As the strike and the winter hung on, Mother entered a trancelike state, sometimes sitting motionless on the couch four hours, watching the day’s endless reel of soap operas. Her face would be pointed at the television, expressionless, the only sign that she was alive was the occasional blink of her eyes. Even in her daily tasks, Mother became a lethargic bear who had mistakenly awoken early from hibernation. I watched as she folded the clothes into our dressers deliberately and with great care, trying to prolong the experience as if she were savouring it, as if she dreaded what was to come afterwards.

Around this time, Auntie Miriam went to Calgary to visit family and brought back something, or rather someone, that brought Mother back to life. She introduced her guest at a dinner at our home.

“Alfred is my cousin Agnes’s husband’s brother. He came here as a visitor but doesn’t want to go back to China. He’s a writer, but the Chinese authorities do not approve of his writing,” Auntie Miriam told us. “My cousin’s home is quite small, and they have a new baby, so I invited Alfred live with us for a while.”

Alfred wore a track suit and had a boyish face with the worn expression of an old man. He spoke very little English, and only Mother could converse with him at any length in Mandarin. After trying awkwardly to join our conversation, Alfred pulled out a book. Mother and Auntie Miriam, who hadn’t seen each other for weeks, were free to talk about him right in front of him. Alfred became a silent fixture, like the empty plates on the table.

“He’s very brave. He’s been through a lot in China,” Auntie Miriam said.

“He must be scared,” Bea observed.

“Being in a small town doesn’t scare him. He’s a solitary person and sits in his room writing a lot.”

“It’s admirable that you’re giving him sanctuary,” Mother said. “It’s always good to help those in need, especially our own kind.”

“Brave?” Father said. “This man is thwarting the law. Why doesn’t he get in line and apply for status like the rest of us? I don’t understand what the problem is?”

“Ah Loy, why are you being so cruel?” Mother admonished. “Have some compassion for someone who is facing jail and other terrible things in China.”

“Swee Hua, for all the glorious things you like to tell me about China, now you’re advocating giving safe haven to someone trying to escape this sacred home you have never been to,” Father pointed out.

“I know China isn’t perfect. I have never pretended it was. But to sacrifice your own kind needlessly? That is cruel,” Mother argued.

“What makes you think this person is so special that he should be exempted from the proper channels that we all used? We have all suffered and had difficult times. If he is deserving, Canada will accept him,” Father concluded.

“Ah Loy, it’s not so simple, Auntie Miriam interjected. “Agnes tried to sponsor him, and the application was rejected. Her family has paid a lot of money to lawyers to try to get his permanent residence status here. Nothing has worked. Alfred is making a refugee claim now.”