The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,81

sped by, and Frances’s reply came an hour before the board arrived. She would be pleased to take up the position of the new housekeeper. By the time Dolly joined the board, her nerves were buzzing with anticipation, but she felt a confidence that could only be explained as coming from the Creator.

They met in the chapel, and Dolly walked to the front of the room. Nerves danced along her skin as she stood in front of everyone, hands clasped together.

“You might have already guessed what I’m about to say,” she began. “I wanted everyone to know that I haven’t made this decision lightly, or just because Mrs. Field resigned. I’ve been thinking about it for years—truly, since Miss Culbertson asked me to consider it.”

She scanned the faces smiling back at her. Several of the ladies nodded their encouragement. Dolly felt overwhelmed by the support and love in their eyes, especially coming from the women who had championed the mission home in all ways. These women had volunteered countless hours raising funds, petitioning lawmakers, spreading the message of tolerance, educating the deprived. “I’ve come to request the position of the director of the mission home, with your blessing, of course. If you’ve found another, I’ll be happy to continue on as an assistant.”

“There is no other,” the president said immediately. “I move that we vote now. All in favor?”

The unanimous ayes that echoed through the room made Dolly feel as if her entire body had been infused with warmth and light. She was not alone in this position, and she would never be alone—not as long as she had the support of these good women and the Lord. And beyond the board meeting, there were fifty Chinese girls and women living in the mission home, many of them dealing with the aftereffects of traumatic events and abuse, yet Dolly didn’t want to be anywhere else.

After everyone’s votes had been officially recorded in favor of Dolly’s new position, the president spoke of how more people than ever wanted to visit the mission home, considering it part of their Chinatown tour. Dolly’s mind spun with new thoughts and ideas—both of how they could benefit from the interest and increased donations, and also of how she could protect the girls who were greatly struggling.

That night, she fell into a dreamless sleep, only to be awakened a couple of hours later by a knock on her door. Dolly mustered herself out of bed, drew on a shawl, and opened the door to see a wide-eyed Frances standing there.

“A note has been delivered.”

Dolly was about to turn and begin dressing, assuming that another slave girl had requested rescue, but Frances’s next words stopped her. “A distinguished guest is on his way.”

Dolly stilled. “Right now?”

Frances held out the note. “The messenger is waiting on the porch.”

Dolly read the words, then nodded. “We need to wake everyone up,” she said. “And we need to give U.S. President William McKinley the warmest welcome possible.”

“For the consideration of [whatever sum has been agreed upon], paid into my hands this day, I, [name of girl], promise to prostitute my body for the term of ____ years. If, in that time, I am sick one day, two weeks shall be added to my time; and if more than one, my term of prostitution shall continue an additional month. But if I run away, or escape from the custody of my keeper, then I am to be held as a slave for life.

“(Signed) _____________________”

—Consignment contract for slave girls arriving from China

1903

The man’s breath was foul, his clothing tattered. He was much larger than Mei Lien, yet that didn’t stop her from wrenching out of his grasp and fleeing toward the exit of the building. But the man had the advantage, knowing his way in the darkness. He lunged for her and caught her clothing, dragging her down.

Mei Lien had hardly eaten in three days, and she didn’t know where her strength came from. But she rolled out from under the man and was once again on her feet. Half running, half limping, she made it to the door.

The man cursed, and she heard his labored breathing. He was coming for her. This was not how her life would end, she promised herself that. She ran into the dark, rainy night. She nearly slipped on the wet cobblestones, but she kept her balance and moved as quickly as she could. She didn’t stop until she saw a café window with light spilling from