Tangled Vines (22 page)

A
fter a long ride to the area of Beijing near the Forbidden City, Linnea and Sky walked down the tight alley the driver pointed out and found themselves on a main street of what appeared to be a tourist area for shopping. All around were various bookstores, supply stores, and trinkets stacked on tables for sale. Old scrolls—which were probably reproductions, Linnea thought—were leaned up against the walls lining the sidewalks. Around them shoppers strolled along at a leisurely pace, taking their time to window-shop as well as stop at the various stands to bicker over prices.

“This can’t be right,” Sky said, looking around. “This is a shopping area.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with this area. I never have time for just exploring,” Mari said.

“Hmmm, well maybe we can ask one of the shopkeepers where the residential area is.” Linnea began walking.

A small man sat smoking outside a shop that by the looks of the shelves in the store behind him, sold signature chops. Linnea was pleased to know that she finally had her own chop—for in
China to be a business owner, a personalized name chop was imperative to approve transactions or any contract. The day Linnea
had chopped her name in the bright red ink on the top of her first agreement with the screen printer, she’d felt like a real adult for the first time.

“Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me where the residential area is around here?” She stopped right in front of him.

He squatted on a small stool, his knobby knees poking high into the air. He squinted up at her through the bifocals perched on the end of his nose. He was a tiny man, shriveled from age and at least eighty years old, so the loud, brash tone of his voice from such a little body took Linnea by surprise. “What residential area? The houses and shops are all mixed in together now. Have been for years, young lady. Who you looking for? Someone who owns a shop? If so, they probably live over the top of it.”

Linnea shook her head. “No, I don’t believe she owns a shop. I’m looking for Long Ni Xi. Do you know her?”

“She’s an old woman who used to work at the children’s welfare center,” Sky added.

The old man smiled widely, showing gaps where various teeth had taken flight over the years. He nodded his head up and down. “Of course I know Lao Long. She’s my sister-in-law—but her husband, my brother, is long dead.”

“Great! Where is she?” Mari asked.

Linnea felt a surge of renewed hope. She couldn’t believe their luck that the first person they’d run into was related to the old woman, and even luckier was that the woman was still living. Someone—or something—was definitely looking out for them.

The old man pointed down the street. “Why didn’t you say so? She lives in the
hutong
behind this line of shops. Go to the end of this road and turn left. Her house is in the next alley. Her granddaughter should be there with her. She can help you talk to Ni Xi.”

Linnea looked at Sky and they both raised their eyebrows at each other. So there
was
a separate residential area. The old man must be a bit senile. And she didn’t know why they might need help talking to the woman but they’d just have to see.

“Come on, you two. We need to hurry. I’ve got to be heading home soon. Bolin will be expecting his dinner.”

“Xie xie.”
Linnea thanked the man and they began walking down the busy street. Mari led, staying a few feet ahead of them. A half block or so later, Linnea stopped at a table outside of a bookstore and picked up a copy of Mao’s
Little Red Book
. She’d seen many like it over the years, especially since she’d begun treasure hunting to stock her own store, but this was one of the most authentic-looking ones she’d seen.

“You need a lesson in Mao directives?” Sky asked, jabbing her playfully in the side.

Linnea definitely didn’t need to learn the words inside. With her own generation of stubborn personalities, it was hard to believe that during the Cultural Revolution, the book was owned and cherished by most every Chinese person. To prove their loyalty, the Chinese memorized—and even believed—all of Mao’s words. It still amazed her how so many were fooled by one man and how many thousands of the people who revered him
eventually lost their lives early because of his delusions. His vision of a new China not only turned people against their own in an attempt to save themselves, but many families still struggled to overcome the damage done decades ago to their legacies. For Linnea and other lovers of old things, one of the biggest tragedies were his orders to rid the country of antiques and cultural relics. So much history had been wiped out with the command of a few words.

“No, not really. But this book looks really old. I wonder if it’s a real antique.” The book, unlike others she’d seen in cheap red plastic, was covered in dark red leather. Engraved on the front, it read
Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse Tung.

She flipped it open and read the characters scrawled inside the cover.
Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-Tung, first edition 1966.
She closed the book and turned it over in her hands. On the back cover it read
Long Live the Victory of Mao Tse Tung’s Thought
.

“Sky, I think this one is real and not a reproduction.”

A woman came out of the shop and nodded to Linnea. “You like?”

“How much?” Linnea asked. Even if it turned out to be a fake, her gut told her it wasn’t and she usually did well by listening to those inner feelings. She wanted it for her store.

“Yi bai kuai,”
the woman said.

“One hundred? No way, that’s much too expensive.” Linnea set the book down and began to walk away. Sky followed.

“You want me to try to get her to go cheaper?” he asked.

Linnea shook her head. “No, she’ll call us back. Just wait.” Linnea knew with Sky’s passive personality, he’d never get a good deal and she’d probably end up paying even more. She wouldn’t doubt if with just a few tears the old woman would have Sky handing over all this money.

The woman fell right into Linnea’s plan. “Come back! I’ll give it cheaper!” she called, her voice taking on a tone of desperation.

Linnea stopped and turned halfway around. She made a look of irritation cross her face. “How much cheaper?”

“You say!” the woman called, waving at her to come back.

Mari nudged her. “You might as well go back and get it. Otherwise you’ll be sad you didn’t.”

Linnea sighed dramatically and began to walk back. She hated the game playing of bartering but knew it had to be done. At the table she picked up the book again, looked at it briefly, and then set it down.

“
I don’t know. It’s kind of worn out. Maybe thirty is all I can go.” She looked at the woman, raising her eyebrows. The ball was now in her court. She could take it or leave it, though Linnea hoped it was the end of the exchange.

The woman shook her head. “No, no. Much too cheap. Fifty yuan. Last price.” She crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. Sky joined her.

Linnea smiled. “Okay. Fifty.” She pulled the money from her bag and handed it over, then picked up the book and dropped it into the opening.
“Xie xie
.
”

Sky linked his arm through hers. “Come on, Linnea. Stop bullying the shopkeepers.”

She grinned. If she was right and the book was an original, it would be worth far more than fifty yuan. She looked around at the other items peppering the tables and windows and wished she had more time to browse. Sky pulled her and they jogged to catch up to Mari.

At the end of the street, just like the old man had said, they saw the mouth of an alley. They turned down it and found themselves in a tight passage that ran behind the line of stores, separating the businesses from very old dwellings. Linnea felt like she’d been dropped down right in the middle of old China and was captivated by the scene. The houses were made of concrete with row upon row of red curved handmade tiles on the roofs. Each place had a courtyard like hers at home, but these were even smaller. It was evident that the living space had been taken up to make room to build more businesses. Even so, the chickens and small children running around, the colorful clothing swaying on lines in the breeze, and the smells of garlic and onions cooking showed them that the area was still well populated and fighting against the revolution of change as hard as it could.

She bumped Sky in the ribs. “Look at this, Sky! It’s hard to imagine that just on the other side of those buildings is such a busy shopping place. This looks like a page out of an old history book.”

“You should see one of the old villages close to the Great Wall, Linnea. I wish you could stay longer—I’d show you a lot that you’d find intriguing.”

Linnea wished she could, too. History had always been something that fascinated her. But this time she just couldn’t linger. Maybe she would have time to come back when they found Dahlia.

They passed a few courtyards before they saw a woman bent
over a large wooden bucket, scrubbing her clothes the old-fashioned
way, on a washboard. When the woman paused to push the sweaty hair out of her eyes, Linnea interrupted.

“Excuse me. Do you know which house Lao Long lives at?”

The woman was clearly out of breath from her strenuous scouring but she pointed down the lane. “The house with the big tree in the front yard.” She went back to work.

They moved along and saw the house with the tree. The branches of the walnut tree were heavy with unpicked walnuts. The house behind it was dark and quiet. They slipped through the gate and went to the door. Linnea knocked.

A young woman at least twice Linnea’s age answered. As she propped open the wooden door with her hip, she held a half-empty bowl of congee and a towel lay draped over her arm. She wasn’t unfriendly but her tired face told a tale that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to have company.

“I’m sorry if we caught you at a bad time,” Linnea said, “but is this the house that Long Ni Xi lives at?”

Her curious look turned suspicious. The woman nodded. “Yes, that’s my grandmother. I was just feeding her lunch. What do you want with her?”

Linnea and Mari both looked at Sky. This seemed like another moment for his charisma to come in handy.

He returned their look and then seemed to understand. He stepped forward. “
Ni hao
. My name is Sky and we’re from Wuxi. Is your grandmother the Long who used to be a director at the local children’s home?”

A shadow crossed the face of the woman and she hesitated for a moment. “Yes, that is her. Why?”

Linnea got so excited that she started to answer but Sky put his hand on her arm to stop her. “We have a few questions for her, nothing official, mind you. What did you say your name was?”

Linnea could see he was definitely turning on his charm and she let him go for it.

The woman blushed. “I’m Long Mei Xi. My grandmother is Long Ni Xi. Come in, but I can’t promise you she will feel like talking today.”

She opened the door wider for them to come in and they entered. They all slipped off their shoes and stepped forward to stand on the plush rug.

It took a moment for Linnea’s eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they did, she saw that what looked like a modest home on the outside surprisingly held many expensive furnishings. Amidst the tall vases, lamps, and artwork, an old woman sat up in bed, a bib tucked around her neck. By the sagging look of one side of her face, Linnea knew immediately they might not find out what had happened to Dahlia.