The Year of the Three Sisters Page 7

  I nod.

  Fan is sitting on the edge of my bed, still wearing her coat. Andee is standing in the doorway. “Should we get our pajamas on?” I ask.

  Fan’s eyes look far away. “I am a lucky girl,” she says. “Gong Gong lives a long time. When I was a baby, my mother says I cried a lot. Gong Gong carried me all day. That is the only way I can stop crying. When I was bigger, he played little games with me, like hiding a walnut in one hand, and I guess which hand. When I find the walnut, he cracks it open for me so I can eat the inside.” Fan stands up. “Gong Gong likes to know everything. Whenever I see him, he says, ‘Fan Fan, tell me about your life in the city.’ And I tell him about the hotel and Little Monkey. He is never tired because he wants to know.” She takes a deep breath. “In my letter, I wrote everything to Gong Gong, so when we burn it, he will know about Florida and Disney World. He will know about Fenwick High School and volleyball and both of you and Ken and Kaylee. He will know about America.”

  “Do you want to go home?” I ask.

  “Tomorrow I can call Mama,” she says, closing her eyes. “Gong Gong is her father. Mama will know what to do.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A Decision

  Fan talks to her mother on the phone for a long time, and they decide that she should not return to China now. Her mother says that there is nothing to do, that Uncle and Auntie are looking after Po Po, and that Gong Gong would not like it if everybody disrupted everything for him. Her mother says they are planning to return to the countryside for Spring Festival if they can save enough money for the tickets. Maybe Fan can come back then and they can all go together.

  Andee, Fan, and I look at the calendar Fan gave us when she arrived. This year Spring Festival, which Americans call Chinese New Year, is in the middle of February. That means Fan has less than two more months in the United States.

  “Not very long,” Fan says. “When I go home, I cannot see Gong Gong.” Her eyes get teary. “I will see Po Po and Mama and Baba and Little Monkey.” She looks at us. “I am happy and sad.”

  Around seven, it starts snowing. At first it looks like flurries just blowing around, but the next time we look out, it’s sticking. “Maybe we’ll have a snow day again tomorrow,” Ken says, cupping his hands around his eyes.

  “In China, we have snowstorms and dust storms, but we do not cancel school.”

  “Good thing I don’t live in China,” Ken says, looking outside for the hundredth time.

  The TV says there is a winter storm warning in effect until tomorrow morning. They are expecting eight to ten inches by daybreak.

  We make a big bowl of popcorn and sit around the living room watching the weather channel. Mom and Dad are both home, and so are Ken and Kaylee and Andee and Fan. When the popcorn’s gone, we play with the small rice bags. Mom is pretty good at it, but Dad throws them too high and drops everything. Fan says her dad is not very good either. “I think this is not a father’s game,” she says.

  Ken says we all have to wear our pajamas inside out to make absolutely sure that we have a snow day. Andee and Fan and I think that’s crazy, but we do it anyway, just in case. We decide to spread sleeping bags on the floor of my room and sleep all in a row as if we’re camping.

  “This is funny,” Fan says.

  “Camping without a tent,” Andee says.

  I take a stack of picture books off my shelf, and we take turns reading them out loud. I pick The Little Engine That Could. Fan reads The Snowy Day. Andee picks Chrysanthemum. And then we are too tired to keep our eyes open.

  As soon as I wake up, I can tell the room is strangely bright. I look outside, and snow is covering everything. I go down to the computer, and sure enough, all Cincinnati schools have been canceled.

  Ken is out the door even before breakfast, shaking snow off the branches and throwing snowballs at the basketball hoop. We bundle up and head out.

  “I love the way snow transforms everything,” Andee says, looking up at the elm tree.

  “Me too,” I say. “And I love the way it smells.” We breathe deeply.

  “Everything is clean now,” Fan says.

  The snow is the heavy, wet kind, and we decide to see if we can build an igloo. I get a cardboard box from the basement to make snow bricks, and we stack them to make the walls, moving them closer together as the walls get higher. We leave a little opening at the top like a skylight. Then we build snow chairs inside and sit down to rest.

  “I can’t believe that you’re leaving so soon,” Andee says. “Do you think that in China you could go back to high school?”

  Fan shakes her head. “If you stop school in China, you cannot start again.”

  “Will you work at the hotel?”

  “I think so. Maybe now since I know English better, I can go to a short course so I can get a certificate and I can earn more money.”

  “If you could do whatever you wanted, what would you do?” Andee asks.

  “This is impossible,” Fan says, looking annoyed.

  Andee persists. “But if you could.”

  Fan’s face relaxes. “I want to be a teacher so I can teach poetry.”

  “I like to read poems,” Andee says. “But I don’t like to analyze them.” She takes a lick of snow. “I used to think I’d like to be a jeweler.” She pulls up the sleeve of her jacket to look at the seashell bracelet. “Or a fashion designer. But now I’m not sure.”

  “Me either,” I say. “I used to want to work with little kids. But ever since we got Kaylee, I’ve changed my mind.”

  Fan picks up a handful of snow, throws it up, and watches it land on our igloo floor. “We cannot know what will happen in our future,” she says.

  “But we can still plan,” Andee says. She looks at me. “Maybe we will go live in China.”

  “Then you can both visit me every day,” Fan says, smiling.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Choosing Gifts

  Two weeks before Fan is going to leave, Mom takes us shopping to buy gifts for Fan’s family and friends in China. Ken picks out a Lego set for Fan’s brother. He tells Fan that next time she comes to Cincinnati, she should bring him along. “I’m tired of so many sisters,” he says.

  For Fan’s parents, we get jackets that say Cincinnati across the back. And for her friends, she picks out T-shirts and baseball hats. The only person we don’t have a gift for is her grandma.

  “How about a scarf?” Mom suggests.

  “In the countryside she does not wear a scarf,” Fan says.

  “What does she like?” I ask.

  Fan considers. “She likes flowers. She grows them in the yard, and then she brings them into the house to put in a cup on the table.” Fan’s voice breaks. “I don’t know what she does now, without Gong Gong.”

  “When spring comes, the flowers will grow,” Mom says. “Maybe we can get her something for the yard.” Finally we decide on a pair of hand pruners with orange handles, and also a glass vase with specks of different colors like glitter all around.

  “Very beautiful,” Fan says, holding the vase up to catch the light.

  When we get home, Fan sits on the sofa with the history book, as usual. But she doesn’t open it. “I finished,” she says, handing me a list of twenty review questions. She has answered each one in her small, even handwriting. “The teacher will give me the test early.”

  “Do you want me to quiz you?” I ask.

  Fan considers. “No, I think I am ready.” She puts the book down on the coffee table, stands up, and stretches.

  “What do you want to do?” I ask.

  Fan looks at the clock. “I think we can cook dinner.”

  We go into the kitchen. “What should we make?” I ask.

  Fan opens the freezer, which is full of packages of meat and vegetables. “We can make my mother’s dumplings. Remember, you tasted them in my home.”

  My mouth waters just thinking about the chewy dough and salty meat. “What should we do first?”

  Fan gets o
ut the flour and dumps some into a bowl without measuring it. She adds a little water from the faucet. “We make the dough.” Fan shows me how to take little balls of dough and press them flat in the palm of my hand. Then we defrost a package of pork in the microwave and mix it with soy sauce, sesame oil, salt, pepper, and garlic. We put a little meat into the middle of each circle of dough and pinch it closed. We talk and laugh and fold dumplings for over an hour until we have more than one hundred.

  “I think we can invite Andee’s family,” Fan says, looking at the cookie sheets covered with dumplings.

  Andee and her parents love the dumplings. Her father eats so many that he says he will have to fast for the next three days.

  “But first let’s get ice cream,” my dad says, patting his stomach. We pile into two cars and head to Graeter’s.

  “I wish I could take ice cream back for my family,” Fan says. “We have ice cream in China, but Graeter’s is better.”

  “When they come to visit,” Andee says, “we can bring them to Graeter’s.”

  I think Fan will say that it is impossible for her family to come to America. But then she says, “Mama will choose vanilla.”

  “What about your brother?” Ken asks.

  “He likes chocolate,” she says.

  “Just like me,” Ken says, taking a big lick.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A Surprise Party

  Andee and I decide to have a surprise going-away dinner for Fan. We invite the volleyball team, Teacher Zhao, the Sylvesters, Mr. Freeman, and Camille.

  “What should we have?” Andee asks.

  “Fan still likes Chinese food more than American food.”

  “But she told me the other day that she’s going to miss American pizza when she goes home.”

  “Really? I thought she hated cheese,” I say.

  “Not anymore,” Andee says.

  We decide to have seaweed soup, pizza, salad, and ice cream sandwiches for dessert.

  A girl on the volleyball team invited Fan over for the afternoon, so Andee and I have time to get ready and work on our gift. Mom makes seaweed soup, and Andee’s mom is bringing the pizza. Andee and I set the table with red place mats and red napkins for Chinese New Year. Then we go into the den to work on the scrapbook we are making of Fan’s stay in Cincinnati. On the first page, we put a photo of Fan on the day she arrived with her big suitcase and her orange T-shirt.

  “Fan looks different now,” Andee says.

  I stare at the photo. Her face looks scared and tired. “You’re right. Now she looks . . . happier.”

  Above the photo, Andee draws a little globe with China on the front, and a tiny airplane. On page two, we put a photo of Andee’s family and mine.

  “Now what?” Andee asks.

  “Fenwick High,” I say.

  We have a page for the volleyball team and a page for CAT. Then we make a collage with pictures of some of the new foods Fan tried in the United States, including peanut butter ice cream. Andee makes a page with things she saved from Florida, like the menu at the Palm restaurant and the Disney World passes. We spend hours assembling the whole book. Each time we think we’re done, we think of things we forgot.

  “Let’s put in a scrap of fabric from the rice bags.”

  “And a picture of Jing.”

  Finally we wrap the scrapbook in blue and white tissue paper, since those are Fenwick’s colors, and tie it with a blue ribbon.

  Andee puts the gift in the middle of the table. “When Fan first got here, I was counting the days until her visit would be over.” Andee rubs her face. “And now I can’t believe she’s leaving early.”

  Everyone hides behind the sofa and the living room chairs, except Jing, who insists on sitting right in the middle of the floor. As soon as Fan opens the door, we jump out and yell, “SURPRISE!”

  At first, Fan doesn’t understand that the party is for her.

  “It’s called a surprise party,” I say.

  She starts to say something in English, switches to Chinese, and then goes back to English again. “I cannot talk in any language,” she says, laughing.

  Everyone loves the soup and the pizza. Camille brings a cake that says Zai jian and Goodbye in blue frosting. Fan takes pictures of everything.

  Jing follows Kaylee everywhere she goes.

  “I am the big sister,” Kaylee says, pointing to herself. She marches around the living room with Jing right behind her.

  Ms. Sylvester laughs. “Kaylee is the jie jie,” she says, looking at Fan to make sure that she pronounced it right.

  Fan gets lots of presents, including a Fenwick banner, new socks, and a Cincinnati mug. She saves the scrapbook for last, removing the wrapping paper carefully so it won’t tear. She looks at each page, smiling at the memories.

  “I will keep putting pages,” she says.

  “Until you come back—with your brother,” Ken says.

  After everyone else has gone home, Fan and Andee and I go up to my room. We play cards and listen to songs on the radio. Fan yawns. Mom comes in and takes a picture of the three of us. Then we get into our pajamas and brush our teeth. Nobody wants to sleep in the bed, so we curl up in sleeping bags on the floor.

  “What are you going to do when you get home?” Andee asks.

  “If we can pay for the tickets, we will take a long train trip to the countryside to see Po Po. It will be strange to be in the house without Gong Gong.” Fan looks up. “I will miss Gong Gong.”

  “It will be strange in my house without you,” Andee says softly.

  Fan falls asleep quickly, but Andee and I decide to go downstairs to make a goodbye card. We sit together in our den with the light shining on the table. “What should we put on the front?” Andee asks.

  “How about the three of us?” I say.

  We cut three figures out of paper scraps. One is tall with brown curly hair. Two are short with straight black hair. Underneath we write our names.

  “What about inside?” Andee asks.

  I think of the usual things people write in farewell cards, like We hope to see you soon or Thanks for coming, but nothing sounds right for Fan.

  “I think I remember how to write goodbye in Chinese,” Andee says, taking the card and writing the characters for zai jian above the picture. But the inside of the card is empty.

  “Fan likes poems,” I say.

  On scratch paper, we list everything we can think of that Fan did in America. Then we alternate writing the lines of a goodbye poem. When it’s done, I copy it over in my best handwriting, and Andee makes little drawings around the border. Then we put the card into an envelope, lick it shut, and write Jie Jie, sister, on the front. In parentheses I write: (To open on the plane.)

  Epilogue

  Three Sisters

  Jet lag and ice cream,

  Baby swings and Legos,

  Badminton and volleyball,

  We miss you, Fan.

  Hot sun and swirling leaves,

  Vocabulary words and rice bags,

  Snow days and dumplings,

  We miss you, Fan.

  Disney World and seashells,

  History and poetry,

  Fire and ashes,

  We miss you, Fan.

  Xie xie and thank you,

  Different and the same,

  Memories shared

  By sisters.

  Love,

  Anna and Andee

  Visit www.hmhco.com to find all of the books in the Anna Wang series.

  About the Author

  ANDREA CHENG believes in the power of books to show young people that they are not alone and that relationships can be both complex and rewarding, no matter differences of culture, personality, and situation.

  The author of picture books and middle grade and young adult novels, Andrea teaches English as a Second Language and enjoys daily walks and bike rides near her Ohio home. Visit www.andreacheng.com.

  About the Illustrator

  PATRICE BARTON earned a BFA
in studio art from the University of Texas in Austin. Since then she has illustrated numerous books for children, including Sweet Moon Baby, The Naming of Tishkin Silk, and Layla, Queen of Hearts. She lives in Austin with her husband and son. Visit www.patricebarton.com.