Wei Wei Who I See Some Days [Chinatown]

by Aileen Ma

I’ve seen her. I’ve talked to her. I’ve heard her cry out at night. She’s young. And too good for her husband. But she’s got no other way. Or at least, so she says. And there’s one smart lady. She could have been a teacher, or a doctor, or…anything but his wife.

Sometimes I meet her in the elevator and walk with her in the mornings. She always holds a pale blue plastic basket in hand to go to the market, and I always with my backpack full of books to go to school. We’re an unlikely pair, if ever. But people sometimes think we are sisters. Sometimes. And in a way, I wish we were. If we were, maybe she wouldn’t always look so sad. Under and around and inside her beautiful dark brown eyes, the sadness is everywhere. You can’t escape from it.

From the day she moved in I knew she was pretty, but now, it’s a different kind of beauty. Her eyes scream the story that she is forced to keep silent every day. Her light purple brocade sweater, far too old-looking for her age lays heavy on her shoulders, concealing her thin pale arms, bruised and torn and scarred from all that she’s been through. Her black hair frames her tragic and poignant face in waves.

I ask her how things are going. She says that she is happy because her husband says he will buy her flowers and take her out to dinner, again. I nod and say that I am happy for her. She holds her head up high on her shoulders stares straight ahead and walks with me confidently, like a soldier. She doesn’t tell me about the pain. Not today. She squeezes my hand tightly. I understand. But I want...to become like her someday. I want to be beautiful like her someday. But I don’t tell her this. It will break her heart. Her beautiful beautiful heart.

Sometimes when I hear her in the night, I wonder why. Why is it her Lord? I know you love her. And I know too, that she loves you above all else. She is the embodiment of grace. But I—I just can’t comprehend why she insists on staying with her husband—I know you love him too, but…it would be really hard to touch the heart of a brute like that. It’s not that I don’t believe in miracles, it’s just that…

I wonder if anyone hears her. And I wonder why no one does anything. And I wonder if I did anything, would it make it better, would it be worse. Would he kill her? I feel worthless. Like a coward. I wonder. I wonder why. Maybe someday we could all run away. To somewhere safe. We could run away from everything. Until then I’ll pray. Wei Wei. It means…the slightness of pale blue. It means… strength. From the most breathtaking love ever.


(previously posted in the January archives)