Friday, December 1
Yesterday Wong Bak told Baba about Miss MacDonald almost before Baba was through the restaurant door. Baba looked stern and wanted to know if this lady was bothering me. I told him all she said. The only time he smiled was when I told him my teacher’s words about me. He told me that I took after him, that he too would have been a scholar if he had been given the chance. My hopes rose just a little. I know it is selfish of me, Diary, and I said I would leave school as soon as I could, but I do love to study. Maybe if I studied more, I could have a really good job and earn lots and lots of money!
Baba did not give me an answer then. He said he wanted to think about it some more. All that evening I caught him looking at me when he thought I would not notice. He, Wong Bak and Tsung Sook kept having whispered conversations. I tried to hear but only caught Tsung Sook saying that he wished he had had such an opportunity when he was my age.
This morning before he left for work, Baba told me that I can do extra study with Miss MacDonald, but only on condition that I get to the restaurant by five and work extra hard. I am lucky to have such a modern-thinking Baba! Now I just hope that this will suit Miss MacDonald.
I had great luck at school today too. Bess was more cheerful and has invited me on an adventure. Tomorrow, in the morning, there is a big event at Woodward’s. Bess wouldn’t say what it was, just laughed and said I would enjoy it. I know I should have asked Baba’s permission, but I have asked for so many things lately. It is just a little way away, and I will be with Bess. I will be back before anyone knows I am gone!
Saturday, December 2
I wish I had never gone! This has been a terrible day. I don’t even want to write about it, Diary, but if I do, perhaps it will help me make sense of what happened.
Bess was waiting for me on the corner of Hastings and Carrall Streets, Declan with her. He did not look happy and neither did she. Mr. Chee had walked with me, grumbling all the time about how I always run after foreign devils. When he saw Bess and Declan he spat noisily on the street before turning away.
Woodward’s is a huge building, and it was like a boat surrounded by a sea of people, all looking up at its roof. I wanted to go straight inside, but Bess pulled me back and told me to wait, as we were going to see Father Christmas arrive on the roof. She said something then that I did not understand, but which now makes a very horrible sense. She said she didn’t want to go into the store until it was very, very full of people.
I had thought Father Christmas was just a story — but he is not! I saw him on the roof and he went down a chimney. Bess sniffed and said that this was something for stupid little kids. I wanted to watch and listen, but I felt shy because I was a big girl, and the only Chinese face there. I kept expecting someone to send me away.
It was then the day was spoiled. Bess pulled me into the store and dragged me along with her until we were behind a crowd of people. There was a pile of little dolls on a table. Bess called them kewpies. She told me to stand in front of her, so that people could not see her. Then, moving quickly like a snake striking, she pushed some of the dolls up inside the sleeves of her coat.
Words choked in my throat. I tried to say her name, tell her that she must not do this, but nothing came out.
“Don’t stand there, gawping, Mei-ling!” Bess hissed at me. “Let’s get out of here.”
I wanted that very much, in fact I wanted to run as fast as my feet could carry me. What if someone had seen Bess? What if they thought I, too, had taken things? Would I be sent back to China? What shame this would be for my family. All our dreams would be broken like pot shards.
Bess did not let me run. She put her arm though mine, like she does in the yard at recess. “Walk slowly, don’t act guilty,” she warned me. We are guilty, I wanted to tell her, but I had no words for her.
When we reached the sidewalk I pulled free and ran. I ran as fast as I could. I would not listen to Bess shouting after me. I did not feel my feet splash through the puddles. I ran and ran until I was safe here in our room with you, Diary. I
Someone is knocking on our door. It must be Mr. Chee — time to go to the restaurant. How can I face Baba and the others? They will surely know.
Sunday, December 3
I do not know how I got through last night. Mr. Chee told on me. He told Baba, Wong Bak, Tsung Sook and anyone who would listen how I wanted to be with the foreign devils. Baba did not shout at me, but his face was sad that I had gone without telling him. He told me again that the one thing that worries him most of all is how badly people might treat me because I am a Chinese girl. Now it was like I was seeking out an opportunity to be hurt by going to big Canadian places. I wailed inside my heart to have given him such sadness — but that is not all. If he knew what my friend had done, and how I had been there, there would have been great anger too. My voice could only say little, that I was very sorry and would not go out with Bess again. That was easy, Diary, I do not want to go on her “adventures” ever, ever again.
I am very, very tired. I could not sleep last night. I kept thinking of what Bess did. Why would she take those things? It was not a quick thing that came to her when she saw the dolls; she had planned it. Did she think that I would help her or want to take things too? Was Declan somewhere else in the store, also taking things? What will I say to her tomorrow?
Another thing saddens me, Diary. I have been a selfish girl in so many ways lately. Oh, I have thought myself good because I have earned money, but I have thought only of things happening to me. I have not been thinking about Ma. The money for medicine will not reach her quickly. Will she be able to borrow money to pay for it? How is Grandmother? It is hard because they are so far away; it is easy just to think of here. Even here, I have not been a good friend. I have ignored Mr. Chee and Yook Jieh.
Monday, December 4
My feet dragged to school today. Lily’s chatter did not make the worms inside my stomach stop twisting. In fact, it made them worse. She talked about nothing but the Father Christmas at Woodward’s — her father had taken her and Arthur there to see him. She has asked him for a doll that says “Mama.” My heart jumped even more when she said she had seen me there, until I realized that she had only seen me outside.
Bess was waiting for me as usual. Before I could speak, she linked her arm through mine, asking why I had run off on Saturday. My mouth fell open and I tried to say about what had happened, but she started talking over me, her voice loud and very cheerful. “Didn’t we have fun?” she asked me. Then she started laughing about how fat Father Christmas was, and how shocked I had looked when he squeezed down the chimney. I felt like I was a crazy girl who perhaps imagined things. How could Bess act like nothing had happened? Every time I tried to talk about Saturday, she would talk over me in that strange voice, the one that tried to sound jolly, speaking about things that did not matter, like the colour of Ada Howe’s dress or the way Mr. Hughes wags his head when he is being serious. Bess’s eyes were not jolly, though. The look in them stopped me from being mad with her. I stopped trying to talk about Saturday. I am very confused and wish I could forget it. This is what Bess wants, I think. Why did she steal the dolls? Why is she being like this?
To add to my unhappiness, it has become very, very cold. My feet hurt all the time — they ache and burn. Tomorrow I will try putting paper inside my shoes to keep the cold out and make the soles thicker.
The only good thing today was that I saw Miss MacDonald and told her that my Baba had said I may come to her for help with schoolwork, but only for the little while between the end of school and when I go to the restaurant. She clapped her hands, saying, “Oh, May, that is capital!” I did not understand what it was she said, but her smile told me that she was happy. We have agreed that we will start next week, and I am to tell Mr. Hughes so that he may set extra work for us. I should feel very happy and lucky, but it is made sour by my worry over Bess.
Tuesday, December 5
I feel like I have turned into an ice girl. I cannot get warm. I wore both my blouses today, one on top of the other. It only helped a little. As I write in you, Diary, I am wrapped in a blanket, with only my hands and face showing. The paper in my shoes is useless. All it did was crinkle and make a noise. It also caused me much trouble.
Ivor saw the paper poking out and laughed. “Is that what you wear in Chinky China?” he asked. “Or don’t you wear shoes at all?”
Bess told him to shut up. He turned on her then, laughing about how she had no stockings. He was very mean and pushed her over. One of her shoes came off and he grabbed it and ran around the schoolyard, waving it and yelling at people that Bess Murphy’s shoes had more hole than sole. Nearly everyone laughed. I was surprised because Bess just sat on the ground, her head bent so that her hair hid her face. I had expected her to get up and punch him — that is what she normally would do.
Ivor danced in front of Bess, dangling her shoe, and singing “Bog Irish! Bog Irish!” I do not know what this means, but I knew it was meant to hurt like a stone thrown at Bess. Others circled round and started the hurtful yelling too.
Still Bess did not do anything. I could not see her face, but I heard her sob. It made my heart ache so much that I surprised myself. I ran at Ivor, snatched the shoe from him and yelled at him to leave her alone. For just a tiny bit, he was so shocked that he did nothing. Then he started to move toward me, his fist raised.
I was very lucky because Mr. Hughes came then. He wanted to know what was happening. The crowd disappeared very quickly. Ivor started to say it was a game we were playing.
“It was not!” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Ivor was teasing Bess. He made her cry.” I put my hand over my mouth to silence myself, but it was too late. Mr. Hughes grabbed Ivor by the arm, dragging him toward the school. He was talking all the time, shouting really, about how he was tired of Ivor’s mean tricks. I knelt down to give Bess her shoe. As I did I saw Ivor turn his head and mouth something at me. I think he said, “Just you wait, May Chin!”
I am glad I helped Bess. She has always stood up for me, but now I am a little scared.
Wednesday, December 6
Nothing happened today. That is a silly thing to write, but I mean that Ivor did nothing to me, except give me mean looks. Mr. Hughes thrashed him yesterday. He also scolded the whole class and told us he is made sick by the way we taunt each other about where we come from. It is mainly the boys. They make gangs and fight: Japanese against Portuguese, Italians against Japanese, Portuguese against Italians, English against … I could go on and on, Diary. There are not enough Chinese boys to form a gang, so we just get picked on by everyone. At first I could not see why Mr. Hughes was saying this to us, but then I remembered what Ivor had called Bess. Ivor is always quick to make fun of people’s families and customs. He is very proud of the fact that he is British. Mr. Hughes said we should celebrate that we are all Canadians now. Looking straight at Ivor and at John Kobayashi, he said that he would punish anyone he caught fighting like this or calling names. He can be very fierce. I hope that Ivor will remember this fierceness.
I liked what Mr. Hughes said about being Canadian, but now it is making me sad. Twenty-four years my Baba has lived and worked in Canada, longer than he was in China, but I don’t think people see him as Canadian, do they? If they did, he could have his family here so easily and we would all be happy.
Ah, I must not write gloomy thoughts. If I look out of my window, it is beautiful. We had snow! Just a little, but it makes everything look clean.
Yook Jieh is standing in the doorway of the Mahs’ house. She has seen me and is waving.
Thursday, December 7
I am still an ice girl. Everyone is shaking their heads about how cold the weather has been. I am glad at school for the stove, and glad that Bess and I sit near it. I worry about Baba and his journey to work. His coat is very thin and he has no gloves. At least the Baldwins’ house is warm and he tells me that the kitchen is hot, once he starts the day’s cooking. Yesterday Mrs. Baldwin asked him to shovel the snow from the pathways, and even though he did not complain to me, I think he was very cold. Perhaps I can make him some mittens as a gift for the Winter Solstice Festival.
Ivor was not in school today. Declan says he has a cold. A mean part of me was glad. I have given up trying to talk to Bess about what she did. She will not listen, and when I tried very hard to make her, she asked Mr. Hughes if she could change seats and sit with Ada. My heart got all empty, but I was lucky that Mr. Hughes said she could not change her seat for a whim.
Oh, Diary, I am writing the little details, when I have big news.
Yook Jieh was still waiting for me when Mr. Chee and I set off for the restaurant yesterday. He grumbled when I stopped to talk to her, but the Mahs’ cook invited him to sit in the kitchen and have some tea. I think Cook fed him a little too, because Mr. Chee seemed very happy when we set out again.
The big news is not my news, but Yook Jieh’s. Some of the bachelors have started coming around to see Mr. Mah, wanting to marry her, and he has said that he will find a suitable match! She giggled and her face got very pink when she told me how she hid behind the kitchen door and listened to Mr. Mah greet some of them. Four different men have visited. They bring him gifts. One even brought a bottle of whisky.
Yook Jieh to be married, Ai-yah! She seemed so happy that I felt mean when some words flew out of my mouth: “Will you choose or will Mr. Mah?” Even as I spoke I knew the answer, and it made me sad. Yook Jieh is Mr. Mah’s muui-jaai and he will take whatever is offered as a bride price; that is the way it works.
She just laughed, telling me that Mrs. Mah has promised that they will choose a young, handsome husband for her. I did not say anything more. Young, handsome men do not have money — our friend Tsung Sook is just such a one.
Friday, December 8
I was going to write more about Yook Jieh, but we have much snow. It fills my head and not just the streets.
It was difficult to walk. Poor Lily struggled with it. Her feet kept slipping and she had to lift them high. When she started to cry I could not bear it, so I gave her a piggyback the last bit of our journey home. For such a little girl, she was heavy, but I managed. My teeth were clattering together, so I could hardly speak when I went into the Lees’ store. Mrs. Lee was there and she cried out when she saw us. She made me come upstairs and have some hot tea while she changed Lily’s wet clothes. Even the tea could not warm me, but it was nice to have some. It was the first time that Mrs. Lee has ever offered me food or drink. The Lees have a stove and the room was warm. I would have liked to stay there, but I also wanted to go home and change my stockings. My feet and legs were turned a funny blue colour, and they felt like hot needles were pricking them.
It has been a day of gifts for me, Diary. Mrs. Lee gave me twenty cents extra for taking such good care of Lily! They must be very rich to throw money so generously. I do not know whether this is a good thing to do, but I am not going to give that money to Baba. I shall buy wool and make him mittens. Is that very wrong of me? It is money we were not expecting. I knit well — Miss Clarke said so in Handicrafts.
The money was not Mrs. Lee’s only gift to me. She brought a min-naap back with her from the bedroom and placed it around my shoulders. It was lovely. The padding inside the silk made it warm, and soon my teeth stopped banging. I went to hand it back to her when it was time to leave, but she waved it away and said that it was mine to keep. “It is old, Mei-ling, and does not fit me any more,” she said. “See, how the silk is fraying on the jacket’s cuffs?” I did not care. It was beautiful. I have never had so fine a garment before. It is like wearing a beautiful blue cloud. I am wearing it now as I write, and the ice girl has thawed.
I nearly forgot, I had one more gift — Ivor was still away!
Saturday, December 9
It is quite late. The last customers are just leaving the restaurant and Baba and I will walk home soon. I worried about him yesterday, thinking Mrs. Baldwin would make him clear all that snow, but it was the gardener’s day to come and he did it. Mrs. Baldwin has been kind to Baba too. She has given him some of Mr. Baldwin’s old gloves. Baba sighed when he showed me them and shook his head. “What have we come to, Ah-Mei,” he asked, “that we have to accept the kindness of others just to keep warm.” I knew he was thinking about my min-naap. I feel very bad. I do not need the money I kept to buy wool for mittens now, and I should have given it straight to Baba, but how can I do that now without him thinking that I am a deceitful girl who hides things from him? Perhaps, next week, it can be a bonus.
It has not been a pleasant day, and I have had no time to write until now.
There was still more snow, not as much as yesterday, but maybe another two inches. Mr. Chee did not want to go this morning on our usual route. He does not look well. I took our washing to the laundry. It was no harder than usual, because I always carry it, but I forget how Mr. Chee acts as my guardian. Despite the snow, there were a lot of men on the streets, and they yelled to me. I do not look at them, but keep my eyes on the ground. “Talk to us, Big Loser’s Daughter!” they shout or, “Don’t be proud. Stop and pass the time of day and we will buy you dim-sum.” That would be shameful, so I made my feet hurry. One man got up from the box where he was sitting and walked alongside me, talking all the time. “Pretty girl,” he said, “do not ignore us. We mean you no harm. Let me carry your bag for you?” From the corner of my eye I saw his hand reach out and then I ran. I did not stop until I ran into someone, someone solid and tall who called out my name. It was Tsung Sook. He walked with me and then walked me home. The men turned their attention to him, making mean comments about how he was lucky to be such close friends with my father. He did not ignore them and taunted them back, calling them wastrels who sit and gamble their money away. One of them spat at our feet as we walked by.
My day was made sour because of this. I have been thinking a lot about Yook Jieh, wondering if more suitors visited the Mahs today. With so few women here, the Mahs will get a good bride price for her. I hope they choose well for her — not an old, old man, because she is only fifteen. Fifteen is a good age to marry; Ma was fifteen when she was chosen for Baba’s bride. Some girls are younger when they marry, it is true, but I am only just twelve. Do those rude men not know that? They seem to know everything else. Why would they want me to talk to them?
Yesterday — my apologies, Diary — I did not write in you. I meant to, but Baba and Wong Bak and Tsung Sook asked me to play mah joong with them when the restaurant closed. Mr. Chee is normally the fourth player, but has a cold so he stayed in his room. I am not a very good player, but I am lucky!
In the afternoon I spent some time with Yook Jieh and yes, more men did come to visit Mr. Mah, because word has got out that he is looking for a match. She is happy. She says that her fortune will be made here in Gold Mountain. I hope it will be true.
It has been colder than ever. When will it end? Mr. Hughes was telling us that this is unusual weather. I do not care, I just want it to go away. Ivor was back. Sickness has not made him a nicer person, but he is such a crafty boy. He pokes and whispers mean things only when he knows that he will not be caught. All day he kept whispering, “Watch out, May Chin, I haven’t forgotten that you got me into trouble. I’m going to make your life miserable!” I made sure that I stayed with Bess.
At the end of the day Mr. Hughes gave me a package of books to take to Miss MacDonald for us to work on. He is a very kind man. When I said this to Bess, she snorted and said, “Oh, May, can’t you see he’s sweet on that do-gooder and wants to impress her.” It does not matter to me. I am just thankful.
It was wonderful. Mr. Hughes had put a note inside the package that arithmetic is my weakest subject, so that is what we concentrated upon. Miss MacDonald made it seem easy and, finally, fractions made sense to me. It is hard because the other students learned much before I even came to Canada. She has set me some sums for tomorrow, so this will be a short entry. We were in the parlour. I will definitely have a parlour when I am a grown-up woman!
Tuesday, December 12
One month I have been writing in you, Diary, and I hope that I have done it right. It is hard for so many reasons, and it is getting harder, but I like doing it because I can talk about everything in your pages, and that is something I cannot do so easily with people. What happens at school, I cannot talk about with people here, in Chinatown — they would not understand, or Ivor Jones’s meanness to me would worry them, or make them think that school is a bad thing. But it is not. Learning new things, that is the best thing of all. That makes my mind soar like a bird. I can write that, but if I said it to Wong Bak or Yook Jieh, they would look at me like I was a truly crazy girl.
Baba understands, I think, but I see him so little and it is rare we talk of serious things. His mind is eaten up with worry about how we will get Ma and Little Brother here. I worry too, but I do not say because it will make Baba’s worry all the bigger. I don’t write about them much here, because I think of them so often that if I wrote it here, that’s all there would be. It is not something easy to talk about either, and not to people like Bess and Miss MacDonald. Bess is not interested in what she calls “Chinese malarkey.” Miss MacDonald is interested, always she has questions, but they make me uncomfortable and my answers are short. Some sorrows are private.
Wednesday, December 13
My entries are getting shorter. Yesterday Baba made me stop because he wanted to sleep, and said that I should too. But often that is the only time I have to write in you, Diary, when we return from the restaurant late at night! I used to write in the morning, but now I do the extra work Miss MacDonald sets me before I go to the Lees’ to look after the children. (The baby has two new teeth — he is much sweeter in his temper now!) After school I rush back and go straight to see Miss MacDonald. My school homework I do in the restaurant between my chores. I am always terrified that it will be spoiled if something is spilled upon it. I try not to risk your beauty there!
Baba is watching me as I write. He pretends he is reading The Chinese Times, which someone left in the restaurant tonight, but I see him sneaking little peeks at me. I hope I can finish before he wants us to sleep. He coughs too. I wonder if it is his way of getting my attention so that perhaps I will stop.
My last entries have sounded complaining, but I do not mean them to. I think other people may have far worse things to face than I do, like Bess. She has become quiet again and will not tell me what is wrong. “Nothing!” she says, but she won’t look at me. Declan’s face was all bruised today. He came and stood with us rather than play with the bigger boys. I wonder if Ivor beat him.
Friday, December 15
I missed another day. I knew it would happen. Sometimes I am very selfish and think only of myself. Poor Baba was not false coughing. He has caught Mr. Chee’s cold and it has been very bad. Last night he was so pale and tired-looking that I knew he must sleep as soon as we got home. I worry about him working so hard, and wish that he could stay home and rest, but he said that there are many who would be happy to take his place with the Baldwins if he should fail to go. I am keeping my fingers crossed (is that not a strange expression, because if I did, I could not write!) that he will recover soon. Mr. Chee is much better. He is a little weak, and his cough continues, but he was waiting for me outside the church today after my time with Miss MacDonald, and walked to the restaurant with me. It was nice to have a peaceful walk again, with no catcalls.
A whole week of lessons with Miss MacDonald! I have learned so much. Arithmetic has been our main study, but we have also worked on English and dictations. She is very kind, even if she is very nosey. She always has tea for me. Today she stopped our study early. She complimented me on my progress, even in just a week. She told me how her church has helped other Chinese young people with their studies. She told me of one girl, a girl from Victoria, and they are helping pay for her to become a doctor! This is very shocking to me — a doctor! I did not know that girls can be doctors. That would be such a fine thing to do. If I became a doctor I could help all those people in Chinatown who fear going to the Canadian hospitals with their white doctors and nurses. Miss MacDonald laughed at my surprised face. “Mr. Hughes was right, May. You are a very clever girl. With the right opportunity and help, you could do anything you wanted to do!” she said.
Saturday, December 16
Last night was a tossy-turny night as I tried to sleep, but could not. Baba was coughing a lot. I got up and made him hot water with ginger root and that seemed to help. But it was not just the coughing. It was Miss MacDonald’s words; they ran in my head like dogs chasing cats. I know she told me about that girl because she wanted to encourage me, but she is wrong, wrong, wrong! I cannot do anything I want. Not even when we finally have Ma and Little Brother here. Then I must still work to make the family secure. It is so hard. Miss MacDonald means well, but what does she know of what it is like to be me?
Later
I kept those thoughts out of my mind, Diary. I will not let myself dream. Working helped. I cleaned our little room, and then I cleaned Mr. Chee’s. He grumbled at me and said that I made him feel tired because I was always moving like a spinning top, but he was pleased, I know. He is much better, but he is very thin after his cold.
It seems like everyone is happy now. I visited with Yook Jieh this afternoon and she is fluttery like a bird with excitement. Mrs. Mah has told her that they will choose her husband soon, so that she can be married by the New Year celebrations. That would be very fine. She worried me because she told me that one of her suitors last week came all the way from Victoria. I hope he is not the chosen one. I do not want Yook Jieh to go so far away, but maybe that is a selfish thought.
Wong Bak and Tsung Sook are also happy. Business has been good. This makes me happy too, for it will add to our savings. They want to plan a banquet to celebrate the Winter Solstice Festival next week. I had forgotten about the festival. They were laughing and planning who we might invite. They each have friends among the bachelors. I know that they would include Mr. Chee, but he might be invited to the Lees’ too. Who would I invite? I would invite Yook Jieh of course, and, though I know it cannot be, I would dearly love to invite Bess. She could not come. She has never come into Chinatown.
Ai-yah! I have done it again. I am thinking always about here. Winter Solstice Festival is the time for families to come together. It is now the fourth year we are a family that is broken apart by the ocean!
Sunday, December 17
Just a short time to write. After Baba left for work, I slept in. I have never done that before. I was very tired and had slept so little because of Baba’s cough. It is loud and sounds like a motor car engine trying to start. I swear it made the screen around his bed shake.
I did not wake up until he came home just after lunch. He is not well. I persuaded him to go to bed and stay there. He tried to say that he must go to the restaurant later, but I was very fierce and said that Wong Bak would understand. I wished that I could have gone to the Baldwins’ in his place this morning.
Wong Bak is a good man, and he did understand, but it meant I had to work extra hard, helping with preparation, while Tsung Sook did the serving. I am tired now, and will stop writing. Baba was sleeping deeply when I came home with Mr. Chee. I am using a candle to write by so as not to disturb him. He has not coughed. This is good.
Monday, December 18
Both Bess and Declan were absent from school today. I do hope they are all right.
I felt like a little mouse, scurrying from place to place, looking over my shoulder all the time, just waiting for Ivor to pounce on me. It makes me sad, but I realize that, apart from Bess, I have no other friends at school. I haven’t needed them because she has always been there. Ada Howe sometimes talks to Bess, but I do not feel brave enough to presume that she would talk to me.
Mr. Hughes let me stay inside at recess. There were some textbooks that needed covering and I asked if I might do that.
Poor Lily did not know what to make of me today. I bundled her into her coat and then we ran all the way home. I tried to say it was a game, but she did not look happy. There was no sign of Ivor.
Tuesday, December 19
Ivor caught me today, Diary, but he is such a clever boy that I can do nothing. I am very sad, but I can tell no one but you.
We were in class, writing an essay. Mr. Hughes was writing some Maths problems on the board. Ivor put up his hand and asked if he might get some more ink for the well on his desk. When he was given permission, he went to the front and picked up the big flask of ink with the spout. As he walked back down the aisle to his seat behind me, he was grinning. Just as he came near, he pretended to stumble forward as if he had tripped on something, and he swung the ink bottle so that ink flew out all over my desk, my essay and, worst of all, me — great splashes of ink all over my white middy blouse. I cried out and Mr. Hughes turned. Ivor quickly said, “Oh, no! Look what I have done. I’m sorry, sir, but I tripped.” Ink had hit his desk too, but only a little.
I am ashamed, because I cried. I sat there and cried. Mr. Hughes was kind. He sent me to one of the lady teachers. She found me an old blouse to wear and soaked mine, but not all the ink came out. It hangs on the back of a chair as I write and I see the marks still, pale blue shadows. Mr. Hughes made Ivor clear up the mess on the desks, but did not punish him. How could he — it was just an accident, wasn’t it? He did not hear Ivor later when he whispered in my ear, “That’s just the start, May Chin!”
I do not want to write any more.
Wednesday, December 20
I was alone again today. Bess and Declan are still away. All day I was on edge, but Ivor did nothing more to me. Well, nothing except smirking, and once he sort of jumped toward me in the corridor. I screamed and he laughed. I wish I were braver.
Baba is feeling better, much better, and that makes my heart very glad. I am very lucky as I do not seem to have caught anything from either him or Mr. Chee. Baba noticed my blouse last night and wanted to know what had happened. I am ashamed of myself but I lied to him. I said that I had dropped the ink bottle. I do not want him to worry. Nor do I want him to think he has not made a wise decision by sending me to school. I know how lucky I am. I think he believed me because he just grunted and said no more.
I am having to become a very sneaky girl in lots of ways. Even though it made me a little late, I changed my blouse last night before I went to Miss MacDonald. I did not want her asking me questions. She is such a determined person that it is hard not to answer her. I could just see her going to the school and telling Mr. Hughes what had happened, and that would be a very, very bad thing. My life is already being made miserable because I got Ivor into trouble.
Oh, I have surprised myself. Not even two full weeks and I have come to depend on going to see Miss MacDonald. Today will be the last time that she can see me until January, as she is going home to Ontario to visit her family. Her brother is a minister in Toronto. He has many children, she told me, and one of her nieces is just my age. She smiled and said that this niece reminds her of me, as she loves to learn too.
When it was time for me to go, Miss MacDonald stood up and took a package from the bureau and shoved it toward me. “It’s a Christmas gift, May,” she said. “I picked up one for my niece too.” She seemed embarrassed and would not look at me. “I know you probably don’t celebrate Christmas, but isn’t one of your festivals at this time? Can it be a gift for that?”
My heart was very full. I knew it was a book, by the feel of the package, and knew it couldn’t be a diary because I have told Miss MacDonald about you. She looked so awkward and hopeful all at the same time, so I told her that yes we do give each other presents at Winter Solstice, but I did not tell her that it is usually just family and that new clothes are the gift. She asked me to open it, and it was beautiful. It is a book called Anne of Green Gables by a lady called L.M. Montgomery. Miss MacDonald said that when I read it, I will see that Anne and I are a little alike. I have never ever owned a book before. I shall treasure it as much as I do you, Diary.
It has been a good day today. Only one more day of school, and I will not have to worry about Ivor until January. He kept sneaking up behind me again, but I tried to make sure that I was always where there were crowds. Bess is still not back, nor is Declan. I worry for them, even though I don’t really like Declan.
Friday, December 22
Lots more rain today, but I am no longer the ice girl, just the wet one! We stayed in at recess so it was easy to avoid Ivor. Ada’s desk mate, Maisie, was away so she asked Mr. Hughes if I could move and sit with her. This was surprising to me — surprising that she would ask, and surprising that he agreed. He was very jolly today; all the teachers were. We did not have normal lessons, but sang carols, drew pictures and played word games and quizzes. I knew a lot of the answers, but felt shy about putting my hand up. Ivor did very well and he got an extra piece of the candy that Mr. Hughes had brought in for us. I decided to keep mine and share it with either Yook Jieh or Mr. Chee. It was chocolate. Some people had brought Mr. Hughes little gifts. I did not, and that made me feel very bad because he has been so kind to me. Ada said that she didn’t have money to buy gifts so she had made him one, a pen wipe out of felt. She had embroidered it so that it looked like a flower that she called a pansy. It was very lovely. I shall do that, and I won’t wait until next Christmas either, because he might not be my teacher then. I shall make him and Miss MacDonald something during the holidays.
There was good news too, when I took Lily home. I had thought that Mrs. Lee would not need me now that school was done for a while, but her baby is due soon, and she has asked me to come for much of the day, starting next week, to help mind the children. She will pay me 25¢ a day! I will be rich — that is, if Baba says I may go.
It was a lovely day, but it would have been lovelier if Bess had returned. I asked Ada if she knew what was wrong, but she said she had not seen any of the Murphys around their neighbourhood all this week. Now my worry is getting bigger.
Saturday, December 23
This will be a long entry, Diary, to make up for how I have been neglecting you, and because it has been a special day, both sweet and bitter. Sweet because we celebrated the Winter Solstice Festival with a banquet just like Wong Bak and Tsung Sook planned, but bitter because all day thoughts of Ma flooded into my heart. It is a family time, and although we gathered with the friends who have become our family here, it made the absence of our real families harder to bear. I cried a little when I thought of China, picturing our simple house and the fields around it. Ma, Grandfather and Grandmother (I see Grandmother healthy in my mind, because that’s how I want her to be) eating their special meal. I can’t see my little brother so easily because he was born after I left for Gum Shan with Baba, but I know that he will be strong and sturdy. He has a strong, good name too — Sing-wah, which means “Arise, China!” I made sure my tears fell only when no one was there to see them.
It was a day when I kept a promise. I asked Mrs. Lee if Lily could visit the restaurant today. She has wanted to for such a long time. I took her this morning. It was very funny because with me she chatters like a little monkey, but when she met Wong Bak and Tsung Sook her words dried up. They were very kind, and Tsung Sook carved her a rose from a radish. Her “M’goi” was very quiet, but Tsung Sook smiled to hear her thanks.
Oh, our banquet was fine. In the restaurant, the usual smells of onions and garlic were there, but I could also smell black beans. They are Baba’s favourites. He had asked Mrs. Baldwin if he could come home early if he worked the whole day tomorrow, and she agreed. Mr. Chee and I spent most of the day at the restaurant. I was right, he was invited to the Lees too, but he is crafty and has arranged to eat with them tomorrow! He sat and drank tea while I helped Wong Bak and Tsung Sook with the preparations. I was surprised by my Baba. He was later than I thought, and when he came he had a bag with him — a bag from Woodward’s. In it were two most beautiful middy waists, just my size, one pale blue and one pink. Best of all, they have detachable collars, so if I am careful, I can just wash those collars and not the whole blouse. I started to say that we needed to save our money, but he stopped me and said, “You need to have proper clothes too, Ah-Mei.” I have the best, most thoughtful Baba in the whole world.
We closed the restaurant early. Our guests arrived and what food there was! Not the fancy rich man’s food like the Mahs had at their banquet, but like the food Ma cooked at home. My mouth is filling with water just thinking about it! Everyone enjoyed it, smacking their lips and praising Wong Bak. We made chicken cooked three ways: steamed and white with a tasty sauce of oil, scallions and ginger; a rich, rich soup with beads of fat on the surface; and then while we sat around the table, Wong Bak stir-fried the gizzard, heart and liver with vegetables. There was a pork butt roast, braised with ginger and sugar, a big steamed fish, stir-fried beef and vegetable, and then the Toong Yuan. That soup made us all silent, and I could see memories rise in people’s eyes. The little sticky rice balls bobbed on the surface of the soup, white ones and then some stained pink for good fortune. Toong Yuan. Oh, those words hurt when I thought about how their meaning can change if you pronounce them just a little differently — rice-ball soup, or family reunion. In all our different ways then, that is what we thought about, what we wanted. Baba patted my hand. His voice raspy, he said, “We will do it, Ah-Mei, if we work hard, we will do it!”
Sunday, December 24
Why is it that my life switches from good to bad so quickly?
It is my own fault. I should listen more. My Baba told me not to venture out of Chinatown after he found out I went to Woodward’s with Bess, but I twisted his words in my head. I promised him that I would not go out with Bess again, and I didn’t — I went looking for her. I know that is deceit, but I just had to find out why she and Declan had both missed school. Last night I could not sleep, thinking about how she has been such a good friend to me, almost like a sister. And how sad she had been, how bruised Declan was. Winter Solstice kept turning my thoughts to how important family and friends are. Bess would probably have just snorted and said that I had indigestion from too much rich food.
This morning, soon after Baba left for work, I sneaked out, creeping like a mouse so I would not draw Mr. Chee’s attention. It is not far to Bess’s house, but I have never been there. I did not know what I would say, or even know that I would say anything when I got there. Maybe I would see Declan playing on Union Street, and then I could go home happy.
Now I do not know what to do. The Murphys have gone.
When I knocked on the door, and I really did knock only quietly, a man wearing just an undershirt and trousers threw it open and shouted at me for disturbing him so early. He seemed very angry. He was very hairy, like an animal. His voice made mine very small when I asked if he was Mr. Murphy. His face got all red then, and he yelled some more, fast and loud with the spit flying from his mouth. I did not understand all he said, but, oh, Diary, I am so sad for Bess. The man said her father had gone, “had done a bunk.” He got angrier and angrier, shouting like it was my fault. Nasty words came out, “Feckless, bloody Irish, spending their money on drink. They haven’t paid the last two months’ rent!” I think he was the landlord, because he boasted — boasted that he had put them out on the street where they belonged. How could anyone take pleasure in making people miserable like that?
I asked very politely, because I did not want to make him even angrier, if he knew where they had gone. It was very strange. It was like he only then saw me. “What’s it to you, you little Chink?” he said, pushing his face close to mine.
I shrank away, backing down the steps. I did not want to hear this man any more. He raised his arm like he would hit me. “Clear off out of here, you yellow heathen, disturbing decent people on Christmas Eve!”
I ran, oh how I ran, Diary. I did not look back until my own building was in my view. I did not even care about being quiet on the stairs. I slammed my door behind me and threw myself onto my bed.
It has taken me an hour to calm down. Writing what happened has helped, but oh, where are Bess and her family, what has become of them?