An Ocean Apart Read online

Yesterday Mrs. Mah shooed me away when I went to see Yook Jieh. She said that I would get in the way. This did not make me happy. I have felt very sour and hopeless, Diary, and then I do not like to burden you with it. Writing misery down does not make it better, it just makes me think harder about it. So I have been avoiding writing. I asked Miss MacDonald about whether or not I was being a good diary writer, as my entries no longer come every day like they did at the beginning. She wanted to see you, which shocked me. “Oh, not to read, May! A diary is personal and private. Just to see what type of diary you have,” she said. I did not know that some diaries are made with the day’s date for each day, and now I see that Miss MacDonald was worried that this was what was bothering me — big patches of dates with nothing filled in beneath them. She laughed when she saw you, and said that this was a journal in which I filled in the date when I wanted to write, so it was up to me to write as little or as much as I like. I am much relieved! She also said that many people start diaries and give up after but one week! She was very serious when she told me that sometimes writing down sad things helps you understand them. I am not sure she is right.

  Wednesday, January 24

  Finally, something happy to write about. The Lees held a little party today to celebrate the fact that their baby, Charles, has survived one month. Many people visited, bringing gifts for the baby of clothes and money, or chicken essence to strengthen Mrs. Lee. I made Charles a toy out of my old blouse, the one Ivor ruined — just a little rabbit, one that a baby can hold easily. I also gave Mr. and Mrs. Lee a sketch that I had made of the children when they had all been listening to Mr. Chee tell them stories of the old railway days. I had helped Mrs. Lee boil and colour eggs to give away, and she had special cakes, coloured red, with a peanut filling. At the end of the party, she gave me many that were left. I will give them to Baba and the others, and there will even be ones to take for Bess and Miss MacDonald tomorrow.

  Thursday, January 25

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed loudly and I made Charles cry. I had forgotten that it is tradition to shave the baby’s head the day after his party. When I saw him this morning, Mrs. Lee was holding him so just the tip of his head showed, and it was just like those lucky red eggs. Poor baby, he must be cold now, and he had such beautiful, thick hair. He likes my rabbit — Lily says he cries when anyone tries to take it away from him.

  I wish I could say that Bess liked my cake gift as much. She was polite — her aunt is teaching her new manners — she didn’t spit it out, but I could see she wanted to. Later I saw the rest of the cake hidden in her desk when she opened it.

  I don’t think Miss MacDonald liked it either, but she pretended that she did. She tries so hard to like everything Chinese that sometimes it is a little funny. I confessed that I find almost no time to read at home, so now ten minutes we spend reading Anne of Green Gables each day. Our lessons have a pattern: ten minutes where we go over anything I did not understand at school; thirty minutes on the extra work Mr. Hughes has set; ten minutes reading; ten minutes of Chinese conversation. Miss MacDonald is sneaky. In those last ten minutes she tries to ask her nosey questions. I pretend her accent is bad and that I do not understand!

  Friday, January 26

  It has got cold again, and we have just a trace of snow. Disaster struck me! There, do I sound like Anne? I am laughing, but it is not really funny. My shoe has finally collapsed. Is that the right way to say it? The bottom part has been loose a little while now, and somehow, I don’t quite know how it happened, as we were walking home Lily stepped on it, and now it flaps like a leaf in the wind. I was going to try and sew it together, but I did not have time before I went to Miss MacDonald. She was horrified, and insisted that I warm my feet by the fire. She went into another room and when she came back she held those beautiful boots, the ones that caused me so much trouble. “Just try them on, May,” she said, “they may not even fit.” Oh, but Diary, they did! Miss MacDonald sighed. “I understand your father does not like you taking things from outside your family” — that is the excuse I had made — “but this is an emergency. Would you like me to talk to him?”

  That I did not want. So I said that I would speak to him. I put my old shoes back on, and as Baba and I walked home from the restaurant, the flap-flap of my sole could not be missed. I told him straight out, when he started to talk about buying some new cloth mary janes, that Miss MacDonald had offered me the leather boots of her niece again. Baba’s jaw started to stick out, but I did not let him get angry. I explained how I was now helping her with her Chinese, and that if this was not enough, perhaps we could invite her to eat with us at the restaurant. I was such a daring girl, but, Diary, I so wanted those boots! Finally Baba said that if I wanted this so much, then it would happen. “You ask for so little, Ah-Mei.”

  I have my boots, but now I am not sure that it is a good thing that on Chinese New Year Miss MacDonald will be my guest!

  Sunday, January 28

  Bess says that things, good or bad, come in threes. I now know it to be true. First there was Charles’s baby party. Then I got my boots, and it was just in time, because yesterday we had a lot of snow! Now we have heard from Ma. Baba just read me the letter and Grandmother is better, not as strong as she used to be, but better all the same. Ma received the extra money we sent, and the medicine seems to have worked. My Baba swirled me up in his arms and danced me round our little room.

  Monday, January 29

  Oh, it is lovely to have warm, dry feet. Bess admired my boots a lot. She still makes funny sayings about Miss MacDonald, but now she also seems a little curious. She asks me questions about her, how I spend my time with her. I wonder why?

  It is good to have a friend like Bess to share things with and she was happy for me about our letter. She does not say much about her own family, but she did say that Liam visits now. I can be glad for her for that, because I know he is her favourite and she his. Declan is sour about it — he has not forgotten the beating that Liam gave him. When Liam comes, Declan will not stay in the house. I am sorry for Declan, it is true, but I do not like him. He is a boy with a mean spirit, who likes to tease and hurt. I did not like it when he clung to Bess, because even when he was miserable I had to watch him, for he would do nasty things to poor Lily as we walked home — trip her, snatch her little school bag or even pinch. She is such a sweet little girl, I do not understand what pleasure it would give him to harm her.

  Declan does not stay with us much now, nor with the boys his own age. He is back with Ivor and his friends.

  Wednesday, January 31

  No time to write yesterday. It was a big, big day for we Chinese. Consul Chow visited from America. Many, many men went to hear him speak. Baba was not able to, but Tsung Sook did. The Ambassador spoke against the schools in Victoria, praising the Chinese parents who have kept their children from them because the schools want to teach Chinese students separate from all others. I am very lucky that this has not happened here. I am one lucky, lucky girl. Tsung Sook was all fiery with protest, saying that our Ambassador would protect us, would fight against injustice for us. So did the many men who ate at our restaurant. Wong Bak just smiled sadly and said maybe so.

  February 1923

  Thursday, February 1

  A month I have been free of him, but today Ivor started teasing me again. I think it is maybe Declan’s idea. It is like I have been invisible for this time, and now he has remembered that I am here.

  He noticed my boots, and made nasty comments about them. He even said I must have stolen them. I felt mad and ashamed at the same time. I do not steal. Bess yelled at him that a friend gave them to me, but he did not stop. He is such a clever boy, because he can turn anything hurtful. He called me a charity case, and said Bess was one too, that everyone knew that it was only her aunt’s kindness that had kept them from the poorhouse. Oh, she was mad then and flew at him with her nails. I pulled her back because I saw a teacher looking at us, and I did not want her to be in trouble.


  Friday, February 2

  Miss MacDonald is very pleased with my work and that makes me happy. She says that in the last month I have made great progress, and that if I continue like this I could easily pass the entrance exam for high school. This made me happy, but sad too. She asked me today if I knew of other girls who might like to study with us. Bess, I said without thinking. Bess struggles with her schoolwork, even though I help her when I can. Miss MacDonald got very excited and wanted to know all about Bess, who she was, and why she had not seen her. “But you have,” I told her. “She was the girl with me the very first day I met you, when we ran into you. She has blond hair and is taller than me!”

  Poor Miss MacDonald. I had made her hopeful, and then thrown those hopes down. She seemed unable to say the words without tripping over them, but she explained it was Chinese girls she wanted to help.

  Am I a disappointment to her because I do not mix with the merchants’ daughters? My only Chinese friends are Yook Jieh and Lily — one will soon be gone, and the other is very little.

  Sunday, February 4

  In my last entry, I said Yook Jieh will soon be gone, but my heart did not really believe those words. I am starting to now.

  I spent the afternoon with her yesterday; Mrs. Mah did not send me away this time.

  Yook Jieh’s wedding will take place next weekend. It will not be fancy, but she is going to ask that I may be there with her. Cheung Wan-sheung will pay for a banquet to be held at the Mahs’ house. The room he shares with his brother in Canton Alley is tiny, so it cannot be there. His brother and maybe one friend will attend, the Mahs, and me. The next day, Yook Jieh tells me, they will leave for Saskatchewan. Cheung Wan-sheung has opened a restaurant in a town there — I cannot remember the name. He and Yook Jieh will run it and soon his brother will join them. They will work to buy the brother a bride from China. I wanted to see Yook Jieh’s face crinkle into a smile when she told me this, but it did not.

  Baba and I stayed in our room this afternoon. We talked a little of Yook Jieh. When I said that I was frightened she would be lonely and sad, he sighed. “Ah-Mei,” he said, “she may be, but she will have a husband, a business and then babies — let us hope she has many babies — to keep her busy. It will be better than any life she could have had if she had not come to Canada. I think you forget how hard life can be for people like us in China. Coming here, we work hard to make better lives, either for ourselves or for those back home.”

  That made me think deeply. I do forget, Diary. Life with Ma sometimes seems like a dream. My thoughts stay in the now and the what may yet come. Baba dreams of us here together, but does he also share the dream of so many here who work to go back to China and live the life of a rich man in their days of old age?

  Wednesday, February 7

  Apart from Ivor’s meanness, which I do not want to write about, life for me has been quiet. Nothing has happened, truly, Diary.

  I spend my time with the Lees in the morning, and I am happy there with the children. Mrs. Lee is very kind to me, and even Mr. Lee is no longer grumpy. Yesterday he even called me Ah-Mei! The baby is growing, and he now has stubbly hair that sticks out like the feathers of a baby bird. When I hold him I picture Yook Jieh holding a baby just like him. How will she manage? Mrs. Lee laughs at my imaginings and says that Yook Jieh will be fine. I asked her what I might give Yook Jieh as a bride gift. I have no money to buy anything. I give all my wages to Baba. She said something to remember me by. I shall puzzle as to what that might be.

  Friday, February 9

  The idea for Yook Jieh’s present came to me yesterday as I was with Miss MacDonald. In the parlour in which we work there is a mirror on the wall. At the end of the lesson I asked Miss MacDonald if tomorrow I might use it to draw a picture of myself as I have no mirror at home. The idea amused her, and she asked if it was for drawing at school. I did not lie, but I did not tell the whole truth, either, because I did not think that she would understand about Yook Jieh.

  So today, for most of our time, I drew. Miss MacDonald talked to me while I did, practising her Chinese. I did not know that she had trained as a nurse, and that is what she would like to do in China, be a medical missionary. That is a fine thing to do, helping others, maybe even people like my grandmother.

  It is much harder to draw a picture of your own face than I thought it would be. I could not see what I was doing wrong, until Miss MacDonald showed me that I had made my face too round. She says it is more oval. I used pencil, and scribbled and scribbled to get my hair black. Watching me do this, Miss MacDonald asked why I did not use paint or crayons, and did I want to borrow some. It would have been easy to say yes, but I did not, although I did ask if I might use a red crayon she had to colour a fine, thick border around my picture. I was pleased because now I had framed my own face with luck. I hope it may bring luck to Yook Jieh.

  When Miss MacDonald told me that I might have the makings of a good artist, my face was almost the colour of the border on my paper.

  Sunday, February 11

  Yook Jieh is gone.

  It is hard to write those words. I will miss her so very much. We had to snatch time to spend together, but what we did have was precious to me, and I hope to her. She was the one I talked to most about missing my Ma. She knew what it felt like; perhaps it was even harder for her.

  The wedding was yesterday and Mrs. Mah let me be there, which made me happy. In fact, when Cheung Wan-sheung came to collect Yook Jieh, Mrs. Mah made me stand at the doorway with her and pretend not to let him in. She giggled like a girl and said that we could not fulfill all the traditions, but that one we could. He looked very old, Diary, but his face is not an unkind one. He laughed and went along with Mrs. Mah’s foolishness.

  Mr. Chee watched from the road. Later he told me he remembered Cheung Wan-sheung as a little boy, carrying water to the men as they worked on the railway. It is hard for me to picture that little boy. All I see is a man with a tired, weather-beaten face.

  Yook Jieh was happy, but she cried a little too. There were smiles through her tears, and her cheeks looked like apples again.

  She liked my drawing.

  Monday, February 12

  I have felt sad all day. Bess said I was a misery guts, and spent recess with Ada. I did not mind, because I did not feel much like talking to anyone. I keep seeing a train in my head, carrying Yook Jieh through the high mountains to her new home.

  I was lucky. Ivor did not bother me today. He and that group of boys still spend all their time huddled together.

  Tuesday, February 13

  My heart came into my mouth today, because in all my thinking about Yook Jieh, I forgot some very important things.

  At the end of our lesson today, Miss MacDonald asked me about celebrating Chinese New Year, whether we would mark it (I did not quite know what she meant here) on the evening before, or on Friday. Diary, I had not yet asked her if she would come and eat with us!

  Why, I wonder, is that? Is it true forgetfulness, or is it because I do not really want her to come? It is difficult to explain. I do like her, but sometimes I find her very strange, and wonder what Baba and my uncles will think of her. I know that Mr. Chee will not like her, but he does not like anyone who is not Chinese. Will you think me sneaky, if I admit I did not think Baba would agree to her coming, that I just suggested it because I wanted those boots so badly?

  I explained that we would eat very late, after my Baba was home, after we had closed the restaurant on Thursday. Then I asked if she would like to join us.

  For a little while she said nothing. I wondered whether what I had asked might be an insult because she would be eating with strange men. But no, she smiled, a big smile that made her look almost pretty, that is if someone who has a nose like a bird’s beak can ever be that! “Oh, May, I would love that. I would love to meet your father and tell him about what a wonderful scholar you are.”

  I am most unsure that this is good, Diary.

  The other important t
hing I forgot is that tomorrow is a special day at school. It is Valentine’s Day. People exchange cards, sometimes in secret, sometimes not. For boys, it is if they want a sweetheart, but girls give them just to friends. I made one for Bess, because she is my friend, my only one now. It was very fine, if I say so myself. I coloured a red heart. Miss MacDonald let me use her crayon. Then I cut paper so it had a pattern of holes, like the lace on Miss MacDonald’s blouse, and stuck this around the heart with flour-and-water paste. I hope Bess likes it.

  Wednesday, February 14

  Bess is always a surprise to me. Just when we are getting back to being friends again, she gets cross over funny things. She is angry with me because of my invite to Miss MacDonald. I do not understand this. We are school friends. We do not go to each other’s homes — well, I did once, but that does not count, I think, because I was not invited, just worried.

  Bess walks with me to the edge of Chinatown, but she has never come in. People tell stories, not true stories, of what happens to white girls who come here. I said this to her, but she flounced her hair and said she did not believe such stories. I told her that our restaurant is small and that it will be very late, but she is still not happy with me. I do not know what I can do about this. It has had me thinking, long and hard. It is not like Bess, but I think perhaps she is jealous of the time I spend with Miss MacDonald. Of all the other girls at school, only Ada ever talks much to Bess, and that is only if no one else is there.

  My valentine card was the only one she got. Perhaps that is also what made her sad and a crosspatch.

  Sunday, February 18

  Oh, Diary, there is so much to write that I have saved it until I have a long time. Baba is sitting on his bed, carving a piece of wood he found, and I sit on mine, writing.

  Thursday was busy, busy. I had explained to Miss MacDonald that I could not come to our lesson that day because the New Year must have a clean beginning, so our little room I scrubbed, and then I helped Mr. Chee with his, and there was still more, for Wong Bak and I made sure the restaurant shone before customers came. A lot came, which was good.