The Year of the Dog Read online

  Mrs. Piterassi also said that we could have a costume contest for Halloween. That was exciting. She said we should all wear our costumes and she would get some of the other teachers to judge who had the best costume.

  “What should my costume be?” I asked everyone. I spent a lot of time drawing myself in different costumes. I drew myself as a silver fairy, a princess dressed in velvet, an amethyst butterfly, and a greenfaced witch, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be any of them.

  No one helped me come up with more ideas. Lissy said I should go as a “Thing,” like her. That meant painting your face pasty green, putting on a shower cap, and wearing Dad’s doctor gown. She always went as a Thing.

  “No one knows what you are when you go like that,” I complained to her.

  “That’s why you should do it,” Lissy said. “You’ll be the only Thing in your class.”

  I wasn’t convinced. Being a Thing was not my idea of a good costume.

  Most people were buying their costumes from the store. We went, too, but I didn’t see anything I liked. I didn’t like the masks that came with the costumes; they were hard plastic with cheap colors and fake smiles. And you just tied the masks around your head with a rubber band. They didn’t look real. I realized that if I wanted a good costume, I’d have to make it myself. But how? And what would it be? I could cut two eyeholes in a sheet and go as a ghost, but that seemed boring. Besides, not only would Mom not like it if I cut holes in a sheet, but we didn’t have any plain white sheets. We had ivory ones with printed coral red flowers, and coffee-colored sheets with stripes, and canary yellow ones with floating balloons—but no plain white ones. What kind of ghost would have flowers printed on her? I kept walking around and around.

  Finally, when Ki-Ki said she was going to be the Wicked Witch of the West, I got an idea. I’d be a black cat! I could wear Lissy’s old black dance leotard and I could make cat ears and tape them onto a headband. I could even draw whiskers on my face with Mom’s makeup pencil.

  When I got home, I told Mom my idea. She agreed that it was a good one. We opened up Lissy’s old clothes drawer and found the black leotard. I tried it on and it fit! “But we have to buy you new stockings,” Mom said, holding up Lissy’s old ones. “These have holes and runs in them.”

  I couldn’t wait for Halloween after that. I made Ki-Ki and Lissy promise not to tell anyone what my costume was. I didn’t even tell Melody.

  “What are you going to be?” I asked Melody.

  “It’s a surprise,” she grinned and said. “What are YOU going to be?”

  I shook my head, too, and kept my lips tightly closed. It was SO hard to keep it a secret! I could feel it wanting to burst out of me like a popping balloon.

  On Halloween, Mrs. Piterassi let us change into our costumes. The girls went into the girls’ bathroom and the boys went into the boys’ room. I drew on my whiskers, colored my nose with the black makeup pencil, and wiggled into my new stockings and leotard. But when I looked down at my legs, they were the wrong color! Bad luck! Mom had bought me navy blue stockings instead of black ones by mistake!

  I didn’t know what to do. Should I take the stockings off? Then I’d be a black cat with pale legs. And I’d be cold. But now I was a black and blue cat. Whoever heard of a black and blue cat before? But without the stockings, it probably wouldn’t even look like a costume. I’d look like a ballet student with cat ears. I decided to leave the stockings on. If anyone asked, I’d just say I meant to be a black and blue cat.

  It was fun seeing everyone’s costumes. There were lots of monsters and ghosts—I was glad I hadn’t gone as a ghost. Sam Mercer was Santa Claus, and he had made his beard from notebook paper he cut into shreds. Another boy was a robot made from a box covered with tin foil. But the funniest one was Melody! She had cut a hole out of a laundry basket and put it around her waist. Then there were clothes filling the basket. “I’m a basket of laundry!” she told us.

  Everyone’s desks were laid out for a party. At each desk there was a cup of apple cider, an orange frosted cupcake with black and brown sprinkles on it, some candy corn, and an apple! Mrs. Piterassi was playing some creepy music. Some other teachers were sitting at the big table, ready to judge our costumes. We paraded around them before we sat down.

  When they announced the winners, Melody won first prize! Mrs. Piterassi gave her a blue ribbon and a huge lollipop with rainbow colors twisted into it. Sam Mercer got honorable mention and a bar of chocolate with a yellow ribbon on it. I didn’t win anything. The judges must have noticed my blue legs. Maybe if my legs had been black I might have won something.

  On the bus ride home, Melody let me lick her lollipop.

  “You’re so lucky,” I told her. “You won the blue ribbon, a lollipop, and you got to stand next to Sam Mercer.”

  “You’re lucky, too,” Melody said. “It’s OUR lucky year, remember?”

  “You’re the only one who won the ribbon,” I said, “so you’re the only lucky one.”

  I looked out the window. I felt like one of the early falling leaves, brown and dried up and turning to dust in the blustering wind.

  “I’m not lucky,” I told Melody. “I’m not lucky at all.”

  Chapter 26

  A Prize

  AFTER HALLOWEEN, WE TOOK DOWN THE JACK-o’-lantern picture and hung up pictures of pilgrims and horns of plenty. I drew a big turkey with purple and red feathers and Mrs. Piterassi put it on the bulletin board next to the calendar.

  “November, December…” Melody counted the months, “the year is almost over!”

  “I know,” I said sadly, “and I haven’t found myself or my talent. I guess I’ll have to wait until the next Year of the Dog.”

  But, the next morning, while we were all sitting in our seats, the loudspeaker crackled. It was a surprise announcement.

  “I would like to congratulate one of our students— Grace Lin,” Mr. Hargraves, the principal, announced through the loudspeaker.

  Everyone turned around and looked at me. What had I done?

  “Grace’s book, The Ugly Vegetables, has won fourth place in the National Written and Illustrated Awards Contest for Students. This is a great honor, especially since she was chosen out of more than 20,000 entries. Grace will receive $400 and a certificate for winning fourth place.”

  I couldn’t believe it! I felt like I had been tickled awake from a nap. Melody was bouncing up and down in her seat. The whole class was clapping. I had forgotten about the contest over the summer and now I had won fourth place!

  “Congratulations, Grace!” Mrs. Piterassi said. All my friends gathered around me, congratulating me. I couldn’t wait to go home to tell everyone.

  At home, Mom and Dad were just as excited as everyone else.

  “You said you’d cry if my book won a prize,” I reminded Mom.

  “Oh yes,” she said, and she hid her face in her hands and pretended to cry.

  Dad put his hands over his face and pretended too. Ki-Ki and I laughed. Lissy rolled her eyes. “Can we stop now?” she groaned. “It only won fourth place. It won’t get published.”

  “But it won $400!” Ki-Ki said. “You’re rich!”

  Suddenly, like the last piece of a puzzle fitting into place, I realized something. I was rich. And not only was I rich, I had won a prize. I had talent as an author and illustrator. I finally knew what I could do when I grew up—I could make books. When I grew up, I could have a whole shelf of books all written by me. I was lucky. Like a creamy chocolate in my mouth, a warm feeling melted through me. I smiled my biggest smile.

  “I found myself!” I told everyone. “I’m going to make books when I grow up.”

  “Yeah, right,” Lissy said. “You’ll change your mind.”

  “No, I won’t!” I insisted. “You’ll see.”

  “There’s lots of time to find out,” Dad said. “There’s no rush.”

  “Yes, there was,” I told him. “I had to figure it out before the Year of the Dog was over.” />
  “Oh!” Dad said, laughing. “Well, I’m sure all the dogs in the world are now satisfied.”

  Chapter 27

  American Holidays the Chinese Way

  ON TV, AFTER SOMEONE GETS RICH, EVERYTHING changes. They get servants and fancy clothes and big houses. After I got rich, none of these things happened. Mom said I’d have to get even richer for those things.

  But I didn’t mind, because I had figured out what I wanted to do when I grew up. And just in time. Snow fell from the sky like clumps of white rice—the holiday season was here!

  Thanksgiving and Christmas are two of the most important holidays in the United States. It took Lissy, Ki-Ki, and me a long time to show Mom and Dad how to celebrate them right.

  Every year for Thanksgiving we had to talk Mom into buying a turkey.

  “Why don’t I get a chicken?” Mom would say. “A turkey is too big.”

  “No!” we would all say in unison. “You HAVE to eat turkey on Thanksgiving.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “But you have to eat the leftovers. Dad and I don’t like turkey.”

  Then Mom would rummage through the frozen food section, trying to find the smallest turkey possible.

  Lissy tried to talk Mom into making mashed sweet potatoes, like they do on TV. Mom made them, but she didn’t put them in a bowl like Americans did. She molded them into small cakes and then decorated them with herbs. They were like marigold-colored cupcakes with parsley sprinkles. We couldn’t help but laugh when we saw them.

  “What?” Mom said. “Aren’t they prettier this way?”

  Thanksgiving dinner at our house was always like that. We always had a lot of food covering the whole table. But it was full of glassy rice noodles, stir-fried shrimp, crispy fried fish, meaty dumplings, tangy sweet and sour pork, thick egg drop soup, white rice, and a very small turkey. The turkey was never in the middle of the table, but always on the side, because Mom only made it because we said we had to have it.

  “The pilgrims didn’t eat like this at the first Thanksgiving,” Lissy said.

  “They probably never ate Chinese food ever!” I said.

  “Ah, but if they did,” Dad said, “I bet this is what they would’ve wanted for dinner.”

  Christmas was the same way. Everyone in our neighborhood hung up Christmas lights all over their houses and trees. We tried to get Dad to do the same. Dad hung the lights, but he didn’t spend too much time doing it. Without putting on his coat or boots, he ran outside and threw them on a bush.

  “Brr,” he said, stomping the snow from his bedroom slippers, “it’s cold out there.”

  So, of course, while everyone else’s lights were in nice arches and evenly spaced all over their trees and bushes, our lights looked like a blob with lightbulbs flashing frantically for help.

  “It looks more natural this way,” Dad said when we complained. “If a bush were ever to grow electric, rainbow-colored, blinking lights, I’m sure it would look more like our bush than anyone else’s.”

  And Mom hated buying a Christmas tree.

  “The poor tree,” Mom would say. “Do you know how many years it took for that tree to grow that big? And you want to cut it down just to decorate it for a couple of weeks? How about we just decorate my rubber tree plant? It is almost as big as that tree.”

  They didn’t understand at all!

  But they did get us Christmas presents. Chinese people usually don’t give gifts; they give lucky red envelopes of money. Mom said it was much more practical that way. But we told them that for Christmas we were supposed to get presents.

  “But it’s the same as if I give you money,” Mom would argue. “What’s the difference? I buy it for you or you buy it for yourself.”

  We just shook our heads.

  “Okay,” Mom said, “what do you want for Christmas?”

  Now, this was more like Christmas! Hmm… what did we want?

  Lissy wanted clothes. Now that she was almost a teenager, she wanted to be stylish—probably for boys. I thought clothes were the most boring gift ever. Ki-Ki wanted more toy ponies. Her friend Sandy Pan had 100 ponies. Ki-Ki only had four. She wanted to catch up with Sandy. I didn’t think Mom would buy her ninety-six ponies, though.

  “What about you, Pacy?” Mom asked.

  I thought hard. At first, I thought maybe I wanted some new paints and drawing paper. Ever since I decided I was going to write and draw books, I needed a lot of supplies. But, somehow, that didn’t seem special enough to be a Christmas gift. In books, Christmas gifts were always fancy toys or games. So, I thought about what kind of toy I wanted. At school we were reading about a pioneer girl. She had a doll with a bonnet and a cornflower blue calico apron. It had a rag body and a shiny clay head with painted blue eyes and black hair. They had called it a china doll. I decided I wanted one of those, so I could pretend I was a pioneer girl.

  “I want a china doll,” I told Mom. “You know the kind of dolls with the head made out of clay? I want one of those.”

  Mom nodded her head.

  On Christmas morning, we were all excited to get up. Even though we already knew what our presents were, it was fun running to go open them. Lissy got a new pair of jeans and the peacock green and blue striped sweater she had wanted. Ki-Ki got a lavender-colored toy pony with sparkling fake jewels on it. But I got a Chinese doll. It wasn’t anything at all like what the pioneer girl had. It was a Chinese woman with long black hair wearing a pink silk dress and carrying flowers. I was so disappointed.

  Mom came down to see us open our gifts.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “But I asked for a china doll,” I said. “You know, with the clay head.”

  “But it is a Chinese doll,” Mom said, “and her head is made out of porcelain. I even ordered it from China.”

  It took a little while to explain. Finally Mom said, “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted, but do you like the doll anyway?”

  I looked at the doll. She had a nice face. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t the same as the pioneer girl’s.

  “Oh well,” I said, “I guess I can pretend I’m a pioneer girl in China.”

  Chapter 28

  Here Comes Chinese New Year!

  THE ONE HOLIDAY MOM AND DAD DID KNOW how to celebrate was Chinese New Year. Sometimes we thought they celebrated it too well, especially when Mom made us clean.

  “Pacy, clean the mirrors,” Mom would say. “Lissy, vacuum the carpet. Ki-Ki, polish the furniture. Everything has to be clean for Chinese New Year!” And we would have to sweep and mop and brush and polish everything. We were glad when we were finished.

  After that, Mom and Dad took out their Chinese New Year decorations. Mom hung up a bright red sign with a black Chinese symbol on it upside down on our door.

  “It says ‘good luck,’” Mom told us. “Hanging it upside down means good luck has already come in.”

  Mom took us shopping for new clothes. “Everything has to be new for the New Year,” she told us. “Oh, and I have to cut your hair, too!”

  Mom always cut our hair as part of the New Year tradition. We had to cut it the day before New Year’s because it was bad luck to cut your hair on New Year’s Day. Mom had us sit on the high stool in the kitchen and put a big, white plastic cloth around our necks. Then she would wear her red and green plaid raincoat, take out her scissors, and cut our hair. Lissy wanted to get her hair cut at a fancy salon in the mall, but Mom said it was too expensive.

  “But I want it to look good,” Lissy pouted.

  “They cut it just the same,” Mom said.

  “No,” Lissy said. “A girl in my class says they cut her hair in layers.”

  “That’s American hair,” Mom said. “You can’t cut our hair in that special way, it’s too straight.”

  “But if you cut it,” Lissy said, “it’ll look just like Pacy’s and Ki-Ki’s hair. I’m older, mine should look different.”

  “Okay, I’ll cut i
t differently,” Mom said. “Did I ever tell you about the time they cut my hair in school?”

  HAIRCUT AT SCHOOL

  Do you remember how I told you that the schools in Taiwan were different from here? Every day our uniforms had to be crisp and spotless, and our hair had to be straight and combed and NEVER longer than our ears. They were very strict about these rules. Every day when we entered the school building, a teacher waited at the door to inspect us. She was a horrible woman. She had a long, sharp nose like a knife and her hair was pulled back so tightly that it looked like it was painted onto her skull. She was always watching and waiting, her eyes scanning for any imperfections.

  My hair always grew so fast. Grandma had to cut it all the time, much more than she cut my sisters’ hair. I hated getting my hair cut; I always felt like it was such a bother.

  But one day, on my way to school, I touched my hair. It was just a little bit longer than my ears. But it was longer by such a small amount that I ignored it. I thought the teacher wouldn’t notice.

  But as I got closer to the school, I began to feel nervous. I could see her at the door, studying the line of students the same way a hungry cat would study a line of mice. I fluffed my hair up, hoping that would make it look shorter.

  I saw a group of girls in front of me. I joined them, staying at the back. I hoped that they would hide me.

  But they didn’t. As I walked through the door, the teacher pointed at me! She pointed at me with a stern face that seemed to be made of steel.

  “No,” she barked at me, like an army sergeant, “your hair is too long.”