ACT [I]

SCENE [6]
(The paper screen becomes
illuminated and we see a figure
silhouetted. The TV powers on. Mom
emerges from behind the paper
screen. As she speak the TV screen
transitions from bars and tone to
images of water.)
MOM
I struggle so much. Good thing only one kid, otherwise
have to struggle even more. I always tell Willa,
always a struggle, why you make harder? I don't know
if she listen. She never listen. Make my heart hurt.
Now, I have liver problem too. I hope she find another
way. She hard worker, but not smart, about working
hard.
One time, I very sick. So sick, I not get out of bed.
Restaurant was small back then. No build big
restaurant yet. Willa seven year old. She trying to
help and bring me tea in bed. I almost die right
there. This time, no other employee to help. No one to
run the front- what I could do? I ask my seven year
old to go work for me. My husband already hard at work
behind the wok. I cannot get out of bed to drive car.
Nothing I could do. Willa put on big coat and she walk
to restaurant. By herself, seven year old! By herself.
I scared to send her outside by herself. Just little
girl. But what I could do?
She work all night for me- taking money, packing to go
orders. She just seven. And she already work hard. But
now, she not seven anymore, and too stubborn. That
night, I so worried she get hit by car or someone take
her. But what could I do? I not even get out of bed
for two more days after.
(Willa enters, sets up a high stool,
takes out her cell phone and
contemplates it. She is unaware of
Mom.)

Willa come home after work and bring me all the money
and tickets. Not one ticket missing. I wish Willa
still seven.

ACT [1]
SCENE [3A]
(Dad is silhouetted behind the paper
screen and emerges as he speaks. The TV
screen transitions from flames to wisps
of smoke.)
DAD
I come to Mei Guo, I have $200 bucks, one suitcase. I
work hard, little by little. Thirty year go by and
now. I business owner, I own house. I support my
family. I stand everyday in hot kitchen because I
build this. It is Chinese way.
If foot no hurt, if I no sick, I work for another
thirty year. My job to stay in hot kitchen for long
time. Long as I can stand up. Willa watch me in
kitchen when she little girl. She climb on big rice
bags. Eat too much Egg Drop Soup. She come with me to
make egg rolls. I have to make pork and boil cabbage.
Willa help me all day.
Maybe Willa no remember when she help me in kitchen.
Thirty year I work, no time to go out, no time to take
Willa to school, because I building a business. I know
Baak Guai in town see me and don't know how much I
build.
(The TV screen flashes a translation:
White people or white ghosts.)
Baak Guai speak loud when they talk to me because I no
speak English good. They talk loud so it help me
understand better, never work. They no think that I
build for thirty year. I work hard. I make a living.

WILLA
Huge breaths of fire, with the smell of grease that never
washes out of your clothes and hair. This is what I know.
Chinese people yelling at me over the noise of the hood and
the hot oil of the fryers, the fire coming out from beneath
the wok and engulfing the frame of my dad. This is where
I've spent my formative years. These are the sounds of my
childhood. These are the sounds that comfort me.
(A chick being hatched from an egg loop in
replay on the TV screen. Then transition to
images of a rice paddy being harvested fill
the TV screen)
My parents too engrossed with the price of cabbage to
notice that I hated that my hair wouldn't perm because it
was thick and "Asian." Hating that I had to work instead of
going to my friends' parties, but never realizing how hard
my parents worked to get here. The American dream.
(Images that portray the "United States of
America" fill the screen.)
WILLA
Their hard work afforded me to get a liberal arts degree,
to pursue my own dream, but unlike my parents, I am
failing. My parents' sweat fueled by the smells and sounds
of this restaurant might be wasted on their only daughter.
(Willa stands at the edge of the kitchen,
which is the edge of the paper screen. The
flames reflect off her face and the
silhouette of her Dad cooking with a giant
wok. Dad comes out from behind the screen.
He doesn't notice Willa.)
WILLA
I look at my dad and I wish I could communicate better. The
product of being raised American, you learn to detest your
Chinese roots because no one tells you how to appreciate
them. Then you slowly figure it out when you are entering
your third decade of life- But don't know how to make pan

fried dumplings from scratch and you can't speak Cantonese

without sounding like you were raised in the U.S.
(Images of the evolution of man from a
primate fill the TV screen.)
WILLA
When I look at my father. I don't know what he's thinking.
Is he disappointed? He has no one to carry on the name, no
son that can help him lift that heavy wok- only a daughter
that is American, who hasn't worked hard like him to
achieve a dream. Or even, a living. He supports his adult
daughter with the same wok that he did since the day she
was born.
(Willa approaches her dad. The TV screen
goes back to static.)

ACT [II]
SCENE [0]
(Uncle is silhouetted behind the paper
screen and emerges as he speaks. The
screen transitions from water to flames
of fire.)
UNCLE
I don't know any English. Don't worry. This is my part
in Willa's story, so everyone will understand. It only
takes a heart to understand. I'm here in this new
country, America.
(The TV screen flashes Mei Guo, the
Cantonese pronounciation on the screen
transposed over the American flag.)
I'm here because of my son. In China, I had a good
job. A manager in a big plant, with, maybe, 1000
employees to oversee. My wife died two years ago. It
makes my son even more important to me now. He is
obsessed with America.

Even if we did stay in China, he would leave to come

America for University or right after University.
Then, I would be alone in China, with nothing but 1000
employees to oversee. It would have been easier for me
to leave China after he finished high school, but then
I would be introducing an adult to a new life, in a
new country. Now, he is young...can learn the customs
and the ways. Become American.
This way I will be in America while he becomes
American. "Put roots down" as the Americans' say. He
can go to the many good universities here. He can have
a better life. More opportunities. He can have his own
1000 employees to oversee.
I give up the momories of my wife and the humble
beginnings of dirt floors and shared WCs of my
childhood, so that my son will be able to become
American.