My feet must have been healing slightly faster than hers, and I felt a shiver of disappointment that we wouldn’t be able to explore as much as we—I--would have liked.
“We’ll go slow,” I said. “We don’t have to see everything this time—”
“—because we’ll come here every year for the rest of our lives.” Snow Flower finished for me, and then she squeezed my hand.
What a sight we must have been: two old sames on their first excursion, trying to walk on remembered feet with only exhilaration to keep them from falling, and an older woman dressed in a gaudy outfit yelling at them, “Stop that bad behavior, or we’ll go home right now!” Fortunately, we didn’t have far to go. Snow Flower pulled me into a stall that sold embroidery necessities.
“We are two girls in our daughter days,” Snow Flower said, as her eyes scanned the rainbow of threads. “Until we marry out, we will be in the women’s chamber, visiting together, embroidering together, whispering together. If we buy carefully, we will have memories we can make together for many years.”
In the embroidery stall we were of the same mind. We liked the same colors, but we also chose a few that we agreed did not speak to our hearts but would be good nevertheless to create the detail of a leaf or the shadow of a flower. We handed over our cash and went back to the palanquin with our purchases in hand. Once we were back inside, Snow Flower implored Madame Wang for one more treat. “Auntie, please take us to the taro man. Please, Auntie, please!” Assuming that Snow Flower was using this honorific to soften Madame Wang’s stern demeanor, and once again emboldened by my laotong‘s daring, I joined in. “Please, Auntie, please!” Madame Wang could not say no with a girl on either side of her pulling on a sleeve, each begging for another extravagance as only a first son might do.
She finally gave in with warnings that this sort of thing could not happen again. “I am just a poor widow, and spending my money on two useless branches will lower my esteem in the county. Do you want to send me into poverty? Do you want me to die alone?” She said all of this in her usual abrupt manner, but actually everything was ready for us when we reached the stand. A short table had been set up, with three small barrels for seats.
The proprietor brought out a live chicken and held it up. “I always select the best for you, Madame Wang,” Old Man Zuo said. A few minutes later, he carried out a special pot heated by coals in a bottom compartment. Broth, ginger, scallions, and the cut-up chicken we’d seen just moments before bubbled inside the bowl. A dipping sauce of chopped ginger, garlic, scallions, and hot oil was also set on the table. A platter of fresh pea greens sauteed with whole garlic cloves rounded out the meal. We ate with relish, fishing for delectable pieces of chicken with our chopsticks, chewing happily, and spitting our bones on the ground. But as wonderful as all this was, I still kept room for the taro dish that Snow Flower had mentioned earlier. Everything she said about it was true—the way the hot sugar crackled as it hit the water, the irresistible crunch and softness in my mouth.
As I did at home, I picked up the teapot and poured tea for the three of us. When I set the pot back down, I heard Snow Flower suck in air reprovingly. I had done something wrong again, but I didn’t know what. She put her hand over mine and guided it to the teapot, so that together we could turn it so the spout no longer pointed at Madame Wang.
“It’s rude to aim the spout at anyone,” Snow Flower said mildly.
I should have felt ashamed. Instead, I felt only admiration for my laotong‘s upbringing.
The bearers were asleep under the palanquin’s poles when we returned, but Madame Wang’s clapping and her loud voice roused them and soon we were on our way home. For the return trip, Madame Wang let the two of us sit together, even though this upset the weight balance in the palanquin and made it harder for the bearers. I think back and see that we were so young—just two little girls giggling at nothing, sorting our embroidery thread, holding hands, sneaking peeks out the curtain when Madame Wang dozed off, and watching the world go past the window. So involved were we that this time neither of us felt the movement sickness brought about by the bearers jogging and jostling over the bumpy road.
This was our first trip to Shexia and the Temple of Gupo. Madame Wang took us back the next year, and we made our first offerings in the temple. She would escort us there almost every year until our daughter days were over. Once Snow Flower and I married out, we met in Shexia each year if circumstances allowed, always making offerings in the temple so that we might have sons, always visiting the thread merchant so we could continue with our projects in similar color schemes, always reliving the details of our first visit, and always stopping to have Old Man Zuo’s caramelized taro at the end of the day.
We reached Puwei at dusk. On that day I had made more than just a friend outside my natal family. I had signed a contract to be old sames with another girl. I didn’t want the day to end, but I knew it would as soon as we reached my house. I imagined myself being dropped off, then watching as the bearers carried Snow Flower down the alley, with just her fingers daring to sneak under the flapping curtain to wave a final goodbye before she disappeared around the corner. Then I learned my happiness was not yet over.
We stopped and I got out. Madame Wang told Snow Flower to step out too. “Goodbye, girls. I will be back in a few days to retrieve Snow Flower.” She leaned out of the palanquin, pinched my old same’s cheeks, and added, “Be good. Don’t complain. Learn through your eyes and ears. Make your mother proud of you.”
How can I explain what I felt with just the two of us standing outside my family’s threshold? I was beyond happy, but I knew what waited inside. As much as I loved my family and our home, I knew Snow Flower was accustomed to something better. And she had not brought any clothes or toiletries with her.
Mama came out to greet us. She kissed me; then she put an arm around Snow Flower’s shoulders and guided her over the threshold into our home. While we were gone, Mama, Aunt, and Elder Sister had worked hard to tidy the main room. All trash had been removed, hanging clothes taken down, and dishes put away. Our hard-packed dirt floor had been swept and water sprinkled on it to tamp it down and make it cooler.
Snow Flower met everyone, even Elder Brother. When dinner was served, Snow Flower dipped her chopsticks first in her cup of tea to clean them, but other than this small gesture, which showed more refinement than anyone in my family had ever seen, she did her best to hide her feelings. But already my heart knew Snow Flower too well. She was putting a smiling face on a bad situation. To my eyes, she was clearly appalled by the way we lived.
It had been a long day and we were very tired. When it came time to go upstairs I had another sinking feeling, but the women in our household had been busy there as well. The bedclothes had been aired and all the clutter associated with our usual activities organized into orderly piles. Mama pointed out a bowl of fresh water for us to wash up, along with two sets of my clothes and one of Elder Sister’s—all freshly cleaned—for Snow Flower to wear while she was our guest. I let Snow Flower use the water bowl first, but she barely dabbed her fingers into it, suspicious, I think, that it was not pure enough. She held the sleeping garment I gave her away from her body with two fingers, scrutinizing it as though it might be a rotting fish instead of Elder Sister’s newest piece of clothing. She looked around, saw our eyes on her, and then, without a word, stripped and put on the garment. We climbed into bed. Tonight, and for all future nights when Snow Flower came to stay, Elder Sister would sleep with Beautiful Moon.