“Swee Hua, each one is different. Don’t you want to see more of what we saw today?” Father asked.

“That was enough for me,” Mother replied.

“How about a shorter one,” Father offered.

“You can go with the girls if you want. I’ll stay here.”

“But, Mom,” I interjected, “this is supposed to be a family vacation. You can’t stay here. Besides, there’s nothing fun to do here. Come on the hike with us.”

“It’s just going to be more of the same,” Mother said.

I thought about Mother’s superstitious ways. Maybe she felt there was some hong out there that wasn’t right for her. After dinner, I could see Mother and Father in the distance. Mother was moving her arms wildly, and Father was looking at his feet. He raised his head, trying to interrupt. I felt my back clench. I hated seeing Mother unhappy. The argument ended abruptly when she stormed off into the dusk.

It was dark before she returned. She looked like E gui, the hungry ghost who roams the streets like a shadow, her long black hair resting over her shoulders and back, searching for sustenance but finding only what is rotten. When the light revealed it was Mother, she was still sullen. We acted as if nothing had happened and crawled into the van. As Father snored, Mother sat upright, stroking her ankle as if she had tested it too much during the day’s hike. I fell asleep watching her knead her foot with a steady force.

金Gold

WHEN WE ARRIVED IN CALGARY, the first place my parents drove to was Chinatown. It was like crossing a border into a secret place guarded by the lions on the Centre Street Bridge. I imagined the lions nodding their heads at me, letting us pass the threshold without inspection. How did these stores and restaurants full of Chinese people get to exist together in one place? It was unlike anything in Sparwood. There was the reek of garbage but also the aromas of roasting meat, baos fresh out of the oven, and sweet tapioca drinks. I could hear the popular Chinese music my parents played, making me realize my father was not atypical. The sights, sounds, and smells were like a warm hug from my mother.

Our first stop was Dragon City Mall. We went to Rainbow Bakery, where Mother picked up some baos, bought some Hello Kitty souvenirs in the neighbouring shop, and then climbed the stairs to the Regency Restaurant, for dim sum. Once we were seated at a round table, Father sat back and Mother took centre stage. She assumed the role of conductor, setting the tempo, pacing out the delivery of our decadent meal, motioning for different players to fill out the spread. She was pleased with the ensemble she put together, urging us to eat more, placing different morsels in our bowls and on our plates, telling us what they were called. The background chatter of other diners, the clanking of chopsticks, the loud calls of the servers to the kitchen staff accompanied Mother in her virtuoso performance.