Читать книгу Eat a Bowl of Tea - Louis Chu - Страница 10

One evening a few days later, the door to the Money Come club house opened and Ben Loy stepped in. No one at the mah-jong table bothered to look up to see who it was. They continued playing as if no one had come in at all. The young man paused at the door, trying to adjust his sight to the basement’s dinginess. His steps quickened until he stopped next to Wah Gay.

“Got a letter for you,” Ben Loy told his father. From his inside coat pocket he extracted a bluish air mail letter and placed it on the table by the proprietor’s elbow.

“Off today?” Wah Gay pocketed the letter, keeping his eyes on the mah-jongs.

“Yes,” the young man replied, and left.

The mah-jongs thudded and clucked against one another.

“Poeng powng!”

“Wow your mother. You are dead lucky.”

Wah Gay did not get to read the letter until early in the morning, after the mah-jong game had broken up. It was from his wife, Lau Shee, in Sunwei District, Kwangtung Province, China. Even before he opened the letter he was sure he knew what was in it. It was the same old story. Money. For what other subject could there be? His letters from China had been infrequent, partly because he neglected to write home.

To Wah Gay’s surprise, this letter mentioned a new matter: The return of their son Ben Loy to Sunwei to get married.

He began to read:

Dearly beloved husband … as if I’m talking to you face to face. More than twenty springs have passed since you left the village. Those who go overseas tend to forget home and remain abroad forever. I hope my husband is not one of those. Ben Loy is now a man. It is your responsibility to see that he comes home and makes himself a family. Many veterans are now returning to Sunwei to take a bride.… When you were home you spoke of acquiring a parcel of land between our vegetable garden and the well.… Hope your business will be successful enough to permit you to accompany Ben Loy home for a brief visit.…

Wah Gay lay alone and pensive on his folding bed, only an arm’s reach from the old-fashioned sink that stood against the wall near the doorway. Privacy from the rest of the room was afforded by a wooden partition which reached to the ceiling. A small oblong table stood at the foot of his bed. The mah-jong players had gone. He was all alone now. Each time he had received a letter from his wife he began to relive the past. He knew it was not right to let the old woman stay in the village by herself. He often wondered, during lonely moments, if perhaps some day he and Lau Shee would have a joyous reunion. His mind began to wander to the clouds.…

… Twenty some springs. It was in 1923 that he went back to China to get married … this is the year 1948. Twenty-five springs to be exact, since I left the village. Ben Loy will be twenty-four soon. Those who go back are always the same ones. Thrifty, stay-at-home laundrymen. Every three or four years they go back. Come back and work a few more years and they would be on their way again. The little old woman … she is a kind and good wife. Heh heh, I guess she now wants to become a mother-in-law. Women are like that. They all do. When they have a son eighteen or so, you can’t keep them from wanting to become mothers-in-law. After daughter-in-law there comes grandson. Heh heh, or they want a granddaughter. But they all prefer boys. Elder brother in Chicago has two grandsons. Women are like that. They want to become grandmothers.…

Wah Gay reread the letter again: Dearly beloved husband …

That night Wah Gay found it difficult to sleep.