The Language of Threads (5 page)

“I . . . I don't have much experience doing domestic work,” Pei admitted.

Ah Woo smiled. “Many have come from the silk work, especially now with the Japanese devils swallowing up Canton. Nothing you'll learn here is harder than your life at the silk factory. If you can loosen threads from cocoons and unwind their silk in boiling water, surely you can draw a hot bath or launder a few clothes. Why, when I first came to Hong Kong, I thought I wouldn't last an hour.” She shook her head. “It wasn't an easy life. But there's nothing here you can't learn to do within the first week. We've all had to start at the beginning. You've already met Fong, who came here less than a year ago from the silk work.”

Pei swallowed the discomfort she'd felt with Fong, and asked, “Are there many servants in this household?”

“Too many! But Leen and I have been here the longest. We're too old for them to kick us out now. Chen seen-san is a very wealthy man, and can afford to have an amah to take care of his family's every need.” Ah Woo paused. “I've seen many faces come and go over the years, but usually there are eight or nine servants working here continuously. The three of us live in the
house full-time, while the others go home to their own families in the evening.”

Pei was astonished at the number of people it took to care for the Chen household. Even at Lin's house in Canton, there were only two old servants who had long been part of their family.

“And would I stay here?” Pei asked.

Ah Woo nodded. “Chen tai is a very busy woman. She's often invited to social events and her cheongsams must be ready and waiting for her. You will be the
saitong
, the wash-and-iron amah. Fong cares for Ying-ying, and Leen is the cook amah. Then there are the two drivers and Wing, the gardener. Two girls come in to clean every week, and I make sure the general running of the household continues smoothly”—Ah Woo smiled—“which is sometimes more difficult than you can imagine!”

Pei nodded, weighing another question. “There's something I need to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“I have a younger cousin whom I care for,” Pei began, thinking her request might carry more weight if Ji Shen were a family relation. “She has to come with me.”

Ah Woo's smile disappeared as she shook her head. “I'm afraid Chen tai won't be happy with the situation.”

Pei stood up, feeling the job slip through her fingers. “Then I'm sorry to have taken up your time,” she said.

Ah Woo placed both of her plump hands on the table and pushed herself up. “Let me see what I can do,” she said. “You wait here.” She gestured for Pei to sit back down and finish drinking her tea.

By the time Pei had walked back to Ma-ling's boardinghouse, her head throbbed and her legs felt weak. She stopped in front of the herbalist store downstairs and wondered if he carried the white-flower and snake-tongue-grass tea that Moi used to brew at the
girls' house when one of them couldn't sleep. Pei hesitated, then pushed the door open. It was cool and dark inside, the musty aroma of herbs and dried abalone immediately enveloping her. Leaves in muted black, brown, and green, dried orange-red berries, roots, and gnarled branches lay in open wooden barrels. Behind the crowded counter, rows and rows of small drawers stood against the wall. And in one of the dusty jars on the counter, Pei recognized two bear paws floating in a cloudy liquid.

“Hello?” she called out softly. Her voice echoed through the room and back to her. She felt a whisper of wind brush against her neck, and was just about to turn and leave when an old man appeared from behind a curtain.

“Yes, how can I help you?” His slight, wiry build and kind eyes put Pei at ease.

“I need some tea,” she said.

“Yes, yes, I have all kinds of tea. Medicinal or for drinking pleasure?”

“To help me sleep.” Just saying the word made Pei suddenly weary.

“Ah.” He slipped behind the counter and opened several drawers that Pei knew contained his magic. “Here we are,” he said, measuring different dark leaves into a white piece of paper. “And just a dash of chrysanthemum. You will sleep like a child.” He folded the paper and wrote “Dream Tea” on it in Chinese characters, then pushed the small package across the counter.

“Thank you,” Pei said as she paid the herbalist.

“After you've eaten. Before you go to bed,” he instructed.

Pei nodded. Then, as she walked out, he added, “If the tea fails, let me know. Every person is different. Fortunately, there are as many teas as there are days of the year.”

Outside the shop, Pei found Quan and his rickshaw parked near the doorway of the boardinghouse. Ji Shen stood by the door
speaking to him, curling the end of her braid around her fingers. When he heard Pei approaching, Quan turned and blushed.

“Hello, missee, I came by to see if everything was all right.” He smiled.

Pei smiled back. “Everything's fine. We're getting settled here.”

“Anytime you would like a quick tour of Hong Kong, I'd be glad to take you.” He glanced at Ji Shen. “Free of charge, of course.”

“I'd like to see Hong Kong,” Ji Shen said enthusiastically.

Pei saw the flash of anticipation in their young faces. “Thank you, Quan,” she said, reaching out to touch his thin arm. “We'll arrange something very soon.”

Quan grinned, then backed away slowly and picked up the wooden handles of his rickshaw. “I'd better go. Anytime—you just ask for Quan and I'll get the message,” he said, turning the rickshaw and gliding down the street before they had a chance to say another word.

Ji Shen's excited voice filled the air even before Pei closed the front door behind her. “What happened?”

“Let's go upstairs.”

Ji Shen followed her. “Did you get the position?”

Ma-ling greeted her at the top of the stairs. “I hope it went well,” she said.

Pei nodded, but led them to the sitting room before she'd say more. In the comfort of the old room she sighed, then looked at the two eager faces before her and forced a smile. “I begin work at the end of the week.”

Pei felt a gentle breeze stirring, the first bit of relief she'd felt from the heat since arriving in Hong Kong. She and Ji Shen always
left the window open in their small cubicle, despite the drunken voices, loud yet indistinct, and the sudden staccato bursts of music erupting from some Wan Chai bar. The past few nights the air had been so heavy, Pei thoughtthey might suffocate in their sleep. She had hardly slept, her pillow damp from sweat, straining to hear Ji Shen's short breaths keep a steady rhythm.

Tonight, even after she had drunk the herbalist's dream tea, Pei's wandering thoughts kept her awake. The prospect of her move in a few days to the Chen household and her new job as a saitong left her more anxious than excited. She glanced again at Ji Shen, whose pale skin glistened in the darkness as she slept. Pei would never forget the look of disappointment on Ji Shen's face when she found out that only Pei would be moving to the Chen household.

“I'll be good,” Ji Shen had pleaded.

“I know you will, but it's not possible,” Pei replied. “The Tai tai doesn't have room for both of us.”

Ji Shen stared silently, straining against tears. “What will happen to me?” she finally asked, a tinge of fear in her voice.

“You must go to school. You'll stay here with Ma-ling. Just until I can earn enough to get us a place of our own.”

Ji Shen had swallowed and nodded. For the rest of the evening, no matter how hard Pei tried to keep the conversation going, a dull haze surrounded them.

What Pei hadn't told Ji Shen and Ma-ling that afternoon was that Chen tai had agreed to let Ji Shen come stay as long as she also worked for her room and board. “Not heavy work. Just some cleaning and running errands,” Ah Woo had said eagerly. Pei felt the blood rush to her head. She needed the work and had little choice but to agree—but instead, she found herself saying, “There might be another place she can stay while I work here.” Pei was determined that Ji Shen have an education, and Po Shan Road was too far away from any public school. She felt certain that once Ji Shen was settled in school, they could work out a feasible schedule to see each other regularly.

Pei breathed deeply and swallowed the guilt of having lied to Ji Shen, the only family she had in Hong Kong. She watched the flickering lights and shadows dance against the walls, then closed her eyes. “It's a start,” she heard Lin's voice whisper in the night—a slight, cooling breeze against her cheek. Before Pei's thoughts wandered further, she was asleep.

The early-morning air still carried a hint of freshness. Pei shifted her scant bundle of belongings from one hand to the other and knocked on the back door of the Chen house. This time she was prepared for Fong's coldness, but was instead welcomed by Ah Woo, buttoning the last frog of her white-and-blue-striped tunic.

“Ah, good, good, you've arrived early enough to sit down and eat with us. It will give you chance to meet everyone.” Ah Woo pulled Pei into the kitchen. “Let's get you settled first. You remember Leen.”

“Yes,” Pei said, swallowing. “I'm happy to see you again.”

Leen nodded, then returned to her pot of boiling
jook
. Steam rising from the porridge filled the kitchen with the sweet smell of Pei's childhood.

“This way,” Ah Woo said. She led Pei out of the kitchen through a narrow corridor that divided into a number of small rooms. “These are the servants' quarters. My room is here.” Ah Woo swung open the door nearest to the kitchen. In it were a narrow cot, a small dresser, and a chair. “Leen's room is across from mine.” She pointed to a closed door, then continued down the hall to the last door, at the end of the corridor. “And this will be your room, across from Fong's.” Ah Woo pushed the door open and they were greeted by the sharp, scent of mothballs. Ah Woo waved her hand through the stale air and hurried to open the window.

“Thank you,” Pei said, entering. The space was modest; still, it was larger than the cubicle she shared with Ji Shen, and would afford her some privacy.

“Why don't you get settled? Then you can join us for breakfast. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll fit right in.” Ah Woo closed the door behind her.

In the short time Pei had taken to unpack her few belongings and lay out Lin's silver brush and combs on the chipped surface of the dresser, all the other household servants had gathered around the kitchen table. Pei stopped in the doorway and listened to the quick, sociable voices. She took a deep breath and entered to meet them.

Ah Woo jumped up from her chair and, taking Pei gently by the arm, guided her to the others. “Quiet, quiet. This is Pei. She's our new saitong, and will be staying here with us.”

There were soft murmurs of greeting. “You've already met Fong,” Ah Woo began, though Fong's sweet smile never gave a hint to her cold greeting the other day. “And this is Wing, who takes care of the garden.” He stood up and bowed with a smile, the same old man who had greeted Pei when she arrived looking for Ah Woo. Pei smiled back. “And lastly, this is Lu, our daytime chauffeur.” The thin, middle-aged man in a white shirt and dark trousers barely glanced up from his bowl of jook.

“Please sit down.” Wing offered Pei a chair.

Throughout breakfast, Ah Woo kept up the conversation and put Pei at ease as she explained the household schedule. “Each day begins right after our breakfast at six-thirty—sometimes before, if the Tai tai rings for one of us. Chen seen-san usually leaves for the office at eight o'clock, and drops Ying-ying off at school, while Chen tai lingers to plan her day. She is often out to lunch and mah-jongg until dinner. After they've had their breakfast, I will introduce you to them.”

Pei looked up from her jook with a nervous smile. From the corner of her eye, she saw a faint sneer on Fong's face.

After breakfast, the servants scattered to their respective duties. Ah Woo went upstairs to awaken the Chens, and Fong went to tend to Ying-ying, while the two men hurried out the back door. Pei, left dangling, rose to help Leen collect the bowls and clear the table. Only then, when they were alone in the kitchen, did Leen utter her first words.

“I've been here a long time,” she whispered, taking the bowls from Pei. “It's always safest to remain silent.”

Pei watched Leen's fluid movements; faint remnants of cooking stained her white tunic. “What do you mean?”

“I watch and listen.” Leen filled a kettle with water to boil. “Nothing escapes me. I've been here a long time,” she repeated. “For over twenty years. Before that, I worked for Chen seen-san's father. Now, he was a man of great dignity.”

“And Chen seen-san?” Pei dared to ask. She quickly cleared the rest of the table and handed Leen the last of the bowls.

Leen shook her head. “Not half the man his baba was.”

Pei began to wonder if she should remain silent in order to survive in the Chen household.

“And Chen tai?” Her words slipped out.

Leen's eyes narrowed as she carefully scrutinized Pei from head to toe. Seeming satisfied, she moved closer to Pei and whispered, “Chen tai has led a pampered life, surrounded by those who cater to all her whims. Many times this keeps her from seeing the truth.”

“What do you mean?” Pei asked, stepping back.

Leen laughed bitterly. “Not all of us are what we appear. I can see that you are a fast learner. Just watch out. In time, all truths are revealed.”

Pei felt Leen's words lie heavy in her stomach. Before anything
else was said, Ah Woo came back in through the kitchen door. “Everyone's awakened,” she sang out, only to pause when her eyes fell on Pei. “You look pale. Is everything all right?” Ah Woo's smile disappeared as she turned toward Leen.