By Amanda Pryce
Love U No More
The Only Ones
China Doll in a Tutu
By Christine Stoddard
Editor's Note: This is an excerpt from a draft of a longer story entitled "China Doll in a Tutu."
America. Four gleaming English syllables. Say it once and you know it is a place full of hope and dreams. Say it twice and you can almost see the Statue of Liberty towering above you. Say it a third time and you know you’re there. But this is not a Mary Antin novel. I am not a complete patriotic convert. Injustice exists everywhere, even in the land of red, white, and blue. I came to the U.S. with fairy tale expectations and inevitably experienced my treasure chest of disappointments.
Father had saved his yuan since the day my eldest sister, Ping, was brought into this world. This was forty-seven summers ago now, which may seem like ancient history in a country where everything happens finger-snap fast. You with your new books and new films and new fashions bombarding you day in and day out, whereas I grew up in a time and place where vendors' shouting in the marketplace was the only form of advertisement I ever knew.
But that would change before I could understand how or why. Finally the day the family had been waiting for pounced upon us with the stealth of a zodiac tiger: we had enough yuan to board a ship to America.