The Pink Chinese-Style Dress

Translated…

Mrs. Peng’s house is right on my way of taking my son to the kindergarten, on my way to work. Every day at this time, she’d stand by her own front doors, watching all those who are coming and going, rushing to work.

The golden rays of the sun in the early mornings of the summers came shining through the alleys, hit my body at the precise angle, that day, I was, wearing a fitted pink Chinese-style dress as I walked by her door. Seeing my special outfit, Mrs. Peng was, stunned, then, she was, surprised, and, she was so happy, that her face lit up, like seeing someone delivering a bouquet of roses, placed it, on her plain front steps.

not my photo…

My eldest son was very active and naughty, as we headed out, my mother-in-law needed to take a long a long stick, to make him behave, but, how come, I’d never seen, Mrs. Peng, out with her own son? There was, never any children running in and out of her house, it’d always been, too quiet. Although she lived on the first floor, but, her house faced the ditches.

Before the land was developed, this place was a patch of rice paddies, she was a local who’d lived on the land with her siblings and sisters-in-law. She’s used to wearing that oversize t-shirt and slippers, walked around the shopping place of our community, and, when we’d met up from time to time, we’d offered one another a “hello”. As my younger child was born, I’d turned my focus back into family, and rarely passed by her doors. One day, the neighbors told me, that I will never bump into Mrs. Peng again. That she’d, given up on herself, and, given up that residence at the end of our street.

Until after so many years later, did I see her son show up every now and then.

not my photo still…

He wasn’t tall, and, from his back, I thought he was, any young man, after I’d said my hellos to him, I’d realized, that he was, a grown man, but, wandered about the alleys and streets of our community, not standing still, but, moving along, in a very slow pace. I’d not seen him carry on in conversation with others either, the regular hangout of his was the nearby Land Guardian’s Temple. He would stop his gazes, without a bit of emotion on his face, like he was, staying, in a world of NO emotions, quietly, existing.

Is he like that when he was younger? How, did Mrs. Peng face this sort of difficulties in relating to her own young?

As I’m no longer a working woman, dressing myself up every single day, I took my younger child with a handicap manual before school age, sought out all the interventions I possibly can, hoped, that he could be happy, to learn to talk. As I got on the bus, the bus twisted and turned, in and out of the street, filled with the golden rays of the sun; to the Dar-Le Garden in Jingshan to see the flowers, and to chase the butterflies; a lemon ice tea he had in his hand, the two of us, spent many afternoons, in the playground of the New Park.

Me and her, separated by a large street, one lived on the east side, the other, on the west side, she’d once, flashed me that genuine smile of hers, but, I just, couldn’t see what was hidden, behind her smiles. It was, a child, who doesn’t smile, nor act up that’s made her feel, that the days became, like that cloth with the colors faded with each and every wash, ruining the entire wash load, but, fishing it out, she is confronted, with the futures without the colors.

Every year as the seasons changed, I’d opened up that heavy wooden closet, and, patted on this pink Chinese-style dress of mine, although, I no longer fitted in it anymore.

So, the pink dress symbolized your younger years, and, it may also be a metaphor for that neighbor lady’s life too, perhaps, the neighbor lady was once, very happy, and felt blessed, until something happened to her, and we don’t know what exactly, had happened to this woman that the narrator bumps into on her way to work, but we can sense, that something AWFUL must’ve happened in her life, to make her change completely.