Jing-Mei Woo （1 / 46）

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my father has askedto be the fourth er at the joy luck club. i ato replacether, whose seat at the h jong table has beey since she died two nths ago. my father thinks she was killed by her own thoughts.

&a;a;a;quot;she had a new idea inside her head,&a;a;a;quot; saidfather. &a;a;a;quot;but before iuld e out of her uth, the thought grew too big and burst. it st have been a very bad idea.&a;a;a;quot;

the doctor said she died of a cerebral aneurys and her friends at the joy luck club said she died just like a rabbit: quickly and with unfinished business left behind. my ther was supposed to host theeting of the joy luck club.

the week before she died, she called , full of pride, full of life: &a;a;a;quot;auntie lioked red bean soup for joy luck. igoing tok black sesa-seed soup.&a;a;a;quot;

&a;a;a;quot;dont show off,&a;a;a;quot; i said.

&a;a;a;quot;its not showoff.&a;a;a;quot; she said the two so