Marigold
Marigold Yuen used to think she had a knack for fixing things. C’s in chemistry, car lockouts, and tangled cassette tapes, even ankle sprains—every aunty north of Ashby Avenue knew to come to her for a miracle repair.
But at twenty-four, she had learned that there were two things beyond her skill: the heart she’d broken, for one. Then there was her mother.
Helen had slipped away to the airplane lavatory fifteen minutes ago. Were it anyone else, Marigold would have assumed a case of first-flight nerves—nothing to worry about. Except this was her mother. Nothing was normal when it came to her mother.
“Miss?” A stewardess knelt at Marigold’s side. “Your friend needs to return to her seat. We’re getting ready for departure.”
Marigold unbuckled her safety belt.That’s my mom, not my friend,she thought, but she kept it to herself. Best to spare everyone the awkward soliloquy about how young Helen looked and how little she resembled her. “I’ll see if she’s all right.”
“Please hurry, we’re number three for takeoff.”
Marigold made her way down the narrow aisle to the back of the plane, ignoring the glares of her fellow passengers. The lavatory door readOccupied.
“Mom.” Marigold knocked. “Are you all right?”
No answer.
“I’ve got po chai yuen if you need it for your stomach.”
Still no response. Marigold twisted her hands. She was starting to get nervous.
The thing was, her mother had a habit of disappearing. Notdisappearing,the way Professor Thompson’s wife had run off with the IRS agent right before finals, or when Aunty Yip’s niece disappeared to Fresno for a month after getting plastic surgery on her nose.
Literally vanishing.
Three times in her life, Marigold had witnessed it happen. One minute, Helen was physically whole—from the tortoise-shell barrette in her hair, to the slight gap between her bottom front teeth, to the lumpy callouses on her palms—she was flesh and bone. She was matter. Then, with little warning,impossibly,she was gone.
Each episode had ended with Helen returning safe and whole and pretending that nothing had happened. But lately her mother seemed to be struggling. Marigold worried—sensed—that a fourth disappearance might be different. Final.
She knocked harder. She was starting to feel sick standing this close to the smoking area, and she coughed, the fumes clogging her throat. “Mom, whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t.”
The door swung open, and there stood her mother, wiping her hands with a paper towel. One arm had become as sheer as a nylon stocking and shimmered as she moved, though maybe that was the lavatory light flickering.
“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Helen said calmly. “Did you bring your inhaler? There’s another toilet across the galley—you didn’t have to wait for this one.”
“I wasn’t—” Marigold exhaled and summoned her patience. “The pilot needs everybody seated for takeoff.”
“We’d better hurry and get off, then.”
“What do you mean, get off?”
“I left the wedding money on my dresser. I need to go home and get it. Don’t make that face, we’ll just take the next flight.”
Marigold couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “We’ve already left the gate.”
“Can’t we turn around? We’re not in the air yet.”
“No.” Marigold grabbed her mother’s sleeve, towing her back to their seats. “I’ll take you to a bank after we land. Everyone’s waiting for us to sit down.”
It was then that Helen noticed the other passengers. Their glares did nothing to faze her; that was the power of a beautiful woman. And in her youth, Helen had been famously beautiful.
Putting on an apologetic smile, she faced the cabin. “I wasn’t feeling well,” she said in Cantonese. “This is my first flight. Going to see family after many years.”
Only about half the passengers understood, but everyone immediately forgave her. The stewardess gave her a handful of Sina ginger candy and the men tucked in their arms so their jutting elbows wouldn’t obstruct the aisle. Marigold followed like a shadow that no one noticed.
Helen sank into her seat. Her armwasshimmering, and Marigold was close enough to see that parts of her fingers were translucent.
