The Scavenger's Daughters (Tales of the Scavenger's Daughters, Book One) by Kay Bratt

past. Even if they hadn’t actually crossed paths, they had walked the same one for a time. And if he could admit it, perhaps meeting someone who held opinions close to his own had helped to heal one tiny part of his broken history.
    “Comrades for life,” Pei agreed.

W hat a difference one month could make. It was only February and already spring was making a subtle entrance. The unusually warm day was consolation for the fact that Benfu was so tired—even more so than usual. As he pedaled home, he was pleased at the balmy weather and best of all, relieved that their newest addition was still with them and doing well. The mandatory police report and newspaper listing had not brought anyone forward to claim her and despite Benfu’s worries of caring for another infant, he was glad to have her. Curiously, his little Jasmine had silently become Poppy’s unofficial guardian and had to be reminded constantly that she was only five and not big enough to carry the baby around. Each time she was reprimanded, she solemnly nodded her head and stepped back. The truth was that Benfu was glad she had finally perked up and was showing interest in something for the first time since he had found her the year before.
    Unlike most of the children who were found near the train station or down secluded alleys, Jasmine he had discovered on a late-afternoon trip through one of the famous parks of Wuxi. While most patrons had left for the day, Benfu and Calli were spending a rare afternoon alone and were taking advantage of the last light of the day. As they walked hand in hand through the park, he had spotted a tiny girl of around four years old playing in one of the small ponds, the only thing there with her a ragged cloth doll. He stillremembered how magically the goldfish swam around her hands as she gracefully weaved them in and around the water in tiny swirls.
    Benfu was suddenly jolted from his memories when his bicycle tire hit something. He stopped to get off the bike and bent down to pick up a few empty plastic bottles. He tossed them into the back of the cart and climbed back on, resuming his ride in deep contemplation.
    In the park that day they’d stopped to ask the little girl where her parents were but she wouldn’t—and still hadn’t—spoken. Benfu had reported finding her to the police, but nothing came from the so-called investigation and after her photo was run in the local papers for a month with no one coming forward, she was officially placed with him and Calli. By then she’d felt like theirs anyway, as the department had allowed them to keep her in their home during its search. He still wondered if she was actually abandoned or just lost, but at least the girl seemed content to be with them. And he had to admit, the child was one of the most special he had known. His affection for her was huge.
    Benfu was surprised Jasmine had taken to the newest daughter so well. With Poppy’s arrival, Jasmine had lost her ranking as the baby of the family but it didn’t seem to register for her yet. He hoped that her unusual attachment to the infant would bring a breakthrough to cause her to finally speak. But so far it hadn’t happened. Even though they wanted her to have the best chance at life, which he thought would entail communicating, they never pushed her. Benfu felt that of all their children so far, Jasmine was the most introverted. She was really shy—even preferring her hair to fall around her face like a curtain, almost as if hiding from the world. He hoped to hear her speak just once before his own days were over, just to hear the sound of her voice, which he imagined would be soft and pure.
    Benfu looked up and saw the blue sea of caps—the first signs of home. At the end of the narrow
hutong,
men wearing blue Mao caps bent over makeshift tables playing mahjong or cards. A few of them lifted their hands in greeting as he passed. Some days—especially like today when his bronchitis was acting up and he felt