A Thread Unbroken (17 page)

“They’re preparing blankets for everyone in the complex,” Sister Haihua explained. “Boxes of old, tattered coats were donated
to the church, and they are using the stuffing from them to fill the blankets.”

“Complex?” Chai looked to Sister Haihua for an explanation.

Sister Haihua pointed to an old building to their right. “That used to be a nunnery, but it’s mostly used for housing the elderly now. It’s called
Tianlao Yuan
, Heaven’s Garden for the Elderly. Some of these people had nowhere to go when they became too old to fish or do other work. We take them in here and give them a safe home. But the winters are cold in this old stone building, so we use all that is given to us for resources.”

She guided Chai to a bench and gestured for her to sit. “I’ll be back very soon, I promise. Then we’ll talk about why you are here and how I can help you. I feel you are carrying a heavy burden today, Chai. We’ll see what we can do about that.” She winked at Chai and quickly walked away toward a door in the side of the church.

Chai looked over at the group of old women and saw their heads bent and eyebrows raised, as if they were talking about her. She turned her back to them and opened the flap of the basket to find Zee wide awake and fidgeting—and by the looks of it, preparing to launch a fit for a bottle.

Great, what am I going to do now? They’re going to see her if I bring her out.
Chai looked around her for a place to escape to.

Zee let out a long, pitiful wail. Chai sighed, knowing there was no way to hide her secret from the women now.

“
Ni hao.
You over there. Is that a kitten or a baby we hear? Come closer so we can see.”

Chai turned and saw one of the old women waving her handkerchief at her to get her attention, squinting her way to see her better. She debated getting up and walking back down to the boat with Zee, but she couldn’t return to the house with her, so she stood and brought the basket over to the nosy women.

“
Ni hao lao ren.
Yes, it is a baby. Her name is Zee.” She opened the flap and the ladies all struggled to get a look. Chai waited to hear them condemn the baby girl for her facial imperfection.

The woman wearing the yellow scarf who had called her over—she appeared to be the one in charge—exclaimed and covered her mouth with her hand. Chai prepared herself to defend Zee, feeling her cheeks flame with indignation over the insult she felt sure was to come.

“What a beautiful baby!” the woman finally said.

Chai was shocked into silence by the compliment. As she stood there holding the basket out, the ladies one by one took turns declaring Zee to be a special child, a little princess, and all sorts of other flowery compliments, until finally Yellow Scarf Lady reached out and plucked the basket right from her hands. Chai was surprised—for such an old woman confined to a wheelchair, she was strong!

“I want to see the rest of her. You got a bottle in that bag? I believe someone is crying for their lunch.” The woman pulled Zee from the basket and cradled her against her shoulder, cooing to Zee as she thumped her on her back repeatedly. The other women all looked on, waiting their turns for a chance to hold the baby.

Chai reached into the bag and grabbed the bottle Josi had prepared and pushed into a thick sock from Tao’s collection. She shook the contents and handed it to the woman, who promptly began the squeeze-pause-squeeze method to feed little Zee.

Yellow Scarf Lady looked up at Chai. “It’s been a long time since we had such a little baby here, but not so long that I forgot how to care for one. And this little frog is hungry!” She cackled at her own words, her friends joining in with her as Chai looked on with a straight face.

The woman’s gleeful expression turned sour and she wrinkled her nose. “Aww...
dabian
...she has left you a little gift, in her britches. That’s why when my babies were tiny, we didn’t put those useless diapers on them. Which one of you old cronies wants her now?”

The old woman looked around at the others, who all shook their heads at her. They began their cackling again as Yellow Scarf Lady handed Zee back to Chai so that she could tend to the baby’s soiled bottom.

Y
ellow Scarf Lady gave Chai one of the ragged coats from the bag at her feet. Chai spread it on the ground and gently laid Zee on it. Luckily, Josi had also packed all the torn pieces of material they had been using as diapers, and Chai pulled one from the bag. She recognized the material as another of Lao Chan’s thick shirts, and she chuckled when she thought of him trying to find it later in the week. She’d love to be able to tell him it was doing a fine job keeping his daughter’s bottom warm. Instead he’d probably think the ocean winds blew it off the line and into the bay.

Chai could feel the many eyes on her as she worked to clean Zee. She expected for one of the old women to tell her she wasn’t doing it right, or fast enough, or some sort of unwanted advice. Working through the split in the baby’s pants, Chai used the edges of the soiled diaper to clean the rest of Zee’s little behind and then rolled it up and put it in the bag.

Free from the binds of her diaper, Zee kicked her chubby little feet in the air and gurgled her glee. Chai gave her a minute to enjoy the freedom in the brisk air, then slipped another piece of material under her, covered it with the torn piece of plastic,
and tied the rope around it just as Sister Haihua returned. She straightened the tiny pants on Zee’s legs and set her up on her lap to look around.

“Oh...” She smiled gently at Chai. “I see now what was in your basket.”

“Um, yes. Can I talk to you? Alone?” She added, quickly looking at the gathering of old women who watched them.

“Of course. Let’s go to the kitchen, and we can have some privacy.” She picked up the basket and bag while Chai cradled Zee close to her and followed behind.

Entering the kitchen, Chai once again felt a calmness come over her. She was still infatuated with the cavernous room and the feeling of quietness it prompted inside her. She really liked it there and was anxious to find out if it could be a place of retreat for their baby girl.

“Sit down. Would you like something to eat?”

“
Mei guen xie.
Some water would be nice, though.” She was much too nervous to even try to put anything in her stomach except for liquid. Chai settled herself at the table and propped Zee in her lap. The infant looked all around the room, finally settling her eyes on the high beams over her head.

Sister Haihua returned with a tall glass of water and set it in front of Chai.

“Here, let me hold her. You look a bit tired.” She reached across the table until Chai handed over the baby. The sister laid Zee down the length of her lap and began to expertly move her legs back and forth in a soothing motion.

Chai wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. After a few times of opening her mouth and then closing it, Sister Haihua interrupted with a question. “Is this your child, Chai?”

Chai wrinkled her head in confusion. “Mine? What? No, she isn’t mine! I swear.”

“Because if she is, I won’t judge you.” She looked at Chai imploringly, compassion the only thing evident on her face.

“Zee is not mine, Sister Haihua. But I’ve been caring for her because her mother doesn’t want her.”

The sister sighed. “I see. Well, that is sad news. She is quite the little beauty and will be more so once her tiny mouth is repaired. I love the name you’ve given her. How old is she?”

Chai looked up at the young woman, beseeching her with her eyes. “She is less than a week old. Sister, the midwife—or maybe even Zee’s grandmother—is coming to take her away tomorrow. We know what will happen to her, and I don’t know what to do to save her.” Chai was shocked at herself for being so quick to trust this woman, a virtual stranger.

Sister Haihua cuddled Zee close to her. She slowly began to tell Chai a story.

“Chai, many years ago, before I was ever born, Sandu’ao was a booming place. Fishermen were becoming rich, along with the shopkeepers and restaurant owners. Spanish missionaries came and built this church, and later the Americans added the nunnery behind it. In the beginning, it must have been magnificent, let me tell you. I’ve been told it was the pride of Sandu’ao, and fishermen can still see its steeple from miles away as they fish in the ocean.”

Chai smiled, for even she could feel the special atmosphere of the place, and she had been drawn to it herself.

“Then the war came, and the Japanese were intent on razing Sandu’ao to the ground. And they did, killing thousands of people and completely wiping out every house, business, and boat. Everything was gone—everything except for this church
and the building behind it. It was protected by something unseen, something that bombs and bullets couldn’t penetrate. Since then, it stands as a beacon of hope to those who are experiencing hard times. And it has been used for the good of many people, especially those who have nowhere to call home. Your child—or whoever she belongs to—will have a safe place here. On that you have my word, Chai.”

Zee looked up at the beautiful face of Sister Haihua, and the corner of her mouth lifted, almost as if she understood that she was accepted. Chai breathed a sigh of relief. Regardless of what she had told Josi, she didn’t have any other ideas of where to take Zee and had hoped that her only plan would work.

“Would you like to see where Zee will be staying? There are other children there, too.”

“Other children?”

“Yes. We have some who have found their way here, one way or another. Come on. I’ll show you. It’s nothing fancy, mind you; but to us, it is home.” She stood and, holding Zee over her shoulder, led Chai out of the room.

Chai felt the burden she was carrying suddenly disappear from her shoulders. Zee would be safe there; Chai had done a good thing by bringing her.

Chai followed the sister through a long hall and out a back door. They crossed through the courtyard, and the gang of old women tried to wave them over again.

“We’ll bring the baby back to see you shortly!” Sister Haihua called out to them as she went on by and out a gate located at the back of the yard.

She led Chai to a door at the building in the back, the one she had pointed to earlier. Ferocious-looking but chipped lion statues guarded the shabby entrance.

“I thought you said this was an old folks’ home,” Chai said.

“It is. And what better place to house the children, where their infectious joy can improve the quality of life for those who have lived so long they will soon be leaving this world? Our nursery is located right in the middle between the men’s and the women’s wards. It’s a popular place for the elderly to go and feel needed. There they can drop in and use their years of experience and gentle ways to teach our children, give them comfort, and make them feel loved.”

“But where do the children come from? Where are their parents?”

The sister sighed. “Oh, like little Zee, some are unwanted because of a simple physical issue. We have also had a few perfectly healthy girls whose fathers wanted boys. Some of our children have more complicated disabilities—but nothing that can’t be handled.”

They walked down a long stone corridor that had many smaller apartment-size rooms leading off of it, most with the doors standing wide open. Above them, red paper cutouts of dragons and birds hung by threads, swaying in the draft and adding the only burst of color to the gray surroundings.

As they passed the individual rooms, Chai caught glimpses of elderly people doing various things. Some were sitting in wheelchairs, staring off into space. Some knitted, and others were napping on their beds. Other than being bundled up in hats and mittens for the cold, for the most part they appeared to be content. The halls and rooms were sparse but clean—they even passed a woman using a strong solution to mop wide arcs back and forth as she walked backward down the hall.

Sister Haihua’s voice echoed around them as they walked.

“Many of the men are outside, wandering about. In the spring and summer they like to work the gardens. The ones who can still get around walk down the path a piece so they can smoke. We don’t allow tobacco inside or even out in the courtyard. It’s a hard concession for them, but they do it because they have nowhere else to live.” She turned and gave Chai a wink. “Honestly, we have some who keep a pinch of snuff in their cheeks, but I don’t think that does anyone else any harm, so I pretend I don’t know.”

Sister Haihua turned the corner with Chai right behind her, and they came to a huge wall covered with windows. Unlike the gray walls of the halls and smaller rooms, the nursery walls were painted a bright yellow, with cartoon posters and red good luck tassels hung on all sides. Through the window, Chai saw children playing on beds, a few toddlers in cribs, and several elderly women walking around tending them. In the corner, a wrinkled old man sat in a wicker rocking chair, his
Mao
hat pulled low over his eyes as he rocked a tiny boy to sleep in his arms. Chai wasn’t sure which one looked more content, the old man or the toddler.