Houston, Chinatown

I could hear the shouts of foreign languages from three feet away. The smell of black pepper, ginger, and garlic drifted through the air. Steam billowed out from the kitchens of a nearby restaurant. Winston Zhou raced by where I was sitting behind a booth, chasing down one of the alley cats that liked to wander around. A yowl and a happy shriek sounded. Winston ran by with a large gray tabby cat in his arms.

Mama was next to me, barking in broken English at the customer who dared to invoke her wrath. She handed him the bag of groceries with a glare.

“Go find your sister June!” She didn’t look at me as she began to rearrange the vegetables on display.

I groaned and looked away from the comic book in front of me. June was probably in the back playing with the neighborhood dogs. Dad waved from his spot behind the medicine counter. He was weighing turmeric for the slouching elderly man seated before him.

June smiled when she saw me, her missing teeth showing through the grin. There was a dog next to her, its fur golden and shining.

“Junebug, what are you doing? You know that the Chuangs will be looking for their dog!” I scolded her, slapping her arm lightly.

June sighed and lingered against the back steps. “It’s not my fault their dog doesn’t like them.”

June was a child born during the Year of the Rat, six years younger than me, and was in fifth grade. She was everything, skipping two grades in math, being a whiz in the kitchen, and then there was me. I had quit taking Chinese after school to focus on my flute, which I reached All-State for three years in a row starting freshman year of high school. I was in pre-calculus, standard for a senior. She had the ability to manipulate both adults and children her age into believing that whatever she did was okay.

“Let him go and go back to the apartment upstairs. Keep doing your homework. I know it’s boring, but Mama wants you to have good grades.” I leaned down and shook Goldie awake. He barked once. I gently took his collar and led him down the alleyway, to where the houses were lined up in neat rows outside Chinatown. Tatiana Chuang was waiting for him in front of her two-story home. The dog scampered to her.

June was nowhere to be seen when I walked back. Mama swung the glass door shut, locking it. The rest of the day’s groceries were piled behind her. Dad was sweeping the floor.

“Did you finish setting up for tomorrow?” I asked her. She nodded.

Tomorrow was Chinese New Year, the time of the year when tourists would swarm Chinatown. That was why the booths around ours were a flurry of red decorations, golden packages, and little trinkets. It was the most lucrative few weeks we had. Around the fifth of February every year was the one time I would be freed from my parents, free to go wander around Houston with my friends. Of course, I only had friends who lived here, so there was no point in leaving Chinatown.

I resented my white classmates who talked about shopping and going to visit family over the weekend. Today was Friday, but I had nothing to do but be with my family. They showed off their designer bags and clothes when we started school on Monday, and I had nothing, just something my parents had pulled out of the bargain bins at a department store. I disliked when they talked to one another about their new car when my entire family rarely even used our beat-up secondhand minivan. It was irritating that they had everything in life while I didn’t. But it was disheartening when all I could do was study and pray to get into a good college, when they could pay their way into a university.

I walked upstairs. June was asleep on the couch, her homework long forgotten. I pulled a blanket over her. The pages in her book wrinkled as she rolled over. I dislodged her fingers from her pen and put it into a pencil bag. Her book report was finished, but a little messy, so I pulled her homework folder out from beneath her head. I plucked out the book from behind her head and placed it on the small coffee table. I unzipped her backpack. I put in her homework folder, pencil bag, and book.

Mama came up behind me. She began chopping up vegetables for dinner. Dad remained downstairs to set up for tomorrow.

“Are you alright?” Mama looked over at me while she poured soy sauce into the pan.

“I’m fine.” I lied. I hated being at home when I didn’t have to and I’d probably be forced to help out while caught in the midmorning buzz.

“Have you eaten yet?” Mama was humming incoherently.

“Yeah, I had something to eat. I’m going to sleep.” I said, making sure to gesture at the takeout boxes from Chipotle. Her eyes flickered. She was either about to explode into a torrent of anger or she would ignore what I’d done.

“Good night. We need you to be ready to help us tomorrow.” Mama began to plate the food she’d made because my parents had late shifts.

“Yes, of course.”

Morning greeted me with the smell of steamed buns. I dressed in the mandatory uniform for all dancers at the festival, pulling on gray-blue felt sneakers. I grabbed a granola bar from the table and made my way downstairs while eating it. Dad was selling paper lanterns to a group of blond students. They were chattering about the appearance Lilith Holloway was making today here. She was a world-class model who had her roots here, in Houston, deep in the heart of Chinatown.

“Rachael! We’re over here!”

I turned when I heard my name being yelled. It was Louise Cho and her siblings. They were wearing the same golden pants and red tunic-tops inlaid with golden thread. Tommy and Henry smiled at me when I walked up to them. She tucked her hair into a bun.

“Where is the lion?” I asked.

Louise pointed. The lion was sitting on top of Mr. Chuang’s apples, its jaw opened so it looked like it was eating the apples.

“It was little Tatiana Chuang’s idea to market the apples this way. Quite clever of her, if you ask me.” Henry murmured.

I nodded in agreement.

“Now let’s go get it.” Tommy glanced over my shoulder at Louise.

Tommy and Henry lifted the lion off the display. Louise grabbed the extra apples that slipped away. I held the display case and placed it down after we took away the case. Tatiana was watching us.

“I’ll tell Dad the lion can’t show off our apples anymore. Bye, guys!” Tatiana bubbled.

“Bye, Tatiana.” I waved.

We ducked under the giant lion and made our way through the crowd of people to reach the parade procession. Louise was guiding us because she had the best eyesight.

The parade began wandering down the three miles we had planned out. Loud clangs of cymbals being crashed together and drums being beat began to echo throughout Chinatown. The tourists surrounding us cheered. I sighed when Louise began to move. Henry kept his arms extended behind her.

Tommy cheered when he heard the first firecrackers being set off. We shimmied and danced with the enormous green, pink, and white dragon next to us. I had requested to be in the lion dance, even if my back ached and my arms hurt, because this was the one time I would be away from my parents.

Louise inched towards the children holding out small pocket change. The lion collected money in its mouth, but I had sewed a trash bag beneath it so we wouldn’t have to stuff the dollars in our pockets when we should have been moving. Louise let out a roar and the little girl in front of her giggled, inserting some money. We counted this money after the parade and split as evenly as we could.

It was four hours later and I had changed into my normal clothes. I walked to where June was slouched in front of the booth. Daffodils and lilies were spread in front of her. Golden packets filled with peanuts and cinnamon candy were lined up beside the flowers.

“Oh my God, Rachael! You’re soaked! And sweaty.” June’s chocolate brown eyes widened.

“Yeah, I’m going to take a shower and I’ll be right down to help you. Maybe you can go with Tatiana to eat something when I come back.” I put a twenty dollar bill down.

“Can I have this?” June gripped the crisp dollar.

“You can, but I expect a nice gift.” I smiled slightly.

“Okay!” June smiled. The next customer was greeted by her beam.

“Rachael, is that you?” Dad asked from behind the counter.

“Yes, it’s me. How much money did we make today?” I began walking to the back. The sweat of my back had run everywhere.

“We didn’t count yet, but this holiday we’ve made lots of money.” Dad angled his head upstairs.

“Is Mama selling red bean cakes?”

He nodded. I knew she was. She had a friend who sold street food on the next block and Mama’s cakes were famous. People came from all over Texas to sample her delicacies.

I scrambled upstairs and showered. When I came back down the stairs, the midafternoon buzz had dulled. Most of the tourists had left, only the ones wanting to eat lunch here remained. Mom was in the store, lugging a giant lockbox with her. Elizabeth Hou had probably taken away everything she’d made, so all that remained was Mama’s.

“Rachael, hello. Guess what?” Mama’s eyes were uncharacteristically bright.

“What?”

“We made at least two hundred dollars just selling my baked goods!” Mama screamed. June ran inside.

“Are you guys okay?” June’s eyes darted between Mama and I, thinking that we’d argued.

“Everything is fine, go back out there.” Dad walked her out, making sure that she was outside before he came back inside.

“I made one hundred and twenty five today doing the Lion Dance!” I held out my stuffed wallet.

“Good, now go help out June.” Mama smiled tiredly.

When I walked out, the Sun greeted my face. Sudden warmth brushed through me. I looked at June, who was playing video games on her phone.

I knew then that my resentment of the white girls in my grade was pointless. I had my family and my friends in one place. My parents loved us and one another. Life was golden and good.