The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,27

Uncle said, his tone light and cheerful. It seemed he was happy to have made it this far.

Mei Lien was eager to keep pace with Uncle and Auntie as they walked along the harbor to where Uncle hired a cab. Hunger cramped her stomach, and her legs still felt wobbly from the ship, but neither mattered. She couldn’t wait to meet the man she would marry.

The three of them crowded inside the cab, but Mei Lien didn’t mind. There was much to see outside the windows. She gazed at the children with their white skin and Western clothing. Girls and women strolled about, the girls wearing short dresses with frilly hems, the women clothed in long skirts, blouses, hats, and gloves. These women and girls walked like men, with their flat feet and long strides.

In Hong Kong, proper women didn’t walk the streets; only their servants did. Proper women had bound feet, and they ran their homes and raised their children. Mei Lien had not grown up in a wealthy home. Her feet had never been bound, which Auntie had been very pleased about during their first interview, since she wouldn’t be limited to stay inside a house in America.

Mei Lien took in the sights and wondered if she’d ever be able to tell her mother about all that she was seeing. She imagined her mother’s exclamations, especially about the tall buildings and the different-colored people. “Japanese are here too?” Mei Lien said when she saw two men who were at least a head shorter than the average Chinese man.

“Some Japanese are here,” Uncle said. “But they keep to themselves. You will see, once we get to Chinatown, that most of us are Chinese.”

The change in architecture and scenery was a sharp contrast once they arrived at the so-called Chinatown. Nostalgia twisted hard inside Mei Lien. The people, the smells of food, the shop displays, all made her miss her mother even more. Most of the people she saw were Chinese men wearing loose, dark clothing, long queues braided down their backs, their dark eyes following the buggy as if they wanted to see inside. The lack of women on the narrow streets told her the women were properly settled in their homes raising their babies and running their households.

“How long until I meet my husband?” Mei Lien asked, her nerves buzzing along her skin. Would he be handsome? Young? Old?

“Not long,” Uncle said.

Auntie pressed her lips together and exchanged glances with Uncle.

Mei Lien wanted to ask what not long meant, but it seemed the elation of having cleared immigration had already worn off of Auntie, and she was back to her glowering self.

The buggy jolted to a stop, and Uncle climbed out.

Mei Lien made to rise, but Auntie shoved her back into her seat. “We’re not there yet. Stay seated.”

Mei Lien didn’t move after that. Not when Uncle got back in and said that the buggy driver hadn’t wanted to take them past a certain point, so Uncle had given him a tip. Now, the buggy rumbled forward again, and, after a couple more turns, it stopped again.

Uncle climbed out, then held open the door for Auntie. Mei Lien was the last one to step down. They had stopped in front of a three-story building. The outside lettering scaling up the brick wall proclaimed that it was a hotel. Mei Lien had thought Uncle owned a house in the area, but perhaps they were meeting her husband here?

She didn’t have time to ask, because Auntie’s clawlike fingers propelled her forward. They stepped into the dim interior of the building, and the smoky atmosphere made Mei Lien’s throat tickle. The sickly-sweet smell was familiar, and she immediately knew it had to be opium or some form of it. But here it was stronger than she had ever smelled, less bitter, sweeter.

The tickle in her throat turned to a burning, and she started to cough.

“Enough coughing,” Auntie hissed, tightening her grip. “You don’t want them to think you’re sick.”

Mei Lien tried to keep her coughing to a minimum, which only made her eyes water and her throat burn more. She had never been inside a hotel before, and she didn’t know what to expect. The lobby was lovely, with tall plants, velvet drapes, a deep burgundy rug, and teak furniture.

A man who was tall for Chinese stepped through a set of velvet drapes and walked toward them. Was this her husband? He was dressed in an elegant silk suit, and his