Chapter 8 Questions Without Answers
Questions Without Answers
At thirteen years old, Tan Lee David discovered that growing older didn't make unanswered questions disappear.
It only made them harder to ignore.
When he was seven, wondering about his biological family had been simple.
Where was Mama?
Where was Daddy?
What happened to Jin?
Would they ever find him?
At ten, the questions became more complicated.
Why hadn't anyone come?
Why did people in Little Chinatown recognize his jade pendant?
Why did grown adults suddenly become nervous whenever Terrence mentioned the Lee name?
Now, at thirteen, Tan had begun asking questions he didn't always say aloud.
Had his mother survived the immigration raid?
Had his father been deported?
Was Jin still alive?
Had his brother really tried to return for him?
Or had the sixteen-year-old boy who promised to come back simply decided that rescuing a five-year-old was too dangerous?
That last question made Tan feel guilty every time it entered his mind.
He loved Jin.
At least, he loved the version of Jin he remembered.
Memories were strange things.
Some remained painfully clear.
He could still see his brother crouching in front of him inside their apartment, fear filling his eyes while he fastened the jade pendant around Tan's neck.
Never take this off.
He remembered their pinkies linking.
I promise I'll come back.
Other memories had faded so badly that Tan sometimes wondered whether he'd invented them.
His mother's voice.
His father's face.
His grandmother's laugh.
The smell of his childhood bedroom.
Each year seemed to steal another piece.
That terrified him more than he admitted.
Because forgetting felt like losing them all over again.
Saturday morning sunlight spilled across the David kitchen while Eva stood at the stove making pancakes.
"Who wants blueberry?"
"Me," Ella answered immediately.
"Chocolate chip?" Eva asked.
Travis raised his hand.
"I want both."
Eva looked over her shoulder.
"That's not one of the options."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm the one cooking."
Travis leaned against the counter.
"That sounds controlling."
Eva pointed her spatula toward him.
"Keep talking and you're getting oatmeal."
Travis immediately became quiet.
Eleven-year-old Ella laughed.
At fourteen, Travis had entered the stage where he believed he was smarter than everyone inside the house. He had grown several inches over the summer and now seemed convinced height had granted him special authority.
It hadn't.
Tan sat at the breakfast table staring into a bowl of cereal.
Eva noticed.
"Tan?"
Nothing.
She turned from the stove.
"Earth to Tan."
He blinked.
"What?"
"Blueberry or plain?"
"Whatever."
Travis gasped.
"Don't say that to Mom. You'll get plain on principle."
Eva gave him a look.
"I thought you wanted pancakes."
"I do."
"Then stop helping."
Tan smiled faintly.
Terrence entered the kitchen already dressed for work, his badge clipped near his belt.
He leaned down and kissed Eva.
"Morning."
"Morning."
He stole a piece of bacon.
Eva slapped his hand.
"That's for the children."
"I bought the bacon."
"I cooked the bacon."
"Marriage is supposed to be a partnership."
"Then partner yourself back to the grocery store."
Travis shook his head.
"This relationship seems toxic."
Terrence looked at him.
"You have five seconds to leave my kitchen."
Travis laughed.
"You said it was Mom's kitchen."
"Four."
Travis grabbed two pancakes and disappeared.
Ella followed him.
Tan remained at the table.
Terrence poured himself coffee.
He didn't ask what was wrong immediately.
He'd learned over the years that Tan talked when he was ready.
Instead, he sat across from him.
"Got practice today?"
"Eleven."
"You ready?"
"Yeah."
Silence.
Terrence drank his coffee.
Tan turned the spoon around inside his cereal.
Finally he asked,
"Dad?"
"What's up?"
"What was my father's name?"
Terrence slowly lowered his cup.
Eva stopped moving at the stove.
They had told Tan everything contained in his official records.
Which wasn't much.
The name listed for his father had never been fully verified.
Different documents contained variations.
Li Wei Lee.
Wei Jian Lee.
William Lee.
Even Tan's mother's information was inconsistent.
Mei Chen Lee appeared in one record.
Mei-Ling Chen in another.
One immigration form listed no mother at all.
Terrence hated that the answer was still uncertain after eight years.
"We don't know for sure."
Tan stared into his bowl.
"But I'm thirteen."
"I know."
"How can nobody know who my father is?"
Terrence leaned forward.
"We've talked about what happened with the records."
"I know what you told me."
There was frustration in his voice now.
"Half got messed up. People got moved around. Names got spelled wrong. Everybody was scared."
"That's part of it."
"But I had a birth certificate."
"Probably."
"Then where is it?"
"We never recovered it."
"Why?"
Terrence remained calm.
"Tan—"
"How can somebody just lose a whole kid's life?"
Eva turned off the burner.
She came to the table and sat beside him.
"They shouldn't."
Tan looked at her.
"I'm not blaming you."
"I know."
"I'm not."
Eva reached for his hand.
"You have every right to be angry."
Tan swallowed.
"What if Jin came back?"
The kitchen became silent.
"What if he came back and I wasn't there?"
Terrence's chest tightened.
Tan's voice grew quieter.
"What if he's been thinking all this time that I died?"
"We don't know."
"I hate that answer."
Terrence nodded.
"So do I."
Tan pushed the cereal away.
"What if he thinks I got deported?"
"Possible."
"What if he got deported?"
"Also possible."
"What if he's dead?"
Eva squeezed his hand.
Terrence didn't answer immediately.
Then he said,
"That's possible too."
Tan closed his eyes.
He appreciated that about Terrence.
His father never lied simply to make something hurt less.
But sometimes the truth hurt plenty on its own.
"Can we look again?"
Terrence studied his son.
"I never stopped."
Tan opened his eyes.
"What?"
"I've been checking records every year."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't want your childhood to become an investigation."
Tan stared.
Terrence continued.
"I've spoken with immigration attorneys. Community organizations. Retired officers. Social workers. I've had records requests submitted."
"And nothing?"
"Pieces."
"What pieces?"
Terrence glanced at Eva.
Then back at Tan.
"Enough to know people remember your family."
Tan straightened.
"Who?"
"Mostly people in Little Chinatown."
"What did they say?"
"Very little."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Tan frowned.
"That's not true."
Terrence knew immediately what his son meant.
He didn't know exactly why people remained silent.
But he had theories.
"You think they're scared," Tan said.
Terrence sighed.
"Yes."
"Of who?"
"I don't know."
"Of my family?"
"Possibly."
Tan stared at him.
"Is my family bad?"
Eva's expression fell.
Terrence answered carefully.
"I don't know enough to say that."
"But you're thinking it."
"I'm thinking there are things about the Lee family people don't want discussed."
Tan touched the jade pendant beneath his shirt.
"Because of this?"
"Maybe."
Tan pulled it free.
The green stone caught the morning sunlight.
He had worn it so long that the pendant felt almost like part of his body.
"What if this belonged to somebody bad?"
Eva shook her head.
"That doesn't change what it means to you."
"What does it mean to me?"
She looked at him.
"Whatever you decide it means."
Tan's eyes lowered.
"Jin said it meant family."
Terrence nodded.
"Then start there."
Basketball practice didn't improve Tan's mood.
Usually the court gave him somewhere to put every emotion he couldn't explain.
Today his head wasn't in the game.
He missed two easy layups.
Threw a pass directly out of bounds.
Then snapped at DeAndre when his friend joked about it.
Coach Wallace blew his whistle.
"David!"
Tan stopped.
"Bench."
"Coach—"
"Bench."
Tan walked off the court.
DeAndre followed a few minutes later during substitutions and sat beside him.
"You good?"
"Yeah."
"You're lying."
Tan took a drink of water.
DeAndre had been his best friend since elementary school.
At thirteen, DeAndre Morris had already grown close to six feet tall and was convinced he would play in the NBA despite possessing a jump shot that routinely endangered spectators.
He knew Tan well enough not to accept easy answers.
"You still thinking about your biological family?"
Tan looked over.
"How you know?"
"You got that face."
"What face?"
"The one where somebody could give you a million dollars and you'd ask where they got it."
Tan laughed despite himself.
DeAndre smiled.
"There."
"What?"
"You laughed."
"Shut up."
DeAndre leaned back.
"You gonna look for them?"
"Yeah."
"You think your dad will help?"
"He's been helping."
"Officer David finds everybody."
Tan looked toward the court.
"Not them."
DeAndre became serious.
"You know what's weird?"
"What?"
"If you find your other family, you're gonna have like... extra family."
Tan frowned.
"That's your big observation?"
"Think about Christmas."
Tan laughed.
"You're stupid."
"I'm thinking economically."
Coach blew his whistle.
"Morris!"
DeAndre jumped up.
"See? That's why I don't give good advice."
Tan watched him return to the court.
Something about the conversation helped.
Not because DeAndre had solved anything.
Because he hadn't treated the search as something threatening.
Finding the Lees wouldn't erase the Davids.
Tan knew that logically.
Sometimes his heart still needed reminding.
Later that afternoon, Terrence picked Tan up from practice instead of Eva.
Tan climbed into the passenger seat.
"Where are we going?"
"Field trip."
"I'm sweaty."
"People have survived worse."
Tan frowned.
"Can we get food first?"
Terrence handed him a brown bag.
Inside was a turkey sandwich, chips, an apple, and two chocolate-chip cookies.
Tan smiled.
"Mom made this?"
"Grandma."
"Even better."
"Don't ever say that in front of your mother."
Tan laughed.
They headed north.
After several minutes, Tan recognized the direction.
"Chinatown?"
"Little Chinatown."
Tan's smile faded.
"Why?"
"You asked me to keep looking."
"Today?"