Later she comes back covered in cobwebs and dirt from the crawl space.
The next morning, we do our best to perform an Akha naming ceremony. I should have bought a rooster and raised it for Jin to sacrifice. (Deh-ja has pestered me endlessly about this.) Instead, Jin goes to a butcher shop in Monterey Park, watches a chicken get killed and cleaned, and brings it home. After Deh-ja cooks the meal, she dips three strings in each dish, then ties them around Jin’s, the baby’s, and my wrists so we’ll never be separated for long. Then she picks up my son and recites, “Get big! Be strong! Don’t cry! May your crops be good and your animals healthy!”
The name Jin has only one syllable, so we name our baby Jin-ba.
“I hope he’ll be the first in a long line,” Jin says.
My feelings about Akha superstitions have wavered from the time I was a little girl and they’re part of what drove me to ask for Teacher Zhang’s help so many years ago, but if even one of Deh-ja’s precautions will make Paul safe, then I’ll never object. And I’ll teach him the right traditions, like never crossing his legs near adults, and when thunder comes, dumplings must be made. I’ll whisper in his ear that spirits are not too smart, and all the ways to fool them. I’ll tell him that earthquakes are caused when a dragon living underground pulls at roots and shakes them and that lunar eclipses are caused by a spirit dog eating the moon. I’ll tell him stories about A-ma Mata, the mother of humans and spirits, and how she divided the world. And, of course, I’ll teach him to Recite the Lineage, even if it’s only for my family and not his father’s.
* * *
Two months later, Jin, Deh-ja, and I eat dinner in front of the television so we can watch the opening ceremonies of the Olympics taking place in Beijing. I rub a little food from our meal on Paul’s lips to let him know we’re eating, but really we’re all distracted, mesmerized by the pageant our homeland is mounting for the world. The parade of twins from China’s fifty-five ethnic minorities looks to be made up mostly of Han majority people dressed to look like minorities. Nevertheless, Deh-ja cries at the spectacle. Jin says that the most beautiful of all China’s women are Akha, but what else can he say? And I contentedly hold my son.
The next few months in Arcadia are the happiest of my life. Jin’s an ambitious and busy father. I’ve helped my village, and my new shop in the Fangcun Tea Market is doing moderately well, giving me hope that the value of Pu’er will return. I’m thirty years old. I love my son more than my own life. I’ll do anything for him. So, personally, I’ve bounced back once again. But during this same time, world economies have been faltering. Now they take a deep dive. By the end of the year, property values in the United States and China have fallen into a chasm. All across the globe, people close their purses and fold up their wallets. Everyone is so scared that they stop buying toys, air conditioners, flat-screen televisions, and all manner of goods that would be shipped in cardboard. We’re unsure if Jin’s company will make it through this difficult period. But as Mrs. Chang reminds us on the phone one afternoon, “You and Jin are fortunate to have a son in the era of the One Child policy.” That is what gives Jin the strength to fight for his business, and me the determination to help him as he has helped me.
PART V
THE TEA GIRL OF HUMMINGBIRD LANE
2012–2016
Assignment: In AP English, we’ve been focusing on writing essays in preparation for the college applications you’ll be writing next year. Now I’d like you to take a different approach by exploring your imaginations with a short story. (No groans, please.) Writers are often told to write what they know. Take something that happened to you and reimagine it as a piece of fiction. You may write in the first or third person. You may also change the names, if you feel that will give you more freedom. (Submissions will be read only by me.) Please remember that for your college apps, everyone does a sport, aspires to be a doctor, or writes about their parents’ immigrant experience to America. You can’t get in with these clichéd topics on your applications. Be creative, expand your minds, and let’s see if you can come up with something that will be translatable to a college essay designed to make you stand out. Due October 13, 2012.
The Disappointment
by
Haley Davis
On a dark night in March, Adam and Alice Bowen sat their daughter, Amy, down for a talk. Was it going to be another lecture about not raiding the liquor cabinet? Or concerned inquiries about what was happening in therapy? Or would it be the same old “How was school today? How did you do on your AP Chemistry test? Did you finish your homework?” Were they going to tell her they were separating? (Which, honestly, wouldn’t have surprised Amy one bit.) Maybe her dad had been diagnosed with cancer or needed open-heart surgery? (This would have terrified Amy but wouldn’t have surprised her either, because her dad was already pretty old when she was adopted.) Instead, when Adam began, “This summer . . .” Amy’s hopes flew through the roof. Were they finally going to relent and let her go to Europe with her friends, by themselves? “We’re taking you to China. We want you to discover your roots.” That was about the last thing in the world Amy wanted or would have asked for. Really. Because who wanted to go on a family vacation at her age? But what can you do? Fight against it. That’s what.
“I’m not going on one of those stupid heritage tours,” she said.