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御宅屋 > 其它小说 > The Joy Luck Club > Without Wood

Without Wood

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  rose hsu jordan

  i used to believe everythingther said, even when i didnt know what she ant. once when i was little, she toldshe k would rain because lost ghosts were cirg near our windows, calling &a;a;a;quot;woo-;quot; to be let in. she said doors would unlock theelves in the ddle of the night unless we checked twice. she said a rrould see onlyface, but shuld seei even when i was not in the roo

  and all these things seed true to . the power of her words was that strong.

  she said that if i listeo her, later i would know what she knew: where true words ca fro always froup high, above everything else. and if i didnt listen to her, she saidear would bend too easily to other people, all saying words that had no lasting aning, because they ca frothe bottoof their hearts, where their own desires lived, a place where uld not belong.

  the wordsther spoke did e froup high. as i recall, i was always looking up at her face as i lay onpillow. in those dayssisters and i all slept in the sa double bed. janice,oldest sister, had an allergy that de one nostril sing like a bird at night, so we called her whistling nose. ruth was ugly foot because shuld spread her toes out in the shape of a witchs claw. i was scaredy eyes because i would squeeze shuteyes so i wouldnt have to see the dark, which janid ruth said was a du thing to do. during those early years, i was the last to fall asleep. i g to the bed, refusing to leave this world for drea.

  &a;a;a;quot;your sisters have already goo see old mr. chou,&a;a;a;quot;ther would whisper in ese. ay ther, old mr. chou was the guardian of a door that opened into drea. &a;a;a;quot;are you ready to go see old mr. chou, too?&a;a;a;quot; and every night i would shakehead.

  &a;a;a;quot;old mr. chou takesto bad places,&a;a;a;quot; i cried.

  old mr. chou tooksisters to sleep. they never reered anything frothe night before. but old mr. chou would swing the door wide open for , and as i tried to walk in, he would slait fast, hoping to squashlike a fly. thats why i would always dart bato wakefulness.

  but eventually old mr. chou would get tired and leave the door unwatched. the bed would grow heavy at the top and slowly tilt. and i would slide headfirst, in through old mr. chous door, and land in a house without doors or windows.

  i reer oi i drea of falling through a hole in old mr. chous floor. i found self in a nightti garden and old mr. chou was shouting, &a;a;a;quot;whos inbackyard?&a;a;a;quot; i ran away. soon i found self stoing on plants with veins of blood, running through fields of snapdragons that gelors like stoplights, until i ca to a giant playground filled with row after row of square sandboxes. in each sandbox was a new doll. andther, who was not there buuld seei, told old mr. chou she knew which doll i would pick. so i decided to pie that was entirely different.

  &a;a;a;quot;stop her! stop her!&a;a;a;quot; criedther. as i tried to run away, old mr. chou chased , shouting, &a;a;a;quot;see what happens when you dont listen to your ther!&a;a;a;quot; and i beca paralyzed, too scared to ve in any dire.

  the i toldther what happened, and she laughed and said, &a;a;a;quot;dont pay attention to old mr. chou. he is only a drea you only have to listen to .&a;a;a;quot;

  and i cried, &a;a;a;quot;but old mr. chou listens to you too.&a;a;a;quot;

  more than thirty years later,ther was still trying to kelisten. a nth after i told her that ted and i were getting a divorce, i t her at church, at the funeral of a mary, a wonderful wo-year-old won who had played godther to every child who passed through the doors of the first ese baptist church.

  &a;a;a;quot;yetting too thin,&a;a;a;quot;ther said in her pained voice when i sat dowo her. &a;a;a;quot;you st eat re.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;ifine,&a;a;a;quot; i said, and i sled for proof. &a;a;a;quot;and besides, wasnt it you who saidclothes were always too tight?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;eat re,&a;a;a;quot; she insisted, and then she nudgedwith a little spiral-bound book hand-titled &a;a;a;quot;cooking the ese way by a mary .&a;a;a;quot; they were selling theat the door, only five dollars each, to raise ney for the refugee scholarship fund.

  the an sic stopped and the nister cleared his throat. he was not the regular pastor; i reized hias wing, a boy who used to steal baseball cards withbrother luke. only later wio divinity school, thanks to a mary, and luke went to the ty jail for selling stolen car stereos.

  &a;a;a;quot;istill hear her voice,&a;a;a;quot; wing said to the urners. &a;a;a;quot;she said god dewith all the right ingredients, so itd be a sha if i burned in hell.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;already cre-ted,&a;a;a;quot;ther whispered tter-of-factly, nodding toward the altar, where a fralor photo of a mary stood. i heldfiolips the way librarians do, but she did.

  &a;a;a;quot;that one, we bought it.&a;a;a;quot; she ointing to a large spray of yellow chrysanthe and red roses. &a;a;a;quot;thirty-four dollars. all artificial, so it will last forever. youpaylater. janid matthew also chip in so. you have ney?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;yes, ted senta check.&a;a;a;quot;

  then the nister asked everyoo bow in prayer. my ther was quiet at last, dabbing her h kleenex while the alked: &a;a;a;quot;ijust see her now,&a;a;lt;bdo&a;a;gt;..&a;a;lt;/bdo&a;a;gt; wowing the angels with her esoking and gung-ho attitude.&a;a;a;quot;

  and when heads lifted, everyone rose to sing hy nuer 335, a marys favorite: &a;a;a;quot;yoube an an-gel, ev-ery day oh…&a;a;a;quot;

  butther was not singing. she was staring at . &a;a;a;quot;why does he send you a check?&a;a;a;quot; i kept looking at the hyal, singing: &a;a;a;quot;send-ing rays of sun-shine, full of joy frobirth.&a;a;a;quot;

  and so she griy answered her owion: &a;a;a;quot;he is doing nkey business with soone else.&a;a;a;quot;

  monkey business? ted? i wao laugh—her choice of words, but also the idea! cool, silent, hairless ted, whose breathing pattern didnt alter o in the height of passion? uld just see hi grunting &a;a;a;quot;ooh-ooh-ooh&a;a;a;quot; while scratg his arits, then boung and shrieking across the ttress trying to grab a breast.

  &a;a;a;quot;no, i dont think so,&a;a;a;quot; i said.

  &a;a;a;quot;why not?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;i dont think we should talk about ted now, not here.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;whyyou talk about this with a psyche-atrid not with ther?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;psychiatrist.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;psyche-atricks,&a;a;a;quot; shrrected herself.

  &a;a;a;quot;a ther is best. a ther knows what is inside you,&a;a;a;quot; she said above the singing voices. &a;a;a;quot;a psyche-atricks will only ke you hulihudu, ke you see heingng.&a;a;a;quot;

  bae, i thought about what she said. and it was true. lately i had been feeling hulihudu. and everything aroundseed to be heingng. these were words i had hought about in english ter. i suppose the closest in aning would be &a;a;a;quot;fused&a;a;a;quot; and &a;a;a;quot;dark fog.&a;a;a;quot;

  but really, the words an ch re than that. maybe they t be easily translated because they refer to a sensation that only ese people have, as if you were falling headfirst through old mr. chous door, then trying to find your way back. but youre so scared you t open your eyes, so you get on your hands and knees and grope in the dark, listening for voices to tell you which way to go.

  i had been talking to too ny people,friends, everybody it see, except ted. to each person i told a different story. yet each version was true, i was certain of it, at least at the nt that i told it.

  tofriend waverly, i said i never knew how ch i loved ted until i saw how ch huld hurt . i felt such pain, literally a physical pain, as if soone had torn off bothar without ahesia, without sewingback up.

  &a;a;a;quot;have you ever had thetorn off with ahesia? god! ive never seen you so hysterical,&a;a;a;quot; said waverly. &a;a;a;quot;you wantopinion, youre better off without hi it hurts only because its taken you fifteen years to see what aional wi he is. listen, i know what it feels like.&a;a;a;quot;

  tofriend lena, i said i was better off without ted. after the initial shock, i realized i didnt ss hiat all. i just ssed the way i felt when i was with hi

  &a;a;a;quot;which was what?&a;a;a;quot; lena gasped. &a;a;a;quot;you were depressed. you were nipulated into thinking you were nothio hi and now you think youre nothing without hi if i were you, id get the na of a good lawyer and go for everything you . get even.&a;a;a;quot;

  i toldpsychiatrist i was obsessed with revenge. i drea of calling ted up and inviting hito dio one of those trendy whos-who places, like caf?majestic or rosalies. and after he started the firsurse and was nid relaxed, i would say, &a;a;a;quot;its not that easy, ted.&a;a;a;quot; fro purse i would take out a voodoo doll which lena had already lentfroher props departnt. i would ai escargot fork at a strategic spot on the voodoo doll and i would say, out loud, in front of all the fashionable restaurant patrons, &a;a;a;quot;ted, youre just su iotent bastard and igoing to ke sure you stay that way.&a;a;a;quot;wha

  saying this, i felt i had raced to the top of a big turning point inlife, a newafter just two weeks of psychotherapy. butpsychiatrist just looked bored, his hand still propped under his . &a;a;a;quot;it see youve been experieng so very powerful feelings,&a;a;a;quot; he said, sleepy-eyed. &a;a;a;quot;i think we should think about thereweek.&a;a;a;quot;

  and so i didnt know what to think anyre. for thefew weeks, i ioriedlife, going frorooto ro to reer the history of everything in the house: things i hallected before i t ted (the hand-blown glasses, the cra wall hangings, and the rocker i had reed); things we bought together right after we were rried (st of the big furniture); things people gave us (the glass-dod clock that no longer worked, three sake sets, four teapots); things he picked out (the signed lithographs, none of thebeyoy-five in a series of two hundred fifty, the steuben crystal strawberries); and things i picked out because uldo see theleft behind (the stched dlestick holders frogarage sales, an antique quilt with a hole in it, odd-shaped vials that oained ois, spices, and perfus).

  i had started to iory the bookshelves when i got a letter froted, a ually, written hurriedly in ballpoint on his prescription notepad. &a;a;a;quot;sign 4x where indicated,&a;a;a;quot; it read. and then in fountain-pen blue ink, &a;a;a;quot;enc: check, to tide you over until settlent.&a;a;a;quot;

  the note was clipped to our divorce papers, along with a check for ten thousand dollars, signed in the sa fountain-pen blue ink oe. and instead of being grateful, i was hurt.

  why had he sent the check with the papers? why the two different pens? was the che afterthought? how long had he sat in his office deterning how ch ney was enough? and why had he chosen to sign it with that pen?

  i still reer the look on his face last year when he carefully undid the gold foil , the surprise in his eyes as he slowly exaned every angle of the pen by the light of the christs tree. he kissedforehead. &a;a;a;quot;ill use it only to sign iortant things,&a;a;a;quot; he had prosed .

  reering that, holding the check, all uld do was sit on the edge of thuch feelinghead getting heavy at the top. i stared at the xs on the divorce papers, the w on the prescription notepad, the twlors of ink, the date of the check, the careful way in which he wrote, &a;a;a;quot;ten thousand only and s.&a;a;a;quot;

  i sat there quietly, trying to listen toheart, to ke the right decision. but then i realized i didnt know what the choices were. and so i put the papers and the check away, in a drawer where i kept storupons which i hrew away and which i never used either.

  my ther ooldwhy i was so fused all the ti. she said i was without wood. born without wood so that i listeo too ny people. she khis, because once she had alst bee this way.

  &a;a;a;quot;a girl is like a young tree,&a;a;a;quot; she said. &a;a;a;quot;you st stand tall and listen to your ther standio you. that is the only way to grow strong and straight. but if you bend to listen to other people, you will grow crooked and weak. you will fall to the ground with the first strong wind. and then you will be like a weed, growing wild in any dire, running along the ground until soone pulls you out and throws you away.&a;a;a;quot;

  but by the ti she toldthis, it was too late. i had already begun to bend. i had started going to school, where a teacher nad mrs. berry lined us up and rched us in and out of roo, up and down hallways while she called out, &a;a;a;quot;boys and girls, follow .&a;a;a;quot; and if you didnt listen to her, she would ke you bend over and whack you with a yardstick ten tis.

  i still listeother, but i also learned how to let her words blow through . and sotis i fillednd with other peoples thoughts—all in english—so that when she looked ati, she would be fused by what she saw.

  over the years, i learo choose frothe best opinions. ese people had ese opinions. ari people had ari opinions. and in alst every case, the ari version was ch better.

  it was only later that i dvered there was a serious flaw with the ari version. there were too ny choices, so it was easy to get fused and pick the wrong thing. thats how i felt aboutsituation with ted. there was so ch to think about, so ch to decide. each deeant a turn in another dire.

  the check, for exale. i wondered if ted was really trying to trick , to getto adt that i was giving up, that i wouldnt fight the divorce. and if i cashed it, he ght later say the aunt was the whole settlent. then i got a little seal and igined, only for a nt, that he had seen thousand dollars because he truly loved ; he was tellingin his own way how ch i ant to hi until i realized that ten thousand dollars was nothing to hi that i was nothing to hi

  i thought about putting ao this torture and signing the divorce papers. and i was just about to take the papers out of thupon drawer when i reered the house.

  i thought to self, i love this house. the big oak door that opens into a foyer filled with stained-glass windows. the sunlight in the breakfast roo the south view of the city frothe front parlor. the herb and flarden ted had planted. he used to work in the garden every weekend, kneeling on a green rubber pad, obsessively iing every leaf as if he were nig fingernails. he assigned plants to certain planter boxes. tulipuld not be xed with perennials. a cutting of aloe vera that lena gavedid not belong anywhere because we had no other sucts.

  i looked out the window and saw the calla lilies had fallen and turned brown, the daisies had been crushed down by their ow, the lettuce goo seed. runner weeds were growiween the flagstone walkways that wouween the planter boxes. the whole thing had grown wild fronths of .

  and seeing the garden in this fotten dition rendedof sothing i once read in a fortunokie: when a husband stops paying attention to the gardehinking of pulling up roots. when was the last ti ted pruhe rosery back? when was the last ti he squirted snail b-gone around the flower beds?

  i quickly walked down to the garden shed, looking for pesticides and weed killer, as if the au itle, the expiration date, anything would giveso idea of what was happening inlife. and then i put the bottle down. i had the sense soone was watgand laughing.

  i went ba the house, this ti to call a lawyer. but as i started to dial, i beca fused. i put the receiver down. whauld i say? what did i want frodivorce—when i never knew what i had wanted frorriage?

  the i was still thinking aboutrriage: fifteen years of living in teds shadow. i lay in bed,eyes squeezed shut, uo ke the silest decisions.

  i stayed in bed for three days, getting up only to go to the bathrooor to heat up anotherof oodle soup. but stly i slept. i took the sleeping pills ted had left behind in the die et. and for the first ti irecall, i had no drea. all uld reer was falling sothly into a dark space with no feeling of dinsion or dire. i was the only person in this blaess. and every ti i woke up, i took another pill a back to this place.

  but on the fourth day, i had a nightre. in the dark, uldnt see old mr. chou, but he said he would find , and when he did, he would squishinto the ground. he was sounding a bell, and the louder the bell rang the closer he was to finding . i heldbreath to keep froscreang, but the bell got louder and louder until i burst awake.

  it was the pho st have rung for an hour nonstop. i picked it up.

  &a;a;a;quot;now that you are up, i abringing you leftover dishes,&a;a;a;quot; saidther. she sounded as if shuld seenow. but the roowas dark, the curtains closed tight.

  &a;a;a;quot;ma, i t…&a;a;a;quot; i said. &a;a;a;quot;i t see you now. ibusy.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;too busy for ther?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;i have an appoi…withpsychiatrist.&a;a;a;quot;

  she was quiet for a while. &a;a;a;quot;why do you not speak up for yourself?&a;a;a;quot; she finally said in her pained voice. &a;a;a;quot;whyyou not talk to your husband?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;ma,&a;a;a;quot; i said, feeling drained. &a;a;a;quot;please. dont tellto saverriage anyre. its hard enough as it is.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;i anot telling you to save your rriage,&a;a;a;quot; she protested. &a;a;a;quot;i only say you should speak up.&a;a;a;quot;

  when i hung up, the ph again. it waspsychiatrists receptionist. i had ssedappoihatas well as two days ago. did i want to reschedule? i said i would look atschedule and call back.

  and five nutes later the ph again.

  &a;a;a;quot;whereve you been?&a;a;a;quot; it was ted.

  i began to shake. &a;a;a;quot;out,&a;a;a;quot; i said.

  &a;a;a;quot;ive been trying to reach you for the last three days. i even called the phone pany to check the line.&a;a;a;quot;

  and i knew he had dohat, not out of anyfor , but because when he wants sothing, he gets iatient and irrational about people who ke hiwait.

  &a;a;a;quot;you know its been two weeks,&a;a;a;quot; he said with obvious irritation.

  &a;a;a;quot;two weeks?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;you havent cashed the check or returhe papers. i wao be nice about this, rose. iget sooo officially serve the papers, you kno;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;you ?&a;a;a;quot;

  and then without ssing a beat, he proceeded to say what he really wanted, which was re despicable than all the terrible things i had igined.

  he apers returned, signed. he wahe house. he wahe whole thing to be over as soon as possible. because he wao get rried again, to soone else.

  before uld stop self, i gasped. &a;a;a;quot;you an you were doing nkey business with soone else?&a;a;a;quot; i was so huliated i alst started to cry.

  and then for the first ti in nths, after being in lio all that ti, everything stopped. all the questions: gohere were no choices. i had ay feeling—and i felt free, wild. frohigh insidehead uld hear soone laughing.

  &a;a;a;quot;whats so funny?&a;a;a;quot; said ted angrily.

  &a;a;a;quot;sorry,&a;a;a;quot; i said. &a;a;a;quot;its just that…&a;a;a;quot; and i was trying hard to stiflegiggles, but one of theescaped throughh a snort, which delaugh re. and then teds silence delaugh even harder.

  i was still gasping when i tried to begin again in a re even voice: &a;a;a;quot;listen, ted, sorry…i think the best thing is for you to e over after work.&a;a;a;quot; i didnt know why i said that, but i felt right saying it.

  &a;a;a;quot;theres nothing to talk about, rose.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;i kno;quot; i said in a voice so calit surprised even . &a;a;a;quot;i just want to show you sothing. and dont worry, youll get your papers. believe .&a;a;a;quot;

  i had no plan. i didnt know what i would say to hilater. i knew only that i waed to seeone re ti before the divorce.

  what i ended up showing hiwas the garden. by the ti he arrived, the late-afternoon suer fog had already blown in. i had the divorce papers in the pocket ofwindbreaker. ted was shivering in his sports jacket as he surveyed the dage to the garden.

  &a;a;a;quot;what a ss,&a;a;a;quot; i heard hitter to hielf, trying to shake his pant leg loose of a blackberry vihat had andered onto the walkway. and i knew he was calculating how long it would take to get the place bato order.

  &a;a;a;quot;i like it this way,&a;a;a;quot; i said, patting the tops of rown carrots, their e heads pushing through the earth as if about to be born. and then i saw the weeds: so had sprouted in and out of the cracks iio. others had anchored on the side of the house. and even re had found refuge under loose shingles and were on their way to cliing up to the roof. no way to pull theout oheyve buried theelves in the sonry; youd end up pulling the whole building down.

  ted ig up plu frothe ground and tossing theover the feo the neighbors yard. &a;a;a;quot;where are the papers?&a;a;a;quot; he finally said.

  i haheto hiauffed thein the inside pocket of his jacket. he facedand i saw his eyes, the look i had once staken for kindness and prote. &a;a;a;quot;you dont have to ve ht away,&a;a;a;quot; he said. &a;a;a;quot;i know youll want at least a nth to find a place.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;ive already found a place,&a;a;a;quot; i said quickly, because right then i knew where i was going to live. his eyebrows raised in surprise and he sled—for the briefest nt—until i said, &a;a;a;quot;here.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;whats that?&a;a;a;quot; he said sharply. his eyebrows were still up, but now there was no sle.

  &a;a;a;quot;i said istaying here,&a;a;a;quot; i announced again.

  &a;a;a;quot;who says?&a;a;a;quot; he folded his ar across his chest, squinted his eyes, exaningface as if he k would crack at any nt. that expression of his used to terrifyinto staers.

  now i felt nothing, no fear, no anger. &a;a;a;quot;i say istaying, andlawyer will too, once we serve you the papers,&a;a;a;quot; i said.

  ted pulled out the divorce papers and stared at the his xs were still there, the blanks were still blank. &a;a;a;quot;what do you think youre doily what?&a;a;a;quot; he said.

  and the ahe ohat was iortant above everything else, ran throughbody and fell fro lips: &a;a;a;quot;you t just pullout of your life and throwaway.&a;a;a;quot;

  i saw what i wanted: his eyes, fused, then scared. he was hulihudu. the power ofwords was that strong.

  that night i drea i was wandering through the garden. the trees and bushes wervered with st. and then i spotted old mr. chou andther off in the distaheir busy vents swirling the fog around the they were bending over one of the planter boxes.

  &a;a;a;quot;there she is!&a;a;a;quot; criedther. old mr. iled atand waved. i walked up tother and saw that she was h over sothing, as if she were tending a baby.

  &a;a;a;quot;see,&a;a;a;quot; she said, beang. &a;a;a;quot;i have just plahethisso for you, so for .&a;a;a;quot;

  and below the heingng, all along the ground, were weeds already spilling out over the edges, running wild in every dire.

  without wood up

  best quality

  jing-mei woo

  five nths ago, after a crab dinner celebrating ese new year,ve &a;a;a;quot;lifes iortance,&a;a;a;quot; a jade pendant on a gold . the pendant was not a piece of jewelry i would have chosen for self. it was alst the size oflittle finger, a ttled green and whitlor, intricately carved. to , the whole effect looked wrong: toe, too green, too garishly ornate. i stuffed the necklalacquer box and fot about it.

  but these days, i think aboutlifes iortance. i wonder what it ans, becausether died three nths ago, six days beforethirty-sixth birthday. and shes the only person uld have asked, to tellabout lifes iortao helpuandgrief.

  i now wear that pendant every day. i think the carvings an sothing, because shapes aails, which i never seeto notitil after theyre pointed out to , always an sothing to ese people. i know uld ask auntie lindo, auntie an-i, or other ese friends, but i also know they would tella aning that is different frowhatther intended. what if they tellthis curving line brang into three oval shapes is a pogranate and thatther was wishingfertility and posterity? what ifther really ant the carvings were a branch of pears to givepurity and hoy? or ten-thousand-year droplets frothe gic untain, giving lifes dire and a thousand years of fa and iortality?

  and because i think about this all the ti, i always notice other people wearing these sa jade pendants—not the flat regular dallions or the round white ones with holes in the ddle but ones like ne, a two-inch oblong ht apple green. its as though we were all sworn to the sa secret ant, so secret we dont even know what we belong to. last weekend, for exale, i saw a bartender wearing one. as i fingered ne, i asked hi &a;a;a;quot;whered you get yours?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;my ve it to ,&a;a;a;quot; he said.

  i asked hiwhy, which is a nosy question that only one ese personask another; in a crowd of caucasians, two ese people are already like faly.

  &a;a;a;quot;she gave it toafter i got divorced. i guessthers tellingistill worth sothing.&a;a;a;quot;

  and i knew by the wonder in his voice that he had no idea what the pendant really ant.

  at last years ese new year dinner,ther haoked eleven crabs, one crab for each person, plus ara. she and i had bought theon sto street in atown. we had walked doweep hill fro parents flat, which was actually the first floor of a six-unit building they owned on leavenworth near california. their place was only six blocks frowhere i worked as pywriter for a sll ad agency, so two or three tis a week i would drop by after work. my ther always had enough food to insist that i stay for dinner.

  that year, ese new year fell on a thursday, so i got off work early to helpther shop. my ther was seventyone, but she still walked briskly along, her sll body straight and purposeful, carrying lorful flowery plastic bag. i dragged the tal shopping cart behind.

  every ti i went with her to atown, she pointed out other ese won her age. &a;a;a;quot;hong kong ladies,&a;a;a;quot; she said, eyeing two finely dressed won in long, dark nats and perfect black hairdos. &a;a;a;quot;tonese, village people,&a;a;a;quot; she whispered as we passed won in knitted caps, bent over in layers of padded tops and s. andther—wearing lightblue polyester pants, a red sweater, and a childs green down jacket—she didnt look like anybody else. she had e here in 1949, at the end of a long jourhat started in kweilin in 1944; she had gone north to gking, where she tfather, and then they went southeast to shanghai and fled farther south to hong kong, where the boat departed for san frany ther ca frony different dires.

  and now she was huffing plaints in rhythto her walk downhill. &a;a;a;quot;even you dont want the you stuck,&a;a;a;quot; she said. she was fung again about the tenants who lived on the sed floor. two years ago, she had tried to evict theon the pretext that relatives froa were ing to live there. but thuple saw through her ruse to get arou trol. they said they wouldnt budge until she produced the relatives. and after that i had to listen to her ret every new injustice thiuple inflicted on her.

  my ther said the gray-haired n put too ny bags in the garbage s: &a;a;a;quot;e extra.&a;a;a;quot;

  and the won, a very elegant artist type with blond hair, had supposedly paihe apartnt in terrible red and greelors. &a;a;a;quot;awful,&a;a;a;quot; anedther. &a;a;a;quot;and they take bath, two three tis every day. running the water, running, running, running, op!&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;last week,&a;a;a;quot; she said, growing a each step, &a;a;a;quot;the waigoren ause .&a;a;a;quot; she referred to all caucasians as waigoren, fners. &a;a;a;quot;they say i put poison in a fish, kill that cat.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;what cat?&a;a;a;quot; i asked, even though i kly whie she was talking about. i had seen that cat ny tis. it was a big one-eared towith gray stripes who had learo ju oside sill ofthers kit window. my ther would stand oiptoes and bang the kit window to scare the cat away. and the cat would stand his ground, hissing ba respoo her shouts.

  &a;a;a;quot;that cat always raising his tail to put a stink ondoor,&a;a;a;quot; plainedther.

  i once saw her chase hifroher stairwell with a pot of boiling water. i was teted to ask if she really had put poison in a fish, but i had learned o take sides againstther.

  &a;a;a;quot;so what happeo that cat?&a;a;a;quot; i asked.

  &a;a;a;quot;that cat gone! disappear!&a;a;a;quot; she threw her hands in the air and sled, looking pleased for a nt before thewl ca back. &a;a;a;quot;and that n, he raise his hand like this, showhis ugly fist and callworst fukien landlady. i not frofukien. hunh! he know nothing!&a;a;a;quot; she said, satisfied she had put hiin his place.

  on sto street, we wandered froone fish store to another, looking for the liveliest crabs.

  &a;a;a;quot;do a dead one,&a;a;a;quot; warnedther in ese. &a;a;a;quot;even a beggar wo a dead one.&a;a;a;quot;

  i poked the crabs with a pencil to see how feisty they were. if a crab grabbed on, i lifted it out and into a plastic sack. i lifted one crab this way, only to find one of its legs had been claed onto by another crab. in the brief tug-of-war,crab lost a li.

  &a;a;a;quot;put it back,&a;a;a;quot; whisperedther. &a;a;a;quot;a ssing leg is a bad sign on ese new year.&a;a;a;quot;

  but a n in a white sck ca up to us. he started talking loudly tother in tonese, andther, who spoke tonese so poorly it sounded just like her mandarin, was talking loudly back, pointing to the crab and its ssing leg. and after re sharp words, that crab and its leg were put into our sack.

  &a;a;a;quot;doesnt tter,&a;a;a;quot; saidther. &a;a;a;quot;this nuer elevera one.&a;a;a;quot;

  bae,ther uhe crabs frotheir neer liners and then dued theinto a sinkful old water. she brought out her old wooden board and cleaver, then chopped the ginger and scallions, and poured soy saud sesa oil into a shallow dish. the kit slled of wet neers and ese fragrances.

  then, one by one, she grabbed the crabs by their back, hoisted theout of the sink and shook thedry and awake. the crabs flexed their legs in dair between sink and stove. she stacked the crabs in a ltileveled stear that sat over two burners oove, put a lid on top, and lit the burners. uldo watch so i went into the dining roo

  when i was eight, i had played with a crabther had brought ho forbirthday dinner. i had poked it, and jued back every ti its claws reached out. and i deterhat the crab and i had e to a great uanding when it finally heaved itself up and walked clear across the ter. but before uld even decide what to nanew pet,ther had dropped it into a pot old water and placed it oall stove. i had watched with growing dread, as the water heated up and the pot began to clatter with this crab trying to tap his way out of his own hot soup. to this day, i reer that crab screang as he thrust one bright red claw out over the side of the bubbling pot. it st have beenown voice, because now i know, ourse, that crabs have no vocards. and i also try to vince self that they dont have enough brains to know the differeween a hot bath and a slow death.

  for our new year celebration,ther had invited her longti friends lindo and tin jong. without even asking,ther khat ant including the jongs children: their son vi, who was thirty-eight years old and still living at ho, and their daughter, waverly, who was aroundage. vi called to see if huld als his girlfriend, lisa lu waverly said she would bring her new fianc? rich schields, who, like waverly, was a tax attor price waterhouse. and she added that shoshana, her four-year-old daughter froa previous rriage, wao know ifparents had a vcr so shuld watch pinohio, just in case she got bored. my ther also rendedto invite mr. g,old piano teacher, who still lived three blocks away at our old apartnt.

  includingther, father, ahat de eleven people. butther had ted only ten, because to her way of thinking shoshana was just a child and didnt t, at least not as far as crabs were ed. she hadnt sidered that waverly ght not think the sa way.

  when the platter of steang crabs assed around, waverly was first and she picked the best crab, the brightest, the pluest, and put it on her daughters plate. and then she picked thebest for rid anood one for herself. and because she had learhis skill, of choosing the best, froher ther, it was only natural that her ther knew how to pick the -best ones for her husband, her son, his girlfriend, and herself. andther, ourse, sidered the four reining crabs and gave the ohat looked the best to old g, because he was nearly y and deserved that kind of respect, and then she picked anood one forfather. that left two on the platter: a large crab with a faded lor, and nuer eleven, which had the torn-off leg.

  my ther shook the platter in front of . &a;a;a;quot;take it, alreadld,&a;a;a;quot; saidther.

  i was not too fond of crab, every since i sawbirthday crab boiled alive, but i knew uld not refuse. thats the way ese thers show they love their children, not through hugs and kisses but with stern s of stead dulings, ducks gizzards, and crab.

  i thought i was doing the right thing, taking the crab with the ssing leg. butther cried, &a;a;a;quot;no! no! big one, you eat it. i ot finish.&a;a;a;quot;

  i reer the hungry sounds everybody else was king—crag the shells, sug the crab at out, scraping out tidbits with the ends of chopsticks—andthers quiet plate. i was the only one who noticed her prying open the shell, sniffing the crabs body and theing up to go to the kit, plate in hand. she returned, without the crab, but with re bowls of soy sauce, ginger, and scallions.

  and then as stochs filled, everybody started talking at once.

  &a;a;a;quot;suyuan!&a;a;a;quot; called auntie lindo tother. &a;a;a;quot;why you wear thalor?&a;a;a;quot; auntie lindo gestured with a crab leg tothers red sweater.

  &a;a;a;quot;howyou wear thilor anyre? too young!&a;a;a;quot; shelded.

  my ther acted as though this were a plint. &a;a;a;quot;eoriucapwell,&a;a;a;quot; she said. &a;a;a;quot;een dollar. cheaper than knit it self.&a;a;a;quot;

  auntie lindo nodded her head, as if thlor were worth this price. and then she pointed her crab leg toward her future son-in-law, rich, and said, &a;a;a;quot;see how this one doesnt know how to eat ese food.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;crab isnt ese,&a;a;a;quot; said waverly in her plaining voice. it was azing how waverly still souhe way she did twenty-five years ago, when we were ten and she had annouoin that sa voice, &a;a;a;quot;you arent a genius like .&a;a;a;quot;

  auntie lindo looked at her daughter with exasperation. &a;a;a;quot;how do you know&a;a;lt;dfn&a;a;gt;99lib?&a;a;lt;/dfn&a;a;gt; what is ese, what is not ese?&a;a;a;quot; and theuro rid said with ch authority, &a;a;a;quot;why you are ing the best part?&a;a;a;quot;

  and i saw rich sling back, with asent, and not hulity, showing in his face. he had the sa c as the crab on his plate: reddish hair, pale creaskin, and large dots e freckles. while he srked, auntie lindo denstrated the proper teique, poking her chopstito the e spongy part: &a;a;a;quot;you have to dig in here, get this out. the brain is st tastiest, you try.&a;a;a;quot;

  waverly and rich griced at each other, united in disgust. i heard vi and lisa whisper to each other, &a;a;a;quot;gross,&a;a;a;quot; and then they snickered too.

  uin started laughing to hielf, to let us know he also had a private joke. judging by his preale of snorts and leg slaps, i figured he st have ..practiced this joke ny tis: &a;a;a;quot;i telldaughter, hey, why be poor? marry rich!&a;a;a;quot; he laughed loudly and then nudged lisa, who was sittio hi &a;a;a;quot;hey, dont you get it? look what happen. she gonna rry this guy here. rich. cause i tell her to, rry rich.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;when are you guys getting rried?&a;a;a;quot; asked vi.

  &a;a;a;quot;i should ask you the sa thing,&a;a;a;quot; said waverly. lisa looked earrassed when vi ighe question.

  &a;a;a;quot;mo i dont like crab!&a;a;a;quot; whined shoshana.

  &a;a;a;quot;nice haircut,&a;a;a;quot; waverly said tofroacross the table.

  &a;a;a;quot;thanks, david always does a great job.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;you an you still go to that guy on howard street?&a;a;a;quot; waverly asked, arg one eyebro;quot;arent you afraid?&a;a;a;quot;

  uld sehe danger, but i said it anyway: &a;a;a;quot;what do you an, afraid? hes always very good.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;i an, he is gay,&a;a;a;quot; waverly said. &a;a;a;quot;huld have aids. and he is cutting your hair, which is like cutting a living tissue. maybe ibeing paranoid, being a ther, but you just t be too safe these days….&a;a;a;quot;

  and i sat there feeling as ifhair werated with disease.

  &a;a;a;quot;you should go seeguy,&a;a;a;quot; said waverly. &a;a;a;quot;mr. rory. he does fabulous work, although he probably charges re than youre used to.&a;a;a;quot;

  i felt like screang. shuld be so sneaky with her insults. every ti i asked her the silest of tax questions, for exale, shuld turn the versation around and ke it seeas if i were too cheap to pay for her legal advice.

  shed say things like, &a;a;a;quot;i really dont like to talk about iortant tax tters except inoffice. i an, what if you say sothing casual over lund i give you so casual advice. and then you follow it, and its wrong because you didnt givethe full infortion. id feel terrible. and you would too, wouldnt you?&a;a;a;quot;

  at that crab dinner, i was so d about what she said abouthair that i wao earrass her, to reveal in front of everybody how petty she was. so i decided to front her about the free-lance work id done for her fir eight pages of brochurpy on its tax services. the firwas now re than thirty days late in payinginvoice.

  &a;a;a;quot;maybe uld afford mr. rorys prices if soones firpaidon ti,&a;a;a;quot; i said with a teasing grin. and i leased to see waverlys rea. she was genuinely flustered, speechless.

  uld rubbing it in: &a;a;a;quot;i think its pretty ironic that a big ating firt even pay its own bills on ti. i an, really, waverly, what kind of place are you w for?&a;a;a;quot;

  her face was dark and quiet.

  &a;a;a;quot;hey, hey, you girls, no re fighting!&a;a;a;quot; saidfather, as if waverly and i were still children arguing over tricycles and crayolors.

  &a;a;a;quot;thats right, we dont want to talk about this no;quot; said waverly quietly.

  &a;a;a;quot;so how do you think the giants are going to do?&a;a;a;quot; said vi, trying to be funny. nobody laughed.

  i wasnt about to let her slip away this ti. &a;a;a;quot;well, every ti i call you on the phone, you t talk about it theher,&a;a;a;quot; i said.

  waverly looked at rich, whed his shoulders. she turned bae and sighed.

  &a;a;a;quot;listen, june, i dont know how to tell you this. that stuff you wrote, well, the firdecided it was uable.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;youre lying. you said it was great.&a;a;a;quot;

  waverly sighed again. &a;a;a;quot;i know i did. i didnt want to hurt your feelings. i was trying to see if wuld fix it sohow. but it wont work.&a;a;a;quot;

  and just like that, i was starting to flail, tossed without warning into deep water, drowning and desperate. &a;a;a;quot;mospy needs fiuning,&a;a;a;quot; i said. &a;a;a;quot;its…norl not to be perfect the first ti. i should have explaihe process better.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;june, i really dont think…&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;rewrites are free. ijust as ed about king it perfect as you are.&a;a;a;quot;

  waverly acted as if she didnt even hear . &a;a;a;quot;itrying to viheto at least pay you for so of your ti. i know you put a lot of work into it…i owe you at least that for even suggesting you do it.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;just tellwhat they want ged. ill call youweek so wego over it, line by line.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;ju,&a;a;a;quot; waverly said witol finality. &a;a;a;quot;its just not…sophisticated. isure what you write for your other ts is wonderful. but were a big fir we need sobody who uands that…our style.&a;a;a;quot; she said this toug her hand to her chest, as if she were referring to her style.

  then she laughed in a lighthearted way. &a;a;a;quot;i an, really, june.&a;a;a;quot; and thearted speaking in a deep television-announcer voice: &a;a;a;quot;three bes, three needs, three reasons to buy…satisfa guaranteed…for todays and torrows tax needs…&a;a;a;quot;

  she said this in such a funny way that everybody thought it was a good joke and laughed. and then, to ke tters worse, i heardther saying to waverly: &a;a;a;quot;true, ot teach style. ju sophisticate like you. must be born this way.&a;a;a;quot;

  i was surprised at self, how huliated i felt. i had been outsrted by waverly once again, and now betrayed byown ther. i was sling so hardlower lip was twitg frothe strain. i tried to find sothing else to trate on, and i reer pig upplate, and then mr. gs, as if i were clearing the table, and seeing so sharply throughtears the chips on the edges of these old plates, w whyther didnt use the new set i had bought her five years ago.

  the table was littered with crab carcasses. waverly and rich lit cigarettes and put a crab shell between thefor an ashtray. shoshana had wandered over to the piano and was banging notes out with a crab claw in each hand. mr. g, who had grown totally deaf over the years, watched shoshana and applauded: &a;a;a;quot;bravo! bravo!&a;a;a;quot; and except for his strange shouts, nobody said a word. my ther went to the kit aurned with a plate es sliced into wedges. my father poked at the reants of his crab. vi cleared his throat, twice, and then patted lisas hand.

  it was auntie lindo who finally spoke: &a;a;a;quot;waverly, you let her try again. you ke her do too fast first ti. ourse she ot get it right.&a;a;a;quot;

  uld hearther eating an e slice. she was the only person i knew who ched es, king it sound as if she were eating crisp apples instead. the sound of it was worse than gnashih.

  &a;a;a;quot;good o99lib.ake ti,&a;a;a;quot; tinued auntie lindo, nodding her head in agreent with herself.

  &a;a;a;quot;put in lotta a,&a;a;a;quot; advised uin. &a;a;a;quot;lotta a, boy, thats what i like. hey, thats all you need, ke it right.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;probably not,&a;a;a;quot; i said, and sled before carrying the plates to the sink.

  that was the night, i, that i realized i was er than who i was. i ywriter. i worked for a sll ad agency. i prosed every , &a;a;a;quot;rovide the sizzle for the at.&a;a;a;quot; the sizzle always boiled down to &a;a;a;quot;three bes, three needs, three reasons to buy.&a;a;a;quot; the at was alwayaxial cable, t-1 ltiplexers, prol verters, and the like. i was very good at what i did, sueeding at sothing sll like that.

  i turned oer to wash the dishes. and i no longer felt angry at waverly. i felt tired and foolish, as if i had been running to escape soone chasing , only to look behind and dver there was no ohere.

  i picked upthers plate, the one she had carried into the kit at the start of the dihe crab was untouched. i lifted the shell and slled the crab. maybe it was because i didnt like crab in the first place. uldnt tell what was wrong with it.

  after everybody left,ther joinedi. i utting dishes away. she put water on for re tea and sat down at the sll kit table. i waited for her to chastise .

  &a;a;a;quot;good dinner, ma,&a;a;a;quot; i said politely.

  &a;a;a;quot;not so good,&a;a;a;quot; she said, jabbing at her uth with a toothpick.

  &a;a;a;quot;what happeo your crab? whyd you throw it away?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;not so good,&a;a;a;quot; she said again. &a;a;a;quot;that crab die. even a beggar dont want it.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;hould you tell? i didnt sll anything wrong.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot; tell even beforok!&a;a;a;quot; she was standing now, looking out the kit window into the night. &a;a;a;quot;i shake that crab beforok. his legs—droopy. his uth—wide open, already like a dead person.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;whyd yook it if you k was already dead?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;i thought…ybe only just die. maybe taste not too bad. but isll, dead taste, not fir&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;what if soone else had picked that crab?&a;a;a;quot;

  my ther looked atand sled. &a;a;a;quot;only you pick that crab. nobody else take it. i already know this. everybody else wa quality. you thinking different.&a;a;a;quot;

  she said it in a way as if this were proof—proof of sothing good. she always said things that didnt ke a sounded both good and bad at the sa ti.

  i utting away the last of the chipped plates and then i reered sothing else. &a;a;a;quot;ma, why dont you ever use those new dishes i bought you? if you didnt like the you should have told . uld have ged the pattern.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;ourse, i like,&a;a;a;quot; she said, irritated. &a;a;a;quot;soti i think sothing is so good, i want to save it. then i fet i save it.&a;a;a;quot;

  and then, as if she had just now reered, she unhooked the clasp of her gold necklad took it off, wadding theand the jade pendant in her pal she grabbedhand and put the necklapal then shutfingers around it.

  &a;a;a;quot;no, ma,&a;a;a;quot; i protested. &a;a;a;quot;i t take this.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;nala, nala&a;a;a;quot;—take it, take it—she said, as if she werelding . and theinued in ese. &a;a;a;quot;for a long ti, i wao give you this necklace. see, i wore this onskin, so when you put it on your skin, then you knowaning. this is your lifes iortance.&a;a;a;quot;

  i looked at the necklace, the pendant with the light green jade. i wao give it back. i didnt want to aept it. a i also felt as if i had already swallowed it.

  &a;a;a;quot;yiving this toonly because of what happeonight,&a;a;a;quot; i finally said.

  &a;a;a;quot;what happen?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;what waverly said. what everybody said.&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;tss! why you listen to her? why you want to follow behind her, chasing her words? she is like this crab.&a;a;a;quot; my ther poked a shell in the garbage . &a;a;a;quot;always walking sideways, ving crooked. youke ys go the other way.&a;a;a;quot;

  i put the neckla. it felol.

  &a;a;a;quot;not so good, this jade,&a;a;a;quot; she said tter-of-factly, toug the pendant, and then she added in ese: &a;a;a;quot;this is young jade. it is a very lighlor now, but if you wear it every day it will bereen.&a;a;a;quot;

  my father hasen well sincether died. so i ahere, i, tok hidinner. islig tofu. ive decided to ke hia spicy bean-curd dish. my ther used to tellhow hot things restore the spirit ah. but iking this stly because i knowfather loves this dish and i know how tok it. i like the sll of it: ginger, scallions, and a red chili sauce that tickleshe nute i open the jar.

  above , i hear the old pipes shake into a with a thunk! and theer running insink dwio a trickle. one of the tenants upstairs st be taking a shower. i reerther plaining: &a;a;a;quot;even you dont want the you stuck.&a;a;a;quot; and now i know what she ant.

  as i rihe tofu in the sink, i astartled by a dark ss that appears suddenly at the window. its the one-eared toat froupstairs. hes balang on the sill, rubbing his flank against the window.

  my ther didnt kill that da cat after all, and irelieved. and then i see this cat rubbing re vigorously on the window aarts to raise his tail.

  &a;a;a;quot;get away frothere!&a;a;a;quot; i shout, and slaphand on the window three tis. but the cat just narrows his eyes, flattens his one ear, and hisses back at .

  ari translation up

  queen mother of the western skies

  &a;a;a;quot;o! hwai dungsyi&a;a;a;quot;—you bad little thing—said the won, teasing her baby granddaughter. &a;a;a;quot;is buddha teag you to laugh for no reason?&a;a;a;quot; as the baby tile, the wo a deep wish stirring in her heart.

  &a;a;a;quot;even if uld live forever,&a;a;a;quot; she said to the baby, &a;a;a;quot;i still dont know which way i would teach you. i was once so free and i. i too laughed for no reason.

  &a;a;a;quot;but later i threw awayfoolish io protect self. and then i taughtdaughter, your ther, to shed her innoce so she would not be hurt as well