The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,13
Miss Culbertson held one arm of the young woman while Ah Cheng held her other arm. The poor girl was trembling, and she kept mumbling something in Chinese.
Dolly’s heart felt like it had been ripped in half.
“Are you all right, miss?” Cook asked in a low tone after they’d cleared Bartlett Alley.
“I think so,” she said, although she was pretty sure the shaking in her voice gave her away.
“It will get easier,” Cook said. “Not that it’s something you want to be easy, by any means.”
“I understand.” And she did. She was also grateful that this police officer cared about her well-being.
“You did fine in there, Miss Cameron,” Cook continued. “I’ve known the director for many years, and she wouldn’t have brought you along if she didn’t think you would be an asset.”
Dolly glanced over at him beneath the light of the moon. He walked with sure steps, his sledgehammer casually swinging at his side, as if he hadn’t just beaten down a door a short time ago. “I did nothing, though,” Dolly said.
“You observed,” Cook said. “Don’t worry, you will have plenty of chances to do more. This war is not over yet.”
His words sent a shiver along Dolly’s neck. “Will they not come after us for what we have done?” she asked.
“Not openly,” Cook said. “These men work in secret, in shadowed corners and beyond prying eyes. Miss Culbertson keeps the girls under watch at all times.”
How many slave girls had been rescued by Miss Culbertson and her team, and how many others were still out there, living in misery and filth? She marveled at how the Chinese girl they had rescued tonight was walking resolutely between the two women up ahead. Her entire life had changed tonight, and Dolly could only hope she would flourish at the mission home.
When they reached the base of Sacramento Street, Officer Green said, “We’ll wait here to make sure you get up the hill. Lock things up tight. One of us will be around every hour or so to make sure no one is trying to get her back.”
His words made Dolly’s stomach tighten with worry, but there was nothing she could do except move forward with the women. After they separated from the officers, the Chinese slave started quietly crying. Ah Cheng said a few soothing words to her, but the crying continued.
By the time they reached the mission home and were safely inside, with the door bolted once again by Anna, who had let them in, the Chinese girl was shaking so hard that Dolly wondered if she would become sick.
Anna took one look at her and said, “Can you help me, Dolly? We need to get her in a warm bath.”
For the next hour, Dolly learned what it was to care intimately for another human, one who was scarred and soiled in ways that made Dolly’s eyes scald with tears. She and Anna bathed the young woman while she sat in the bathtub and cried. Dolly was gentle with the soap and washcloth. The slave was thin enough that Dolly could have counted her ribs on her back.
Next, they washed her hair. At first the young woman was afraid to dunk her head, but Anna explained in broken Chinese that it would make her feel better. After the bath, the young woman trembled as she stood in a clean robe, her hair twisted into a towel. Her eyes were swollen from her crying, but in their depths was gratitude.
When the girl asked Anna how to say “thank you” in English, Dolly felt her heart would burst with both pain and relief.
Only when they had the young woman tucked between fresh, clean sheets, with a pot of hot tea beside her bed, did Dolly allow herself to absorb the events of the evening. Anna would be staying in the Chinese girl’s room to offer her comfort and soothe any possible hysterics.
When Dolly left the new charge to Anna, she stood in the dimness of the hallway for a few moments, trying to comprehend the squalor and degradation she’d witnessed in Bartlett Alley. Tonight had not been what she’d expected. It had been both worse than she’d imagined and more rewarding. She’d never witnessed such grime, seen such desperation, or aided someone in such dire distress. The small acts of bathing and feeding the young woman had been simple, yet significant as well. And to think that this girl was sleeping in a clean and safe bed tonight because of