A Thread Unbroken (3 page)

Their efforts had brought them nothing but confusion. The girls didn’t know why the woman had locked them up, but they knew it couldn’t be good. Exhausted and hot, they had huddled together until they had fallen asleep.

“Chai.
Wo yao hui jia.
” Her lip quivered as she looked around at the barren room.

“I want to go home, too, Josi. I told you we shouldn’t have ever helped that woman. Now look at us—we’re prisoners.”

Josi began to cry, her tears rolling down her sweaty face.

“
Dui bu qi
, Josi. Please don’t cry. We’ll think of something. Do you have to go to the bathroom? I think that’s what that pot’s for.” She apologized and pointed to the chipped ceramic bowl in the corner.

“I’m not using that thing. I can wait until we get out of here.”

Chai looked around and saw the bags sitting in the floor. “Let’s see what all those bags she had us carrying have in them.”

The girls went over and sat in front of the bags. Chai took the first one and dumped it out. She picked through the things, calling out each one. “Rice cakes. Bottled water. Toilet paper. Towel.”

Josi sat back, uninterested. Chai dumped the next bag. “Flashlight. Batteries. Why would she buy a flashlight? Fan. A hairbrush.” She opened the paper fan, admiring the dancing girl painted on the back of it.

Josi sat up, fear clouding her eyes. “Chai, I know why she has those things. It’s for us—she plans on leaving us here for a long time. Oh, I want out!” Josi started to sob and pull her own hair.

“Calm down, Josi. If she left us these things, she means for us to have food and water. And look—it’s getting dark, but she thought of giving us a flashlight.” Chai stood and went over to the light switch. She flipped it, and her suspicions were confirmed: there was no power in the room.

“But what do you think she wants with us?” Josi asked the question aloud that Chai had asked herself over and over in her own head.

“I don’t know, Josi. Whatever it is, when she comes back I’m going to talk our way out of here.” She had her suspicions but she didn’t want to scare Josi any more than she was already. It was common conversation between her parents that girls all over China were snatched every day and sold into prostitution or other terrible things. That was one reason her father had never wanted to move the family to the city; he said it was safer in the villages where everyone could look out for one another.

She went back over to the window, and Josi joined her. Together they peered out over the parking lot, looking for anyone who could help. Chai saw the same old woman who they had passed in the stairwell, this time using her broom on the trash littering the sidewalk.

She pointed her out to Josi, and they both beat on the window. The woman looked up at them, then shook her head from side to side, seeming to tell them no. The woman turned her back and resumed her sweeping, her face hidden by the colorful scarf wrapped around her head.

“She saw us! Did you see that, Josi? She saw us and turned around the other way. She knows we’re here, yet she won’t help us.”

“Maybe she thinks we live here.”

“Josi, think. I didn’t see another person in this building on the way up. Except for her. I don’t think anyone else lives here. That’s why no one has heard us beating on the door.”

Chai knew that when apartment complexes were built, it was common for some of the buildings to sit empty until they each filled up with new residents, one a time. Chai feared that no one would ever hear them, for it sounded as if they had the entire building to themselves. Now, she knew, they were at the mercy of the woman. They could only hope she would come back and
allow them to leave. She settled herself on the floor again and reached for a rice cake. She was hungry, but she didn’t want to be too greedy—she didn’t know how long they would have to remain in the room with the small amount of supplies they had.

“Josi, here. Share this rice cake with me. We must ration our food in case the woman doesn’t return for a while.” She tore the dry, round cake in half and handed a piece to Josi.

“I don’t like rice cakes, Chai.”

“Well, you’d better learn to like it, Josi. Unless you want to go hungry.”

They sat quietly, taking small bites of their cakes and sharing one of the three bottles of water. Chai thought about her father and how disappointed he was going to be with her. She usually obeyed him, but this one time she hadn’t, and now she was paying for it. She wanted to cry, but she knew that if she cried, Josi would be even more scared. She needed to be strong for Josi.

J
un signed his time card and put it in the metal slot. Using the bottom of his work shirt, he reached up and wiped the thick dust from his face. He grabbed his empty lunch pail and left the foreman’s office. Weary from his long day of hauling debris and bricks, he slowly made his way down the path that led to the street. At the sidewalk, he stepped around a half dozen young men guiding an enormous tree ball into a freshly dug hole. The landscaping had begun, which meant only a few more weeks and the building would be finished and ready for the new business owners to move in. He marveled at how only three months before, the same piece of land had held smaller buildings that had been home to many families for generations.

He shook his head in disgust. So many memories wiped away so quickly. But when the government said to get out, people reluctantly listened. He was glad he lived in the relative safety of a nondescript village. He doubted the suits would ever come knocking on his door with the dreaded eviction papers and their measly consolation money, all in the name of “a bigger and better China.”

He wondered how long Chai and Josi had stayed at the canal, and he hoped his daughter was tired out and ready to go when
he arrived. Tonight he had promised her a new adventure in their ongoing stories of famous—and sometimes fallen—emperors. Jun formed the plot in his head as he walked, knowing Chai would expect a tale of mystery, danger, and drama.

If all went well, Wei would be at home waiting for them with a hot meal, but he wasn’t sure that was going to happen because sometimes his wife worked even longer hours than he. It could be hard on the family, but they were lucky—Wei had gotten a job as a housekeeping
ayi
in the home of a foreign family.

When Wei landed the maid job they were excited to be working in the same town, but then they found out that she would be located at least an hour from his work site, in the fancy expatriate community that had sprouted up when the city started booming.

It took Wei much longer to get home, making it his responsibility to look after their daughters while she was away during the week. He hated when she had to stay late to cook at her boss’s house, because he knew she felt guilty that her own family was waiting at home hungry, too. But like others in the village, they did what they had to do to make a living.

Twenty minutes after leaving work, he had walked through town and was only a few minutes from Josi’s house. Unlike most other villages that had succumbed to the frenzy of becoming bigger-better-faster, his village still had not allowed any of their paths to be widened to accommodate vehicles. If it wasn’t on legs or less than four wheels, it wasn’t coming into the village. Though Jun was always striving to better their lives, he wished to keep his family away from all that came with the onslaught of construction. He was glad not to have his home life soiled by the constant noise of motors, horns, and the dangers that vehicles presented. In the village he could shake off the stress of the city and relax.

Jun suddenly felt something in his stomach—a nervous flutter. He climbed the hill and saw both his house and Josi’s sitting side by side. Everything seemed to be in place, though quiet. The first of about a hundred or so houses, the two on his property were centered on the hill and surrounded by a low stone wall that created a protective courtyard for the children. The wall also enclosed chickens and other wayward animals that always found their way into his youngest daughter’s path. A source of irritation for him, his Luci was always begging him to let her keep the latest village stray. Other men in the village poked fun at him for what they considered weak behavior when he allowed his daughters to get their way with the requests, but he considered it good character that they cared about other living things.

Jun looked up at the houses. Josi’s place was lit up, making his own look even more sinister with the dark windows.
Wei must not be home yet
, he thought, and picked up speed to get to the neighbors and pick up his girls. He didn’t want to take advantage of their kindness, and he knew they had already minded his daughters for most of the day.

He didn’t mind another family living in the house that had been a part of his family compound for generations. In the old days, and still in many places, multiple generations lived together on property such as his—rows of houses hemmed in by courtyards, many adorned with smaller outbuildings that were makeshift kitchens and outhouses.

When his parents had died and the house stood empty, Shen had come around looking for a place to bring his wife and children and raise pigs. He told Jun he was tired of pursuing migrant work around China and wanted a place to settle. Jun was a bit leery when Shen explained he had been shunned by their families and had nowhere else to go. He didn’t elaborate but it only made sense
to let them rent the empty house and use the old outbuilding to make a pigpen. He told them if they could somehow get the proper living permits for the village, they were welcome to it.

It wasn’t much, just one of two simple adobe houses that had surprisingly withstood the ravages of time. Their roofs, once made of grass but now tarred over, were strong and never leaked. Jun was also proud that they had a gas stove to cook on inside their home instead of only a separate, small building like most in the village. They even had beds to sleep in, whereas some of their neighbors, in houses identical to those on his property, still slept on bamboo mats.

They could have had even more comforts if they chose, but most of their monthly income was put aside to save for the future of their daughters. They lived a meager life so that they could continue to pay for the girls to have at least primary educations and, hopefully, worthy weddings, one day.

He called out and then entered his neighbors’ home, only to find Josi’s family sitting around the table eating steamed rice and vegetables. His youngest daughter, Luci, sat eating with them, but he didn’t see Chai or Josi.

“Where’s Chai?” He didn’t bother slipping off his shoes—he wasn’t staying long and wouldn’t come farther than the entryway.

Josi’s mother looked up, her brow creased with worry. “We thought they were with you. They weren’t here when we returned from town, so we thought you came home early and took them somewhere.”

“No. They came to see me to ask permission to go swimming. I said yes, and then they left. Have you been down to the canal?”

Josi’s father, Shen, stood up and looked out the window. “They wouldn’t be down there now; it’s too dark. Maybe they’re with Wei? Has she come home from work?”

“No. She’d have a light on for me if she’d returned. Since she’s not home yet, I don’t expect her until much later. She must have had to make dinner for the town people.”

Silence filled the room as the parents contemplated where the girls could be.

“I didn’t see them return, but I’ll go check and see if their swimming clothes are hanging on the line. Then we’ll know if they were here after they swam.” Josi’s mother rose from the table.

Jun followed the short, round woman out the door and around to the side of the house where she hung clothes. The line was bare. Only a lone owl sat atop it, blinking his displeasure at their intrusion into his hunting time.

“They weren’t here; I’ll go to the canal.” The woman turned to go.

Shen had followed behind them, and he held his hand up to his wife to stop her. “They’ll be along soon, don’t worry. It’s not too late, after all.”

“Shen, it’s well after dark. You know Josi would never purposely stay out after sunset. I’m going.”

Jun cleared his throat to stop the bickering. “
Bushi.
I’ll go. You both stay with your family. First let me check my home. I don’t see any lights, but maybe they are there. If not, I’ll go to the canal. When I find them, Chai is going to be in serious trouble.”

“Yes, Josi, too.” She retreated back into her home to finish her supper, mumbling about disobedient girls, with her husband straggling along behind her.

Jun crossed through the gap in the hedges and entered his home. It was dark, but the moonlight flooding in through the windows and open door lit the area. He walked over to the lamp and switched it on. He could see no one was there, but he walked through the house anyway. He stopped at the bed Chai and her sister slept in. He looked behind their mound of pillows, hoping they were playing a joke on him, but he only found the stack of books Chai had received for the last Chinese New Year.

“Chai? Josi? Are you in here?
Ni zai nali?
” He called to them, but no one answered.