Bitter Winds (23 page)

It was hard for Lily to concentrate on what was going on around her as well as the conversation, but by the time the bus had gone the four long stops and two short ones to the corner where she needed to get off, the guy had given Lily most of his life story. He’d competed in the Olympics! But now Dawei—the name given to him by his teammates meaning
greatly accomplished
—was retired. Lily had been astonished, then sympathetic as he’d told his tragic tale. At the height of his career, he’d competed and won bronze in the Olympics as a gymnast. But then a torn ligament had ended everything only a few years after it had started. Lily felt a rush of sympathy when he told her since then he’d been forced to live a life of performing and begging on the streets.

“So why are you on the bus?” Lily asked, still sad yet completely fascinated about his rags-to-riches-and-back-to-rags story.

“After mornings performing, I sometimes ride the bus all afternoon just to have a place to sit out of the weather. Other times I spend ten yuan to stay in the Internet café and surf the net. Today I hadn’t decided which I’d do—until I saw you.”

Lily blushed. She wasn’t sure who he was or even if he was some sort of criminal feeding her a phony story. But she had to admit she was flattered she’d caught his attention.

“What do you look like?” she asked.

Dawei slapped his leg. “I’m so glad you asked. You would not
believe
how handsome I am.”

Lily laughed. She thought about how many times she’d warned Ivy not to judge by appearance and here she was asking someone what he looked like. He was an Olympic hero, for goodness’ sake! What did it matter what he looked like?

“Didn’t you get any compensation from being in the Olympics?” she asked.

He hesitated, then spoke so quietly she had to lean in closer to catch his answer. From experience, she knew his sudden change in volume could only be for secrecy or shame.

“I did. But I’ve sold my medals, and the retirement compensation the administration of sports gave me was big at the time, but that has gone fast in the last few years. I spent some foolishly before I realized I’d become the sole supporter for my grandfather.”

“How big?” Lily couldn’t help herself, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

He laughed. “I don’t mind. Everyone eventually asks. They gave me sixty thousand reminbi. It lasted for a while, at least long enough to make sure we always had a roof over our heads until my
waipo
died. Now it’s just me.”

Lily could only shake her head at having access to that much money. Here she was on a quest to try to sell her violin just to try to earn a fraction of that amount. She wouldn’t share her story with a stranger, but if she did, she felt he might think it was just as far-fetched as his. Meeting him reminded her everyone has a story, with some more tragic than others.

“No more roof over your head?”

“
Bushi
. Just me sleeping under the stars each night, or wherever I find a safe place. I miss that old house we had—on Yellow Lane Street. I left a lot of memories back there.”

Lily thought of home and wondered if she should tell him to come by and talk to her Ye Ye about a room at Rose Haven. She knew they were full at the moment, as all the construction was still going on, but surely they could find him somewhere to sleep. But should they trust him? He didn’t sound like a teenager. This was someone who had been around.

“Ni ji sui le?”
she asked.

“I’m nineteen. And you?”

Before she could answer, the bus hit the brakes and the driver announced they were at the shopping street. Their talk was over. Lily stood and unfolded her cane.

“Have a great afternoon,” she said. At least he’d been a distraction and she’d barely felt her nerves getting the best of her as they’d talked.

“Can I walk with you? I don’t have anything else to do,” Dawei asked from his place on the seat.

Lily hesitated. If he came, Linnea was sure to see them together and it might worry her. But then, they all had to realize sooner than later she wasn’t a baby. If she wanted to make a new friend—her first ever, actually—she could do it and shouldn’t have to hide it.

“You can walk with me but don’t try to guide me, tell me what to do, or help me in any way. If you can manage that, come on.” She turned and began to walk toward the door.

“Kuai, kuai,”
the bus driver said, hurrying her along.

“I’m coming,” Dawei called from behind her. “And I promise not to say a word, even if you’re about to run into a raging ox barreling down the street. I’ll just keep it to myself.”

Lily smiled as she carefully climbed down the bus steps. When both feet hit the ground she heard the familiar sounds around her and felt a surge of triumph. She was on Linnea’s street. Dawei stepped off the bus and stood quietly beside her.

She’d made it.
On her own.
She only wished Ivy were there to share her victory.

“Can I talk now?” Dawei said from beside her.

Lily turned right, easily maneuvering around the large mailbox she knew was there. “Sure, as long as you don’t tell me where to go.”

“How would I do that? I don’t know even know what your destination is. You planning on doing some shopping today?”

That was a valid assumption, Lily thought.

As she walked on determinedly, the midday sounds of the city settled around her, bringing a familiarity she craved. Grandmothers cackled at their toddlers, shop owners hawked at passing people, and beside her the cars and trucks competed for space and blared their horns, creating a cacophony of chaotic impatience.

As they passed each doorway, Lily counted silently in her head.

“Five, six, and we’re here.” She felt the familiar rubber mat under her feet and knew she’d arrived at Linnea’s store. She put her hand on the door handle, only to feel Dawei’s hand cover it.

“You won’t even let me be the gentleman and get the door?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“It has nothing to do with sight or no sight. It’s called good manners—drilled into my head by my grandfather,” he added. “He’d turn in his grave if he thought I wasn’t opening the door for a lady.”

Lily dropped her hand and stepped aside. She felt foolish. In her stubbornness to be independent, she was making herself look ridiculous.

Dawei opened the door and Lily walked in.

“Lily!” She was greeted with Linnea rushing up and throwing her arms around her, so tight she could barely breathe.

Lily inhaled her familiar scent and smiled. Linnea represented safety and trust, something Lily needed to feel right now more than ever.

Linnea stepped back and Lily sensed her sister was looking behind her, taking in anything she could see. “What are you doing here? Where’s Nai Nai, and who is this guy?
Aiya,
did you come across town alone?” Linnea asked, all in one breath.

Lily felt a rush of relief. She’d accomplished something on her own. She could be independent later; for now she was glad to have her big sister take over for a while.

Lily rolled her shoulders a few times, then picked up another pod. Home sweet home. It was three hours later and she was exhausted from her adventurous day. She sat at the table shelling peas while behind her Linnea told everyone the story of her little sister showing up at the store with a tall, handsome stranger.

All around her she could hear exclamations of astonishment
at her new streak of independence, though her Nai Nai wasn’t so thrilled. Lily had only one consolation and that was her Ye Ye wasn’t home to hear the exaggeration from Linnea. But he would come later and Lily knew she’d have to answer for sneaking away.

“Lily has a boyfriend!” Peony chortled.

“No. I do
not
have a boyfriend.” She felt her cheeks redden. “He just wanted to walk with me.”

“I couldn’t believe it when she came through that door. But at least she let me escort her home,” Linnea said.

“Lily, I hope you understand what you did was dangerous,” Nai Nai said, her voice disapproving.

“But—I—” Lily started to defend herself, but Li Jin interrupted.

“Mama, Lily has to begin doing things alone sometime. She’s more than old enough to start having a life of her own.”

Lily smiled slightly. She knew Li Jin would defend her. Now she had two allies—Li Jin and Linnea. She went back to concentrating on the pod in her hand, searching for the string, then releasing it like a zipper, opening the case. She then used her thumb to push the peas, allowing them to fall into the bowl. She’d learned long ago to let gravity do the work, as more than the lightest touch would ruin their perfect shape.

“Yes, but she let some strange boy walk with her? He could’ve done anything. No one even knows of this boy. And why, Lily, did you decide to go to the store anyway?” Nai Nai said.

Lily heard her thump down the bowl she was kneading dough in for the evening noodles and knew she was upset. She could tell by the way she dragged her feet around the kitchen her Nai Nai was not only irritated, but tired.

“Nai Nai, here—let me take that. You go put your feet up,” Linnea said. “Maybe Lily just needed to get away on her own for a while. And I have to admit, her friend was really nice. He sort of reminded me of Jet—though definitely not from the same mold.”

Aiya, here it comes,
Lily thought. But at least it had moved the subject away from what she was really doing, and Linnea had promised to keep her secret about the violin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nai Nai asked.

Lily pushed the bowl of peas away and stood up. “I’m going to my room. But what she means is Dawei is poor. Really poor—as in homeless. But he’s still nice.”

“Lily, I’ll clean this up.”

From beside her she felt Peony take the bowl and bag of empty pods. Lily felt gratitude to her little sister for knowing she was at the end of her rope. She just wanted to be alone. She returned her chair to its proper place under the table and moved toward the door, her arm outstretched, reaching for the doorway. Almost out, a few more steps, she told herself.

“Homeless? He’s sleeping on the street?” Nai Nai asked.

Lily sighed loudly. “Yes, but before you offer, he didn’t leave me a number or any way to contact him. So even if you have room, we can’t find him.”

With that, Lily turned and left the kitchen. She was tired of the talking and teasing. She hadn’t had any luck with selling the violin. Linnea hadn’t wanted to leave Lily alone with Dawei, so she’d accompanied them up to her apartment to use the computer. Her new friend had scoured websites to find a quick buyer, but so far no luck. And the number from the stranger Lily had kept had turned out to be disconnected. She was back to square one with no other way to find the money needed to get Ivy released. Knowing she had failed made her feel as if her body had gained a hundred pounds over the last few hours—making her limbs heavy and awkward. And for someone who rarely questioned being blind, suddenly she felt like cursing the heavens for the predicament it had caused her and her sister. She bit back an urge to open her mouth and scream—and scream—and just scream. She’d never before felt so helpless and frustrated.

Holding her hand against the hall wall, she quickly covered the few feet to their room and closed the door behind her, just in time for a tear to travel unseen down her cheek.

She picked up her violin and began to play the song Ivy had declared her favorite. It was a sweet, slow song that made her feel even more homesick for her sister. Still, out of respect for Ivy, she finished it, then put the violin aside. She was going to go to bed, even though it was the middle of the day, and she didn’t want to even get up for dinner. What was there to get up for? She prayed she could sleep. Just sleep until Ivy came home—that was all she wanted to do.