“That was the message. Apparently my dad wanted her to check up on me, and she did!”
“So you’ve been skipping classes?”
“Only a few,” Jess said, in her defense. “Just the ones that conflict with my personal plans.”
“Jess
...
”
“Mark said that we’d be treated like college students. But apparently not on my dad’s watch.”
“So don’t cut classes then. Meet with George. Problem solved.”
“No way, Cece.” Jess began pacing the room. “I’m so tired of sitting through all these boring classes that make me want to poke my eyes out. A girl could go insane. And to tell you the truth”—she stopped pacing—“I’m tired of listening to my father. I need a life.
My life
.”
“Is he that bad?”
“Um, yes.” She flopped into her chair. “You want to hear a real stereotype about Chinese people? He’s a prime example.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means that number one, my dad sent me to violin and piano lessons before I turned four.
“Number two, at my age, the words
boys, dating,
and
drinking
are not in my vocabulary.
“Three, if I go to anything but an Ivy League school, I might as well stick the label FAILURE on my forehead.
“Four, when I graduate, I’d better become either a lawyer or a doctor. Or possibly a software engineer—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Cece said. “I get the idea.” She felt bad for Jess.
Then Cece drummed her fingers against the armrests of her chair, wondering if her birth parents would have been like that with her, too. “Why do you suppose your parents are like that?”
“You mean so freakishly anal about everything?”
“Sort of. It sounds like they want you to be a total overachiever.”
“You want to hear my dad’s answer?” She did an impersonation. “I don’t work so hard to come to U.S. so you play all day. You don’t disgrace family like this!”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. . . ” Jess got up. “Right now, I don’t even want to think about it.” She grabbed some things from her closet, including a pair of strappy shoes. Then she picked up her purse and headed for the door. “I’ll be at Lisa’s. Don’t wait up for me. I seriously need to go out.
Late.
”
“Jess?”
Jess turned as she opened the door. “Yeah?”
“If you need help with classes or whatever—”
“No, Cece,” Jess said. “I’ll figure this out on my own.”
“You sure?”
“Definitely.”
When Cece woke the next morning, she glanced at Jess’s bed. It looked exactly like she’d left it the day before. She sighed and got up, trying to put her roommate out of her mind. At least for the time being. Today, she had to finish planning a trip to Beijing.
At lunch, Cece showed Peter the itinerary from Jenny. “This doesn’t look good,” Cece said.
Peter took the paper from Cece and began to read it.
“I thought there’d be a least one chunk of free time while we’re there,” Cece continued. “But we leave Friday night, sleep on the train, get to Beijing the next morning, then we’re scheduled through ten P.M. And Sunday, we’re booked solid from seven in the morning until we take the night train back.”
Peter shook his head as he finished reading the schedule. “This can mean only one thing.”
“We go to the orphanage really early in the morning or late at night, right?”
“No, who’s going to talk to you then?” Peter said.
“Or maybe...” Cece thought about it some more, “we should postpone the trip until I have a free weekend. I think we have one right before our last week.”
“Cece, that is a waste of time and money to make another trip when you will already be there. I think this is very simple.”
Cece’s forehead wrinkled. “It is?”
“You must find a way to depart from this schedule.”
“You mean, like, disappear for a while?”
“That is correct.” Peter held out the paper. “You see here on Saturday, you will travel to the Great Wall, which is outside of Beijing, so it will be too hard to leave. Sunday morning, you will travel away again to visit the Peking Man site, but then—this is the good part—you will return to the Forbidden City for the afternoon. That is in the center of Beijing. So Sunday afternoon would be the time to go.”
“But how? I can’t leave without Jenny and Mark knowing. I’m sure they’ll be checking to see we’re all together as we move from one place to the next.”
“That is what we must figure out. I think you will need to be away for at least three hours to go to the orphanage, stay for a while, and come back.”
“I don’t know,” Cece said. It didn’t sound so simple to her. In fact, it sounded pretty risky. What if she got caught?
“We will definitely need more help,” Peter said.
“More help?” Cece said. “I’ve got you, Da Ge
.
What more could I need?”
“But I am not even supposed to be in Beijing, remember? If you are going to ‘disappear,’ you will need someone in your program to help you.”
Cece immediately thought of Will and Kallyn. Somehow, involving Will, given how much Jess hung around him, didn’t seem like the best idea. She’d ask Kallyn. “Peter,” she said, “I think that can be arranged.”
Later that day, Cece met Kallyn at a café near the university. It was a modern and loungey kind of place, and all around them students studied, surfed the Net, or chatted with their friends on velvet couches.
“So let me get this straight.” Kallyn leaned forward in her armchair. “You want me to cover for you while you go to the orphanage.”
“Yeah,” Cece said.
Kallyn frowned as she clasped a mug of tea. “Oh, I don’t know, Cece.” She took a sip.
“What?” Cece’s heart sank. How could Kallyn say no?
“Of course, I’ll do it!” Kallyn said. “Are you kidding me?”
“Man.” Cece let out a breath. “You had me there for a second.”
“You know, you really are amazing to do something like this. This is so
huge
.”
“Don’t get too psyched. Remember, I’m not expecting to learn that much. I mean, I’m hopeful, but it’s been ages since I was there.”
“Oh, Cece,” Kallyn said, excitement in her eyes. “I think you
will
learn something. It’s like what your dad says. You should see where you grew up for a couple of years. Maybe you’ll get your whole life back in a way, versus only knowing what you’ve known since you’ve been in the States.”
“Yeah... ” Cece said. “I guess you’re right about that. Now all we need is a plausible excuse for me to duck out of the program.” She took out the schedule and passed it to Kallyn. “You got any ideas?”
Kallyn studied the itinerary.
“Wait a second.”
“Yeah?”
“How come we’re not visiting the Olympic Village?”
“
Kallyn
, focus.”
“Oh, sorry.” She continued to read the schedule. “I’ve got it!” She beamed. “Did you see this?” She pointed at the paper. “Looks like we’re having a
special
meal at the hotel before we visit the Forbidden City.”
“And?”
“Well, we know how you are with certain kinds of Chinese food. I bet there might be an eyeball or two to stare at on your plate.”
“Ugh,” Cece said, cringing.
“Hey, and you might not even have to fake it! I’d be happy to babysit you at the hotel while the rest of the group heads to the Forbidden City.”
Cece smiled. “Kallyn, you are a genius.”
Chapter Eight
With Beijing plans in place, Cece was in great spirits when she changed to go to Peter’s house that evening for dinner. She hummed to herself as she decided on what to wear. Would jeans be too casual? Should she wear a skirt? She decided on a short-sleeve button-down and paired it with a khaki skirt. It was an outfit any parent would approve of. Pleased, Cece headed out of the dorm to the university gate to meet Peter.
Once they got in a cab, Peter tuned to Cece. “I am excited you will meet my parents.”
“So am I,” Cece replied.
“And I am thinking,” Peter added, “that you should ask my father your question.”
“What question?”
“The one about the one-child policy and China’s orphans? See what he thinks. He would know much more than me.”
“I don’t know, Peter,” Cece said. “It’s so personal.” But she had to admit it sounded like a good idea. Perhaps Peter’s father could give her more insight on the issue. “Would he really talk to me about it?”
“Yes,” Peter said, “my father will talk about anything.”
Cece smiled. “I’ll think about it.”
It wasn’t ten minutes more before the taxi let them off. When Cece got out, she noticed the area was similar to that around the university—the streets were lined with restaurants and stores, the sidewalks packed with people. They passed a couple of shops, and Peter stopped in front of one selling DVDs. “This is one of my favorite places.” Several patrons were inside browsing the shelves.
“Is this where you get American movies?” Cece asked.
“Yes. I like to call it my research library.” He grinned, then led Cece off the main street down a narrow alley. The din of the city quieted as they passed several residential walk-ups. The buildings looked so institutional—basic in design and constructed of concrete. Air-conditioning units jutted out of some of the windows, and laundry hung outside on tiny balconies. Up ahead, a stray dog sniffed at the ground, and from a few of the apartments, Cece could hear people talking.
Peter stopped as they came to a barred security door in one of the buildings. He slipped in a key and pushed it open. The door groaned from age, and Cece followed Peter up a dark stairwell. At each landing, she could see three metal doors with peepholes, presumably leading to apartments. Many of the doors had small bags of trash sitting beside them, waiting to be taken down.
When they got to the third landing, Peter stopped in front of a door, unlocked it, and they stepped inside.
“Ma, Ba!”
Peter called.
The smell of something delicious hit Cece’s nose—aromatic and pungent—some sort of meat and garlic maybe? They entered a narrow hall where light spilled from a doorway to the side, and at the end where Cece could see part of a room. Just a beige sofa with lots of cushions. She heard the sound of a cooking vent whirring and a TV blaring in the background. Peter’s parents probably hadn’t heard them come in.
A line of shoes were by the door, and Peter took his off and gestured at Cece to do the same. Then he handed her a pair of slippers.
Obediently, she removed her sandals and put on the slippers. “Is there a reason why we have to take off our shoes?” Cece asked. “Is it superstition or something?”
Peter laughed. “No, it’s because our shoes are dirty. And besides, slippers are more comfortable anyway.”
“So it’s not a custom?”
Peter gave Cece a funny look. “Is it a custom in the U.S. to dirty your floors?”
Cece’s face warmed. “Point taken.”
“Come with me.” Peter stepped through the doorway to the side. Cece could now see the inside of a tiny kitchen with plain walls and open shelves instead of cabinets. At one end of the sparse space, a small lady wearing a cotton shirt and slacks stood in front of a wok.
Peter spoke to his mother, and amid the commotion of her cooking, she glanced back, smiling at Cece. She looked so much like Peter, with the same narrow eyes and the sharp nose.
“Ni hao,”
she said.
How are you?
Cece stammered the phrase back. With only a few weeks of classes under her belt, she wasn’t quite comfortable with speaking Chinese outside of school just yet. She hoped Mrs. Lu wouldn’t notice how bad her accent was.
Peter’s mother nodded, then absentmindedly touched her hair. She spoke rapid-fire Chinese to her son, and Cece caught only a couple of words.
Go. Wait?
Huh? It was much too fast.
“We’d better get out,” Peter explained. “My mother is not quite ready. We should wait in the other room.”
Cece smiled at Mrs. Lu and left the kitchen, following Peter down the hall. They passed a few closed doors to the right. “Our bathroom and bedrooms,” Peter explained. They reached the room at the end, and a man was sitting in a rickety chair, facing an old TV set. In the corner was a table set up with bowls, saucers, and chopsticks. She guessed that Peter’s apartment didn’t have a separate dining area. The place was pretty small. As soon as Peter’s father saw them, he grinned widely and hurried to turn off the television. Cece noticed that Peter and his dad had the same smile, and for a fleeting moment, she felt envious of the strong features Peter shared with his parents. If only she knew what her birth parents looked like.
“Hello!” Peter’s father said. His voice boomed, filling the entire apartment.
Peter introduced Cece.
“Ba, zhe shi Cece.”
He turned to her. “Cece, you can call him
Lu Laoshi
. He is a professor at Xi’an Polytechnic.”