Dead Man's Gold and Other Stories Read Online Free PDF Page B

handing her the pendant. “Rub this jade over your scar every day. You, your mother and I, we have all suffered enough.”
    When Blossom took the jade, she was astounded to feel its warmth. The stone seemed to glow with new luster. Holding it to her face, she felt her cheek tingle.
    Gradually her scar dissolved and she returned to the New World with Willow’s blessings. In time, she married and gave birth to many children.
    As for Willow, she worked contentedly at her guesthouse for the rest of her life, knowing she had a daughter in Blossom. And it was one of Blossom’s grandchildren, a woman named Jade, who donated the pendant to the Chinatown museum. It sits in a glass case by a window, where visitors marvel at how natural light changes the look of the stone from hour to hour.
    Blossom’s granddaughter left special instructions for the care of the pendant. Once a month, the stone is removed from the glass case. Under the watchful eyes
of security guards, it is passed by hand from one visitor to another.
    And as they grip it in their palms or press it to their cheeks, smiles fill their faces.

FIVE Seawall Sightings
    IN 1975, CITIZENS hardly noticed when bulldozers demolished the Immigration Building, known to the old-timer Chinese as Pig Pen. Its barred windows and high walls occupied downtown land adjacent to a seaside park, the harbor and railway lines. Over the years, thousands of Chinese immigrants had landed and undergone humiliating inspections there, until the gateway for newcomers shifted to the airport.
    One foggy evening, shortly after the fall of Pig Pen, a cyclist raced along the nearby seawall, dodging puddles left by heavy rains. He leaned into a curve and inadvertently churned up a spray of water that drenched two Chinese pedestrians. He wheeled around to apologize, but to his surprise, nobody was there. He rode for a distance in both directions but didn’t spot a soul. They couldn’t have clambered up the muddy cliffs because of their formal dress — she in a long dress, he in a dark suit and polished shoes.

    On another day, a retired businessman took a late afternoon stroll after a fierce windstorm. A loosened shoelace stopped him at a park bench, where he watched two young Chinese stroll by arm in arm — she in an evening gown and he in a formal tuxedo. The businessman preferred solitary walks, so he let them swing around the bend before following. On reaching the same corner, he saw a huge tree blocking the way. It had crashed down during the storm. On one side of the path rose a steep cliff; on the other was deep water. But the young couple had vanished.
    Months later, the businessman’s granddaughter went to the federal archives in the nations capital to research the family’s history. She spent weeks searching through boxes of records from the Department of Immigration. One afternoon, she flipped open a thick file marked “Yung, Gim-lan — Attempted Illegal Entry.” Little did she know that this folder, yellowed and flaking after fifty years, contained the clues to her grandfather’s sighting that afternoon.
    * * *
    Choi Jee-yun was the only daughter of a wealthy merchant in Hong Kong. Although he had wanted a son, in 1912 China it was considered progressive to treat girls equal to boys. It was also viewed as modern to adopt Western ideas, so when she grew older, he let her ride an imported bicycle at home and attend a missionary school for girls. Jee-yun treasured going to classes, for her girl cousins were not allowed to attend school and never left the family compound.
    Jee-yun scored high marks and the teachers encouraged her to advance to college for more education. Her father worried about the male students in those classes, but his reputation as a forward-thinking businessman was at stake, so he let her enroll. Secretly, he instructed a servant to watch her every move.
    The servant brought back disturbing news. A young man named Yen