Clean House Good Luck

On the darkest days of Winter, storm clouds gathered and dropped a blanket of snow on everything in Beijing, including Ying’s school house.
After school, Ying went to fetch his sister from class before heading home. She stood next to the coat rack as he tucked a scarf around her neck and bundled her coat.
“Where are your mittens?” he asked.
“I accidentally left them at home.”
“I’m sorry. I should have noticed that,” said Ying. He took off his gloves and pushed them over Lien-Hua’s tiny hands. They were much too big, but that was the only choice they had. Ying balled his hands into fists and stuffed them deep into his pockets.
“Come on,” ordered Ying. They hiked down the road from the school house, following a trail of footprints left by children who had already gone home. Lien-Hua lingered behind her brother, her gloves looking like giant five-headed puppets on each of her hands.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to take back my gloves and you’ll have to try walking with her hands in your pockets.”
“I’m going as fast as I can.”
“Let me take your books,” said Ying as he tucked them between his elbow and ribs.
They shuffled home in the snow and stamped their feet on the front step, cleaning the wet slush off their boots.
“Your mother is waiting for you children,” said Grandma Mei.
“Where is she?”
“Boiling tea in the kitchen.”
Ying and Lien-Hua walked into the kitchen, not knowing what to expect.
“Mama, Grandma said you wanted to talk to us,” said Ying.
“It’s New Year’s Eve. You know what that means, right?”
Ying sighed.
“Grab a broom and dust pan from the closet and give it to your sister. She can do the sweeping.”
“Oh mom,” groaned Lien-Hua.
“You’re getting off easy,” replied mother.
“What about me?” asked Ying.
“I need you to take a snow shovel and clean off the step and the sidewalk in front of the house.”
Ying retrieved the necessary tools from the hall closet. He gave Lien-Hua a dustpan and broom, and then got a snow shovel for himself.
Outside, the street of the Hutong was busy with people. Many of the houses in the alley were already decorated with lanterns and ribbon. Christmas lights were stretched from one side of the Hutong to the other. Tonight, they would be illuminated, casting a golden light throughout the Hutong.
Ying quickly shoveled all the snow from the front porch and sidewalk, continuing a short distance in both directions.
Miss Yan, who lived next door to the Liu family had been watching Ying from her living room. She opened the front door and stood next to Ying as he finished cleaning off her porch.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.
“Gung Hei Fat Choy,” said Ying, which meant Happy New Year.
“Gung Hei Fat Choy,” she replied.
“Thank you, Ying.” Ying blushed as she planted a kiss on his cheek.
“You’re welcome,” said Ying. He quickly returned inside, where his mother needed his help again.
“Your sister isn’t making much progress,” she said.
Ying put the snow shovel away and went to his parent’s bedroom, where Lien-Hua was trying to work the broom and the dustpan at the same time.
“Let me take that,” he said.
Ying pushed the broom around the room, sweeping under beds and dressers. Lien-Hua moved the dustpan across the floor, gathering dirt and dumping it into the trash can. They continued through all of the bedrooms then finished in the kitchen.
“We also need to dust the furniture,” said Ying.
“Mom didn’t say I had to,” said Lien-Hua.
“I bet she would if I asked her,” replied Ying.
Ying retrieved dust rags and cleaned dust from the furniture and cleaned cobwebs from corners. As he stretched behind the couch in the sewing room, several of Ge’s six-legged friends hopped this way and that.
“You’d better not let your mother see them,” said Grandma Mei.
“Shoo! Shoo!” said Lien-Hua. They gathered as many crickets as they could, setting them free on the middle of the Hutong. Lights and lanterns were lit, ready for the New Year. The Hutong came to life as New Year’s drew closer.
Ying and Lien-Hua returned to the kitchen, , where Grandma Mei had joined their mother, busily fixing dinner for their many New Year’s guests.
“Do you need us to do anything else?” asked Ying.
“Fetch a bucket from the basement and fill it with cleaning water. I want you to mop and wax the floors.”
Lien-Hua groaned.
“That’s the last thing you have to do,” reassured Mrs. Liu.
“Why do we have to do all these chores?” asked Lien-Hua.
“A clean house in the New Year brings good luck and invites wealth.”
“Okay,” sighed Lien-Hua. She followed her brother into the basement as he retrieved a scrub brush, a mop and a bucket. He poured floor cleaner into the bottom of the bucket then put it under the faucet. Suds formed as water filled the bucket.
Ying and Lien-Hua returned upstairs. As Ying cleaned the tile in the bathroom, Lien-Hua mopped the wooden floor of all the bedrooms.
“I’m finished.”
“Let me check,” said Ying. He ran the mop over every place that Lien-Hua missed and handed her the mop.
“Stand right here and wait while I finish scrubbing the bathroom.”
She leaned against the mop, staring at her brother as he scoured the bathtub. When he finished, it was pearly white.
Ying grabbed the mop and quickly ran it over the bathroom floor.
“Carry the bucket into the kitchen,” Ying ordered his sister. Ying put the finishing touches on the bathroom and followed her into the kitchen.
He began scrubbing the kitchen floor as Lien-Hua mopped. Mrs. Liu stood next to the stove as her children cleaned the rest of rthe kitchen floor around her.
“What now?” asked Ying.
“Leave the mop and bucket there. I’ll have to go over it again anyway.”
“Do you need me to do anything else?”
Mrs. Liu stopped cutting vegetables to think for a moment. Just then, a knock came at the front door.
“Get the door,” she replied.
It was Grandpa Jong, carrying a covered serving dish.
“Take this while I get more from the car,” said his Grandpa.
Ying grabbed the serving dish and placed it in the middle of the kitchen table.
“That’s one problem solved,” said Mrs. Liu.
Ying pulled the lid off the serving dish. A whiff of steam rose from the middle of the platter. He inhaled deeply, smelling the aroma of the large roast duck sitting on the tray.
“It smells wonderful,” said Ying.
Just then, Grandpa Jong came into the kitchen, carrying two armloads of groceries. He sat one bag down and plucked a piece of skin from one of the wings and popped it into his mouth. The rich flavor of the roasted duck melted in his mouth.
“Father, why can’t you wait until midnight, when everyone can enjoy the meal together?” said Mrs. Liu.
“it’s just a little piece of skin, and it’s under the wing where nobody will know it’s gone.”
“I’ll know it’s gone and so will Ying.”
“But nobody else will know unless you tell them,” said Grandpa Jong.
“If you’re hungry now, I made a kettle full of Buddha’s delight. You can eat some while we get ready for the New Year.”
Ying helped Grandpa Jong unload the groceries and cleared a spot on the table for the bowl of Buddha’s Delight. He sat it next to the Roast Duck and began filling a bowl.
“I’m not hungry,” said Grandpa Jong.
Mr. Liu came in and took off his jacket. After he leaned over to kiss his wife on the cheek, he plucked a piece of skin from beneath the duck’s other wing.
“Ya Liu!”
Hurriedly, Grandma Mei filled a bowl for each of the men and shooed them to the sewing room.
“Where do you want us to eat?” said Grandpa Jong.
“Anywhere but here,” said Grandma Mei, “you’re giving your daughter fits.”
“Ying, don’t forget to fetch lap trays from the hall closet,” said his mother.
“I will,” he answered.
“And don’t forget to put away the cleaning supplies. It’s a bad omen to see brooms or dustpans in the New Year,” added Ying’s mother.
“Good luck could get swept away,” said Grandma Mei.
Ying finished cleaning up, then joined the rest of his family in the sewing room. He dug his spoon into the ingredients of his Buddha’s Delight: Bamboo Shoots, Black Mushrooms, Arrowroot, Carrots, and Potatoes. He finished everything but the Fat Choy, which he thought looked like rotten grass.
“It’s bad luck to not eat everything in your bowl,” said Grandma Mei.
“But I don’t like Fat Choy.” Grandpa Jong leaned over and ate the last few bites in Ying’s bowl. Grandma shook her head.
People arrived soon after, bringing their entire families. Aunts, Uncles and cousins. Lien-Hua took everyone’s coat and stacked them on her bed while Ying fetched more lap trays and set them up in the sewing room.
Ying stood in the doorway of the sewing room, looking at everyone’s smiling faces. Some were familiar and some were not.
He took a deep breath again. The woodsy smell that came off everone’s body mixed with the smell of the roast duck and Buddha’s Delight.
“Ying, you’re growing up into such a big and handsome boy,” said his Auntie Fay. She kissed him on the same cheek where Miss Yan had kissed him. Her kisses smelled like the same musty perfume Ying had always smelled on Auntie Fay.
“The year’s almost over. Is there anything you wish you would have done since the last time I saw you?” she asked.
Ying looked at his watch and thought for a moment. He looked around at his extended family.
“I wish time would go more quickly when I was at school and it would go slower when I was home with my family,” he replied.
“You and everyone else,” chuckled Auntie Fay.
“Would you like a bowl of Buddha’s Delight?” asked Ying.
“I would love some,” she replied.
Ying fetched a soup bowl from the kitchen table and filled it with Buddha’s Delight and served it to his Auntie. She took a sip of broth and smiled.
“Did you try some?” she asked.
“I had a small bowl.”
“You know what they say about Buddha’s Delight, right?”
Ying shook his head.
Buddhist monks ate Buddha’s Delight for the first five days of the New Year. One can never eat too much. Eat another bowl, Ying. It will cleanse your soul. Clean Body Long Life.”
He fixed another bowl, savoring the ingredients that would cleanse his soul. This time, he even ate the Fat Choy, finishing the Buddha’s Delight himself.