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Rose Hsu Jordan
As proof of her faith, ther used to carry a sll leatherette Bible when she went to the First ese Baptist Church eery Sunday. But ter, after ther lost her faith in God, that leatherette Bible wound up wedged under a too-short table leg, a way for her trrect the iances of life. Its been there for oer twenty years.
My ther pretends that Bible isnt there. Wheneer anyone asks her what its doing there, she says, a little too loudly, quot;Oh, this? I fot.quot; But I know she sees it. My ther is not the best housekeeper in the world, and after all these years that Bible is still white.
Tonight Iwatg ther sweep uhe sa kit table, sothing she does eery night after dinner. She gently pokes her brooaround the table leg propped up by the Bible. I watch her, sweep after sweep, waiting for the right nt to tell her about Ted ahat were getting diorced. When I tell her, I know shes going to say, quot;This ot be.quot;
And when I say that it is certainly true, that e is oer, I know what else she will say: quot;Then you st sae it.quot;
Ahough I know its hopeless—theres absolutely nothio sae—Iafraid if I tell her that, shell still persuade to try.
I think its ironic that ther wants to fight the diorce. Seenteen years ago she was chagrined when I started dating Ted. My older sisters had dated only ese boys frochurch befetting rried.
Ted and I t in a politics oflogy css when he leaned oer and offered to pay two dolrs for the st weeks notes. I refused the ney aed a cup offee instead. This was during sed sester at UC Berkeley, where I had enrolled as a liberal arts jor and ter ged to fis. Ted was in his third year in pre-d, his choice, he told , eer since he dissected a fetal pig ih grade.
I hae to adt that what I initially found attractie in Ted were precisely the things that de hidifferent fro brothers and the ese boys I had dated: his brashness; the assuredness in which he asked for things aed to get the his opinionated nner; his angur fad nky body; the thiess of his ar; the fact that his parents iigrated froTarrytown, New York, not Tientsin, a.
My ther st hae noticed these sa differences after Ted picked up one eening at  arents house. When I returned ho, ther was still up, watg teleision.
quot;He is Ari,quot; warned ther, as if I had been too blind to notice. A waigoren.quot;
quot;IAri too,quot; I said. quot;And its not as if Igoing to rry hior sothing.quot;
Mrs. Jordan also had a few words to say. Ted had casually inited to a faly piic, the annual reunion held by the polo fields in Golden Gate Park. Ahough we had dated only a few tis i nth—aainly had neer slept together, sih of us lied at ho—Ted introdubsp; to all his reties as his girlfriend, which, until then, I didnt know I was.
Later, when Ted and his father went off to py olleyball with the others, his ther took hand, aarted walking along the grass, away frothe crowd. She squeezed  alwary but neer seed to look at .
quot;Iso gd to et you finally,quot; Mrs. Jordan said. I wao tell her I wasnt really Teds girlfriend, but she went on. quot;I think its hat you and Ted are haing such a lot of fun together. So I hope you wont suand what I hae to say.quot;
And then she spoke quietly about Teds future, his o trate on his dical studies, why it would be years before huld een think abe. She assured she had nothing whatsainst norities; she and her husband, who owned a of office-supply stores, personally knew ny fine people who were Oriental, Spanish, and een bck. But Ted was going to be in one of those professions where he would be judged by a different standard, by patients and other doctors who ght not be as uanding as the Jordans were. She said it was so unfortuhe way the rest of the world was, how unpopur the VietnaWar was.
quot;Mrs. Jordan, I anot Vietnase,quot; I said softly, een though I was on the erge of shouting. quot;And I hae no iion your son.quot;
When Ted droe ho that day, I told hiuldnt see hianyre. When he asked why, I shrugged. When he pressed , I told hiwhat his ther had said, erbati without ent.
quot;And youre just going to sit there! Let ther decide whats right?quot; he shouted, as if I were -spirator who had turraitor. I was touched that Ted was so upset.
quot;What should we do?quot; I asked, and I had a pained feeling I thought was the beginning of loe.
In those early nths, we g to each other with a rather silly desperation, because, in spite of anything ther or Mrs. Jordauld say, there was nothing that really preented us froseeing one another. With igiragedy h oer us, we beseparable, two hales creating the whole: yin and yang. I was ictito his hero. I was always in danger and he was always resg . I would fall and he would lift up. It was ehirating and draining. The etional effect of saing and being saed was addig to both of us. And that, as ch as anything we eer did in bed, was how we de loe to each other: joined where weaknesses needed prote.
quot;What should we do?quot; I tio ask hi And within a year of our first eting we were liing together. The nth before Ted started dical school at UCSF we were rried in the Eppal church, and Mrs. Jordan sat in the front pew, g as ected of the groo ther. When Ted finished his resideology, we bought a run-down three-story Victorian with a rge garden in Ashbury Heights. Ted helped set up a studio downstairs so uld take in work as a free-nce produ assistant fraphic artists.
Oer the years, Ted decided where we went on acation. He decided what new furniture we should buy. He decided we should wait until we ed into a better neighborhood before haing children. We used to discuss so of these tters, but we both khe question would boil down to saying, quot;Ted, you decide.quot; After a while, there were no re discussions. Ted sily decided. And I hought of objeg. I preferred to ighe world around , obsessing only oer what was in front of : T-square, X-acto knife, blue pencil.
But st year Teds feelings about what he called quot;decision and responsibilityquot; ged. A new patient had e to hiasking what shuld do about the spidery eins on her cheeks. And wheold her huld suck the red eins out and ke her beautiful again, she belieed hi But instead, he actally sucked a , and the left side of her sle fell down and she sued hi
After he lost the lpractice wsuit—his first, and a big sho I now realize—he started pushio ke des. Did I think we should buy an Ari car or a Japanese car? Should we ge frowhole-life to terinsurance? What did I think about that didate who supported the tras? What about a faly?
I thought about things, the pros and the s. But in the end I would be so fused, because I neer belieed there was eer any ht answer, yet there were ny wrong ones. So wheneer I said, quot;You decide,quot; or quot;I dont care,quot; or quot;Either way is fih ,quot; Ted would say in his iatient oice, quot;No, you decide. You t hae it both ways, none of the responsibility, none of the b.quot;
uld feel things giween us. A protectie eil had been lifted and Ted now started pushing about eerything. He asked to decide o triial tters, as if he were baitialian food or Thai. One appetizer or two. Which appetizer. Credit card or cash. Visa or MasterCard.
Last nth, when he was leaing for a two-day dertologurse in Los Angeles, he asked if I wao e along and then quickly, before uld say anything, he added, quot;Neer nd, Id rather go alone.quot;
quot;More ti to study,quot; I agreed.
quot;No, because you eer ke up your nd about anything,quot; he said.
And I protested, quot;But its only with things that arent iortant.quot;
quot;Nothing is iortant to you, then,quot; he said in a tone of disgust.
quot;Ted, if you wao go, Ill go.quot;
And it was as if sothing snapped in hi quot;How the hell did we eer get rried? Did you just say I do because the nister said repeat after ? What would you hae doh your life if I had neer rried you? Did it eer our to you?quot;
This was such a big leap in logic, between what I said and what he said, that I thought we were like two people standing apart on separate untain peaks, recklessly leaning forward to throw sto one another, unaware of the dangerous chasthat separated us.
But now I realize Ted knew what he was saying all along. He wao show the rift. Because ter that eening he called froLos Angeles and said he wanted a diorce.
Eer sieds been gone, Ie been thinking, Een if I had epected it, een if I had known what I was going to do with life, it still would hae khe wind out of .
When sothing that iolent hits you, you t help but lose your band fall. And after you pick yourself up, you realize you t trust anybody to sae you—not your husband, not your ther, not God. So what you do to stop yourself frotiing and falling all ain?
My ther belieed in Gods will for ny years. It was as if she had turned on a celestial faucet and goodness kept p out. She said it was faith that kept all these good things ing our way, only I thought she said quot;fate,quot; because shuldnt pronouhat quot;thquot; sound in quot;faith.quot;
And ter, I dered that ybe it was fate all along, that faith was just an illusion that sohow youre in trol. I found out the st uld hae was hope, and with that I was not denying any possibility, good or bad. I was just saying, If there is a choice, dear God or whateer you are, heres where the odds should be pced.
I reer the day I started thinking this, it was such a reetion to . It was the day ther lost her faith in God. She found that things of uioned certaintuld neer be trusted again.
We had goo the beach, to a secluded spot south of the city near Deils Slide. My father had read in Su gazihat this was a good pce to catch o perch. And ahough father was not a fishern but a pharcists assistant who had once been a doctor in a, he belieed in his nengkan, his ability to do anythi his nd to. My ther belieed she had nengkan tok anything father had a nd to catch. It was this belief in their nengkan that had brought  arents to Arica. It had eheto hae seen children and buy a house in the Su district with ery little ney. It had giehe fideo beliee their luck would neer run out, that God was on their side, that the house gods had only behings to report and our aors were pleased, that lifeti warranties ant our lucky streak would neer break, that all the elents were in bahe right aunt of wind and water.
So there we were, the nine of us: father, ther, two sisters, four brothers, and self, so fident as we walked along our first beach. We rched in single file across thol gray sand, frooldest to you. I was in the ddle, fourteen years old. We would hae de quite a sight, if anyone else had been watg, nine pairs of bare feet trudging, nine pairs of shoes in hand, nine bck-haired heads turoward the water to watch the waes tuling in.
The wind;tt?９9lｉｂ.t was whipping thtton trousers around legs and I looked for so pce where the sand wouldnt kito eyes. I saere standing in the hollow of e. It was like a giant bowl, cracked in half, the other half washed out to sea. My ther walked toward the right, where the beach was , and we all followed. On this side, the wall of the cured around and protected the beach froboth the rough surf and the wind. And along this wall, in its shadow, was a reef ledge that started at the edge of the bead tinued out past the where the waters beca rough. It seed as though a persould walk out to sea on this reef, ahough it looked ery rocky and slippery. Oher side of the, the wall was re jagged, eaten away by the water. It itted with creices, so when the waes crashed against the wall, the water spewed out of these holes like white gulleys.
Thinking back, I reer that this beace was a terrible pce, full of wet shadows that chilled us and inisible specks that flew into our eyes a hard for us to see the dangers. We were all blind with the newness of this eperience: a ese faly trying to act like a typical Ari faly at the beach.
My ther spread out an old striped bedspread, which fpped in the wind until nine pairs of shoes ghed it down. My father asseled his long baoo fishing pole, a pole he had de with his own two hands, reering its design frohis childhood in a. And we children sat huddled shoulder to shoulder on the b, reag into the grocery sack full of bologna sandwiches, which we hungrily ate saed with sand froour fingers.
Then father stood up and adred his fishing pole, its grace, its strength. Satisfied, he picked up his shoes and walked to the edge of the bead then onto the reef to the point just before it was wet. My two older sisters, Janid Ruth, jued up frothe b and spped their thighs to get the sand off. Then they spped each others bad raced off down the beach shrieking. I was about to get up and chase the but ther oward four brothers and rended : quot;Dangsying tande shenti,quot; whis quot;Take care of thequot; or literally, quot;Watch out for their bodies.quot; These bodies were the anchors of life: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Bing. I fell bato the sand, groaning as throat grew tight, as I de the sa nt: quot;Why?quot; Why did I hae to care for the
And she gae the sa answer: quot;Yiding.quot;
I st. Because they were brothers. My sisters had oaken care of . How elsuld I learn responsibility? How elsuld I appreciate what  arents had done for ?
Matthew, Mark, and Luke were twele, ten, and nine, old enough to keep theeles loudly ased. They had already buried Luke in a shallow grae of sand so that only his head stuck out. Now they were starting to pat together the outlines of a sand-castle wall on top of hi
But Bing was only four, easily ecitable and easily bored and irritable. He didnt want to py with the other brothers because they had pushed hioff to the side, adnishing hi quot;No, Bing, youll just wreck it.quot;
So Bing wandered down the beach, walking stiffly like an ousted eeror, pig up shards of rod ks of driftwood and flinging thewith all his ght into the surf. I trailed behind, igining tidal waes and w what I would do if one appeared. I called to Bing eery now and then, quot;Dont go too close to the water. Youll get your feet wet.quot; And I thought how ch I seed like ther, always worried beyond reason inside, but at the sa ti talking about the danger as if it were less than it really was. The worry surrounded , like the wall of the, and it de feel eerything had been sidered and was now safe.
My ther had a superstition, in fact, that children were predisposed to certain dangers oain days, all depending on their ese birthdate. It ined in a little ese book called The Twenty-Si Malignant Gates. There, on each page, was an illustration of so terrible dahat awaited young i children. In the ers was a description written in ese, and since uldhe characters, uld only see what the picture ant.
The sa little boy appeared in each picture: g a broken tree li, standing by a falling gate, slipping in a wooden tub, being carried away by a snapping dog, fleeing froa bo of lightning. And in each of these pictures stood a n who looked as if he were wearing a lizard e. He had a big crease in his forehead, or ybe it was actually that he had two round horns. In one picture, the lizard n was standing on a cured bridge, ughing as he watched the little boy falling forward oer the bridge rail, his slippered feet already in the air.
It would hae been enough to think that een one of these dangeruld befall a child. Ahough the birthdaterrespoo only one danger, ther worried about theall. This was because shuldnt figure out how the ese dates, based on the lunar dar, transted into Ari dates. So by taking theall into at, she had absolute faith shuld preent eery one of the
The sun had shifted and ed oer the other side of the wall. Eerything had settled into pce. My ther was busy keeping sand froblowing onto the bhen shaking sand out of shoes, and tag ers of bs back down again with the now shoes. My father was still standing at the end of the reef, patiently casting out, waiting for nengkan to itself as a fish. uld see sll figures farther down on the beach, and uld tell they were sisters by their two dark heads and yellow pants. My brothers shrieks were ed with those of seagulls. Bing had found ay soda bottle and was using this to dig sao the dare wall. And I sat on the sand, just where the shadows ended and the sunny part began.
Bing ounding the soda bottle against the rock, so I called to hi quot;Dont dig so hard. Youll bust a hole in the wall and fall all the way to a.quot; And I ughed when he looked at as though he thought what I said was true. He stood up and started walking toward the water. He put one foot tentatiely on the reef, and I warned hi quot;Bing.quot;
quot;Igonna see Daddy,quot; he protested.
quot;Stay close to the wall, then, away frothe water,quot; I said. quot;Stay away frothe an fish.quot;
And I watched as he inched his way along the reef, his back hugging the bue wall. I still see hi so clearly that I alst feel I ke histay there foreer.
I see histanding by the wall, safe, calling to father, who looks oer his shoulder toward Bing. How gd I athat father is going to watch hifor a while! Bing starts to walk oer and then sothing tugs on fathers line and hes reeling as fast as he .
Shouts erupt. Soone has thrown sand in Lukes fad hes jued out of his sand grae and thrown hielf on top of Mark, thrashing and kig. My ther shouts for to stop the And right after I pull Luke off Mark, I look up and see Bing walking aloo the edge of the reef. In the fusion of the fight, nobody notices. I athe only one who sees what Bing is doing.
Bing walks owo, three steps. His little body is ing so quickly, as if he spotted sothing wonderful by the waters edge. And I think, Hes going to fall in. Iepeg it. And just as I think this, his feet are already in the air, in a nt of bance, before he spshes into the sea and disappears without leaing so ch as a ripple ier.
I sank to knees watg that spot where he disappeared, not ing, not saying anything. uldnt ke sense of it. I was thinking, Should I run to the water and try to pull hiout? Should I shout to father? I rise on legs fast enough? I take it all bad forbid Bing frojoining father on the ledge?
And then sisters were back, and one of thesaid, quot;Wheres Bing?quot; There was silence for a few seds and then shouts and sand flying as eeryone rushed past toward the waters edge. I stood there uo e as sisters looked by the wall, as brothers scraled to see what y behind pieces of driftwood. My ther and father were trying to part the waes with their hands.
We were there for ny hours. I reer the search boats and the su when dusk ca. I had neer seen a su like that: a bright e f toug the waters edge and then fanning out, warng the sea. When it beca dark, the boats turheir yellow orbs on and bounced up and down on the dark shiny water.
As I look back, it see unnatural to think about thlors of the su and boats at a ti like that. But we all had strahoughts. My father was calg nutes, estiting the teerature of the water, readjusting his estite of when Bing fell. My sisters were calling, quot;Bing! Bing!quot; as if he were hiding in so bushes high aboe the beach cliffs. My brothers sat in the car, quietly reading ic books. And when the boats turned off their yellow orbs, ther went for a swi She had neer swua stroke in her life, but her faith in her own nengkan inced her that what these Ariuldnt do, shuld. Shuld find Bing.
And when the rescue people finally pulled her out of the water, she still had her nengkan intact. Her hair, her clothes, they were all heay with thld water, but she stood quietly, d regal as a rid queen who had just arried out of the sea. The police called off the search, put us all in our car, a us ho to griee.
I had epected to be beaten to death, by father, by ther, by sisters and brothers. I k was fau. I hadnt watched hiclosely enough, a I saw hi But as we sat in the dark liing roo I heard the one by one whispering their regrets.
quot;I was selfish to want to go fishing,quot; said father.
quot;We shouldnt hae gone for a walk,quot; said Janice, while Ruth blew her ai.
quot;Whyd you hae to throw sand in face?quot; aned Luke. quot;Whyd you hae to ke start a fight?quot;
And ther quietly adtted to , quot;I told you to stop their fight. I told you to take your eyes off hiquot;
If I had had any ti at all to feel a sense of relief, it would hae quickly eaporated, because ther also said, quot;So now I atelling you, we st go and find hi quickly, torrow quot; And eerybodys eyes looked down. But I saw it as  unishnt: to go out with ther, back to the beach, to help her find Bings body.
Nothing prepared for what ther did the day. When I woke up, it was still dark and she was already dressed. O table was a thers, a teacup, the white leatherette Bible, and the car keys.
quot;Is Daddy ready?quot; I asked.
quot;Daddys not ing,quot; she said.
quot;Then how will we get there? Who will drie us?quot;
She picked up the keys and I followed her out the door to the car. I wohe whole ti as we droe to the beach how she had learo drie ht. She used no p. She droe sothly ahead, turning down Geary, then the Great Highway, signaling at all the right tis, getting o Highway and easily winding the car around the sharp cures that often led ineperienced driers off ahe cliffs.
When we arried at the beach, she walked iediately down the dirt path ao the end of the reef ledge, where I had seen Bing disappear. She held in her hand the white Bible. And looking out oer the water, she called to God, her sll oice carried up by the gulls to heaen. It began with quot;Dear Godquot; and ended with quot;An,quot; and iween she spoke in ese.
quot;I hae always belieed in your blessings,quot; she praised God in that sa tone she used fgerated ese plints. quot;We khey would e. We did not question the Your decisions were our decisions. You rewarded us for our faith.
quot;Iurn we hae always tried to show our deepest respect. We went to your house. We brought you ney. We sang your songs. You gae us re blessings. And now ced one of the We were careless. This is true. We had so ny good things, wuldhein our nd all the ti.
quot;So ybe you hid hifrous to teach us a lesson, to be re careful with yifts iure. I hae learhis. I hae put it in ry. And now I hae e to take Bing back.quot;
I listened quietly as ther said these words, horrifed. And I began to cry when she added, quot;Fie us for his bad nners. My daughter, this oanding here, will be sure to teach hibetter lessons of obedience before he isits you again.quot;
After her prayer, her faith was so great that she saw hi three tis, waing to her frojust beyond the first wae. quot;Nale!quot;—There! And she would stand straight as a sentinel, until three tis her eyesight failed her and Bing turned into a dark spot of ing seaweed.
My ther did not let her fall down. She walked back to the bead put the Bible down. She picked up the thers and teacup and walked to the waters edge. Theold that the night before she had reached bato her life, back when she was a girl in a, and this is what she had found.
quot;I reer a boy who lost his hand in a firecracker act,quot; she said. quot;I saw the shreds of this boys ar his tears, and then I heard his thers cithat he would grow baother hand, better tha. This ther said she would pay ba aral debt ten tis oer. She would use a water treatnt to soothe the wrath of Chu Jung, the three-eyed god of fire. And true enough, the week this boy was riding a bicycle, both hands steering a straighurse past astonished eyes!quot;
And then ther beca ery quiet. She spoke again in a thoughtful, respectful nner.
quot;An aor of ours oole water froa sacred well. Now the water is trying to steal back. We st sweeteeer of the iling Dragon who lies in the sea. And the ke hiloosen hiils froBing by giing hiareasure he hide.quot;
My ther poured out tea sweetened with sugar into the teacup, and threw this into the sea. And then she opened her fist. In her palwas a ring of watery blue sapphire, a gift froher ther, who had died ny years before. This ring, she told , dreeting stares frowon aheiie to the children they guarded so jealously. This would ke the iling Dragoful of Bing. She threw the ring into the water.
But een with this, Bing did not appear right away. For an hour or so, all we saw was seaweed drifting by. And then I saw her csp her hands to her chest, and she said in a wondrous oice, quot;See, its because we were watg the wrong dire.quot; And I too saw Bing trudging wearily at the far end of the beach, his shoes hanging in his hand, his dark head bent oer in ehaustion. uld feel what ther fe. The hunger in our hearts was instantly filled. And thewo of us, before wuld eeo our feet, saw hilight a cigarette, grow tall, and bee a stranger.
quot;Ma, lets go,quot; I said as softly as possible.
quot;Hes there,quot; she said firy. She poio the jagged wall across the water. quot;I see hi He is in a cae, sitting on a little step aboe the water. He is hungry and a littlld, but he has learned now not to pin too ch.quot;
And theood up and started walking across the sandy beach as though it were a solid paed path, and I was trying to follow behind, struggling and stuling in the soft unds. She rched up the steep path to where the car arked, and she wasnt eehing hard as she pulled a rge iube frothe trunk. To this lifesaer, she tied the fishing line fro fathers baoo pole. She walked bad threw the tube into the sea, holding onto the pole.
quot;This will go where Bing is. I will bring hiback,quot; she said fiercely. I had neer heard so engkan in thers oice.
The tube followed her nd. It drifted out, toward the other side of the where it was caught by stronger waes. The liaut and she straio hold on tight. But the line snapped and then spiraled into the water.
We both clied toward the end of the reef to watch. The tube had now reached the other side of the. A big wae sshed it into the wall. The bloated tube leapt up and then it was sucked in, uhe wall and into a . It popped out. Oer and ain, it disappeared, erged, glistening bck, faithfully rep it had seen Bing and was going back to try to pluck hifrothe cae. Oer and ain, it doe and popped back up agaiy but still hopeful. And then, after a dozen or so tis, it was sucked into the dark recess, and when it ca out, it was torn and lifeless.
At that nt, and not until that nt, did she gie up. My ther had a look on her face that Ill neer fet. It was one of plete despair and horror, for losing Bing, for being so foolish as to think shuld use faith to ge fate. And it de angry—so blindingly angry—that eerything had failed us.
I know now that I had neer epected to find Bing, just as I knoill neer find a way to sae rriage. My ther tells , though, that I should still try.
quot;Whats the point?quot; I say. quot;Theres no hope. Theres no reason to keep trying.quot;
quot;Because you st,quot; she says. quot;This is not hope. Not reason. This is your fate. This is your life, what you st do.quot;
quot;So what I do?quot;
And ther says, quot;You st think for yourself, what you st do. If sooells you, then you are n.quot; And then she walks out of the kit to let think about this.
I think about Bing, how I knew he was in danger, how I let it happen. I think about rriage, how I had seen the signs, really I had. But I just let it happen. And I think now that fate is shaped half by epectation, half by iion. But sohow, when you lose sothing you loe, faith takes oer. You hae to pay attention to what you lost. You hae to undo the epectation.
My ther, she still pays attention to it. That Bible uhe table, I know she sees it. I reer seeing her write in it before she wedged it under.
I lift the table and slide the Bible out. I put the Bible oable, flipping quickly through the pages, because I know its there. On the page before the estant begins, theres a se called quot;Deaths,quot; and thats where she wrote quot;Bing Hsuquot; lightly, in erasable pencil.
Half and Half Up
Two Kinds
Jing-Mei Woo
My ther belieed yould be anything you wao be in Arica. Yould open a restaurant. Yould work for the good retirent. Yould buy a house with alst no ney down. Yould bee rich. Yould bee instantly faus.
quot;Ourse you be prodigy, too,quot; ther told when I was nine. quot;You be best anything. What does Auntie Lindo know? Her daughter, she is only best tricky.quot;
Arica was where all thers hopes y. She had e here in 1949 after losihing in a: her ther and father, her faly ho, her first husband, and two daughters, twin baby girls. But she neer looked back with regret. There were so ny ways for things to get better.
We didely pick the right kind y. At first ther thought uld be a ese Shirley Tele. Wed watch Shirleys old ies on TV as though they were training fil. My ther would poke arand say, quot;Ni kanquot;—You watch. And I would see Shirley tapping her feet, or singing a sailor song, or pursing her lips into a ery round O while saying, quot;Oh goodness.quot;
quot;Ni kan,quot; said ther as Shirleys eyes flooded with tears. quot;You already know how. Doalent f!quot;
Soon after t this idea about Shirley Tele, she took to a beauty training school in the Mission distrid put in the hands of a student whuld barely hold the scissors without shaking. Instead of getting big fat curls, I erged with an uneen ss of kly bck fuzz. My ther dragged off to the bathrooand tried to wet down hair.
quot;You look like Negro ese,quot; she nted, as if I had dohis on purpose.
The instructor of the beauty training school had to lop off these soggy clus to ke hair een again. quot;Peter Pan is ery popur these days,quot; the instructor assured ther. I now had hair the length of a boys, with straight-across bangs that hung at a snt two inches aboe eyebrows. I liked the haircut and it de actually look forward to future fa.
In fact, in the beginning, I was just as ecited as ther, ybe een re so. I pictured this prodigy part of as ny different iges, trying eae on for size. I was a dainty ballerina girl standing by the curtains, waiting to hear the right sic that would send floating on tiptoes. I was like the Christ child lifted out of the straw nger, g with holy indignity. I was derel stepping froher pukin carriage with sparkly usic filling the air.
In all of iginings, I was filled with a sehat I would soon bee perfect. My ther and father would adore . I would be beyond reproach. I would neer feel the o sulk for anything.
But sotis the prodigy in beca iatient. quot;If you dont hurry up a out of here, Idisappearing food,quot; it warned. quot;And then youll always be nothing.quot;
Eery night after dinner, ther and I would sit at the Forca kit table. She would preseests, taking her eales frostories of azing children she had read in Ripleys Beliee It or Not, ood Housekeeping, Readers Digest, and a dozen azines she kept in a pile in our bathroo My t these gazines fropeople whose houses she ed. And since she ed ny houses each week, we had a great assortnt. She would look through theall, searg for stories about rerkable children.
The first night she brought out a story about a three-year-old boy who khe capitals of all the states a of the European tries. A teacher was quoted as saying the little bould also pronouhe nas of the fn citierrectly.
quot;Whats the capital of Finnd?quot; ther asked , looking at the gaziory.
All I knew was the capital of California, because Sato was the na of the street we lied on in atown. quot;Nairobi!quot; I guessed, saying the st fn word uld think of. She checked to see if that ossibly one way to pronounce quot; Helsinkiquot; before showihe answer.
The tests got harder—iplying nuers in head, finding the queen of hearts in a deck of cards, trying to stand on head without using hands, predig the daily teeratures in Los Angeles, New York, and London.
One night I had to look at a page frothe Bible for three nutes and the eerything uld reer. quot;Now Jehoshaphat had riches and honor in abundand…thats all I reer, Ma,quot; I said.
And after seeing thers disappointed face again, sothing inside of began to die. I hated the tests, the raised hopes and failed epectations. Befoing to bed that night, I looked in the rror aboe the bathroosink and when I saw only face staring bad that it would always be this ordinary face—I began to cry. Such a sad, ugly girl! I de highpitched noises like a crazed anil, trying to scratch out the fa the rror.
And then I saw what seed to be the prodigy side of —because I had neer seen that face before. I looked at refle, blinking so uld see re clearly. The girl staring back;cite;/cite at was angry, powerful. This girl and I were the sa. I had houghts, willful thoughts, or rather thoughts filled with lots of wonts. I we , I prosed self. I wont be what Inot.
So now on nights when ther presented her tests, I perford listlessly, head propped on one ar I preteo be bored. And I was. I got so bored I started ting the bellows of the foghorns out on the bay while ther drilled in other areas. The sound was f and rended of thw juihe on. And the day, I pyed a ga with self, seeing if ther would gie up on before eight bellows. After a while I usually ted only one, ybe two bellows at st. At st she was beginning to gie up hope.
Two or three nths had gone by without aion of being a prodigy again. And then one day ther was watg The Ed Sullian Show on TV. The TV was old and the sou sh out. Eery ti t half frothe sofa to adjust the set, the sound would go ba and Ed would be talking. As soon as she sat down, Ed would go silent again. She got up, the TV broke into loud piano sic. She sat down. Silence. Up and down, bad forth, quiet and loud. It was like a stiff eraceless daween her and the TV set. Finally she stood by the set with her hand on the sound dial.
She seed entranced by the sic, a little frenzied piano piece with this srizing quality, sort of quick passages and then teasing liing ones before it returo the quick pyful parts.
quot;Ni kan,quot; ther said, calling oer with hurried haures, quot;Look here.quot;
uld see why ther was fasated by the sic. It was being pounded out by a little ese girl, about nine years old, with a Peter Pan haircut. The girl had the sauess of a Shirley Tele. She roudly dest like a proper ese child. And she also did this fancy sweep of a curtsy, so that the fluffy skirt of her white dress cascaded slowly to the floor like the petals of a rge ation.
In spite of these warning signs, I wasnt worried. Our faly had no piano and wuldnt afford to buy one, let alone rea of sheet sid piano lessons. So uld be generous in ents when ther bad-uthed the little girl on TV.
quot;Py nht, but doesnt sound good! No singing sound,quot; pined ther.
quot;What are you pig on her for?quot; I said carelessly. quot;Shes pretty good. Maybe shes not the best, but shes trying hard.quot; I knew alst iediately I would be sorry I said that.
quot;Just like you,quot; she said. quot;Not the best. Because you n.quot; She gae a little huff as she let go of the sound dial and sat down on the sofa.
The little ese girl sat down also to py an re of quot;Anitras Da; by Grieg. I reer the song, because ter on I had to learn how to py it.
Three days after watg The Ed Sullian Show, ther told what schedule would be for piano lessons and piano practice. She had talked t, who lied on the first floor of our apartnt building. Mr. g was a retired piano teacher and ther had traded houseing serices for weekly lessons and a piano for to practi eery day, two hours a day, frofour until si.
When ther told this, I fe as though I had beeo hell. I whined and then kicked foot a little when uldnt stand it anyre.
quot;Why dont you like the way I a Inot a genius! I t py the piano. And een if uld, I wouldnt go on TV if you paid a llion dolrs!quot; I cried.
My ther spped . quot;Who ask you be genius?quot; she shouted. quot;Only ask you be your best. For you sake. You think I want you be genius? Hnnh! What for! Who ask you!quot;
quot;So ungrateful,quot; I heard her tter in ese. quot;If she had as ch talent as she has teer, she would be faus no;quot;
Mr. g, whoI secretly niad Old g, was ery strange, always tapping his fio the silent sic of an inisible orchestra. He looked a in eyes. He had lost st of the hair on top of his head and he wore thick gsses and had eyes that always looked tired and sleepy. But he st hae been youhan I thought, since he lied with his ther and was not yet rried.
I t Old Lady g ond that was enough. She had this peculiar sll like a baby that had dohing in its pants. And her fingers fe like a dead persons, like an old peach I once found in the back of the refrigerator; the skin just slid off the at when I picked it up.
I soon found out why Old g had retired froteag piano. He was deaf. quot;Like Beethoen!quot; he shouted to . quot;Were both listening only in our head!quot; And he would start to duct his frantic silent sonatas.
Our lesso like this. He would open the book and point to different things, epining their purpose: quot;Key! Treble! Bass! No sharps or fts! So this is C jor! Listen noy after !quot;
And then he would py the C scale a few tis, a sile chord, and then, as if inspired by an old, unreachable itch, he gradually added re notes and running trills and a pounding bass until the sic was really sothing quite grand.
I would py after hi the sile scale, the sile chord, and then I just pyed so sounded like a cat running up and down on top of garbage s. Old g sled and appuded and then said, quot;Very good! But now you st learn to keep ti!quot;
So thats how I dered that Old gs eyes were too slow to keep up with the wrong notes I ying. He went through the tions in half-ti. To help keep rhyth he stood behind , pushing down on right shoulder for eery beat. He banced pennies on top of wrists so I would keep thestill as I slowly pyed scales and arpeggios. He had cure hand around an apple ahat shape when pying chords. He rched stiffly to show how to ke each finger dance up and down, staato like an obedient little soldier.
He taught all these things, and that was how I also learned uld be zy a away with stakes, lots of stakes. If I hit the wrong notes because I hadnt practiced enough, I neerrected self. I just kept pying in rhyth And Old g kept dug his own priate reerie.
So ybe I neer really gae self a fair ce. I did pick up the basics pretty quickly, and I ght hae bee a good pianist at that young age. But I was so deterned not to try, not to be anybody different that I learo py only the st ear-splitting preludes, the st drdant hys.
Oer the year, I practiced like this, dutifully in own way. And then one day I heard ther and her friend Lindo Jong both talking in a loud bragging tone of oice so otheruld hear. It was after church, and I was leaning against the brick wall wearing a dress with stiff white petats. Auntie Lindos daughter, Waerly, who was about age, was standing farther down the wall about fie feet away. We had grown up together and shared all the closeness of two sisters squabbling oer crayons and dolls. In other words, for the st part, we hated each other. I thought she was snotty. Waerly Jong had gained a certain aunt of fa as quot;atowns Littlest ese Chess Chaion.quot;
quot;She bring ho too ny trophy,quot; nted Auntie Lindo that Sunday. quot;All day she py chess. All day I hae no ti do nothing but dust off her winnings.quot; She threw alding look at Waerly, who pretended not to see her.
quot;You lucky you dont hae this problequot; said Auntie Lindo with a sigh to ther.
And ther squared her shoulders and bragged: quot;Our probleworser than yours. If we ask Jing-i wash dish, she hear nothing but sic. Its like you t stop this natural talent.quot;
And right then, I was detero put a stop to her foolish pride.
A few weeks ter, Old g and ther spired to hae  y in a talent show which would be held in the church hall. By then,  arents had saed up enough to buy a sedhand piano, a bck Wurlitzer spi with a scarred bench. It was the showpiece of our liing roo
For the talent show, I was to py a piece called quot;Pleading Childquot; froSs Ses froChildhood. It was a sile, ody piece that sounded re difficu than it was. I was supposed to rize the whole thing, pying the repeat parts twiake the piece sound longer. But I dawdled oer it, pying a few bars and theing, looking up to see what notes followed. I neer really listeo what I ying. I daydread about being sowhere else, about being soone else.
The part I liked to practice best was the fancy curtsy: right foot out, touch the rose on the carpet with a pointed foot, sweep to the side, left leg bends, look up and sle.
My parents inited all thuples frothe Joy Luck Club to witness debut. Auntie Lindo and Uihere. Waerly awo older brothers had also e. The first two rows were filled with children both younger and older than I was. The littlest ones got to go first. They recited sile nursery rhys, squawked out tunes on niature iolins, twirled Hu Hoops, pranced in pink ballet tutus, and when they bowed or curtsied, the audi;sa..;/saence would sigh in unison, quot;A,quot; and then thusiastically.
When turn ca, I was ery fident. I reer childish et. It was as if I knew, without a doubt, that the prodigy side of really did eist. I had no fear whatsoeer, no nerousness. I reer thinking to self, This is it! This is it! I looked out oer the audie thers bnk fabsp; fathers yawn, Auntie Lindos stiff-lipped sle, Waerlys sulky epression. I had on a white dress yered with sheets of ce, and a pink bow in Peter Pan haircut. As I sat down I enisioned people juing to their feet and Ed Sullian rushing up to introdubsp; to eeryone on TV.
And I started to py. It was so beautiful. I was so caught up in how loely I looked that at first I didnt worry how I would sound. So it was a surprise to when I hit the first wrong note and I realized sothing didnt sound quite right. And then I hit another and another followed that. A chill started at the top of head and began to trickle dow uldnt stop pying, as though hands were bewitched. I kept thinking fingers would adjust theeles back, like a train switg to the right track. I pyed this strange jule through two repeats, the sour aying with all the way to the end.
When I stood up, I dered legs were shaking. Maybe I had just been nerous and the audience, like Old g, had seen gh the right tions and had not heard anything wrong at all. I swept right foot out, went down on knee, looked up and sled. The roowas quiet, ecept for Old g, who was beang and shouting, quot;Brao! Brao! Well done!quot; But then I saw thers face, her stri face. The audience cpped weakly, and as I walked bay chair, with whole face quiering as I tried not to cry, I heard a little boy whisper loudly to his ther, quot;That was awful,quot; and the ther whispered back, quot;Well, she certainly tried.quot;
And now I realized hoeople were in the audiehe whole world it seed. I was aware of eyes burning into back. I fe the sha of ther and father as they sat stiffly throughout the rest of the show.
Wuld hae escaped during interssion. Pride and se sense of honor st hae anchored  arents to their chairs. And so we watched it all: the eighteen-year-old boy with a fake stache who did a gic show and juggled fng hoops while riding a unicycle. The breasted girl with white keup who sang froMada Butterfly and got honorable ntion. And the eleen-year-old boy who won first prize pying a tricky iolin song that sounded like a busy bee.
After the show, the Hsus, the Jongs, and the St. Cirs frothe Joy Luck Club ca up to ther and father.
quot;Lots of talented kids,quot; Auntie Lindo sai;big;/bigd aguely, sling broadly.
quot;That was sothin else,quot; said father, and I wondered if he was referring to in a hurous way, or whether he een reered what I had done.
Waerly looked at and shrugged her shoulders. quot;You arent a genius like ,quot; she said tter-of-factly. And if I had so bad, I would hae pulled her braids and punched her stoch.
But thers epression was what deastated : a quiet, bnk look that said she had lost eerything. I fe the sa way, and it seed as if eerybody were now ing up, like gawkers at the se of an act, to see arts were actually ssing. Whe on the bus to go ho, father was huing the busy-bee tune and ther was silent. I kept thinking she wao wait until we got ho before shouting at . But when father unlocked the door to our apartnt, ther walked in and theo the back, into the bedroo No ausations. No b. And in a way, I fe disappointed. I had been waiting for her to start shouting, so uld shout bad cry and b her for all sery.
I assud talent-show fiaseant I neer had to py the piano again. But two days ter, after sy ther ca out of the kit and saw watg TV.
quot;Four clock,quot; she rended as if it were any other day. I was stunned, as though she were askio gh the talent-show tain. I wedged self re tightly in front of the TV.
quot;Turn off TV,quot; she called frothe kit fie er.
I didnt budge. And then I decided. I didnt hae to do what ther said anyre. I wasnt her se. This wasnt a. I had listeo her before and look what happened. She was the stupid one.
She ca out frothe kit and stood in the arched entryway of the liing roo quot;Four clock,quot; she said once again, louder.
quot;Inot going to py anyre,quot; I said nontly. quot;Why should I? Inot a genius.quot;
She walked oer and stood in front of the TV. I saw her chest was heaing up and down in an angry way.
quot;No!quot; I said, ;bdi.9９lｉｂ?;/bdiand I now fe stronger, as if true self had finally erged. So this was what had been inside all along.
quot;No! I wont!quot; I scread.
She yanked by the ar pulled off the floor, snapped off the TV. She was frighteningly strong, half pulling, half carryioward the piano as I kicked the thrs under feet. She lifted up and onto the hard bench. I was sobbing by now, looking at her bitterly. Her chest was heaing een re ah en, sling crazily as if she were pleased I was g.
quot;You wao be soohat Inot!quot; I sobbed. quot;Ill neer be the kind of daughter you wao be!quot;
quot;Only two kinds of daughters,quot; she shouted in ese. quot;Those who are obedient and those who follow their own nd! Only one kind of daughter lie in this house. Obedient daughter!quot;
quot;Then I wish I wasnt your daughter. I wish you werent ther,quot; I shouted. As I said these things I got scared. It fe like wor and toads and sli things crawling out of chest, but it also fe good, as if this awful side of had surfaced, at st.
quot;Too te ge this,quot; said ther shrilly.
And uld sense her anger rising to its breaking point. I wao see it spill oer. And thats when I reered the babies she had lost in a, the ones we alked about. quot;Then I wish Id neer been born!quot; I shouted. quot;I wish I were dead! Like thequot;
It was as if I had said the gic words. Akaza—and her face went bnk, her uth closed, her ar went sck, and she backed out of the roo stunned, as if she were blowing away like a sll brown leaf, thin, brittle, lifeless.
It was not the only disappoi ther fe in . In the years that followed, I failed her so ny tis, each ti asserting own will, right to fall short of epectations. I didraight As. I didnt bee css president. I did into Stanford. I dropped out ollege.
For unlike ther, I did not beliee uld be anything I wao be. uld only be .
And for all those years, we alked about the disaster at the recital or terrible ausations afterward at the piano bench. All that reined unchecked, like a betrayal that was now unspeakable. So I neer found a way to ask her why she had hoped for sothihat failure was iable.
And een worse, I neer asked her what frightened the st: Why had she gien up hope?
For after our struggle at the piano, she ioned  ying again. The lessons stopped. The lid to the piano was closed, shutting out the dust, sery, and her drea.
So she surprised . A few years ago, she offered to gie the piano, for thirtieth birthday. I had not pyed in all those years. I saw the offer as a sign of fieness, a trendous burden reed.
quot;Are you sure?quot; I asked shyly. quot;I an, wont you and Dad ss it?quot;
quot;No, this your piano,quot; she said firy. quot;Always your piano. You only one  y.quot;
quot;Well, I probably t py anyre,quot; I said. quot;Its been years.quot;
quot;You pick up fast,quot; said ther, as if she khis was certain. quot;You hae natural talent. Yould been genius if you want to.quot;
quot;No uldnt.quot;
quot;You just n,quot; said ther. And she was her angry nor sad. She said it as if to announce a fact thauld neer be disproed. quot;Take it,quot; she said.
But I didnt at first. It was enough that she had offered it to . And after that, eery ti I saw it in  arents liing roo standing in front of the bay windows, it de feel proud, as if it were a shiny trophy I had won back.
Last week I sent a tuner oer to  arents apartnt and had the piaioned, for purely seal reasons. My ther had died a few nths before and I had beeing things in order for father, a little bit at a ti. I put the jewelry in special silk pouches. The sweaters she had knitted in yellow, pink, bright e—all thlors I hated—I put those in th-proof boes. I found so old ese silk dresses, the kind with little slits up the sides. I rubbed the old silk against skin, thehein tissue and decided to take theho with .
After I had the piano tuned, I opehe lid and touched the keys. It sounded een richer than I reered. Really, it was a ery good piano. Ihe bench were the sa eercise notes with handwritten scales, the sa sedhand sic books with theiers held together with yelloe.
I opened up the S book to the dark little piece I had pyed at the recital. It was on the left-hand side of the page, quot;Pleading Child.quot; It looked re difficu than I reered. I pyed a few bars, surprised at how easily the notes ca bae.
And for the first ti, or so it seed, I noticed the pie the right-hand side. It was called quot;Perfectly tented.quot; I tried to py this one as well. It had a lighter lody but the sa flowing rhythand turned out to be quite easy. quot;Pleading Childquot; was shorter but slower; quot;Perfectly tentedquot; was longer, but faster. And after I pyed theboth a few tis, I realized they were two hales of the sa song.
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