Benfu was exhausted. Though he’d stayed late the night before, no agreement could be made and he’d been forced to leave Lily there all night. But now they were back, having arrived just before daybreak, after he and Calli had lain awake all night, worrying and trying to figure out what to do. He’d tried to sleep, he knew he needed the rest, but he just couldn’t get past the thought that he’d failed Lily—she’d had to stay the entire night above him in that cold room. He felt horrible about it.
Calli squeezed his hand under the scarred wooden table as the official once again lectured him on signing the agreement that would grant Lily’s release. He could feel his wife trembling and he worried for her health. Across from them, Lao Gong, his old friend, watched every move with eagle eyes, taking his role as an adviser seriously. Beside him, Benfu’s father, Lao Zheng, also sat loaning his emotional support to the situation. He’d brought both his father and his old friend because at one time, they’d both had many connections. Even though they were now elderly, sometimes those connections could still help move things along and he was willing to try anything.
They’d been brought to the same small room, and the air was still stifling and stale with the scent of filth and nicotine. Benfu tried to suppress the urge to cough and he hated that he’d even brought Calli to such a place, but she’d insisted on returning to the hospital with him. Unfortunately the same official was there to meet them.
This time Delun had banned Ivy from the room and she waited in the lobby. The evening before she had even refused to go home with him, preferring to stand by her promise to Lily that she wasn’t leaving. He had to get stern with her to finally get her into a taxi and she didn’t speak to him all the way home.
Delun lit another cigarette and thumped his finger on the top document. “She is already set to be delivered to the reeducation center. Once she is signed in there, the length of her stay will depend on her compliance and willingness to renounce Falun Gong. But if you sign this, I can arrange for her to be kept here in the psychiatric ward at the hospital for a short time instead.”
Benfu weighed the options—a short time in the hospital versus a stint in their reeducation center, which amounted to either a brainwashing facility or a prison, from what he’d heard.
He didn’t particularly like either choice. He wanted his daughter back under his protection immediately. He reached across the table to pull the papers closer, but Lao Gong put his hand out and stopped him.
“Benfu, don’t do it. It’s basically acknowledging that she is a Falun Gong practitioner. And we all know she’s not. If you sign it, it’ll remain on her private file forever and she’ll be persecuted in whatever she does in the future—schools, jobs, even if one day she tries to buy her own home.”
Benfu looked at Calli, then at his father. This time their names weren’t opening any doors. Delun hadn’t blinked an eye when he’d introduced them. But they had given him good advice on the way over, and one useful tidbit was for him not to mention Sky’s name or acknowledge that they even knew him.
Now the man tapped his dirty nails against the tabletop. “You have to decide now. I’m tired of trying to help you people. I need to wrap up her paperwork and confirm her transfer or her stay here. What’s your decision?”
Benfu looked back to Calli. How could he decide? Either way, Lily would be terrified. Should he take his chances and sign the documents that would keep her in the hospital, but might brand her forever as a counter-revolutionary? Or continue to deny the charges and hope she could get in and out of the reeducation center unscathed? He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to reach across the table and put his hands around the filthy swine who had trumped up the bogus charges against his daughter. He’d heard of this happening more and more to the people, but never had he dreamed such a thing could touch his own family.
“Benfu, what should we do?” Calli asked, bringing him out of his murderous thoughts.
He shook his head. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say which one was better. What if by his choice, something happened to her?
Delun snorted in contempt. “She was with a man who had previously been arrested for distributing Falun Gong materials. There is no doubt she was involved.”
“She was
not
involved!” Benfu slammed his fist on the table and everyone jumped.
His father stood and put his hand on Benfu’s shoulder. The official sat straighter in his chair and waited. Even as an old man, Lao Zheng still garnered respect.
“Benfu, my son, I know you are struggling and I will take this burden from you. I’ll make the decision.” He looked down at Benfu, his head cocked questioningly.
Benfu felt relief wash over him. He nodded to his father.
Lao Zheng pulled his shoulders back and raised his chin a notch. “We will not sign anything that says Zheng Lily is involved in Falun Gong. My granddaughter has done nothing wrong and we demand her release immediately.”
Delun stubbed his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. He reached out and pulled the papers back toward him, then picked them up and shuffled them into a neat pile. He scooted his chair back and the screech of the legs on the ceramic tiles made Benfu jump.
A smirk of self-satisfaction spread across his face. “Then you’ve decided her fate. She’ll be transported to the Jiangsu Provincial Reeducation Center,” Delun said.
Beside him Calli began to sob and Benfu gathered her close. He wanted to stand and demand someone listen to them—to see reason—but he knew that from his position as no more than a street scavenger and no direct connection with anyone of authority, he would be lucky if he wasn’t thrown in jail for disrespect. He looked up and met his father’s eyes. He didn’t have to even speak his question; his father knew he was asking if there was anything more they could do.
“Calli, please don’t cry. I’ll see who I can call to help us get her out of here.” Lao Gong reached over and patted Calli’s shoulder. “This isn’t over yet.”
“Can we see her again?” Benfu asked. He wanted to explain to Lily what was happening and why she wasn’t coming home yet. He knew it would be a hard conversation, but she deserved to know from him.
“
Bu
. No more visits until she is fully processed.” Delun turned to leave.
“Wait!” Lao Zheng put his hand up to stop the official from going out the door. Benfu wondered what else he could say.
The official halted.
“By law you have to give us any of our granddaughter’s possessions that she cannot take with her to the reeducation center. She brought in a violin and you need to turn that over to us at this time,” Lao Zheng demanded, glaring at Delun.
Benfu had forgotten all about the violin. He was glad his father had thought of it, as he knew how much it meant to Lily.
“I know nothing about a violin,” Delun said.
Benfu stood and helped Calli out of her chair. “Then you’d better bring down the hospital administrator, because we aren’t leaving without it. The violin isn’t worth much, but it’s a family heirloom.”
His father nodded. “Yes, a family heirloom and one we will not let your staff’s sticky fingers get ahold of.”
Delun stomped out of the room, almost running into Ivy on the other side of the door.
“I’ll see what I can find out but I’m not spending all day looking for any secondhand junk,” he called behind him as he went down the hall. “I’ve been here all night and I have a wife and son at home waiting for me, you know.”
Benfu led Calli out and the others followed them.
Ivy pulled on Benfu’s sleeve. “What did he say? Is he going to get Lily and let her go with us?”
He looked at her and put his hands on her shoulders.
“No, Ivy. She can’t come with us right now. They’re transferring her to another location.”
He watched as the emotions played across her face and the air seemed to deflate out of her. His heart broke for her; he knew she was still carrying the guilt that she’d left her sister alone in the park.
“Come on, Ivy. Let’s sit down for a minute.” Calli put her arm around Ivy and led her back to the row of green plastic chairs.
Benfu pressed his knuckles to his temples and rubbed. He could feel a heavy headache coming on.
“Benfu, you’ve done all you can do for now,” his father said.
“I’ll start making some calls as soon as we get out of here—see if I can catch anyone before they leave for the weekend,” Lao Gong added. “But everyone will be back in their offices on Monday. Maybe we can pull some strings.”
Benfu realized he was right; it wasn’t over yet. And Linnea had also told him that Jet was doing his best to contact his father to see if he could help. The man still held a position in the local branch of government. Though it wasn’t a part of the Criminal Department of Affairs, perhaps he could still do something. He sure didn’t want Lily to have to spend the entire weekend there.
They all turned around when they heard the official’s loud stomping coming toward them from down the hall. Ivy jumped up when she saw he was carrying a plastic bag. The scowl on his face told them he wasn’t happy about having to hand it over.
“Is that Lily’s violin?” she asked.
Delun ignored her and handed the bag to Benfu. “This is all she had with her. And we’re taking her to the main Wuxi Township police station for processing.”
Calli put her hand over her heart and gasped. “What will they do to her?”
“Fingerprints. Photos. But she won’t go yet. Might be morning or it might even be a few days before we take her. They’ll do a chest X-ray and a cardiogram here before they let her go. They wanna make sure she’s not carrying any disease into the next facility. You never know, she might be blind from something that’s contagious to others.”
Benfu could see the spark of anger in Ivy’s eyes and he put his hand on her arm. When she turned, he handed her the bag with the violin in it, then addressed Delun. “So help me, if I find out that one hair on her little head has been harmed by anyone here or from your station, I’ll personally bring everyone involved to their knees.”
“Are you threatening me?” Delun puffed out his chest. “I can have you thrown in jail for that.”
Lao Zheng cleared his throat and stepped between Benfu and the official.
“Now, see here. You can probably understand my son’s concern. My granddaughter is blind. You need to take special care of her and make sure she is in a safe environment at all times.”
The official spat a long stream of tobacco on the white ceramic floor and turned to leave.
“All of you get out of this hospital now before I write you up for disturbing the peace.”
With that he disappeared down the hall. Benfu looked at everyone around him. They all appeared as devastated as he felt. But it was still early; maybe he’d be able to get Lily out before she had to spend another night there. He went to Calli and put his arm around her. She looked too weary to even move. He moved to help her out of her chair.
“Come on, Calli. We’ve done all we can here—let’s leave so we can make some more calls.”
He led her out the main hospital doors and the others followed quietly behind, even Ivy, who could be heard crying softly as she clutched the violin and bow to her chest.
I
vy opened her eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. It was too quiet and Lily wasn’t crowding her like usual. Then she remembered. She sat up and put her feet on the cold floor beside the thin mattress in their room. She’d had to spend two days and three nights without her sister and still her Ye Ye had not been able to find a way to bring Lily home. She’d marched back to the hospital with him each time, pacing the lobby as he negotiated, and they hadn’t even let them in to see Lily again! Her Ye Ye and his old friend, Lao Gong, had made dozens of phone calls, and her Ye Ye had been to see every official he’d ever made contact with over the years but no one would help them.
The nights had been agonizing for her lying in the bed alone, staring wide-eyed in the dark as she tried to send Lily messages of encouragement. It was the first time they had ever slept apart and after so many years of fighting for bed space, Ivy couldn’t wait to let her have all the room she wanted.
To be honest, she hadn’t gotten much sleep; since no one else could do anything, she’d decided she wouldn’t close her eyes again until she’d figured out what to do. It was well after midnight when something had finally come to her. Then she was so excited to have a plan that she couldn’t fall asleep for several more hours.
Now it was time to put her plan into place.
She slipped her feet into her slippers, then stopped to listen but didn’t hear any movement down the hall in the kitchen. It was still dark but she’d have to hurry if she was to get out of the house before anyone would know. She stood and went to the rod hanging on chains suspended from the ceiling. On it were the few outfits she and Lily shared. She reached out and touched their
fire sweater,
as Lily called it. It was the nicest and softest piece of clothing they owned. Lily had claimed it as her favorite when Ivy had told her it was red, her favorite color.
The sweater reminded her how much time Ivy had spent describing everything in their life to Lily. People’s faces, surroundings, and yes—even colors by comparing the colors to things Lily could actually feel for herself. She’d used the warmth of the sun to describe yellow, the coolness of water for blue, the softness of a flower petal against Lily’s cheek for pink, and even held her hand over the heat of a burning fire to describe red. So many things could represent a color. And Lily had long ago chosen red as her favorite because to her it represented the rush of heat and the excitement that always followed.
She pulled the garment off the hanger and slipped it over her head, keeping her nightshirt on underneath. She hoped the sweater would bring her luck. She was going to need all she could get if her plan was going to work.
She slipped on a pair of dark jeans and wrapped a scarf around her neck.
From the overturned barrel that served as their makeshift dresser, she took a brush and pulled it through her unruly hair. As she worked, she eyed the violin propped against the barrel. The instrument seemed to stare at her accusingly, until Ivy finally reached over and turned it to face the wall.
She needed to hurry. She didn’t have a mirror, but even if she did, she wouldn’t have cared what she looked like. She put the brush back, careful to make sure it was in its designated spot. Lily would scold her if she came home to find everything out of place. Or
not
find anything, because it was out of place.
She bent down and pushed the barrel up a few inches, just enough to pull her small silk drawstring bag out from under it. The bag was her and Lily’s secret stash—just a small amount of cash they’d saved from holiday red envelopes and small jobs.
She pulled out the money and separated a few bills. She picked up the fifty-reminbi bill and folded it in half. The twenty she folded in half and bent the corner. The rest of the cash she stuffed back in the bag and into her front pocket, but the ones set aside for Lily she slid into her back pocket. She hated to spend their money but this was an emergency.
They’d been saving to buy a real bed for their new room—a frame to put the mattress on and maybe even plump new pillows. She looked at the colorful quilt on the mattress and sighed. Bedding was something they wouldn’t have to buy because it was just perfect. Her Nai Nai had made it for them when they found out they were moving and would no longer be sleeping separately on the floor. The quilt was big enough for two and Nai Nai had used many different styles of material and textures to make it attractive to Lily’s sense of touch as well as visually appealing for Ivy.
Lily’s favorite squares were the soft silk and flannel ones, while Ivy preferred the tougher denim and corduroy squares. Nai Nai had even sewed in a few things for each of them. A corduroy heart over a square of wool for Ivy, and prickly stars made of threads around a velvet moon for Lily. A few squares even had pockets on them from their outgrown jeans and sometimes Nai Nai surprised them with candies or little notes tucked down deep inside. At night they liked to “claim their squares,” a game that usually helped them to unwind and fall asleep.
She thought about the tall institutional bed in Lily’s room at the hospital and wondered if her sister had really slept in it, or if she’d stayed cowering in the corner all night. Unfortunately, she thought she probably knew the answer to that question. She pushed the silk bag into her pocket, then went out of her room and crept quietly down the hall. At the front door, she hesitated when she saw Lily’s slippers placed so neatly in their usual place. She took a deep breath and pushed her feet into her shoes, picked up Lily’s cane, then froze when she heard a sound.
It was Jojo. She saw him shuffling down the hall toward his Mama’s room, tripping over his long pajama pants. Ivy held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t look up and see her.
But he did.
At the sight of her hovering at the door, he stopped rubbing his eyes. “Ivy? Where are you going so early?”
She hesitated. What could she say? If they were at their old house, she could say she was going to feed the neighbor’s chickens. But here—there weren’t any chickens. Not yet.
Jojo walked down the hall and stopped in front of her.
“Are you going to see Lily? Because if you are, can you tell her I miss her?”
Ivy smiled down at him. He was a cool kid. She put her finger to her lip to tell him to be quiet.
“Yeah, I am, Jojo. And I’ll be sure to tell her. Now go back to bed.”
He turned around and went back the way he’d come. Ivy slipped out. She looked around, a little nervous about being out alone before the sun had even come up, but she kept going.
She jogged up the long driveway to the street and stopped at an early street vendor setting out his wares on a large blanket over the sidewalk. He was arranging necklaces pulled from a box beside him.
“Excuse me, do you have sunglasses?” she asked, startling him.
He rose up on his haunches, surprised to have a customer so early.
“
Dui,
but it will be half an hour before I get to them.” He waved his hand over to another stack of boxes behind him.
“If you can get to them now, I’ll pay you fifty reminbi. I’m in a hurry.”
The man jumped to his feet and went to the boxes. He moved the first one out of the way and opened the flaps on the second one, reached in, and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. He handed them to Ivy.
They weren’t exactly like Lily’s, but they would do. She propped them on her head, then got her money out and paid the man. He held the bill up to the sun and examined it closely.
“It’s real.” She felt a stab of impatience. Obviously, just because she was a teenager, he didn’t trust her. Why didn’t people just judge individuals—not age groups?
He nodded, then tucked the bill into his shirt pocket and turned away, restacking his boxes the way they were.
Ivy hailed a taxi. The car screeched to a stop at the curb and she climbed in and slammed the door. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans. This was it. No turning back.
“People’s Hospital Number Seven,” she told the driver, then leaned back and took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure she could pull off her plan, but her fear wasn’t going to make her give up trying. Lily needed her like she never had before, and it was her responsibility to get her out of the mess she was in.
Almost an hour later after weaving through stop-and-go morning traffic, she climbed out of the cab. It was now light outside and more people were out and about, on their way to jobs, school, or wherever it was their day would take them.
Seven steps from the curb to the hospital stairs, then eleven steps on the stairs leading to the double sliding doors.
Ivy held her head high and walked through the already crowded lobby, passing by the girl at the reception window as if she were not even there. The girl barely glanced up.
Thirty paces from the double doors, through the lobby and to the elevator.
The path from the doors to the elevator was clear, no chairs blocking the way.
So far, so good. She went to the elevator and pressed the button quickly, then shoved her shaking hand in her pocket. She used her foot to slide the tall ashtray a few inches to the right, well out of the way of anyone trying to exit the elevator. With the other she held Lily’s cane close to her body. From the corner of her eye, she looked to see if there were any exits other than the front one, but if there were, they were well hidden down the long hall.
The elevator arrived and the doors opened. A couple shuffled out, a disheveled man holding a toddler as the woman pushed along the IV pole behind him, careful to stay close to her baby to keep slack in the line attached to the tiny bald head.
Ivy stepped aside. “Excuse me.”
She felt a quick stir of respect for the parents, poor but obviously sticking with their sick child rather than abandoning her to the hands of strangers.
She stepped into the elevator and held the door for the few people who’d lined up behind her. They all crowded in and she pushed the button for the sixth floor. The button had braille. She was impressed. Many city elevators didn’t. Lily had just started learning braille and so far she knew numbers, but that was about all.
Ivy didn’t look around after hitting the button, knowing the others would be giving her strange looks. What the sixth floor represented was well known, and in China most people didn’t talk about mental issues. Like physical disabilities, they pushed the subject under the rug and pretended as if it didn’t exist.
People reached around her and pushed the buttons they needed. No one spoke and Ivy tried to ignore the tingling in her toes and fingers. She opened her mouth slightly, trying to quiet the sound of her breaths. She wondered if everyone could hear her heart pounding as she could.
Finally the bell chimed and the faceless voice announced the sixth floor. The doors opened and Ivy took a deep breath, said a prayer that fate would go her way for once, then stepped out.
The hall was much louder than it had seemed before. She could hear crying over the noise of someone banging metal against metal. She looked to one side and saw a young man cowering in the hall, rocking back and forth with his face to the wall. Looking the other way, she saw the nurses’ station with a few nurses huddled around it and behind it. She crossed her fingers and started toward it.
Twenty-three paces to the station.
She stopped at the station, and the chattering nurses all quieted and looked at her.
“Can I help you?” a rounded, elderly nurse asked, her voice unfriendly.