The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,57

the side of Mei Lien’s jaw. “Stop talking. We will find out soon enough.”

It was then that Mei Lien realized the two other girls were pulling her clothes from the bureau, inspecting every seam, every pocket. Next, they opened the drawers, going through the few items that had been given to Mei Lien. They turned to the bed, stripped it of the coverings, slit open the pillow and shoved their hands inside, searching.

They lifted the mattress, then looked under the bed. Mei Lien felt hands pat her down, and finally, one of the girls poked her fingers into the lotus bowl.

“No,” Mei Lien cried out before she could stop herself.

Everyone in the room froze. Then Ah-Peen Oie’s face formed a cruel smile. “Bring me the bowl.”

With Mei Lien watching in horror, Ah-Peen Oie dumped the entirety of the contents onto the stripped mattress. Dirt, gravel, water, and the fragile plant landed in a clump.

There was no money to be found.

Ah-Peen Oie had the audacity to look disappointed, and she dropped the bowl onto the mattress next to the scattered dirt. “Next room.”

Mei Lien didn’t move after Ah-Peen Oie left her bedroom. Noises of yells and shrieks came from the next bedroom over; then another room was invaded, and another.

Someone screamed, and the sound pulled Mei Lien out of her numbness. The screams turned into begging cries. Mei Lien walked to her still-open door. With numb disbelief, she watched Ah-Peen Oie drag one of the courtesans out of her room. The young woman was half clothed, and the makeup on her face was streaked with tears.

Mei Lien didn’t move, didn’t try to stop anything, as Ah-Peen Oie forced the girl down the back stairs. Mei Lien leaned against the frame of her doorway as the screams continued to echo throughout the house and out onto the street.

The girl would be locked out. She was disgraced, and no one in Chinatown would take pity on a used-up woman from Ah-Peen Oie’s house. She might survive if she begged for work at the cribs; otherwise, she would meet the fate of the outcast—left to beg for her food until a merciful death claimed her.

Mei Lien shut her door quietly, then crossed to her soiled mattress. With small pinches, she began to reassemble the destroyed lotus plant.

“Seldom anywhere has a great audience made so wonderful a demonstration of enthusiasm as when Miss Cameron came forward in response to the introduction and told her simple, straightforward story of the experience she had had in attempting to protect her ward. . . . Although low, Miss Cameron’s voice was heard in all portions of the room.”

—San Francisco Chronicle, April 3, 1900

1900

Dolly didn’t think she would ever sleep, not on the hard-packed dirt of the Palo Alto jail. She and Kum Quai had been forced into a locked cell inside a shack behind the court building. There was no bed or latrine. Even though Kum Quai had insisted that Dolly use the two boxes in the shack as a bed, she couldn’t let the poor, trembling girl sleep on the ground. The place was more of a storage room than a jail cell. Bits of lumber and smaller boxes were scattered about. Judging by the soft breathing coming from Kum Quai, Dolly could at least be at ease in the fact that the Chinese girl had stopped crying and was getting some rest at last.

If only rest would come for Dolly. She stared at the high, horizontal window where the moonlight spilled through. A few stars also winked against the black of the night sky. Out there was the world, while inside the jail cell it was a different existence altogether. Only a few hours in, and it seemed the room grew smaller and smaller with every passing moment.

The coolness had turned to cold, and Dolly burrowed further into her short jacket. The single blanket covered Kum Quai, and Dolly didn’t want it any other way. Witnessing the fear and desperation in Kum Quai’s eyes had been heart-wrenching, despite all the other rescues Dolly had been exposed to. Tonight, while she shared unjust penance with Kum Quai, Dolly had never felt more protective or more like a mother in her life. She knew, without a doubt, that her mother would have done the same thing to protect any of her children.

Blood or not, Kum Quai deserved a mother’s protection.

Dolly’s gaze found the empty water pail. The water had been stagnant, but they had shared equal portions anyway,