Page 8

“Father.” The woman handed him the handkerchief and explained rapidly in Russian. “I have no idea where she got this. Is this yours?”

Anyu looked at Isaac, hoping, willing him.

“Indeed it is.” The jeweler turned to her. “Greetings, young lady. I’m not sure where you got my handkerchief. I’m delighted that you returned it to me. Have we met?”

His Chinese was still the same, garbled and hard to understand, with a few Russian words slipping in; his voice was thick, metallic. Anyu asked, “Have you forgotten me? In Harbin? At the train station? I’m Anyu. I found your bag.”

For a long moment, he stared at her without a sign of recognition, then his face changed. “Of course, that’s you, young lady! Anyu? Anyu. From Harbin? At the train station. Yes. Of course. I remember you. It’s wonderful to see you. It has been a while.”

He remembered her!

“How long has it been? A year?”

Anyu beamed. “Nine months and two days.”

He smiled with an air of genuine happiness that gave her great assurance. “Good memory. Time went by fast. I’m delighted that we meet again. Here in Shanghai. Do you have a moment? Would you like to come in?”

“Isaac,” the other man with a bald head said and added something in a language she couldn’t understand.

Isaac looked conflicted, glancing at the glass counter and her. “Esther, you can handle the packing. Right, Esther? Uncle David, you don’t mind? I’d like to have a word with Anyu. Would you like to have some tea, Anyu? Do you like tea?”

“I like everything.”

“Delightful! Come with me.”

Anyu followed Isaac to a sitting area with two chairs at the end of the showroom. Behind her, Esther was grumbling, “Look, Uncle David. She’s dripping water everywhere.”

In the sitting area, Isaac pulled aside the curtain near a screen and revealed a small wooden door behind it. Smiling, he opened the door and gestured for her to enter.

Anyu stepped over the threshold and entered a dim narrow hallway crammed with cabinets. The air smelled of metal, acidity, and something pungent, a sharp contrast to the luminescent showroom packed with jewelry. She gripped her sack, trying not to crash into the wall.

Then she came to stand in front of a square table with six chairs in a small area that appeared to be a dining room; adjacent to it was the kitchen, with a coal stove.

Near the stove were two elderly women, one in a black dress, the other in a white dress, busy preparing food on the counter.

They had the same nose, same eyes, and same wrinkled skin.

Twins. They gave her a glance, mumbling something Anyu couldn’t catch.

Then she smelled something delicious—food. Her stomach growled.

“They’re my aunts, Aunt Hannah and Aunt Katya. Sit, sit.” Isaac gestured, rummaging in a cabinet near the table. After a while, he gave up and sat across from her. “I’m sorry, it looks like we’re out of tea.”

“That’s too bad. I’m thirsty,” Anyu said.

Isaac chuckled. “We’re having dinner soon. Perhaps you can join us. Would you like that?”

“Yes, I would.” She was hungry, too; her last meal had been a cob of corn on the train. “You have a nice shop, Mr. Mandelburg.”

“This is my uncle’s shop. He was very kind to let me join when I arrived last year.”

“Oh, you only came here last year? I thought you lived here when I met you in Harbin.”

“Oh no. I was living in Harbin then.”

“I’m confused. I thought you were from St. Petersburg?”

“Well, it’s a long story.” He had lived in many places across the world, he said.

He was born in a backwater shtetl in Crimea, then migrated to a town on a hill in Kyiv, later settled in Warsaw, and then found a home in a bright apartment in St. Petersburg, where he thrived.

But the Bolsheviks rebelled, and he was forced to flee.

He first sought refuge in a barn in Moscow, then a fishing village in Vladivostok, and finally, an inn’s cellar in Harbin.

“I lived there for two years until the city became unsafe again. Fortunately, we got in touch with my uncle, who’s been here for nine years, so I took the train to come here.

That was when I met you at the station.”

“I see. But you are a jeweler, aren’t you?”

“I am, and so was my father and my father’s father.

I was the master jeweler, the lead designer of my family before the revolution.

” He continued. He had had many dreams in his life but found only one profession to be his true calling: jeweler.

He had owned five stores and lost them all—one was ransacked by an angry mob, another set on fire by a jealous competitor, a third confiscated by the authorities, a fourth gone under, and the last he was forced to abandon after his colleagues were murdered in cold blood during the massacre that ended the tsar’s reign.

Anyu thought for a moment. “You’ve been through a lot. Do you like it here?”

“I do. So, Anyu, how long have you been in Shanghai?”

Esther and Uncle David passed by, holding stacks of boxes. They didn’t look in her direction, and Anyu noted, with surprise, that Esther walked with a limp.

“What? Oh.” Anyu turned to face him. “I arrived today.”

“Today. From Harbin?”

“Yes, by train.”

“How was your journey?”

“Fine.”

“If you don’t mind my inquiry, what brought you to Shanghai?”

Anyu looked at him and looked away.

“Perhaps you are here visiting your relatives?”

A youth entered the kitchen; he had blond hair and gray eyes.

He looked young, but the abundance of facial hair made him appear older.

Samuel, Isaac said. His son. The young man plopped down in the chair across from Anyu, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, glancing at her and then the sack in her lap.

“Isaac,” Uncle David, the man with a bald head, said as he came in and sat at the table. Behind him followed Esther. “After dinner, perhaps we can continue our discussion.”

“Yes, Uncle David.” Isaac nodded; his tone was deferential.

“Have you finished with the tea?” Esther asked. It felt crowded in the small space, and Anyu wondered if it was normal for families to have so many men.

“It’s my mistake. We are out of tea. I invited our friend to have dinner with us instead.” Isaac introduced her to his family—a friend he had made in northern China, whom he had hoped to see again, he said. “She’s here visiting her relatives.”

“No. I’m not here to visit my relatives. I don’t have relatives in Shanghai,” Anyu said.

Esther and Uncle David exchanged looks—looks of alarm, of worry.

“I see. Did you come here by yourself? Where are your parents?” Isaac asked.

“I don’t have parents.” For weeks, Anyu had avoided thinking about Mother, and now that Isaac asked, it felt final—she was one of thousands of unfortunate orphans in this country. She had no one to rely on and no place to go. Briefly, she told them of Mother and her life by the train station.

“You’re an orphan.” Isaac’s voice was soft.

“Mr. Mandelburg,” she said. “I was hoping I could work for you.”

“Work for me? How old are you?”

“I’m sixteen.”

“You look like you are twelve,” Esther said.

Anyu held her head up. “I don’t lie. I will be seventeen in the fall.”

“Fair enough. What can you do?” Isaac asked.

“I can draw.”

“Good. What else?”

Anyu shook her head.

“Uncle David, how would you like an extra hand in the showroom?” Isaac asked.

“It’s not necessary. Esther is doing a good job.”

“I see.” Isaac cleared his throat. “Anyu, you can stay with us for a few days if you haven’t found a place.”

“We don’t have enough room, Father,” Esther said.

Anyu glanced at Esther and then the other people at the table: Uncle David, the authority who had the final say, looked in her direction with a frown; the youth, Samuel, stared intently at her sack; and the two aunts glanced at her, whispering.

If she couldn’t stay here, where else would she go, then?

She was about to speak when Isaac stood up and asked to have a minute with Esther and Uncle David in the hallway.

The three left, talking in muffled voices.

Isaac’s voice was calm and steadfast, but Uncle David’s reply was sharp, and Esther sounded bewildered.

Anyu could hear them but couldn’t understand their language.

Anyu sat on the chair, her back stiff. She had been hot in the rickshaw, but now she felt cold with her leaden, damp coat, and there was water in her shoes, worming between her toes when she wiggled them.

She wished she could take off her waterlogged shoes and change and lie down for a nap—she was tired.

And hungry. She was so hungry she couldn’t focus.

“How much money do you have?” Samuel was leaning toward her; his Chinese was the best among all the Mandelburgs.

She lifted her head. “Why do you want to know?”

“I need ten dollars. Do you have ten dollars? I’ll give it back when I win.”

“Win what?”

“Forget it.” Samuel got up and left the table, ignoring his aunt’s call.

She only had nine dollars left after the trip. And even if she had more, she wouldn’t lend it to Samuel, a gambler.

Isaac returned, smiling; the other two were frowning.

“Here’s some good news that I’m happy to share, Anyu,” he said.

“We’ve had a discussion about a possible employment opportunity for you.

My uncle has agreed we could use some help at the counter.

You are Chinese, so you can communicate with the local customers and help them understand the jewelry before they make their purchase decisions. How does that sound to you?”

She smiled, elated. “This sounds wonderful.”

“We’ll provide you with food and lodging and ten pennies each month.”

The offer was more than generous, beyond anything she had dreamed. She would have all she needed, food and lodging. And money—she would earn her own money for the first time in her life. Thanks to the jeweler who had promised to look after her.

“Have you sold jewelry before?” Esther asked, frowning.

Anyu shook her head.

“Do you know anything about jewelry?”

“No.”