“You told Mom that you’re not old.”
Her grandmother regarded her. “I see it’s hard to hide anything from you, Mei Yoong. I’ll have to remember that.”
“I noticed because I’m going to study medicine.”
“Yes, I heard from your mother.” Yuk Fong sighed. “It’s an injury from years ago. The pain comes on and off—there’s so much cement in this America. My village was softer under the feet. More grass, more earth. You look up more, see the clouds and the birds and the canopies on the trees. No need to lookdown in case you step on chewing gum or fall into an open gutter.”
Yuk Fong pointed at the ivory brick tower standing high above the other buildings. “What’s that?”
“The campanile. It’s part of my university—students play bells at the top that you can hear all over campus.” Marigold smiled to herself. “They’re reminders to study.”
“Which you don’t need.” Yuk Fong finished her bun and licked her fingers. “Let me tell you, my father was very traditional, even more than yours. He only treasured boys, wanted his sons to become scholars, but they were all lazy buzzards.” She snorted with satisfaction. “He never would have guessed the first one in our family to go to university would be a girl.”
“Is he still alive?”
“He died long before you were born. I wasn’t invited to his home again until his funeral. That’s how it was back then—once you married, you belonged to your husband.”
Marigold heard the strain in Yuk Fong’s voice. “What was your husband like?”
Yuk Fong wrinkled her nose. “A liar addicted to the pipe, but ay, was he charming. I liked Pok Mun more than I should have. Still, it was a mercy that he left me for his second wife.” Yuk Fong noticed Marigold’s blank look. “Your mother hasn’t mentioned Seet Ling?”
“Mom doesn’t talk about her life in Hong Kong.”
Yuk Fong made a humming sound. “Seet Ling was her sai ma,” she said.Second mother.“Men could have multiple wives back then. I never met her.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
“No. The last time I heard from him was after our oldest son died.” Yuk Fong squeezed her fingers as she did whenever her arthritis troubled her. “He... he was a soldier in the People’s Liberation Army.”
“I’m sorry,” said Marigold.
“It was his fate.” Yuk Fong continued walking, her steps heavier. “After that, my mother-in-law cast me out of the Ha Family. I couldn’t blame her—being associated with a Christian was only asking for trouble.” She slowed. “Besides, if she hadn’t thrown me out, I never would have met my second husband.”
Marigold halted midstride. “You married again?”
“Yes.” Her grandmother’s tone warmed. “He was the opposite of Pok Mun, gruff and not charming at all. I thought he disliked me because he’d throw radishes into my basket without a glance. He was better with vegetables than with people. But he’d give me more than the others.” She smiled wanly. “We had five blessed years together.”
“How did you meet?”
“In prison.”
“Prison!”
They were a block away from the church, and Yuk Fong stopped to sit on a bench at a bus stop. “I spent years in and out of jail. The Red Guards burned down my church and dragged us into public meetings. If we didn’t denounce God, we’d be beaten.”
Her grandmother looked small on the wide wooden bench. “My husband was the one who helped me escape. We fled south, lived on a farm until one day he tripped over a root and hit his head. It was just a bump on the head, I thought. We had no doctors since they’d all been sent for reeducation. Three days later...” Yuk Fong’s body clenched. “I knew it would happen, just not this way. I should have warned him to be more careful.”
“What do you mean, youknewit would happen?”
Yuk Fong turned to regard her fully. “You asked why I sleep so little. I’ll tell you.”
A bus stopped and Yuk Fong kept Marigold in suspense, waiting until the passengers disembarked and walked awaybefore she continued. “When I was twelve, I began to have strange dreams. I’d see a handsome husband lying in my bed, white smoke twisting up from his pipe like little ghosts. I’d see my children leaving me.” Yuk Fong’s expression contorted. “I’d see myself in prison, mice nibbling at my shoes, my hair turned gray and my skin as coarse as a tiger’s tongue. Ask yourself now, why I do not like to sleep.”
“You saw the future,” said Marigold, unaware that these were the same words her own mother had spoken long ago. And that was why Yuk Fong smiled.
“Every family has its demons, but ours are a little more wicked than most.” Her grandmother tilted her head. “Do you believe me?”
Marigold’s sisters wouldn’t have, but Marigold nodded, feeling a sudden tingle from the mark beside her eye. “I believe you.”
