Flora and Mary giggled in response, because of course they weren’t gentlemen. Lily managed a smile.
“恭喜發財。* Thank you for allowing me the honor of speaking to you tonight. I have thought carefully about who Miss Chinatown is meant to be, and I humbly hope that you will find me best suited to the task. One of Miss Chinatown’s most important responsibilities is to reign over the New Year festivities as a representative of our community. The New Year festival is an ancient tradition dating back thousands of years, and yet it also celebrates the opportunity to make a new start in the New Year. Every year we honor our ancestors and thank them for their blessings, and every year we prepare our homes and families for the New Year by paying our debts and cleaning out the dust of the old year.
“We Chinese Americans have come to this new world of America to make new lives for ourselves and our families. Miss Chinatown should represent the best of both these traditions, ancient and modern. She should honor the strength of the Chinese family and Chinese tradition, but she should also embrace the best of the new American way of life.
“I am the daughter of hardworking immigrants from Canton. I was born right here in Kau Kam Shaan,* and I grew up working in my parents’ restaurant, where I saw how Chinese culture can be embraced by Americans. I am a daughter of the Old World as well as the New World, and I am ready to represent Chinatown as we move forward into the Year of the Sheep. I humbly present myself to you, honored judges, as an obedient and dutiful daughter of Chinatown. Thank you.”
Shirley curtsied, holding her skirt back delicately as if she were a princess, and Lily, Flora, and Mary clapped.
“I think that’s pretty good,” Flora said. “Very humble.”
“And virtuous,” Mary said.
Lily wasn’t sure she liked the speech. It felt like a fraud, as if Shirley were trying to flatter the judges into voting for her. “I like the curtsy at the end,” Lily said.
“But do you think it’s enough to win?” Shirley asked. “I didn’t sell enough raffle tickets.”
“You can still win,” Flora declared. “You’re so much prettier than the other girls. I saw the one who sold all those tickets to the Six Companies—she has a face like a cow.”
“Flora,” Mary admonished her. “That’s mean.”
“It’s true,” Flora insisted. “If Miss Chinatown is supposed to be a beauty queen, then Shirley should win.”
“What do you think, Lily?” Shirley asked. “You’re so quiet.”
There was a subtle challenge in Shirley’s tone, and Lily knew she was supposed to say something encouraging—that Shirley was the prettiest of all, that she would surely win or else those judges were all blind idiots. That was the price of admission to Shirley’s circle, and Lily had paid it before. It was easy enough to continue paying it, but she didn’t want to anymore. Lily realized she’d stopped wanting to pay her fee a long time ago. All she wanted right now was to get this dress rehearsal over with and go to the Telegraph Club with Kath.
“Miss Chinatown is about supporting Chinatown businesses,” Lily said finally. “The judges don’t care how pretty you are—the girls are all pretty enough. They only care how much money you’ll bring in. You know how it works.”
Flora gasped, and Mary frowned, but Shirley gave Lily a look of grudging respect.
38
When Lily got home after the dress rehearsal, Frankie was sick with a stomachache. As she waited for him to settle down and for her parents to go to bed, she watched the hands of the clock move toward and past the hour she usually went to meet Kath. By the time the flat was quiet, she knew Kath had left their meeting spot. She hoped Kath had gone ahead to the club to wait for her.
Outside, the streets were thick with fog, and she doubled her scarf around her neck. Every headlight, every streetlamp had a nimbus around it, an otherworldly glow, and the air itself seemed to press against Lily’s body. It clung to her like smoke, like a cloak, making her feel as if she must be invisible. It was as if the city itself were helping to hide her.
The Telegraph Club’s neon sign shivered in the distance. Music drifted down Broadway; disconnected laughter floated on the air. She was a ghost gliding through the streets. She was a fish sliding through dark waters. She was at the door of the club, and there was Mickey, who said, “Your friend’s already inside.”
“Thank you,” Lily said, and stepped through the doorway.
The club was warm and loud and smelled as it always did of perfume and cigarettes and beer. Lily heard Tommy crooning through the speakers. The bar area, which she had never walked through alone, was a long line of women turning to look at her. She felt as if she were on display, and part of her wanted to hide, but another part thrilled to it: this being seen, as if every person who gazed at her were creating her anew.