Red Thread Sisters (9781101591857) (13 page)

 

I miss you every day.

Love from your mei mei

On Christmas Day, Grandma Jackson arrived, wearing a little bunch of bells on her coat.

“Oh, my granddaughters!” She pulled Wen and Emily close to her.

The pile of gifts under the tree had grown. So many presents! Enough for each kid at the orphanage. Everybody took turns opening their gifts.

At dinner, Wen's father raised the mug Wen had given him. “Toast! A toast to all our family. To all those here at this table and to those far away, not able to join us today.”

Wen felt a stab: Shu Ling wasn't here because Wen hadn't asked soon enough, when her father still had a job. And now Shu Ling was still at the orphanage, her leg getting colder and colder.

Wen's mother passed around heaping plates of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and string beans. Her father drank from his new coffee mug. Emily had propped her new stuffed bear against her plate, and her mother smelled especially strong of lemon.

So much food
, Wen thought.
So many presents from under that tree.
Compared to the orphanage, her family had so much. Wen imagined Shu Ling licking the Christmas vinegar from her dumplings.

Would Shu Ling really be an extra, even now?

Wen tried to push the question away. But as the others chattered and ate around her, the question kept tugging inside her.

You already know the answer,
Wen told herself.
Don't ask.

But so little time was left before Shu Ling turned fourteen. Seventeen days.

While her mother served seconds, Wen felt her question ready to burst. She couldn't hold back any longer.

“Have something to ask whole family,” Wen blurted.

“Go on, Wen.” Her mother looked up, surprised.

“Know we cut out extras. Know Dad just working at the Regal place until he finds computer job. But—” Wen felt dizzy and her breathing came hard. “But,” Wen persisted, “is it possible, our family can adopt Shu Ling?”

Wen waited. Nobody spoke. Nobody even ate.

“You . . .” Her mother faltered. “Wen, you want us to adopt Shu Ling?”

Her father and mother exchanged glances.

“Oh, Wen,” her father said. “Money's so tight. We can't afford another child.”

“Shu Ling sleep on my bed number two. She not eat much. Wear my clothes. Not take up much space. Maybe we have yard sale, make more monies for her,” Wen said.

“It's not that, Wen. Until I get a job, we don't have an extra dime. We couldn't even afford the adoption fees or the flight to China right now.”

Wen blinked away hot tears. “But we have big dinner, big tree, many presents.”

“I know that compared to the orphanage, we seem really rich. But we just don't have a cushion, Wen,” her mother said.

“Cushion,” her father explained. “Extra money. We don't even have enough money to pay all of our bills on time.”

“We know how much you love her, Wen. We really do. But we just can't afford it, do you understand?” her mother asked.

Wen gulped back her tears and felt them stuck in her throat.

“Cannot adopt Shu Ling,” Wen said. She gazed around the table. Her father was wiping his forehead. Emily stirred her mashed potatoes. Her grandmother had her arm around the back of her mother's chair. Her mother was dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

Wen lowered her head and stared at her plate. Through her eyelashes, she saw Emily's little hand move her stuffed bear across the table and prop it against Wen's own glass of milk.

“Wen, are you OK, honey?” Her father rubbed her arm.

“OK,” said Wen dully. “I know, no monies.”

“You're bound to find Shu Ling a family any day now, sweetie,” her mother soothed.

Grandma Jackson took off her stole. “Wen's chilled, Chris. Wen, darling, wear this.”

Wen's mother stood up and wrapped the stole around Wen. Then, very briefly she put her arms around her. “We're so sorry, Wen.”

Wen tried to force a smile, but her face stayed expressionless.

She was quiet for the rest of the meal. Her father tried to tell funny stories about Regal Electronics, and Grandma Jackson talked about the people at her retirement home. Emily told knock-knock jokes. But Wen felt their eyes stray toward her.

After Grandma Jackson went home that night, Wen and Emily threw away all the torn-up wrapping paper and vacuumed up all the pine needles around the tree. Wen's mother stacked up the gifts in neat piles, and her father cleaned the kitchen. Then Christmas was over.

When she finally slept, Wen dreamed she was racing through the dark orphanage, calling for Shu Ling. She tore to the common room, where Shu Ling might be eating noodles as she squatted on the cement floor. But Shu Ling wasn't there. Down the hall, Wen heard crying. She sped to the infant room and searched the cribs, but Shu Ling wasn't feeding the babies. She ran into the girls' bedroom, toward Shu Ling's cot.

Suddenly Director Feng towered over her.

“You are looking for Shen Shu Ling?” He leered. “She waited for you on the hill, for the news of her lucky day. But you broke your promise. There was no one here to take care of her leg. The skin turned black and Dr. Han had to amputate. But he was too late.”

“Shu Ling!” Wen cried at Shu Ling's bed. Under the thin blanket, she could detect the stump that had been Shu Ling's leg. Wen knelt by Shu Ling's head and heard her breathing in short, shallow gasps, as if she were suffocating. Her lungs were giving out.

“Where is the family you promised me?” Shu Ling whispered.

“I'm so sorry.” In tears, Wen tried to stroke Shu Ling's hair. But Shu Ling shrunk back, away from her. Wen put her head on Shu Ling's chest and heard her heart beat slower and slower. Wen took Shu Ling into her arms. For a moment, her eyes met Wen's.

“
Mei mei
,” she whispered.

Then she rolled back, heaving a final gasp.

And then Shu Ling died.

Wen woke herself up with a scream. Her sheets were drenched in sweat.

Just a nightmare,
she told herself.

But when she thought of Shu Ling dying in the orphanage, her own breathing came in short gasps, as if she too were shutting down. Wen plunged into a deep darkness that no holiday light could pierce.

twenty-three

Hey, how did Christmas go?

 

A text from Hannah! Using her thumbs the way Hannah had taught her, Wen picked out the letters to text back:

 

So much happened! How was seeing your father?

 

Wen waited until she heard a beep and then opened the “Hannah” envelope on her phone screen.

 

Ugh he left right after dinner even tho he said he was gonna stay longer and then said he might come back yesterday. Obviously he didn't. What happened with you?

 

Wen tapped a lot of wrong keys, had to press Clear, and finally hit the Send button.

 

I asked my family to adopt Shu Ling but they said no. Not enough money. I don't get it, we have a ton of food in our house. Except bacon.

 

Another beep.

 

That stinks! Maybe they want to but they're scared things will get worse, especially with your dad not having a job.

 

Wen tapped back:

 

He has job. Regal Electronics.

 

From Hannah:

 

Maybe it's not enough. They should adopt her but I learned that sometimes parents know things, more is going on than you might think. Did they seem sorry tho?

 

Wen texted back.

 

Yeah they all felt bad. Tried to feed me chocolate.

 

Hannah replied:

 

Still stinks! How many days left?

 

Wen knew instantly.

 

2 weeks and 2 days.

 

Then a beep.

 

Not much time. Gotta go to Maine now. Mom yelling at me. I'm sure someone will pick Shu Ling soon.

 

The next day, Wen switched between the different advocacy blogs, all urging people to choose Shu Ling. Why wasn't anybody adopting her? What was going wrong?

Wen picked up the phone. Maybe Nancy Lin would know what the problem was.

“Hello, Wen. Always such a pleasure to hear from you,” Nancy said.

“Nancy, have big question,” said Wen. “I do everything. I post with online group lookout people. I find her, I rewrite description, I add portrait. I contact all the stand-up people, Shu Ling on all the
ad-vo-ca-cy
blogs. So why nobody see her and say, that's our daughter? Why?”

“Oh, Wen. You've done everything right.” Nancy sighed. “Don't give up yet.”

“Not giving up,” Wen said. “Just asking.”

She could hear Nancy take a deep breath. “You've been an amazing advocate for your friend,” Nancy said. “Unfortunately, there are thousands of waiting children, Wen. Thousands. And not as many families ready to adopt these children. A single child, especially one who's getting older, sometimes just doesn't get picked, no matter how nice she is.”

Thousands of kids.

Wen half-listened as Nancy said in her hopeful voice there was plenty of time, not to get discouraged.

But all Wen heard was
thousands of kids
, and all she saw was the shrinking row of days remaining.

twenty-four

“It snowed last night, Wennie!” Emily woke Wen by pouncing on her bed. Wen glanced outside the window. Ice-coated tree branches bent to the ground in graceful curves, like cranes' necks. Snowdrifts piled high as hills glittered in the sun.

“Have you ever seen so much snow before, Wennie?”

“Have big blizzards in China, sometimes make furnaces go out.” Wen shivered, remembering Shu Ling and her leg.

“Not here. Too bad it's vacation. If it were during school, we would have had a Snow Day!” Emily told her.

“What is this Snow Day?” Wen asked.

“No school, Wennie. Come on, let's go sledding in the park.” Emily got off Wen's bed. “Hurry up!”

From the hall closet, Emily pulled out two big plastic saucers, one pink and the other bright yellow.

“How go down hill on dishes?” Wen asked.

“Get dressed. I'll show you.”

Wen eyed the computer in the kitchen. She had planned to e-mail Sandy, Tom, and the other bloggers. Thirteen days remained. Less than two weeks.

“Sorry. I cannot. Much to do this morning,” said Wen.

“Do?” Emily repeated. “What's better than sledding, especially if you've never been, Wen?”

“On computer,” Wen began.

“You're always on the computer!” Emily accused. “You never play with me! You never watch cartoons with me. You never read books with me. You just look for that girl on that stupid computer!”

Hands on her hips, Emily screamed, “Everybody was so excited about you, Wen! ‘Oh good,' they said. ‘Now you'll have a big sister.' But all you care about is that other sister of yours. She isn't even your real sister. I'm your real sister. But you don't act that way. You know something, Wen?” Emily glowered as she spat out her words. “I wish you never came here!”

She grabbed her pink sled and tore out of the house.

As if she'd been hit, Wen sunk and sat, paralyzed, on the other sled. Around her, the air seemed to vibrate with Emily's words, swirling like angry hornets around her.

Then Wen noticed Emily's parka lying on the floor. She'd been so mad, she'd left the house with no jacket. Emily would get too cold without it.

Wen zipped up her own coat, threw Emily's jacket over her arm, and jogged toward the park. Shading her eyes, she scanned the slope for Emily. Wen saw Michelle and Sophie, and a skinny boy with a shaved head from Wen's class who always got in trouble for thumb wrestling. But no Emily.

Then Wen spotted her, her little body shivering in jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Emily,” Wen called, “you forgot your jacket!”

But Emily had already flung herself on her sled and didn't hear her.

Across from Wen, kids sped down the slope, snow scattering as they flew.

“Time for a train! Make a long line and hold tight onto the sled in front of you,” yelled a boy Wen recognized from the bus stop.

Wen spied Emily and one of her friends piled on Emily's pink saucer, gripping the sled in front of them.

“Everyone push on the snow to get us started,” ordered the boy at the head of the train.

“Go!” shouted another girl in Wen's class.

Wen stood to the side as the train picked up speed and flew down the hill. At the bottom, the sleds piled up in a heap.

Then Wen heard screaming.

“My leg, my leg!” Emily wailed. She lay writhing on the snow.

“Randy's metal sled smashed into it,” some kid shouted.

“It's bleeding really bad,” another kid said. “Gross.”

The kids clustered around Emily.

“Move, please, that's my sister!” Wen screamed, pushing her way through the crowd to Emily, who was paler than the snow. Blood seeped out of cuts on her cheeks. Crouching over Emily, Wen took a clean tissue from her pocket and pressed the tissue over Emily's gashes, just the way she had stopped the toddlers' bleeding shins and knees at the orphanage.

“Emily, we get you home right away. You can stand up?”

“I don't know, Wennie,” Emily cried.

“OK, I get you up very slowly. Then you rest your arm on me.” With both hands, Wen pulled Emily up, then let her lean on her arm as they walked home,
stomp-drag, stomp-drag.

Back home, Wen and Emily found their father in the kitchen.

“God, what happened?” he asked. “Is she OK, Wen? Should we call 911?”

“Just cuts, Dad. I stopped the bleeding but we clean them now.”

“I got wounded, Daddy!” Emily exclaimed. “Blood gushed out all over the place. And Wennie rescued me.” Eyes sparkling, she squeezed Wen's hand. “She barged through all the kids and she said, ‘That's my sister.' Just like that.”

Wen grinned. She led Emily to her bedroom, where she and her dad cleaned Emily's cuts. Wen helped Emily take off her wet clothes and dried her with a towel. After that, she bundled Emily into her PJs and tucked her into bed.

Then, bending over, Wen kissed Emily on the forehead. In her ear, she spoke softly.

“Rest now,
mei mei
,” she said.