Nothing but the Truth by Chen Justina

Author:Chen, Justina [Chen, Justina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult, Juvenile Fiction / Social Issues / General, Romance, Humour, Contemporary, Juvenile Fiction / People & Places - United States - Asian American
ISBN: 9780316231831
Goodreads: 15789568
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2006-04-05T07:00:00+00:00

25 Walking Tall

I’m bedded down for the night on the musty-smelling, pull-out couch in Auntie Lu’s office. It’s not like I need to be well rested for tomorrow’s flight back home. In fact, it’ll be a godsend if I’m so tired that I fall asleep next to Mama on the plane so I don’t have to feel her disappointment pricking me. The sound of the sisters gossiping in the living room, catching up on which cousins back in Taiwan have gotten married, divorced and fat, is like the pattering of rain at home. Talk, talk, talk, laugh. Talk, talk, talk, aiyo!

I throw off the covers, drowning in the downpour of my thoughts. All I know is, I have to stay at math camp. I barely take three steps from the sofa bed, and my hip bumps into Auntie Lu’s desk, an enormous antique Chinese scholar’s table. Holding my bruised hip, I pace toward the door, and trip on a stack of books on the floor. I suppose most people would find Auntie Lu’s home office comfortable. But let me be the first to say, this room is a living feng shui hell. How can I think of a way out of my own mess when I can’t even walk through Auntie Lu’s?

I hop up and down, holding my throbbing big toe, and wiggle it gingerly before I put my weight back on it. I limp to the bed and groan, as unladylike a sound as you can make. And I realize, I am no little lady who has to wait for her fate.

Before I chicken out, I creep down the stairs and see the sisters on the couch, their heads bowed close together as one nods and the other speaks. I’m trembling so badly that I place a hand on the tansu chest to steady myself. If I thought running into a security guard was scary, it’s nothing compared to confronting Mama. I brush the hair out of my face and tuck the stray strands behind my ears. Seriously, I doubt I can do it, talk to Mama. Coward, I yell at myself even as I turn back up the stairs. And then, I see the lotus shoes, the ones with the plum blossoms, glowing silvery-purple under the special lights mounted over the tansu.

Plum blossoms blooming right now in adversity.

My big toe still hurts. I hobble toward the living room, unable to fathom how my great-great-grandmother with her two crippled feet could have walked anywhere, much less a couple miles from the train station to Mama’s old home. Step, step, step.

I look down at my big feet that are three times the size of hers. My big feet that could crush any China Doll shoe.

My big feet that aren’t maimed or bound.

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