It was raining the day of the Chinatown trip, a heavy rain that splashed the pavement with neon reflections and made the street shimmer. “I’ll meet you at Fan Tan Alley at 2:00,” Val said as the school bus arrived. “Here’s a note for your teacher.” She gave Jasmine’s braid a tug. “You look terrific,” she said. “Have fun.”
The class spilled off the bus and gathered in excited clusters in front of the restaurant. A spattering of red sweaters brightened the sidewalk, along with shirts emblazoned with dragons and Chinese writing.
“Hi Jasmine,” said Krista, giving her a friendly wave. “Where did you get the clothes?”
“From my aunt. It’s what the Chinese wore when they came to build the railroad.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Becky. “You look great. But don’t you feel like, weird?”
“No,” Jasmine replied. The question surprised her. “I feel right at home.”
“Figures,” Becky said with a grin. “You always like to be different. But you can sit with us anyway, OK?”
“Sure.” Becky’s words stung. Was there an edge to them she hadn’t noticed before? Was she hearing things differently, or was she just too sensitive?
They’re still my friends, she thought as they trooped up the stairs. Even though I’ve gone quiet on them. But something was missing—the easy warmth, the feeling of being accepted. She paused by the aquarium at the top of the stairs. Was she really so different? And if she was, so what? It didn’t matter.
“Fish for abundance and prosperity,” Becky said. “Right, Jasmine?”
“I think so.” There were so many symbols: a chicken for happiness, a cricket for good luck, a tortoise for long life. It was because of the language, Mrs. Butler had explained. If a word had the same sound as another word, then it took on the same meaning. Like the word for pear. Don’t share a pear with a friend, because pear has the same sound as the word for departure. Had she shared a pear with her dad? No, neither of them liked pears anyway.
And red was supposed to bring good luck. She had tied a red ribbon around her braid, hoping her dad’s flight would be cancelled. Or maybe he’d have an accident—just a little one, just enough for him to be sent home.
No sooner had they sat at the round table than the waiters began bringing food. Deep fried egg rolls, steamed dumplings stuffed with pork. Chop suey with water chestnuts, bamboo shoots and beef. Bite-sized portions of pork drenched in sweet and sour sauce. A plate of chow mein, heaped with diced chicken, fried noodles and vegetables.
“This is hard to eat,” Jasmine said, as the beansprouts slipped from her chopsticks.
“You can come here with your aunt,” Krista said. “You’ll get lots of practice.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Jasmine took out the note and handed it to her teacher. “My aunt’s meeting me at Fan Tan Alley at 2:00, wherever that is.”
“It’s one of the stops on your scavenger hunt,” said Mrs. Butler. “You’ll find it easily enough.”
At the end of the meal, the fortune cookies arrived. Becky read, “You will travel a great distance.You should’ve got this one, Jasmine, since your aunt’s driving you to Sooke every day. What does yours say?”
“Someone from your past will soon reenter your life.” Good, she thought. Maybe Dad won’t stay in China after all.
Mrs. Butler was handing out the scavenger hunt lists. “Mark off the items as you find them. I’ll meet everyone in front of the restaurant at 2:00.”
By the time they left the restaurant the rain had turned into a thick fog, enveloping them in the exotic atmosphere of Chinatown. On both sides of the street, shops displayed huge earthernware jars and vases painted with phoenixes or dragons. Outdoor stands offered a variety of fruits and vegetables, from lemon grass and winter melon to long stalks of sugar cane. Red posts topped with pagoda-shaped lanterns lined the street; even the telephone booth had a pagoda-like roof. At the end of the block was the gate Jasmine had seen the night before, a brilliantly painted structure flanked by two stone lions. She checked it on her list: the Gate of Harmonious Interest.
Every doorway opened into a different world. “Look at this,” Krista said. She held up a bulky packet of paper money, used for burning on ancestors’ graves. “When it burns, the smoke rises to heaven. Then the ancestors have money to spend.”
They checked off pickled jellyfish, bins of white rice and black rice, tins of shark fin soup, fluttery black mushrooms, fish dried and flattened as thin as parchment.
In the herb shop they gasped at the overpowering smell of dried fish and lizards, animal parts and strange plants used to treat ailments and allergies. “How do people eat them?” Jasmine wondered.
“Put them in stew or soup, or boil them in water and drink like tea,” the herbalist said. He held up a dried seahorse. “You want to try?”
“No thanks,” they said.
In another store they found ink sticks and chopsticks, a poster showing the Great Wall covered with snow, and jade figures in all shades of green. But no white jade, Jasmine noticed. And no jade tigers.
“Here it is,” Becky said suddenly, pointing to a signpost. “Fan Tan Alley. Isn’t this where you’re supposed to meet your aunt?”
“Yes, but I’ve still got 15 minutes. I haven’t even bought anything yet.”
“Come on, you guys,” Krista said excitedly. “This store is really neat.”
The entrance was jammed with paper chains and streamers cascading from the ceiling like papery pagodas, brightly coloured in red, turquoise, green and gold. Jars and boxes crowded the shelves, stuffed with little toys and gadgets, from panda pencil sharpeners and tin whistles to Chinese dolls.
Krista led the way down a narrow passageway crowded with blue and white porcelain, Chinese junks, statues of Buddha. It opened into another room, a jumble of cotton slippers, wicker baskets, straw hats and slippery silk robes. “Hurry up,” she called. “There’s another room in this never-ending store.”
They followed her along a dark and twisting passage into a larger room. “It’s a kind of museum,” she said. “See that guy in there? Doesn’t he look real?” A mannequin dressed in a long black gown stood behind a wicket, counting out money. “This used to be a gambling den.” She bounded over to a display case. “Where’s the list? Check off the tiles for playing Mah Jong, then we’ll go down the alley.”
“Hey, look.” Jasmine pointed to a pile of buttons and a brass cup. “It’s a fan-tan game,” she said, reading the label. “That’s how the alley got its name. See, the banker divides a pile of buttons into fours, and the players bet on how many will be left over.”
“Too much like math,” said Becky. “Now let’s go. There’s only one store left.”
“Wait a minute,” Jasmine said. A row of dragons leaping along a dusty shelf caught her eye. “I want to look at these.”
“Catch up to us then.” Krista and Becky headed back to the main entrance, while Jasmine turned her attention to the dragons. As she was reaching for the blue one, her eye flicked over to the mannequin. It seemed as though he were watching her.
“You like the dragon?” An old man appeared through a curtained doorway. “Brings good luck, the dragon. Lung, we call him. Come, I’ll take your money. For you, that dragon is $10.00. Very special.”
Jasmine thought for a moment. $10.00 was more than she wanted to spend, but....“OK,” she said impulsively, and handed him a ten dollar bill. “No tax?”
The man laughed. “Not today!” he said. He wrapped the dragon carefully and placed it in a bag. “You want more luck?” He picked up a red envelope lying on the counter and placed a coin inside. “Here,” he said. “Lai see, just for you.”
“Thanks” Jasmine smiled. “This is lucky money, right?” She traced her fingers around the Chinese characters printed in gold on the envelope. “Gung hey fat choy!” she said.
“Yes, yes! Happy New Year!” He studied her closely, smiling and nodding his head as if pleased with what he saw. “Happy New Year, Dragon Girl!”
How does he know I’m a Dragon Girl? And why does he keep staring at me? Must be the clothes, she decided. That’s all.
As she was turning to go she noticed another small room that opened onto an alley. “Isn’t that Fan Tan Alley?” She pointed to the No Exit sign hanging from the glass door. “Can I go out that way?”
“Yes, Fan Tan Alley!” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. “For you, door open. Exit, for good luck dragon.” He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. “Goodbye, Dragon Girl.”
Then he bowed to Jasmine as she walked through the door and into the alley.