A Thread Unbroken (23 page)

“No way, that is rob—”

“
Hao de.
We’ll pay,” Jun interrupted Ruju. He didn’t relish the thought of getting back on another bus, so he was willing to pay the extra fare and didn’t want to take the time to barter. “But we go now, not tomorrow.” Mentally he counted how much money he had spent in the last few days, and he again hoped that Wei did not find out how much he had been taking from their dwindling savings account to fund his search.

Ruju shook her head.

“Fine, Lao Chan. If you want to be robbed, it’s your money, not mine.”

The chef-waiter looked out the window and gave a thumbs-up to a small, raggedly dressed man standing at the curb beside a tiny taxi. Basically just a small enclosure with benches built over a three-wheeled motorcycle, it was so beat-up that Jun wondered if it would really run.

“You know, tomorrow they say Typhoon Keso will visit Sandu’ao.” The chef pushed his thumbs through his belt loops and hiked his pants up higher, showing his mismatched socks.

“Another adventure to look forward to.” Jun raised his eyebrow, lifted the bowl to his lips, and began to slurp his noodles.

“Want to turn around and go back?” Ruju asked hopefully.

He shook his head no as he drained the last of his broth from the bowl.

Ruju sighed. “This must be one special girl you are chasing around.”

W
ith a full belly and his nerves frayed from anticipation, Jun climbed into the mini taxi and made room for Ruju. He pulled the curtains open on each side so he could look out at the people and passing scenery. Ruju set her bag in the seat next to her and got busy cleaning her fingernails.

The driver got comfortable behind the wheel and, with a clanging sound, started the motor and took off. With the compact shape of the tiny vehicle, he was soon weaving in and out of traffic.

They made small talk about the weather first, and then Ruju hesitated. “Lao Jun, you said you have two daughters. Were you sad they were not sons?”

Jun thought a minute. “Of course I wanted a son. Every man wants a son. But when each of my daughters was placed in my arms, I loved her. I don’t know if I love them more or less than I would a son—I only love them as my children.”

“You are the first man I’ve ever heard declare love for his daughters. It’s very strange to hear. But what about when you get older and your daughters are married off? Who will take care of you and your
tai tai
?”

“If I raise my daughters right, they will make sure their mother and I are cared for, even if they are married off. The old Chinese way is to drill a sense of responsibility into a child, but I want my children to
want
to do it out of love and respect.”

“What about your wife? She is happy, only giving birth to girls?”

He sighed. “Wei loves our daughters, too. But she, like all mothers, still hopes to have a son. When Chai was born, she was very disappointed. But she got over it, and when our little Luci came, Wei was resigned to the reality she may never have a boy.”

Jun remembered the day Wei had given birth to Chai, and the deep sadness his wife could not conceal. Everyone waiting outside had quickly returned to their homes at the news the baby was a girl, their congratulations dissolving before being spoken. After only a split second of disappointment, Jun had fallen head over heels for the baby girl that had been created from the love he and Wei shared.

Looking over at her furrowed brow, Jun could see his answers were hard for Ruju to accept. By the circumstances surrounding where he had met her, he was aware that she had been treated badly because she was not born a male. He felt sorry for her, but there was nothing he could say to ease her mind.

Ruju changed the subject. “So, when we get to Sandu’ao, we must stay the night there and wait until morning to climb to the village.”

Jun narrowed his eyes at her. “
Weishenme?
Why not go tonight?”

“Because of many reasons. One being that it will soon get dark. The other reason is I am not even sure if you can make the climb. Perhaps I will need to go alone.”

Jun laughed. “You have to be kidding me. You think
I
am too old and fragile? Do you know what I do for a living, girl?”

“No, and I didn’t say you were fragile. But you
are
kind of old.”

“Compared to you, maybe. Listen, Ruju. I am not proud of it, but I work as a laborer. I haul bricks from one pile to another. I clean up huge messes of construction. I build scaffolding for the painters. I drywall apartment walls of huge complexes. You name it, and I do it. Believe me; I can handle a little stroll up a mountain. I am only thirty-five years old—far from what I consider an
old man
.” He flexed his muscle to show her his sturdiness.

Ruju watched him quietly. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. But we go in the morning—and only if Keso changes course like it’s supposed to. The path is too treacherous for evening climbs. This I insist.”

“
Hao de
, Ruju. You win that one. We’ll get a hotel room.”

Two hours later, the driver stopped in front of a small hotel in the tiny coastal village of Sandu’ao. Jun and Ruju climbed out, anxious to be on solid ground again. The small car ride had been even worse than the bus ride, the road full of deep potholes and mud bogs. The tiny vehicle was so close to the ground that they had been bumped and thrown around until they were both sore. The splashing from the mud puddles had at times reached their feet, and they were both soiled and wet. At each lurch, the driver had guffawed and thrown apologies behind him as he fought to get his vehicle under control.

The only enjoyable part of the trip was the show of scenery they were treated to, mostly of artistically laid rice plateaus and high mountains. Jun was mesmerized by the village of floating houses in the bay. Behind the dwellings stretched miles and miles of fishing nets and cages that could be seen from his perch on the backseat. With the backdrop of the magnificent sea stretched
behind it, the floating village had created quite a picture and almost made up for the misery of the travel. He wondered about the people who lived the fishing life.
Were their lives easier? Simpler than his? Or were their lives just as hard but in a different kind of way?

As Ruju collected their bags, Jun paid the taxi driver. They stepped out, and the man took off again, in search of customers to take back the way they had come.

Inside the hotel, the desk clerk was sound asleep on a pull-out cot behind the desk. Jun rapped on the counter with his knuckle until the young man jumped up, disoriented for a moment. As Ruju covered her mouth to hide her amusement, the clerk pulled himself together and tried to smooth the wrinkles from his crumpled uniform. He gave up and asked to see Jun’s identification, and then took his money for one room with two small beds.

Ruju followed behind him as he climbed the stairs to the third floor.

“Look at all these cigarette holes in the carpet.” She
tsk
ed behind him.

“I just hope we don’t burn up alive in here,” Jun answered, out of breath at the last landing.

“Well, you smoke, right?” She pointed to the pack of cigarettes peeking out of his front shirt pocket.

“Yeah, but I don’t throw my lit cigarettes down on the floor, especially not on carpet.” He found the room labeled 303 and fumbled with the key, then opened the door. Inside the room he looked around to find just what he expected—a shabby room with exactly what he paid for. Two beds, a small table between them, and nothing else.

Ruju groaned. “
Mei you weishengjian.
”

“Yes, they do have a bathroom. I saw it just down the hall.” Jun threw his bag on the bed and sat down beside it. He reached for one of his feet and began to knead it.

“Do you want a foot massage?” She plopped down on the bed, already studying her fingers.

He looked up at the girl. “Ruju, no. I do not want a foot massage. You don’t have to do that. You’re doing enough to help me by escorting me to the village.” He didn’t want her to think he was some old man, out to take advantage of her youth. “And that reminds me, we need to talk about your future. You can’t be working in a massage house for the rest of your life. Don’t you have any other options?”

“Foot massage half price?” She joked and laughed as she pulled some clean clothing from her bag. “I’m going to wash up, Lao Jun. We can talk about my
future
later. I suppose we’re going to go out for some dinner, right?”

Jun sighed and leaned back on the pillow from his bed. He was so tired. “
Hao de.
I’ll wash up when you come back, and then we’ll go. And stop chewing on your fingers, already!”

He hoped they could find a cheap meal. He still had to make sure he had enough cash to get them home. “
Wo hen lei.
”

He murmured that he was tired and closed his eyes. He heard the door open and softly shut behind Ruju. He thought briefly about calling to check in with Wei, but he knew their conversation would most likely consist of dead silence between them or be uncomfortable at best. He hoped his youngest daughter was being well cared for by the neighbors while Wei was working. His last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep were of Chai and what she might be doing at that exact moment.

C
hai finished scrubbing the rice cooker and wiped the counters down. She stacked the clean bowls up and put them in their place. Mother had let her out of the room hours before and told her to get to work. She had to weave in and out of all the mourners to even get to her tasks—and the word had spread about her best friend being accused, which made her the target of several tongue-lashings and dirty looks. The people from nearby houses pulled up in their boats, and some huddled under umbrellas on the deck, looking miserable in the bad weather. If not for Josi being out there somewhere, she would have been grateful for the rain because at least it probably kept away some of the villagers.

Through it all she had kept her head held high and refused to let anyone know how upset she was. She wished she could tell them that their cries were wasted on Bo, that he had been a mean-spirited, hateful bully. But she kept her mouth shut and did her work.

Despite her nearly paralyzing fatigue, she had managed to clean the house and organize all of the food brought by the neighbors for their evening meal. She was tired—so very tired—and
hungry, but she knew she was skating on thin ice; and until she could find a way to go look for Josi, she needed to do what she was told. Otherwise they’d only keep her locked away, and she’d never have a chance to escape.

Tao passed behind her and whispered, “Need to talk to you tonight.”

Chai didn’t turn or acknowledge him, and he continued across the room and out the door to sit with his grieving father. She was still furious at him, because he surely knew more than he was saying. The entire story he gave them was too unbelievable, no matter how much he continued to repeat it. She stood by her belief that Josi would never leave willingly with Bo—or anyone else, if it meant she had to leave Chai behind.

“Chai. Sit down and eat before you fall down.” Mother came into the kitchen and laid her hand on Chai’s shoulder. “I’ll bathe the boys tonight.”

“You? You cannot bathe them. What about your stomach?” Chai looked down at the band wrapped tightly around the woman’s abdomen—another chore she had been made to do when she was allowed out of her room.

“Don’t worry about that. After you eat, go clean up that mess in your room. Everyone should be leaving in the next few minutes. You’ll need to remove everything and mop up the ashes. I’ll get you some clean bedding. It’s even older than what you had before, but it will keep you warm.” She patted her arm gently. “And Chai, tomorrow we have to plan the funeral for Bo...”

Mother paused and swallowed back a fresh sob. “But after that, I’ll see what I can do about finding Josi. Let me talk to Zhongfu. Like you, I do not believe Josi murdered my son. That girl doesn’t have a mean bone in her little body. Something has
happened that we do not understand, and I’m worried about her being out in this storm alone.”

Much to Chai’s embarrassment, her eyes filled with tears at the unexpected kindness from the woman. She bowed her head to hide the emotion from Mother. She couldn’t stop thinking of Josi, but she had tried to put aside the thoughts of their wrecked room. Besides the loss of the bedding and the books borrowed from Tao, the disastrous condition of the little space she and Josi had made their own was hard to think about. They were back to nothing again—or at least
she
was back to nothing.

Josi was gone.
I will not let them see me crumble.
She sucked her breath in to hold back the crying that threatened to come, and she took her bowl of rice to the table.

J
un’s ragged breaths came faster and faster. He finally stopped and leaned against a tree. “Let’s stop for a minute, Ruju.”

Ruju turned around and came back to join Jun. She dropped her bag on the ground and sat atop it. “
Hao de.
I’m tired, too. I told you this was a treacherous hike.” Other than one old, wet farmer leading a goat down the rocky path, they had seen no other people, and to make matters worse, the rain continued to fall.

“I’ll be fine once I catch my breath. It’s just steeper than I expected.” He took the bottle of water from his bag, opened it, and took a long swig. He held it out to the girl.

“I’ve still got some. Thanks.” She got her own bottle out and took a quick sip. “You know, it’s starting to rain harder. Maybe we should go back down to the hotel and wait until the weather clears.”

Jun ignored her suggestion and looked out over the mountain. “What are those buildings down there?” He pointed below.

“You didn’t see those when we went through the town? It’s an old church and nunnery, built way back in the nineteen hundreds.”

“Hmm. It sure is huge. Do they still use it?”

“My
nai nai
told me that it’s a shelter for misplaced people now.”