calm her until someone had banged on her door and yelled at her to shut the baby up or get out. Then she’d poured a tiny bit of the
bai jiu
someone had left behind into a bottle. When she’d stuck it in the open mouth, the
child had coughed and sputtered but hungrily drank every drop. That had shut her up really fast, but by then it was almost morning. Sami had slipped away for some quiet and she didn’t know what she’d do that night if it all started up again. If she were being honest with herself, she’d admit she could barely take the screeching cries without wanting to throw the child out the window.

Avoiding the bed where the baby slept, Sami took the bottle of milk and set it on the dresser. She’d feed it to her the next time the bawling started. Quietly, she gathered their things and packed it all into the bag. She looked at the baby and dreaded the moment she would awaken. She decided to chance a small nap and she slid in between the crack of the bed and the dresser, curling into a tight ball.

But she couldn’t go to sleep.

She thought of Li Jin and the last look she’d seen on her face. Her expression said everything—especially that she hadn’t understood why Sami had lashed out at her, refusing to acknowledge the kindness of her family. Sami didn’t understand it, either. All she knew was that at that moment, she couldn’t take any more. It was true that Li Jin was the only person in her life who had ever reached out to her while wanting nothing in return. And Sami knew she’d screwed up but the fact was, she just couldn’t deal with kindness. Even from Li Jin.

That didn’t mean she didn’t care about her, though. She thought of the stress Li Jin was under and the looming deadline the shadow lender had set. And she knew those kinds of men—they’d take Rose Haven without a second thought to whose lives they’d uproot. At least then Li Jin would possibly have time for something other than caring for those people, wouldn’t she? Sami was still confused. She knew her evil side would love to see Rose Haven crumble to dust. But there was a tiny part of her that didn’t want Li Jin to suffer more than she already had. There was nothing in her that hated the girl who’d shown her such unconditional acceptance.

But then, it wasn’t up to her anymore to care. She couldn’t do anything to help. She wasn’t rich. She was broke. She couldn’t help Li Jin and at this point, she couldn’t even help herself.

She thought back to a few days before when a disheveled man had approached her in the street and asked her if she was willing to part with her baby girl for a price. Sami had walked away after giving him a tongue lashing.

But now it was time to go to plan B.

“I
’ve been all over Wuxi and even searched a few places in Suzhou. It’s been a week and Sami is nowhere to be found,” Li Jin said as she dropped more dumplings into the oil. Lily and Ivy had prepared the dough before they’d taken off to meet some new friends.

“You’ve got to just let it go. It is what it is,” her Baba answered from his place at the table, then went into a discussion about providing toilet paper, sheets, and even towels to the upcoming patrons of the hostel.

Li Jin knew her father was relieved Sami was gone but she couldn’t let it go. Even though she was needed at home, between meals and while Jojo was at school, she’d used up valuable time and money to try to find Sami and Lan. Was fate teasing her? Only just over a year before she’d juggled similar feelings when Jojo had been snatched from her life and she’d searched hopelessly for him. Now she felt just as fearful for Lan, as the morning
Sami had pulled her daughter from Auntie Rae’s arms, the baby had been running another fever and was having trouble breathing. Auntie Rae had begged Sami to leave her, but she said Sami was like a possessed demon and had left without a backward glance or one touch of sympathy for the baby who wailed in discomfort.

It was a puzzle. Why would Sami take Lan with her when all she’d ever tried to do was foist her off on everyone else? Just to prove she could? To punish everyone who loved her? It just didn’t make sense and Li Jin was desperately worried for little Lan. Even though she’d like to think Sami could never hurt her own child, a part of Li Jin wondered if that was true.

“We can get the sheets from the local women’s club. They don’t have to be new—they only have to be clean,” Li Jin’s mother said. “And the good news is that Jace found us an old thrown-away pool table for the common room, and he’s resurfacing it.”

Her father started telling them about some of the offers he was getting on a few discarded machines they’d found underneath the piles of rubble in the warehouse. Offers that weren’t enough to pay back their debt to the shadow lenders, but money that would be added to what they’d so far accumulated. Or at least, what they had left after paying for the few construction projects they’d financed for the hostel. It seemed to her that as fast as the funds came in, they were funneling out. Things had to turn around.

Their voices faded as they continued to talk about sheets and other things as if they were the most important thing in the world. And right now she had to admit, funds were important. They had to get the money to pay their debt.
But what about Lan?
And what about Sky, for that matter?
No one had been able to come up with his fine money and Linnea had told her that Sky’s mother was resigned to the fact that her son would not be coming home for a long time. Li Jin had tried to visit him again but they’d turned her away, saying Sky was in isolation.

Li Jin could only imagine what he was going through. Since the whole Falun Gong subject had been thrust into their lives, she’d found out a lot more about the persecution of anyone even remotely connected to the group. There were some scary rumors
out there—even talk about organ harvesting from those imprisoned. Lots of horrible stories floated around, and Li Jin just wanted Sky out of there and safe at home.

“Li Jin.
Li Jin . . .
”

She snapped back to the present to find both of her parents studying her with worried faces.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What?” she asked. She realized she’d been completely lost in her thoughts of Sami, Lan, and even Sky.

“Your dumplings are burning,” her mother scolded, but kindly. “And we asked you if you’ve got the numbers ready for your food-supply budget?”

Li Jin looked down to see the few dumplings had turned into blackened chunks. She sighed. She had a lot of food to prepare and couldn’t afford the time lost or for the ingredients to burn.

“Yes, I’ve got some figures. Let me just get this batch done and I’ll bring the paper to you.” She spooned out the scorched dough and threw it in the bin. She needed to pull herself together. It was going to take some more brainstorming or they were going to lose Rose Haven.

Ivy sat across from Lily and took notes. She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. Lily needed to concentrate.

“Dawei . . . Okay, and what year did ‘Dawei’ say he was on the Olympic team?”

Lily put her finger to her lip. “Um . . . he didn’t say what year. I just assumed he meant the last time the Olympics were held. Ivy—we’re never going to find him. I can’t even tell you what he looked like.”

Ivy nodded. “Oh yes, we will find him. Linnea already gave me a description and I promise you, we’re going to get your violin back. That little thief is going to pay.”

She’d been so glad to get home and then when Lily had told her about losing her violin in an attempt to get the money to free her, Ivy had just about gone crazy with anger. If it wasn’t enough that the woman named Fengniao continued to haunt her in her dreams—as if she’d been real—now this Dawei character had swooped in and taken the one thing that meant the most to her sister. She meant to find him and he was going to give the violin back or he was going to lose a few limbs.

“Can you think of any other details he might have told you? The street he lived on? His family name? Sometimes when peo
ple make up stories, they use real bits of their past. We just have to sort through and see if there is anything that can lead us to him.”

Lily shook her head. “No, he only talked about his grandfather but he didn’t call him by name. And he said they’d lost their home a year before.”

“Did he say—”

“Wait, Ivy! I remember something else. He said they lived on Yellow Lane Street.”

Ivy was so excited, she jumped up from the bench. “That’s great, Lily! We’ll start there. Maybe someone knows him or his family.”

If it took her a year, she’d get Viola back into Lily’s arms and when all was as it used to be—settled down and calm—she’d tell her about Fengniao. Even if the woman wasn’t real and had been a dream that came during her darkest moment, she felt it was time she and her sister examined and shared their memories. All of them.

Besides the memories, she wanted all the secrets exposed. They were growing older, and after all she’d heard Lily had been up to, she knew it was inevitable they’d begin growing apart. She also knew the less left unsaid between them, the better. Lily was her only blood family and she wouldn’t let their past come between them.

Ivy settled back down on the bench. “Let’s talk it over some more and you might remember more details.”

They were interrupted by their Ye Ye as he came out the door.

“Ivy?”

“Yes?” She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice but she wanted to get back to writing down details while they were fresh in Lily’s mind.

He walked out farther and stood before them, blocking the sun.

“You left something in the pocket of my jacket when you had it at the hospital. Look what I found.”

Ivy squinted to see what he carried. She gasped. In the middle of his big, gnarled hand lay a tiny blue feather.