LANGUAGE OF THREADS - Softcover

Chapter One
1938
Pei
Pei glanced down into the dark, glassy water of Hong Kong harbor and suddenly felt shy and wordless. She saw herself as a child again, whom, at the age of eight, her father had taken to the girls’ house in the village of Yung Kee. Compared to their small farm, everything had been big and frightening. For nineteen years, Pei had lived and worked with Lin doing the silk work, only this time, Lin’s patience and kindness wouldn’t be waiting for her when she arrived.
Now, she alone would have to care for Ji Shen in the big, vibrant city; the thought terrified her. At fourteen, Ji Shen was almost half Pei’s age, and had already been orphaned once, fleeing from the Japanese devils in Nanking. She had miraculously found her way to the girls’ house, where Pei and Lin had nursed her back to health. As the Imperial Japanese Army closed in on Canton, they’d made a desperate run to Hong Kong without Lin to guide them. That the past weeks had been spent in constant movement was a saving grace. Pei’s days had been filled with the needs of Ji Shen and with their impending voyage.
When the ferry groaned and finally docked, it swayed from side to side, knocking and creaking against the wooden pier. As the crowd pushed to disembark, Pei stopped abruptly at the railing and stared down at the clapboard ramp that led to the crowded pier.
“We have to keep moving,” Ji Shen whispered, gently urging her forward.
Pei held onto her cloth sacks and inched toward the ramp. High shrieking voices pierced the air, attacking them from every direction. Pei felt a sharp jab from someone behind, then stepped down the ramp into the dizzying, hypnotic life that would now be hers and Ji Shen’s.
“Hong Kong’s so crowded,” Ji Shen said, clutching the sleeve of Pei’s white tunic.
“Yes.” Pei smiled wearily. She hoped Ji Shen couldn’t see how afraid she was. Everything around them hummed and buzzed with movement. Ships from all over the world were docked in Hong Kong harbor, ships with long, complicated names written on their sides. Sampans huddled together, filled with families who lived their lives on the boats crowded, swaying decks. Faces glared at them, then quickly turned away. There were more Westerners than Pei had ever seen. Even many of the Chinese women were dressed in Western clothing.
From the pier they turned left and walked down the crowded street, sidestepping swarms of people as if in a dance, sweating in the humidity. The salty pungent smells and high whining voices were overwhelming. They passed endless stalls of merchants, selling silk stockings, flowers, fresh fruit, and hot noodles in soup. Filthy, toothless beggars thrust their wooden bowls out, hoping for a coin or two. Ji Shen squeezed Pei’s arm tighter as they fought their way through the crowd. A long, jagged line of rickshaws and their drivers snaked from one end of the street to the next. Pei felt her pocket for their envelope of money and the letter Chen Ling had given her with the names and addresses of other silk sisters who had made their way to Hong Kong. “Go to the address at the top of the list,” Chen Ling had directed. In her other hand, Pei grasped her belongings, including the cloth bag Moi had insisted she take. Pei carefully swung it over her shoulder, the jars of herbs and dried fruits clinking against one another.
“Ride, missees? Cheap deal!” A barefoot boy wearing once-white cotton pants and shirt—he was no older, Pei guessed, than thirteen or fourteen—stopped in front of them. A pointed straw hat hung from a string around his neck, thumping against his back. He pointed to a red-and-green rickshaw, which sat next to a nearby stone wall. On the ground beside it, an older woman in mismatched, soiled clothing cradled two smaller children on a straw mat.
“I’ll give you a much better price!” another voice, belonging to an older, bigger man interjected.
“No, no, thank you.” Pei took a step forward, but neither rickshaw driver moved.
“Cheapest deal in Hong Kong!” the boy repeated.
Pei pulled Chen Ling’s letter from her pocket and looked past Ji Shen and the rickshaw drivers toward the crowded street ahead. In the weeks before Lin died, she had told Pei of going to Hong Kong with her father as a little girl. Across the street was a large open space—the one Lin had said was Statue Square. Statue Square was where the Government House and city hall stood, flanked by the precipitous green hills that loomed over everything. Pei caught her breath at the sight.
“Where are we going?” Ji Shen asked.
Pei cleared her throat. “Over there.” She straightened her shoulders and began walking toward the square.
“Please, missees, cheapest deal in all of Hong Kong!” The boy was still following them.
“Don’t listen to him.” The older man laughed. “He’s too scrawny to pull you more than a few feet!”
Pei stopped. She put down her belongings and looked up at the darkening sky. It was getting late. Statue Square would have to wait until another day. From the corner of her eye, Pei could see another rickshaw driver approaching them. She turned toward the boy. His smile grew wide now that he’d gained Pei’s attention. She pointed to the address at the top of Chen Ling’s letter. “Do you know where this is?”
The older rickshaw driver coughed and then spat on the ground in front of them. “Only a fool would choose a boy to do a man’s job!” he said, stomping away.
The boy studied the letter for a few moments. Finally, he nodded his head in recognition. “In Wan Chai, not so far from here. No problem. I’ll have you there in no time,” the boy boasted. He glanced quickly at Ji Shen.
Pei hesitated. “Are you sure you know how to get there? Maybe we should try—”
“Yes, yes, right away.” The boy nodded again. He ran back to the woman sitting on the ground, whispered some words to her, then grabbed the rickshaw and quickly pulled it toward Pei and Ji Shen. “Right away, right away! I know just the place. No need to worry.” He stepped aside, offering Pei and Ji Shen help up into his rickshaw.
Pei suddenly remembered the stories she’d heard of rickshaw pullers doubling and even tripling prices once they arrived at their passengers’ destination. Lin had told her to settle on a price immediately, before climbing up into the seat.
“How much?” Pei asked, fingering the Hong Kong coins she’d gotten at the exchange in Canton. She kept her voice low and confident.
“Don’t worry, missee.” The boy smiled. “I’ll bring you there for a fair price.”
When they’d settled on a fare, Ji Shen stepped up into the rickshaw. Then Pei squeezed into the torn leather seat next to her, proud of her first Hong Kong transaction.
The boy jumped between the wooden poles, squatting low to grip a pole in each hand. “Don’t worry, Quan will get you there.”
Pei felt sorry for him and wondered how such a skinny boy would be able to pull them more than a few feet, but Quan straightened his back, tightened his leg muscles, lifted up the poles, and moments later had them gliding smoothly down the crowded street. He called out, “Coming through! Coming through!” to urge the crowds and waiting rickshaw drivers out of his way. Ji Shen let out a scream and covered her eyes when they barely missed knocking down another driver. “I’ll kill you next time!” the man shouted after them, raising his fists at them, but Quan simply turned around and yelled back, “You have to catch me...