Two guilty lines bracketed his mouth. He let out an exhale. “Here.” He scooped a handful of Hershey Kisses onto mypalm. “Keep some in your pocket. Pain’s less bitter if you have something sweet to eat.”
That made me smile. “Thank you.”
“One thing about America, our chocolates are good. Better than Hong Kong’s, right?”
“I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t afford any.”
“I thought you came from a rich family.”
I hugged my knees to my chest, the ache of melancholy rising again. “Just because they were rich doesn’t mean they were kind. Especially not to me.”
Francis pursed his lips. “It’s a good thing you have a new family now,” he said at last. He touched my cheek. “After tonight, I’m not just your brother-in-law, I’m your brother.”
A rush of emotion swelled in my throat. I released my knees.
“Better?” he said quietly. He’d been tending to my moods all day. He knew there was still a fracture in my spirit, one that no amount of chocolates or rounds of gin rummy could heal.
“Francis,” I said, drawing a ragged breath. My voice sank into a whisper, “What if I can’t have children?”
My brother-in-law sat by my side. “You’re young and healthy. Why wouldn’t you be able to have children?”
“Because...” I swallowed, not knowing how to explain without telling him my secret. “I don’t even have a shadow.”
Francis stroked his forehead. He couldn’t tell whether I was being serious or not. “Your shadow’s right there.” He pointed to the wall.
I squinted, but still there was nothing. “You really see it?”
“Of course I do,” Francis said. “Shadows don’t run away. They only disappear in the dark.” He grabbed a flashlight and cast light opposite us on the wall. “See? Yours and mine.”
Was this also part of my curse—to be alone in seeing that a part of me was missing? Of all the things to give up, a shadow had seemed immaterial, hardly critical to life or happiness. Yetits absence had cast my body adrift. Since losing it, I could never feel thoroughly anchored in my own skin. I always felt like something was lost, throwing off the fragile clockwork that made me tick. But who would believe that?
“I see it,” I lied.
Francis switched off the flashlight. “Cheer up. Philip will be home soon with leftovers from the restaurant. I’ll make you ngau lam tomorrow.”
“With rice noodles?”
“A week’s worth,” he promised. “You need your strength, make sure you finish every bite.”
He really was my brother, the dai gor I had wished for. “I will.”
That night, while I lay in bed beside Philip—and the guilt and the pain in my heart were too much to bear, I let it hurt. I let Philip wake up and hold me. I let myself cry.
It was too late for me, I knew. A part of me was broken, and I couldn’t escape my curse. But no matter what I had to endure, never again would I try to vanish. Never again would I choose to become nothing.
To the gods and spirits and the ancestral mothers who had come before me, I prayed this would be enough to stave off the demons, to starve them and let them die. Most fervently I prayed for this last part, that the torturous cycle that had aggrieved my mother’s life and her mother’s and hers—would end with me.
Should I have a daughter one day, let her be free.
Berkeley
1969
Chapter Thirty-Four
Marigold
Marigold started needing the gloves after she turned thirteen.
