me?” Mari felt the earth shift under her.
“I saw you with him —the waiguoren. He had his arm around you, Mari. You were out with some foreigner and let Chu Chu get taken!”
Was Max’s arm around her when he walked her to the door? Mari couldn’t remember. If it was, she sure hadn’t known it. But of all things for Bolin to see, nothing could be worse. He had a serious dislike for the relationships that local girls forged with foreigners, feeling as if they were selling their souls—their heritages—for a sum.
“It’s not like that, Bolin. He was with me when I went to the shed to check on Chu Chu, and I was—”
“See! Why did you take him to the shed? What were you going to do there?” He pointed his finger in her face, and Mari saw rage. She’d never been afraid of Bolin before, but now—this was a new side of him.
“Bolin, please calm down. You aren’t being rational. He’s just a customer—someone wanting a guide to help him get all the details so he can write a story about China. I swear.” She pleaded with him now, begging him to hear the truth through his haze of anger.
Bolin took some deep breaths, then put his hand to his head. He lay back down and turned to face the back of the couch. He was shutting down again. “My head hurts. I need my pills. Please.”
Mari got up, grabbed her backpack, and left the apartment. They hadn’t put together a plan. She didn’t know how they’d pay their rent, and it was due in two weeks. But her husband’s pills were more important than the roof over their head. He obviously cared for nothing other than getting his fix.
For a second, she thought about calling her parents. They’d do what they could, but Mari knew their life was a struggle, too. She would not add to it. She’d just have to figure it all out herself, just like she’d been doing for months.
Three hours later, she’d had no luck scoring any street drugs for Bolin. In her defense—not that anyone was accusing her, but she did feel guilty—before she’d hit the streets, she’d called the doctor, and he’d refused to refill Bolin’s prescription for more pain pills. He insisted that she get Bolin to see him so he could be re-evaluated.
Mari knew from the doctor’s tone that if she pushed him, he’d declare Bolin an addict. Then where would they be? The doctor had the authority to have her husband committed, or even jailed if he felt it was warranted!
She turned the corner, tired but anxious to see if An Ni was there. From her days on the street as a child, she remembered that if she didn’t make her quota of coins, many nights she was forced to keep begging late into the early morning hours, hitting up the patrons leaving bars and parties, encouraged to pull at their drunken heart strings.
She strained to see, but as she got closer, it was obvious An Ni wasn’t there. Mari wished she could get the girl out of her mind. She had enough going on and enough stress. She didn’t need to be thinking about a little street urchin, but she just couldn’t help it. She’d been drawn to her and couldn’t stop wondering about her. She stopped at the exact place that she’d talked to An Ni, hoping her waiting would make her appear.
Two boys stepped out of a dark shop entrance and Mari jumped.
“What do you want?” The biggest one asked, a dark scowl on his face.
Mari stared at him, wondering if he was a part of An Ni’s gang of beggars. When he shrugged sarcastically at her, she almost laughed at his forced bravado. But she wouldn’t hurt his pride—she could sympathize too much.
“I’ve seen a little girl here before,” Mari said. “Her name is An Ni. Do you know her?”
She could tell by the sudden, quickly masked surprise on his face and by the shuffling away of the younger boy that they did indeed know An Ni. Yet the bigger one shook his head, denying it.
“Listen, I know you don’t want to tell me. But can you just say if she is okay or not?” Mari opened
“I saw you with him —the waiguoren. He had his arm around you, Mari. You were out with some foreigner and let Chu Chu get taken!”
Was Max’s arm around her when he walked her to the door? Mari couldn’t remember. If it was, she sure hadn’t known it. But of all things for Bolin to see, nothing could be worse. He had a serious dislike for the relationships that local girls forged with foreigners, feeling as if they were selling their souls—their heritages—for a sum.
“It’s not like that, Bolin. He was with me when I went to the shed to check on Chu Chu, and I was—”
“See! Why did you take him to the shed? What were you going to do there?” He pointed his finger in her face, and Mari saw rage. She’d never been afraid of Bolin before, but now—this was a new side of him.
“Bolin, please calm down. You aren’t being rational. He’s just a customer—someone wanting a guide to help him get all the details so he can write a story about China. I swear.” She pleaded with him now, begging him to hear the truth through his haze of anger.
Bolin took some deep breaths, then put his hand to his head. He lay back down and turned to face the back of the couch. He was shutting down again. “My head hurts. I need my pills. Please.”
Mari got up, grabbed her backpack, and left the apartment. They hadn’t put together a plan. She didn’t know how they’d pay their rent, and it was due in two weeks. But her husband’s pills were more important than the roof over their head. He obviously cared for nothing other than getting his fix.
For a second, she thought about calling her parents. They’d do what they could, but Mari knew their life was a struggle, too. She would not add to it. She’d just have to figure it all out herself, just like she’d been doing for months.
Three hours later, she’d had no luck scoring any street drugs for Bolin. In her defense—not that anyone was accusing her, but she did feel guilty—before she’d hit the streets, she’d called the doctor, and he’d refused to refill Bolin’s prescription for more pain pills. He insisted that she get Bolin to see him so he could be re-evaluated.
Mari knew from the doctor’s tone that if she pushed him, he’d declare Bolin an addict. Then where would they be? The doctor had the authority to have her husband committed, or even jailed if he felt it was warranted!
She turned the corner, tired but anxious to see if An Ni was there. From her days on the street as a child, she remembered that if she didn’t make her quota of coins, many nights she was forced to keep begging late into the early morning hours, hitting up the patrons leaving bars and parties, encouraged to pull at their drunken heart strings.
She strained to see, but as she got closer, it was obvious An Ni wasn’t there. Mari wished she could get the girl out of her mind. She had enough going on and enough stress. She didn’t need to be thinking about a little street urchin, but she just couldn’t help it. She’d been drawn to her and couldn’t stop wondering about her. She stopped at the exact place that she’d talked to An Ni, hoping her waiting would make her appear.
Two boys stepped out of a dark shop entrance and Mari jumped.
“What do you want?” The biggest one asked, a dark scowl on his face.
Mari stared at him, wondering if he was a part of An Ni’s gang of beggars. When he shrugged sarcastically at her, she almost laughed at his forced bravado. But she wouldn’t hurt his pride—she could sympathize too much.
“I’ve seen a little girl here before,” Mari said. “Her name is An Ni. Do you know her?”
She could tell by the sudden, quickly masked surprise on his face and by the shuffling away of the younger boy that they did indeed know An Ni. Yet the bigger one shook his head, denying it.
“Listen, I know you don’t want to tell me. But can you just say if she is okay or not?” Mari opened
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