The Scavenger's Daughters (Tales of the Scavenger's Daughters, Book One) (7 page)

“
Aiya,
the girl is quick,” remarked one of the customers over her shoulder.

Linnea didn’t look to see what stage Lao Joh was at; instead she picked up her tire iron and used it to pry the rest of the tire into place. Beside her she heard the thump of Lao Joh’s tire iron hit the pavement and knew he was right behind her.

The spectators—at least a dozen now—began to chant around them. “Go, go, go.…”

Linnea wasn’t sure if they were rooting for her or Lao Joh and she didn’t care—she just wanted to prove to him she was faster. Finally the tire was in place and she reached behind her for her air pump. Around her the crowd broke into laughter. She looked beside her and saw Lao Joh lunge for his, trying desperately to keep up with her. Linnea smirked, knowing the crowd’s chanting and amusement were making him nervous.

A few pumps and the tire inflated perfectly. Linnea threw down the pump and lifted the tire into place on the bike frame. From her peripheral view, she could see Lao Joh doing the same.

Her hands now shaking, she picked up the wrench and quickly tightened one screw, then moved to the next. Lao Joh began tightening his first screw and Linnea started on the second one, trying to hide the smile that lurked in anticipation of beating him. At almost the last crank of her wrench, Lao Joh
suddenly jumped to his feet and threw his tool down, narrowly avoiding hitting her with it.

“Go!” he yelled, pointing his finger at her. “Go away now! You are fired. From now on no girls will work for me!”

Linnea stopped working and stared up at Lao Joh. Neither tire was completely ready, so neither of them had won, but she knew she was only half a second from the crowd’s declaring her the winner. She also knew she should’ve let her boss win, but she was so tired of always being the subservient one—taunted for being a girl. Now she was going to be jobless, all because of her stubborn streak that her Ye Ye had always warned her to control.

Lao Joh had gotten angry at her before for silly reasons and she knew if she just held her tongue, he’d finally calm down. But as she waited, he stepped forward and shoved her. Linnea stumbled backward and would have fallen if someone behind her hadn’t reached out and supported her, then given her a gentle nudge to set her back on her feet. Embarrassed, she didn’t even turn around to see who it was, but instead straightened up, refusing to let Lao Joh scare her.

At his manhandling, the spectators around them stopped chanting. Gasps could be heard from a few and others showed their disapproval of his poor sportsmanship by walking away. Lao Joh stood glaring at her with his hands on his hips.

“I told you to get lost.” He glared at her, even angrier now that the crowd appeared to be turning against him. Though only a corner-bike-shop repairman, he took great pride in his small success and thought himself an important businessman. Linnea had learned long ago that any conceived slight against him would set him off.

“Lao Joh,
dui bu qi
.” Linnea lowered her head in an attempt at a sincere apology, her cheeks flaming with the indignation she tried to hide. “Please, don’t do this. I need this job.”

When she raised her eyes to see his response, he still pointed at the street, adamant in his decision. Linnea picked up her bag and that was that. She was officially unemployed.

Linnea stayed on the sidewalk, walking along the busy town street and kicking at the few pieces of trash that found their way in front of her path. She felt humiliated, angry, and scared. All sorts of ill feelings wrapped up in one heavy lump sat in the pit of her stomach. Her pride had lost her a good job—one she was good at. Lao Joh had refused her apology and told her to leave. She didn’t want to go home and tell Nai Nai what had happened. Even though she knew that her Nai Nai would probably comfort her and assure her it wasn’t her fault, she dreaded seeing the flicker of concern her loss of income would surely bring to the old woman’s eyes.

She stopped when she came to a low wall in front of the Bank of China. She sat down and pulled her notebook out of her bag, along with a pencil from the bottom. She flipped through until she found a blank page, then staring up at the majestic gold-flecked lion statues on either side of the glass doors, she began doing the only thing she knew would calm her nerves. She sketched.

A half hour had sped by as she stayed bent over her paper, making lions come alive under her pencil. The rapid movement of her pencil and the concentration on the lines calmed her and let her forget for many precious moments that she was in a tough predicament.

Suddenly she felt someone tug at her sleeve and jerked around. It was a tall guy and at first she didn’t recognize him. But then suddenly she remembered.

“You!” she spat at the stranger accusingly as he grinned at her. Her abrupt movement made his hand slide down her arm and rest on top of her hand. Linnea jumped at the slight tingle that climbed up her arms at his touch on her skin, then jerked her hand away. She wasn’t used to being touched by strange guys, even if they were cute.

“Me what?”

“If you hadn’t tossed me your lighter, I wouldn’t have made my boss so mad. Now I don’t have a job. And we have a month-old-baby in the house for
whom I had hoped to buy some milk powder today. There goes her milk powder and the bushel of corn I was going to get for a treat for my sisters. So thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“Wow, you’re going to blame me for all that? It looked to me like you were determined to show your
laoban
up in front of his customers. It’s not my fault he got angry. I was just there to see what was drawing such a crowd. And if not for me, you’d have landed on the concrete on that little round butt of yours.”

Though he kept his voice neutral and didn’t seem to be offended, Linnea’s cheeks burned at the truth he spoke. He had disappeared from her view for a moment and had obviously walked around to stand behind her. It really could have been his arms that caught her when Lao Joh shoved her so roughly. If that was the case, she was glad he had broken her fall, as she didn’t know if her pride would have withstood that much humiliation.

“You’re right.
Dui bu qi
.” She apologized and turned away from him.

She stuffed her pencil and pad into her bag and began walking. She’d gone only a few paces when the guy caught up with her again. He wasn’t giving up easily.

“Hold on a minute. No need to apologize. Tell me your name. Where are you going so fast?”

Linnea was irritated that even her rudeness hadn’t removed the smile still plastered on his face, along with an expression of determination.

She didn’t have anywhere to go, honestly. She no longer had a job and couldn’t go home yet. She was still trying to think how she was going to confess her mistake.

“I’m Linnea. And I don’t know where I’m going. Just going.”

The guy laughed and linked his arm through hers. Linnea almost pulled away but had to admit the sound of his voice was like a salve, soothing the ragged edges of her bruised dignity. She resisted her instincts, at least for a minute, to see what he wanted.

“Well, how about we
just go
together? I’ll buy you some breakfast to make up for throwing you into the fire, so to speak. You can show me more
of your work. I saw that picture you were drawing and you’ve got some real talent. Oh—my name’s Sur Li Jet. Call me Jet, okay?”

Linnea hesitated. The guy was not much older than she, but he looked like he was from another world with his smartly cut black jacket and polished shoes. Usually she was invisible to people like him. So why was he interested in her? She knew it was obvious that she was from the poor side of town, so his attention didn’t make sense. But before she could say no, he had guided her to the doorway of a local noodle shop.

He grimaced. “I know what you’re thinking—and yes, my parents are fans of Jet Li.”

Linnea shook her head. He was definitely sure of himself.
Maybe too much so
. “No, that’s not what I was thinking, actually. I was thinking I need to get moving and find a new job.”

“Please, Xiao Linnea. I swear I’m harmless. I just want to treat a pretty girl to a nice breakfast. And I might have an idea for how you can get a new job immediately. Spare just a half hour for me.
Hao de?
”

Linnea took a deep breath. No one except for her Ye Ye and Nai Nai had ever called her pretty before. And what could a simple breakfast hurt, after all? Or maybe just a cup of tea and then she’d leave. But would this be called a date? She’d never been on a
real
date before. Suddenly she realized she was overthinking everything and he was looking at her as if she were acting strange.

She exhaled slowly. “Okay.
Jet
. I’ve already eaten, but tea would be nice.”

Jet held his hand up high in the air. “Great. High five! Starbucks or Mr. Li’s Corner?”

Linnea tentatively reached up and tapped his hand weakly. Starbucks wasn’t on her usual list of shops, as it was reserved for the rich Chinese who could afford to pay ten times the usual price for tea or coffee—definitely not an option for her small pocketbook.

“Mr. Li’s Corner, if you don’t mind. They know me there.” She thought it couldn’t hurt to have just a measure of safety and to let the guy know it in case he tried to pull anything creepy. That was all she needed after the day
she’d had—and if he did feel brave enough to try something, he’d better be ready for a fat lip. She was tired of the meek act to let the men in her life get away with their macho ways. Her Ye Ye had raised her to be stronger than that.

“The Corner Shop it is then, pretty girl.”

B
enfu walked slowly back to the house from his long trek to the post office. He didn’t want to get home too quickly before deciding how to present what he held in his pocket. They’d received another postcard from the woman claiming to be Peony’s mother. His first instinct was to throw it away or hide it, but he couldn’t do that. It was a part of his daughter’s life—her history. It simply wasn’t his to throw away.

Yes, he and Calli had decided long ago to give Peony the postcards and let her make her own mind up about her so-called mother, but still he knew each word brought the child a certain level of grief that her mother had not come forward to claim her. This time, even without his glasses, Benfu could see the scratchy, barely legible characters that the woman had used to say she was going to be away for a while and unable to communicate.

With it still in his hand, he turned the corner and before he could even make up his mind what to do, there was Peony at the gate. She leaned over the metal rungs, her pigtails almost touching the dirt below as she swung herself back and forth. Benfu could still see the scar left behind from her hemangioma, as the doctor had called it. But she looked content. Unlike other children her age, Peony didn’t need fancy toys or games to entertain herself. She was easily placated with only her imagination and the warmth of the sunshine on her face. Once again he was struck with what a wonderful
daughter the woman was missing out on. And for what? If someone waited until they were financially able to have children—or in this case
keep
their children—there wouldn’t be much procreating going on. And if he’d managed to raise dozens of daughters, he didn’t see how the woman couldn’t take care of just one.