Buddha Baby (37 page)

"I'm glad you're here, too," Lindsey said, and meant it.

Lindsey Owyang was sitting in a minivan. She and Michael had rented it and were driving up Highway 160 with her parents and grandparents. They were on their way to the quiet town of Locke.

By the time they'd passed Vacaville, all the chitchat had fizzled away and they now rode in silence. Thank goodness the mild-mannered commentary of a baseball game on the radio could be counted on to interject noise into the dead air. Squeezed into the backseat between her mother and Yun Yun, Lindsey stared out the window and wondered if organizing this trip was a good idea after all. She hadn't expected witticisms to be ricocheting back and forth among them all, but a little pleasant conversation at periodic intervals wouldn't have been bad. For the past forty-five minutes she'd made as many comments about Costco as were humanly possible, and now she was a little tired of trying to think of things to say. She looked at each person out of the corner of her eye and wondered what they were thinking. Finally, to no one in particular, she said, "Will it be hard to remember which building was ours?"

"Right on Main Street," her dad replied. "Calvin Ahchuck's mother still lives in town. She's going to meet us."

Yun Yun let out a little huff. "That old lady?" she said.

Lindsey's mother took up the conversation. "Michael," she called over the back of the seat, "You two better hurry up and figure out where you're going to have the wedding. Places book up a year and a half in advance." She turned to Lindsey. "And you better start dieting now, if you're going to lose ten pounds."

Lindsey was about to tell her mother flat out that she was not overweight. But before she could summon the gumption, she heard Yun Yun mutter, "Not so bad."

Waiting for the punch line, Lindsey was certain Yun Yun was going to make further comment about the current state of fat in the backseat. Several seconds passed but miraculously no insult came Lindsey's way. She was quietly absorbing her grandmother's attitude adjustment when Yeh Yeh piped up, "River looks low for this time of year! But you never know, flash flood very dangerous."

Lindsey's dad humored Yeh Yeh. He said, "Is that so, Pop?"

When Michael eventually made the turnoff to Locke, they drove right onto Main Street and found a ramshackle block of rain-beaten, sun-bleached shacks. The wooden planks of the buildings' walls all leaned as if huddling together to keep each other company during the lonely afternoons.

Lindsey's dad hopped out of the front passenger's seat and opened the back door. As it slid open, it made a satisfying
ka-chunk
sound. Inside the air-conditioned vehicle, Lindsey, her mother, and grandparents had been shielded from the rising valley temperature, but now with the side door open, the air enveloped them like heat from an oven.

Yeh Yeh sniffed. "Peat," he said. "And firecrackers. Must be some kids here joking around."

"There's Mabel Ahchuck," Lindseys dad said.

Lindsey looked across the street and saw a tiny Chinese woman with a frizzy perm and strange, amber-colored dye job. She was wearing an orange apron over a housedress that made her look like she'd just gotten off work at Home Depot. Squinting in the sunlight, she looked like a kind, blind orangutan.

"Welcome!" she called. And then, "Is that you, Pearlie?"

Michael had just lifted Yun Yun down from the backseat, and Lindsey ran to the back of the van to help her dad unfold the wheelchair for her grandmother.

"I don't need that thing," Yun Yun said. She walked very slowly toward Mrs. Ahchuck with outstretched arms, and exclaimed, "Look at you, Mabel, you're an old lady!"

Lindsey realized Yun Yun hadn't been
complaining
about the old lady in the car. Rather, it seemed she'd been looking forward to seeing an old friend.

The two ladies linked arms like schoolgirls and walked a short distance. Anticipating that Yun Yun would eventually get tired, Lindsey unfolded the wheelchair and followed behind, pushing it around empty. After about five minutes, Yun Yun slowed to a stop and did not protest when Lindsey offered the wheelchair. She grabbed Lindseys arm and sat down with matter-of-fact dignity. Lindsey then arranged her grandmother's legs and feet into comfortable positions, then got up and resumed pushing the chair while everyone else walked alongside them.

They all strolled down Main Street, and when Lindseys mom threw out questions regarding ceremony plans, Michael intercepted them. Lindsey was trying to listen in on the old ladies' conversation.

"Expected to see you at your boy's anniversary party," Yun Yun said.

Mrs. Ahchuck shook her head, "Too much trouble. Pick up, drive back,
ai-ya
… rather stay here. Guess I'm used to quiet place like this. Not too much hustle and bustle like Waverly Street, eh?"

While everyone else dispersed along the empty street to look around, Lindsey was still walking directly behind Yun Yun, pushing the wheelchair. Meanwhile, Mrs. Ahchuck strolled right alongside. The old women talked, seemingly oblivious to Lindsey's presence even though she was as close to either of them as they were to each other.

"Remember how we played Chinese jump rope in the street?" Mabel asked. "I remember you could jump higher than anyone else."

"Except Opal," Yun Yun replied. "She was always very good at that game."

Even though Yun Yun's back was to her, Lindsey couldn't help but feel that her grandmother meant for her to overhear what she was saying.

Yun Yun continued, "We known each other a long time. First you live across the street when I was small, then I was very lucky your family moved to Locke, too. After I marry and come here, you are the only one who know me from before. I was happy that you remember me after all that time."

Mrs. Ahchuck rested an arm on Yun Yun's shoulder. "You my old friend, how can I forget you? But now… we are old ladies. The difference between remember and forget is not so big. We only think about whether our feet hurt today, am I right?"

Yun Yun interjected, "Remember when I first come here, you and I still not bad-looking back then. You wanted to be chosen Asparagus Queen—"

Mrs. Ahchuck hooted. "In all delta region, we not know they always pick a blonde for the festival parade. We were naive!" The old woman laughed until tears formed in the corner of her eyes. Yun Yun reached into her sleeve for a tissue and held it up for her friend to take.

Then Yun Yun pointed to Yeh Yeh up ahead and said, "When his parents die in flash flood and we move back to San Fran, I missed you very much. You more like sister than my sister. Sorry I haven't come back to see you in so long."

Mrs. Ahchuck nodded her head. "Is all right, Pearlie."

Lindsey pushed the wheelchair forward slowly and steadily, which was no easy feat considering how lopsided the sidewalk planks were. She tried not to jostle her grandmother too much, and kept her eyes trained ahead on the upcoming path.

Mrs. Ahchuck said, "This town used to be so busy with so many people. Year after year, every one of us picking cherries, asparagus, grapes. But this place is like us now. All dried up. Hardly anyone comes to visit, not even my grandchildren. Pretty soon no one will remember you and me."

About ten feet ahead, Lindsey could see Yeh Yeh peering inside a door. As they approached him, Mrs. Ahchuck stopped and called everyone over. Lindsey stepped out from behind the wheelchair, and gave Yun Yun a small smile. Her grandmother's face was as impassive as she'd always known it. They waited together as everyone gathered around.

Mrs. Ahchuck led everybody inside a newly painted space that was furnished in a straightforward and functional way. She offered them tea and almond cookies from a pastry box and said, "Look familiar? Can you believe this is the same gambling room where we used to run the
pai gow
poker game? Newly refurbish to be a tourist center next year."

Mrs. Ahchuck was pretty steady on her feet, and took to slowly wheeling around Yun Yun. Lindsey's dad said, "Hey look, the cashier's cage is still in the back."

Lindsey felt the lopsided floor beneath her shoes and noticed the old tongue-and-groove walls. Wandering around the room, she quiedy noted that the new paint couldn't quite cover up all the cracks and blemishes, and she liked that.

Lost in thought, she stopped to admire two framed banners written in Chinese calligraphy. Yeh Yeh suddenly sidled up behind her. She was slightly startled when she noticed him suddenly by her side. Studying the banners as well, he said, "My
baba
, your great-grandpa, was a calligraphy artist. He never made any money from it, but he had passion in his heart. Drove my mother crazy.
Amah
always wanted him to stop dreaming and make money, but he was always seeing things a different way, observing, and listening. More important things than making money. Am I right? He was like you. An artist."

He patted her lighdy on the shoulder, then headed for the cookies.

Like you. An artist
. Her grandfather's words were still floating in her ears when she spotted Michael through the doorway, standing out in the middle of the sunny street. After quickly checking to see that both Yun Yun and Yeh Yeh were sitting down and comfortably sipping tea, she went outside.

Catching up with Michael, she said, "Since your expose was a success, now do you get to take some time off?"

Michael shook his head. "Nope," he said, "this week I start working on a story about a meatless bratwurst company from Germany called Gluten-Taag."

She twirled her ruby ring around her wedding finger and held it up to the sunlight. On her other hand, she wore her
bague de Hello Kitty
with equal pride.

"Hey," she said. "How did you manage to get your hands on these jewels while you were down at the Psychic Food Ashram?"

Michael put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I had my mom send them to my cousin in Santa Cruz, then I picked them up on the way."

"You thought of everything," she said, then got on her tiptoes to peck him on the cheek.

Across the street was an old joss house from which Lindsey detected the strong smell of Chinese incense. The scent reminded her of childhood days in Chinatown, and they went inside.

In the darkened room, they approached a statue surrounded by fruit offerings and flowers.

"Look," Lindsey said, "this Buddha looks friendly."

She picked up a few magenta-and mustard-colored joss sticks and lit them. She placed them into the sand beneath the Buddha's toes.

Michael added, "I think he looks like a big, healthy baby."

He reached for her hand, and they gazed at each other for a while. Turning around, they noticed that her parents and grandparents were outside, now standing in the middle of the street, enjoying the sunshine.

Facing the altar again, Lindsey and Michael each bowed to the statue of Buddha. From the dark, cool room they looked out from the temple doorway, then slowly turned and walked toward their family.

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the dish, the stoop and the cherry on top from KIM WONG KELTNER