Shanghai Girl (13 page)

"How so?"

"Well, you are Chinese and speak good English. You can use your bilingual skills to work for American lawyers with an Asian clientele. But you have to be in America first."

"I thought it's the rule that foreign students can't work in America."

"True,” he says. “That's why I think your best bet right now is to apply to a graduate program, and not to law school."

Ed glances at his watch and straightens his tall frame. "Okay, Miss Hong,” he says in a businesslike tone, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I hope I've been helpful. Good luck." He transfers the cigarette to his left hand and extends his right hand toward me.

Wishing he weren't concluding our meeting so abruptly, I walk over to shake his hand. The tip of his little finger pinches into my palm slightly as he gives my hand a tight squeeze. Blushing, I avert my eyes from his, which are shining like a pair of green marbles.

"Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Cook. By the way, could you give me your address so that I can contact you if I reach New York?"

Ed opens a gilded cardholder marked "E.J.C." and says, "I gave up my apartment in the city before I came to the Far East so I'll just give you this one with the Consulate address. If you're in New York, call information. I should be listed. Okay?"

His card, in black raised letters, reads:

Edward Jonathan Cook, III (Kwok Ai-teh)

J.D.; B.A. - Asian Studies

Special Aide, U.S. Consulate General

Shanghai, P.R. China

Immediately below is a rubber stamp imprint of the Consulate address and phone number.

I touch the surface of the card with care, feeling important. This is the first time I have received a business card from someone. From an American!

The phone on Ed’s desk rings. I hear him answer, “We’re winding up here. But you can let him stop by.” To me, he says, “I didn’t know you came with your uncle.”

“
Well, he’s not my real uncle. He’s my American uncle.”

“
I see. I know you Chinese call everybody uncles and aunts. I’m your American cousin, then,” he laughs.

“
But my uncle is Chinese-American.”

“
Is he?”

Just then, Gordon appears at the door and knocks lightly. “May I come in?”

“
Certainly,” says Ed, walking up to shake Gordon’s hand.

“
I’m Gordon Lou. I came with Sha-fei.”

“
I’m Ed Cook. Nice to meet you, Mr. Lou. You have a very intelligent and attractive niece, I have to say.”

“
Thank you. That’s my opinion of her, too. I just met her a couple of days ago here in Shanghai. She is the daughter of an old friend of mine.”

“
So you’re visiting from the States?”

“
Yes, from New York. First time back in Shanghai in three decades. Shanghai is unrecognizable now.”

Ed studies Gordon then asks suddenly, “This may sound odd to you, but would you by any chance be related to a woman named Irene Lou? Irene Long Lou?”

Gordon’s face changes expression sharply. “Of course! I’m her father.” His body tenses. “And you’re that Ed Cook?!”

“
I sure am, Mr. Lou. I’m sorry that you seem to …” Ed makes an attempt to shake Gordon’s hand again but is ignored. His face turning pale, Gordon says, “I don’t want to hear anything from you. I just can’t believe I could bump into you here!”

Ed forces a smile. “Yes. In Shanghai, of all places.”

“
Yuan Jia Lu Zhai, indeed,” Gordon blurts out in Chinese. To Ed’s somewhat confused look, Gordon adds sarcastically, “I’m certain a connoisseur of Chinese culture like you will know the idiom - ‘Enemies are bound to meet in a narrow alley!’ Our confrontation is inevitable. It’s just a matter of time.”

“
That’s right!” Ed raises his voice. “’One cannot avoid his enemy’ is what the idiom means. But I hardly viewed you as a nemesis, Mr. Lou. No matter what you think of me, I cared about your daughter! I still think about her from time to time. By the way, how is she doing?”

Gordon waves his hand, ignoring his question. “We have to get going. For whatever advice you gave Sha-fei, I thank you. And good day!”

One hand held by Gordon, I clutch the two pamphlets with my free hand and give Ed one last look. My confused eyes are met by Ed’s own viridescent ones, hazy yet somehow clear to me. “Thank you, Ed!”

"Good luck, Sha-fei,” he calls after me.

Gordon released my hand at the corridor, but remains silent until we get out of the Consulate gate. The anger on his face eases a bit as he says, “I’m sorry I had to cut your visit with him short, Sha-fei. I just didn’t expect this!”

“
That’s all right, Uncle Gordon. Thank you again for taking me there. I’m sure that these pamphlet I got are going to be very useful.”

He takes a look at my pamphlets and offers to store them in his briefcase. I’m again impressed by his gentleman-like behavior.

With eyebrows knotted, he asks, “Would you like to accompany me for a quick walk near the Bund?” he asks.

“
Certainly, Uncle Gordon.”

“
Thank you.”

He hails a taxi and tells the driver, “Beijing Road East and the Bund.”

Gordon and I sit quietly side by side, neither talking. A moment later, drawing me closer to him in the unheated car, Gordon takes off his black leather glove and cups my hand. That split second, I have the strangest thought that it was Father holding Marlene Koo’s hand in a taxi in New York over three decades ago. But then, Gordon puts my hand down. “I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice.

As we stroll along the Bund waterfront promenade, I make an effort to dispel my wild associations and concentrate on the view: The lazy winter sun covers the Huangpu River with a golden sheet. Ferries, man-oared junks, tenders and ocean-going jumbos dance on the gilded stage that is the Huangpu, making up a scene I have so taken for granted in my twenty-one years in Shanghai. The solemn neo-classical architecture is reminiscent of a colonial age. It looms over me with a stately Egyptian grandeur. Even the piercing wind feels refreshing. Like the house that still stands on the former avenue Joffre, which I now look at with the sentiment of a passer-by rather than that of a one-time resident, the mesmerizing city of Shanghai just seems to be there for me. It is part of my system that I don’t know exists unless somehow reminded.

The same sight seems to have brought Gordon out of his sullen mood and thrown his into nostalgia. “Ah, the Honkers and Shankers Building is right here,” he says, looking at a domed structure.

“
Oh. This is the seat of the Shanghai Municipal People’s Government.”

“
At one point, it was the headquarters of the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation, popularly dubbed as the Honkers and the Shankers,” he says. “They have branches throughout Hong Kong, as well as in New York.”

“
Is that so?” I ask. “I’ve never heard of this bank before.”

Gordon looks at me and says, “I’m afraid there’re a lot of things you haven’t heard of, Sha-fei. The other day, the taxi I was in passed by the Outer White Ferry Bridge - a familiar city landmark to you, I’m sure. But I became emotional in spite of myself. I was reminded of the days in the early 40’s when the Japanese soldiers guarded the bridge and beat up Shanghai civilians.”

“
That was during WWII, right?”

“
Yes,” says Gordon. “I can never overcome my resentment towards the Japanese because of the War, not in my lifetime. Ironically, in America nowadays, people are equally anti-Japanese. But that’s for economic reasons. So, as Chinese in America, we are often mistaken for Japanese. Ridiculous.” He shakes his head and continues, “Americans are so ignorant and they get away with being perpetually ignorant!”

I listen without comment, believing that he’s still upset about his confrontation with Ed Cook, and therefore, criticizing Americans in general.

At noon, the loudspeakers from on top the Customs House begin to broadcast “Red Is the East,” as they do at the beginning of every hour. Unconsciously, I hum along with what is the most familiar tune in my life:

Red is the East, rises the sun,

China was blessed with a Mao Zedong.

For the people’s happiness He works,

Hu-er-hei-yo

He’s our great liberator!

……

The Communist Party is like the sun,

Illuminates every corner where it shrines.

Wherever exists the Communist Party,

Hu-er-hei-yo

People there’ll be liberated!

“
What’s that?” asks Gordon.

“
You’ve never heard of ‘Dong Fang Hong -- Red Is the East’? This is the song one billion Chinese sing to eulogize Chairman Mao, the Red Sun of the East!”

His eyes drawn to the Customs House clock tower, Gordon appears to be hypnotized by the simple, repetitive folk melody. When the music dies down, he sighs. “They used to be the Big Ben Westminster chimes. How everything has changed! I feel like an alien in my native land. Unfortunately, I sometimes feel like an alien in my adoptive land as well.”

“
You mean in America?”

“
Yes. Let me tell you this, Sha-fei, you have to be very determined and prepared if you really want to go to the States. It will be a trip of no return. Home will never be as sweet again.”

“
I still want to go, Uncle Gordon. Home isn’t sweet at all now. Besides, I won’t know what it’s like to live in America until I go there. Otherwise, I may regret forever that I might have become more successful had I left home.”

“
You saw my reaction after seeing that American boy earlier. I believe I know who his father is, as well. Part of my worry for you going to the States is that a man like him … , well, let me put it this way: young, innocent women from Chinese families often cannot resist Western temptations. Irene fell in love with that man as soon as she entered college. She had been a top student at Stuyvesant High, a top public school in New York. But she ended up hanging around with young men who lacked ambition, experimented with drugs, and embraced liberal causes. It was that Ed Cook who had led her astray in the beginning.”

“
You think Ed is responsible for all that? Are they still lovers?”

“
No, he and Irene went their separate ways a long time ago, but the damage could not be undone. Irene now doesn’t want to work. She prefers to live on welfare. Shame on her and shame on me!”

“
I’m so sorry, Uncle Gordon.” I now vaguely understand Gordon’s rage over Ed Cook. Gordon feels he lost face with a daughter like Irene. “Still, I beg to disagree. I don’t think you can blame everything on Ed. He’s very successful. He told me he’s a lawyer with a J.D. degree. And he was quite helpful to me today. He recommended that I should apply for Gotham University in Manhattan.”

“
I’m not surprised. Gotham was where Irene went, and where they met. But Irene had to drop out in the last year. It broke her mother’s heart …… “ Gordon is reminded of something and glances at me fleetingly. “What else did he tell you?” he asks.

“
He gave me those two bilingual pamphlets about studying in the U.S. I can’t wait to read them. By the way, Uncle Gordon, you said you were going to help me get to America, right?”

“
Right. Don’t you think I’ve been helping you already?”

“
Of course I do. Thank you so much.”

“
What a kid!” he exclaims fondly. “Well. I’m afraid I have to get going. Thank you for your company.”

“
It’s my pleasure, Uncle Gordon. When do I see you again?”

“
The Purchase Agreement for which I came to Shanghai is close to signing. I’ll take you to dinner after the deal is closed. How’s that?”

“
That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

In a move defiant of China’s customs and mores, Gordon hugs me in the middle of Nanjing Road and briefly presses his cheek against mine.

Ribbons of exhilaration rush through my body.

A Guide To Studying In America suggests that if a foreign student knows a fellow countryman already studying in the U.S., it's best to contact that individual for first-hand information. Lu Long would be perfect for this. I waste no time writing him in Brooklyn. How has he been recently? Did he also apply to Gotham University but was only accepted by the University of Flatbush? Will he call Gotham for an application package to save me postage and time? Finally, does he have a girlfriend now?

Maybe our mutual dream of going to America to study, work, and be successful can come true after all. And lastly, take good care of yourself, my dear friend and English conversation partner!

6 Gordon Lou: Ninja Strategist

When I called the office back in New York at midnight Shanghai time, Lotus wasn't there to answer the phone. I had sent her a fax saying I would call around noon her time to check the status of the final draft of the Purchase Agreement Sachs & Klein has been finalizing. As my gatekeeper, Lotus usually eats in house out of box lunches she brings in from Chinatown. It’s ridiculous that she's out for lunch today despite my designated call-in time.