The woman, clearly as much of a fool as Lan Li — but luckier, because she had me to prevent her from offering all her valuable possessions to thieves — now lifted her hands to cover her mouth.
“This,” I said to her, “is utter nonsense. Can you really have believed it? Lucky bags, midnight moments? If you go through with this, when you open the bag you will find your valuables gone, replaced by jingly trinkets or bars of soap. Go home,” I told her again. “Do not return here today. You have escaped serious danger. Please, seek genuine help. Not the counterfeit help of counterfeit sorcerers.”
I shooed her along. She appeared totally befuddled, but she took a few steps backwards, staring at me. Then, turning, she sped away.
Heading back along Mulberry Street, I returned to my bench in the park. While I listened to the music, the three bandit women stood on the street comer amiably chatting. After half an hour they began checking their watches. When forty-five minutes had passed they started to exchange worried looks. At the end of an hour they conferred, peered around, then hurried away in three different directions.
I would not be needed on Mulberry Street again until the following day. I rose to go home, where I would complete my arrangements, but before I entered the building where I live I stopped at the six-for-a-dollar dumpling stand across the street. I rarely spend money on dumplings, as I make such good ones myself. Considering what I had accomplished this afternoon, though, I thought I deserved a treat. Once home, I made a phone call to set an appointment for the following morning. Then I ate the dumplings. They were delicious, almost as good as mine.
The next morning I arrived early at Dragon’s Well Tea Parlor, where my appointment was to take place. Two old men sat near the back, while a young man read the newspaper at a table at the front. I chose a booth by the wall, as I suspected my guest would feel most comfortable there.
I had just ordered a pot of Iron Buddha tea when my guest arrived. She was a tall young woman, who wore her crisply ironed white shirt with the sleeves rolled up above the elbows. Perhaps I should mention this handsome look to my daughter. I lifted my hand. My guest crossed between the tables to my booth.
“Good morning, Jun Zhi-Wu,” I said. “Please be seated. Thank you for coming. I am Chin Yong-Yun. Perhaps you remember my late husband? He was the owner of Plum Garden restaurant on Mulberry Street.”
The tall young woman smiled as she slid opposite me. “Plum Garden,” she said. “I do remember. The children all called him Baba Chin. He gave us sweets. He didn’t treat me differently from any of the other children. I liked him very much.”
The tea arrived, along with a bowl of preserved plums. “May I pour you tea?” I asked. “This is Iron Buddha. Or I’d be glad to order whatever you prefer.”
“No, this is perfect.” She smiled again as I poured for her. “I enjoy Iron Buddha tea, but not many women drink it.”
“That is true, though I always have.”
Jun Zhi-Wu tapped her finger on the table, an ancient “thank you” to the person who pours your tea. I was glad to see her observe the old custom. It boded well for our conversation.
“If you are the widow of Baba Chin,” she said, “then I also was friends at school with your second son.”
“Both my older sons are married now.” Here, again, I did not mention the two who are still single. Jun Zhi-Wu, unmarried herself, also has a younger unmarried sister. Though Old Jun’s family are not fools, I would prefer my children to keep some distance from them. “Your father sent red envelopes to their weddings.”
“Well, I did.”
“You?”
“There are certain things my father has never taken care of directly.”
“Ah. I see. Jun Zhi-Wu, if I may speak freely?” When the young woman nodded, I continued. “There are those who say your father — forgive me — is not, right now, taking care of many things as he should.”
Jun Zhi-Wu stiffened.
“I apologize, but it must be said. There is danger in the current state of affairs. My husband, in his time, paid his association dues confident that all would run smoothly on the blocks under Old Jun’s administration. Now no merchant can have that confidence. If trouble begins, it can quickly spread. The situation must be taken in hand.”
“Chin Yong-Yun, take care in what you say.”
“I do understand. I know who I am speaking to. But Jun Zhi-Wu, trouble has begun already. Permit me to offer one illustration. A woman I know was tricked out of her money by a gang of female bandits on Mulberry Street. The same gang tried again to trick a different woman a few days later, though I was able to spoil their plan.” I said that modestly, as I am not a person who likes to try to impress others with my achievements. I could see, however, that Jun Zhi-Wu was carefully considering my words. I continued, “The reason I was present to upset the gang’s attempt at tricking the second woman is that the first woman had come to me for help.” I paused to look at her. “I am sure you understand the import of my words, so forgive me if I am stating the obvious. First, these bandits never should have been operating on Mulberry Street. Formerly, they would not have dared. Second, a person wronged on Mulberry Street should not have come to an elderly widow such as myself for help.”
Jun Zhi-Wu kept her gaze on me. “This woman — she did not consult my father?”
“No.”
“Her reason?”
“We did not discuss it. Perhaps she had believed no crime could happen to her on Mulberry Street. Once it did, the very fact that it had led her to believe that Old Jun could not offer her the help she needed.”
“But she thought you could?”
“She is a trusting old woman.” I did not want to call attention to Lan Li’s actual request for the help of my daughter, which, considering my daughter’s skills, was not an unreasonable approach to Lan Li’s difficulty. My daughter’s involvement, however, would have done nothing to solve the larger problem. “But this is exactly my point. Please note, Jun Zhi-Wu, that she also did not go to the police.”
I said no more on that subject, as the import of this was obvious. Although what had happened to Lan Li constituted a crime, many people in Chinatown do not feel comfortable consulting the authorities. This is a situation unlikely to change. As long as immigrants continue to arrive, distrusting those who enforce the law, there will be a necessity for people in positions like Old Jun’s.
I drank more tea to give my guest time to consider what I’d said. “So, Jun Zhi-Wu, you see the situation. Trouble has already come to Mulberry Street. At least this one victim found nowhere to turn but to me. I have been able to stop the crime from occurring a second time, but I cannot spend my life on Mulberry Street, fending off bandits. Also, I am not able to retrieve the money the first woman has lost.”
Jun Zhi-Wu sat sipping tea for some time. I poured out more (she tapped her finger again), then I sent for another pot.
“I do understand what you are saying,” she finally told me.
I nodded. “Jun Zhi-Wu, I admire the filial spirit with which you defer to your father. He has been an invaluable man in this community for many years. As his eldest child you have naturally assumed some duties, such as sending out the red envelopes. No doubt you are useful to your father in other ways also. I believe it is now time for you to take a greater role. Your father has been respected, in fact greatly esteemed. You do not want that respect to diminish. You do not want people to begin to whisper behind his back that he has become a fool.”