Ruby Lu, Empress of Everything

Ruby’s mother was very talented. She knew an ancient Chinese saying for nearly everything.

“A wonder lasts but nine days,” she said, which is the same as saying that even the most interesting things get old-quickly.

Ruby’s Snow Queen skates, which make her as slippery as a jellyfish on a spoon, had lasted four days.

Samurai Sumo Sidekick, which came with extra batteries, had lasted three.

And Oscar when he was born, as sweet as a red-bean dumpling, had lasted two.

So it was a miracle that Flying Duck and the marvels of immigration lasted as long as they did.

Then…nothing was right.

First, there was the computer. Flying Duck always left it on the Chinese Internet. She loved playing mah-jongg online, and e-mailing her friends in Chinese. Ruby did not.

Second, there was the Cantonese, With the exception of Ruby and Ruby’s father, who was a Chinese School FOB (Flunked Out Badly), nobody spoke English at home anymore. Home became a foreign country!

Third. There was the toilet seat. Flying Duck would always leave it up. Chinese toilets require standing on the rim and squatting, which Ruby liked. But…Ruby’s favorite shoes were ruby slippers that twinkled like a million diamonds. And it was easy to forget to take them off before balancing on the toilet rim until…Aiyaaaaah! Splash!

Fourth, there were the chopsticks. Flying Duck used them for everything. She ate her spaghetti with them. She could pick up a meatball without spearing it. she could even pick up…a pea. And then one day the forks disappeared altogether.

“Good for Ruby to practice her chopstick skills,” Ruby’s mother announced.

Fifth, there was Ruby’s baby brother, Oscar. He loved sign language. He was always wiggling his cute little thumbs at Flying duck. His signing vocabulary soon included “more” “eat” “sleep” “dog” and “help.” He could sign more than he could speak, and it was more than Ruby could keep up with. So Flying Duck knew what Oscar needed before Ruby knew. It was not fair. Before Flying Duck arrived, Ruby’s father had told her that immigrants do many things differently. They eat different foods, dress differently, speak an different language, practice different habits. Different didn’t mean wrong. It just meant not the same.

Ruby liked different.

She even liked weird.

But Ruby didn’t like having her life turned upside down.

“Send her back,” Ruby cried one night. She ran into her mother’s arms and burst into tears. “I hate immigration!” Ruby sobbed.

Ruby’s mother wrapped Ruby in her arms and gave her a kiss and brushed away her tears.

“I know,” Ruby’s mother said. “Immigration is very scary. And you’ve been very brave.”

Ruby’s mother was right. Ruby had been very brave. Every day there had been a new challenge. And every day Ruby had done her best to keep up with the program.

“the worst is probably over,” Ruby’s mother said. “Everything will start to get easier. You’ll see.”