she threw a massive tantrum.
“What’s this?” she said, picking up a paper polo shirt. “Where got Nai Nai wear this kind of thing?”
Ma looked embarrassed.
“The shop only had that,” she said. “Don’t be angry, girl. I bought some bag and shoe also. But you know Nai Nai was never the dressy kind.”
“That’s because she like to keep all her nice clothes,” said Wei Yi. She cast a look of burning contempt on the paper handbag, printed in heedless disregard of intellectual property rights with the Gucci logo. “Looks like the pasar malam bag. And this slippers is like old man slippers. Nai Nai could put two of her feet in one slipper!”
“Like that she’s less likely to hop away,” Ma said thoughtlessly.
“Is that what you call respecting your mother?” shouted Wei Yi. “Hah, you wait until it’s your turn! I’ll know how to treat you then.”
“Wei Yi, how can you talk to Ma like that?” said Vivian.
“You shut up your face!” Wei Yi snapped. She flounced out of the room.
“She never even see the house yet,” sighed Ma. She had bought an elaborate palace fashioned out of gilt-edged pink paper, with embellished roofs and shuttered windows, and two dolls dressed in Tang dynasty attire prancing on a balcony. “Got two servants some more.”
“She shouldn’t talk to you like that,” said Vivian.
She hadn’t noticed any change in Ma’s appearance before, but now the soft wrinkly skin under her chin and the pale brown spots on her arms reminded Vivian that she was getting old. Old people should be cared for.
She touched her mother on the arm. “I’ll go scold her. Never mind, Ma. Girls this age are always one kind.”
Ma smiled at Vivian.
“You were OK,” she said. She tucked a lock of Vivian’s hair behind her ear.
Old people should be grateful for affection. The sudden disturbing thought occurred to Vivian that no one had liked Nai Nai very much because she’d never submitted to being looked after.
Wei Yi was trying to free the dogs. She stood by the gate, holding it open and gesturing with one hand at the great outdoors.
“Go! Blackie, Guinness, Ah Hei, Si Hitam, Jackie, Bobby! Go, go!”
The dogs didn’t seem that interested in the great outdoors. Ah Hei took a couple of tentative steps towards the gate, looked back at Wei Yi, changed her mind and sat down again.
“Jackie and Bobby?” said Vivian.
Wei Yi shot her a glare. “I ran out of ideas.” The so what? was unspoken, but it didn’t need to be said.
“Why these stupid dogs don’t want to go,” Wei Yi muttered. “When you open the gate to drive in or out, they go running everywhere. When you want them to chau, they don’t want.”
“They can tell you won’t let them back in again,” said Vivian.
She remembered when Wei Yi had been cute—as a little girl, with those pure single-lidded eyes and the doll-like lacquered bowl of hair. When had she turned into this creature? Hair at sevens and eights, the uneven fringe falling into malevolent eyes. Inappropriately tight Bermuda shorts worn below an unflatteringly loose plaid shirt.
At seven Wei Yi had been a being perfect in herself. At seventeen there was nothing that wasn’t wrong about the way she moved in the world.
Vivian had been planning to tell her sister off, but the memory of that lovely child softened her voice. “Why you don’t want the dogs anymore?”
“I want Nai Nai to win.” Wei Yi slammed the gate shut.
“What, by having nice clothes when she’s passed away?” said Vivian. “Winning or losing, doesn’t matter for Nai Nai anymore. What does it matter if she wears a polo shirt in the afterlife?”
Wei Yi’s face crumpled. She clutched her fists in agony. The words broke from her in a roar.
“You’re so stupid! You don’t know anything!” She kicked the gate to relieve her feelings. “Nai Nai’s brain works more than yours and she’s dead ! Do you even belong to this family?”
This was why Vivian had left.
“What’s this?” she said, picking up a paper polo shirt. “Where got Nai Nai wear this kind of thing?”
Ma looked embarrassed.
“The shop only had that,” she said. “Don’t be angry, girl. I bought some bag and shoe also. But you know Nai Nai was never the dressy kind.”
“That’s because she like to keep all her nice clothes,” said Wei Yi. She cast a look of burning contempt on the paper handbag, printed in heedless disregard of intellectual property rights with the Gucci logo. “Looks like the pasar malam bag. And this slippers is like old man slippers. Nai Nai could put two of her feet in one slipper!”
“Like that she’s less likely to hop away,” Ma said thoughtlessly.
“Is that what you call respecting your mother?” shouted Wei Yi. “Hah, you wait until it’s your turn! I’ll know how to treat you then.”
“Wei Yi, how can you talk to Ma like that?” said Vivian.
“You shut up your face!” Wei Yi snapped. She flounced out of the room.
“She never even see the house yet,” sighed Ma. She had bought an elaborate palace fashioned out of gilt-edged pink paper, with embellished roofs and shuttered windows, and two dolls dressed in Tang dynasty attire prancing on a balcony. “Got two servants some more.”
“She shouldn’t talk to you like that,” said Vivian.
She hadn’t noticed any change in Ma’s appearance before, but now the soft wrinkly skin under her chin and the pale brown spots on her arms reminded Vivian that she was getting old. Old people should be cared for.
She touched her mother on the arm. “I’ll go scold her. Never mind, Ma. Girls this age are always one kind.”
Ma smiled at Vivian.
“You were OK,” she said. She tucked a lock of Vivian’s hair behind her ear.
Old people should be grateful for affection. The sudden disturbing thought occurred to Vivian that no one had liked Nai Nai very much because she’d never submitted to being looked after.
Wei Yi was trying to free the dogs. She stood by the gate, holding it open and gesturing with one hand at the great outdoors.
“Go! Blackie, Guinness, Ah Hei, Si Hitam, Jackie, Bobby! Go, go!”
The dogs didn’t seem that interested in the great outdoors. Ah Hei took a couple of tentative steps towards the gate, looked back at Wei Yi, changed her mind and sat down again.
“Jackie and Bobby?” said Vivian.
Wei Yi shot her a glare. “I ran out of ideas.” The so what? was unspoken, but it didn’t need to be said.
“Why these stupid dogs don’t want to go,” Wei Yi muttered. “When you open the gate to drive in or out, they go running everywhere. When you want them to chau, they don’t want.”
“They can tell you won’t let them back in again,” said Vivian.
She remembered when Wei Yi had been cute—as a little girl, with those pure single-lidded eyes and the doll-like lacquered bowl of hair. When had she turned into this creature? Hair at sevens and eights, the uneven fringe falling into malevolent eyes. Inappropriately tight Bermuda shorts worn below an unflatteringly loose plaid shirt.
At seven Wei Yi had been a being perfect in herself. At seventeen there was nothing that wasn’t wrong about the way she moved in the world.
Vivian had been planning to tell her sister off, but the memory of that lovely child softened her voice. “Why you don’t want the dogs anymore?”
“I want Nai Nai to win.” Wei Yi slammed the gate shut.
“What, by having nice clothes when she’s passed away?” said Vivian. “Winning or losing, doesn’t matter for Nai Nai anymore. What does it matter if she wears a polo shirt in the afterlife?”
Wei Yi’s face crumpled. She clutched her fists in agony. The words broke from her in a roar.
“You’re so stupid! You don’t know anything!” She kicked the gate to relieve her feelings. “Nai Nai’s brain works more than yours and she’s dead ! Do you even belong to this family?”
This was why Vivian had left.
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