twelve-hour train ride and a frightening taxi trek out of town and into the country, she’d arrived at her new foster home exhausted and hungry. They’d put her to work immediately, without even a chance to rest from her trip. Once settled, Li Jin didn’t mind that she was soon taking care of all the cooking, cleaning, and even grocery shopping. She had a room of her own. Even if it was sparse, it was more than she’d ever had, and she was cooking and eating three meals a day. It was hard work but she was glad to show her appreciation of being off the street by taking over all the woman’s chores. The woman was older, at least fifty, and she suffered from severe arthritis. Li Jin felt sorry for her and was glad to finally be needed. The father was gone working most of the time and Li Jin saw more of his dirty clothes that she washed and ironed than of the person who wore them. Everything was fine until their son came home for a visit. He had a name, but Li Jin would never utter it. She wouldn’t even allow herself to think it.
Right away she’d tried to ignore the warning signs she got from the son and put her suspicions to her few years on the street and always having to watch her back. She thought she must be paranoid. Only a few years older than she, the son was in his last year of college. With his fancy clothes and expensive mobile phone he was spoiled; there was no doubt about that. Li Jin even had to cook better foods and more meat while he was there. Mostly he ignored her, treating her like an invisible slave but bragging to his parents in her presence about his life at school and his stellar grade point average, his plan to work as an engineer and buy an apartment in a big city. With his grandiose declarations he made it clear he had a future that she’d never reach, and he wanted her to know it. With his visit Li Jin had been moved out of the house to sleep on the covered porch. She didn’t really mind it, other than the relentless mosquitos and the chilly mornings, which she took in stride. She knew she’d be able to move right back inside as soon as the son left.
Li Jin looked at the back of Obi’s head as he drove and realized that he was about the same age as the son was back then. She wondered why he wasn’t in college and how he had gotten a visa to be in China. All she knew was that he and Erik had come to China at the same time, but they were at least a decade apart in age. Something about the dispassionate way Obi treated Jojo reminded her of the foster son. He’d carried that same cruel look. Especially the night he came to the porch and took what wasn’t his to take.
First she’d put on her tough street act but he’d seen right through that. When he kept coming at her, she’d begged and pleaded with him but to no avail. He was strong and ruthless and had left her battered and scarred. It was the first time she’d been raped, and she’d never forget how he rose from her pallet and told her to have his breakfast ready early the next morning, that he had plans for the day. She’d huddled in the corner, the blanket wrapped around her, trembling from shock. He’d stared at her as if he’d done nothing out of the ordinary, even as if he was entitled to what he took. She’d left the house that night not only without the innocence she’d guarded carefully for so many years, but also without her faith in humanity. With only the clothes she wore and the invisible scars she’d carry forever, she never looked back.
She had known she was pregnant right away. Even before she had begun to show, her body felt different—heavier and special, as if it held a secret.
She was ashamed to admit it now but she’d considered abortion. But she was thankful it was an option quickly discarded. Nine months later in a tiny hostel, the three girls who unfortunately shared the room with her then had to help her through childbirth. That was when she’d laid eyes on Jojo and her lost faith in humanity
Right away she’d tried to ignore the warning signs she got from the son and put her suspicions to her few years on the street and always having to watch her back. She thought she must be paranoid. Only a few years older than she, the son was in his last year of college. With his fancy clothes and expensive mobile phone he was spoiled; there was no doubt about that. Li Jin even had to cook better foods and more meat while he was there. Mostly he ignored her, treating her like an invisible slave but bragging to his parents in her presence about his life at school and his stellar grade point average, his plan to work as an engineer and buy an apartment in a big city. With his grandiose declarations he made it clear he had a future that she’d never reach, and he wanted her to know it. With his visit Li Jin had been moved out of the house to sleep on the covered porch. She didn’t really mind it, other than the relentless mosquitos and the chilly mornings, which she took in stride. She knew she’d be able to move right back inside as soon as the son left.
Li Jin looked at the back of Obi’s head as he drove and realized that he was about the same age as the son was back then. She wondered why he wasn’t in college and how he had gotten a visa to be in China. All she knew was that he and Erik had come to China at the same time, but they were at least a decade apart in age. Something about the dispassionate way Obi treated Jojo reminded her of the foster son. He’d carried that same cruel look. Especially the night he came to the porch and took what wasn’t his to take.
First she’d put on her tough street act but he’d seen right through that. When he kept coming at her, she’d begged and pleaded with him but to no avail. He was strong and ruthless and had left her battered and scarred. It was the first time she’d been raped, and she’d never forget how he rose from her pallet and told her to have his breakfast ready early the next morning, that he had plans for the day. She’d huddled in the corner, the blanket wrapped around her, trembling from shock. He’d stared at her as if he’d done nothing out of the ordinary, even as if he was entitled to what he took. She’d left the house that night not only without the innocence she’d guarded carefully for so many years, but also without her faith in humanity. With only the clothes she wore and the invisible scars she’d carry forever, she never looked back.
She had known she was pregnant right away. Even before she had begun to show, her body felt different—heavier and special, as if it held a secret.
She was ashamed to admit it now but she’d considered abortion. But she was thankful it was an option quickly discarded. Nine months later in a tiny hostel, the three girls who unfortunately shared the room with her then had to help her through childbirth. That was when she’d laid eyes on Jojo and her lost faith in humanity
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