Shanghai Girl (29 page)

The table we sit at is at the back of the banquet hall and close to the exit. We suddenly notice spectators two or three deep surrounding some people at the exit to the restroom. An American man’s voice is loud enough for me to hear: “And yourself! You must be thrilled to witness the holy matrimony of yet another Chinese couple!” I am shocked to realize that it’s Ed’s voice. My first instinct is not to let Ed see me. Yet, with so many Chinese faces in this section, I don’t think he will spot me right away.

“Let me pass!” a familiar, controlled voice in accented English says. “There’s nothing to talk about!” It’s Uncle Gordon!

Ed’s voice gets louder, “Don’t want to talk to me? Well, I want to talk to you!”

Then we hear, “Order! Order! Everybody return to his seat. I’m Officer Frank Sumo, 5
^th
Precinct. What’s the problem? Let this gentleman pass.” He gestures to Ed to make way for Gordon. I notice the man who says he’s an officer is wearing a business suit and tie.

“Thank you, Officer,” I hear Gordon say in his throaty voice with a stern face. He heads straight to the exit of the restaurant. Ed’s green eyes fiercely follow him. The scene pains me since I feel partially responsible.

When Ed returns to his seat, the expression on his face tells me he’s seen me. I pinch Lu Long’s hand and say quickly in Shanghai dialect, “Wait here. Don’t interfere,” and walk directly to Ed.

Ed’s face changes from shock to bitterness. “So you’re here, too?” he bellows. He draws me to him and hugs me close. “I just have a hunch I’d bump into you somewhere. How’s life, my dear?“

“Good,” I force a smile.

He softens a little. “You look as gorgeous as ever.”

“Thanks. You look fine yourself.”

Ed cracks a wry smile. Those yellow teeth. “I … I’ve been looking for you. Your sponsor has not been very cooperative, but … ”

“You made a scene. That was stupid of you.”

“Yeah, right! You saw that. It took one of New York City’s shitty finest to stop that, right? Who invited him to pig out at a Chinese wedding, huh? Heck! Where have you been all this time?”

I feel awkward talking to him with so many Chinese people around. “Nowhere,” I lower my voice. “I’m still in New York. Ed, this is not a good place to talk, you know.”

“Then, come over!” Ed grabs my arm and says in a low voice, “Look, I’m sorry about what happened. I … Just give me your phone number.”

“There’s nothing left between us, Ed.” Casting my eyes in Lu Long’s direction, I continue, “I really can’t talk. Good seeing you, Ed. Take care!”

Ed finds himself in the path of a waiter carrying a stack of used plates. “Damn!” he curses with clinched fists and walks toward the American section.

When I look at Lu Long again, his face is paper white. “Sorry, Lu Long. This was a terrible coincidence.”

His eyes staring directly into the front as though he didn’t hear me, he asks weakly, “That’s your American boyfriend?”

“Not any more,” I say. “Come on. I think it’s best that I leave here right now. He might try to find me again later.”

“You’re scared of him?”

“No. He’s just a nuisance. I truly don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore, you understand?”

Lu Long looks into my eyes and says, “Yes. I support you, Sha-fei. Let’s go out through the service entrance in the back of the kitchen.”

I follow him out. Soon, we are under the Arch of Triumph leading onto the Manhattan Bridge. Here, we stop.

“When you walk fast, you look like a bird hopping around,” Lu Long says.

“I suddenly feel like a bird let out of a cage now,” I reply with a smile.

“If we have a daughter, I hope she will have pretty dimples like yours,” Lu Long says suddenly, looking at my face.

“What are you talking about? You’re crazy!”

“I’m crazy for you!” He embraces me right there under the arch.

“Lu Long, don’t. Restrain yourself.”

He quips, “Order obeyed. By the way, do you know the older man the American was arguing with?”

“That’s Mr. Lou, my sponsor.”

“That cheap skate sponsor is your father’s friend from Columbia University?”

I just nod and do not protest his characterization of Gordon.

He looks at me seriously and says, “I’ll show you soon, Sha-fei. I’m going to be a Columbia graduate, too. I will make you proud of me.”

“I already am, Lu Long. Don’t be silly.”

“You know I’m better than all of them, don’t you.”

I hold his hand and reply, “Yes, Lu Long, I know that.”

Lu Long starts kissing me again.

A young American man at the wheel of a Ford pickup honks his horn and waves at us. With a grin, he drives all the way onto the Manhattan Bridge.

I smile at Lu Long and say, “He thinks you’re a stud, Lu Long.”

“What’s that?”

I turn red. “Nothing.”

18 Edward Cook: Season’s Greetings

When I adopted Moratorium, it was purely an impulsive act. I soon discovered that there isn’t a worse place in the world to raise a pet than in an apartment in New York City. The little creature is on a leash almost round the clock and my whole place just stinks. Bella, my Czech cleaning woman comes in three times a week now, to walk the dog in addition to dusting. I bet Moratorium is so used to Lysol disinfectant spray that he uses it as a fix every other day. I wasn’t completely free from concern that Bella could be a petty thief, or an Ivana Trump aspirant with a penchant for a sniff or two in the Free World. Fortunately, my worrying seems to be unfounded so far.

I could never have imagined so much attention for one little pet. But every time I walk into the apartment after a shitty working day, Moratorium comes wagging and lapping, hopping right into my arms, warm and fuzzy. Suddenly, it all seems to be worthwhile. As a friend, he sure beats the species with two legs and no heart. Or maybe I’ll take that statement back.

Dad’s wife Michelle has invited me up to Connecticut for Thanksgiving. I told her thanks but I’d pass. I’m never too big a fan of family gatherings. I can’t remember a Thanksgiving dinner where my parents didn’t quarrel. It was almost a blessing when they finally got divorced. Perhaps as a result of my association with the Thanksgiving meal, turkey became my least favorite food back when I was in high school. More recently, while in Hong Kong, a bunch of Chinese friends challenged me to try the snake elixir soup, a local delicacy.

“You will like it, Edward,” my skinny friend urged. “It tastes like chicken, maybe closer to turkey.”

“I don’t like turkey.”

“Turkey?” the Chinese man asked with a tone of surprise. “Turkeys are Americans. We here in the Colony are more British. We wouldn’t like turkey, either. The snake soup belongs to a much higher rank. Try it.”

For a minute, I wondered whether he was calling us Americans turkeys for not knowing better or that his English was less than perfect. I declined the snake elixir nonetheless.

The weather has suddenly turned cold, but I need no additional reminder that it’s the second half of the fourth quarter. Attorneys and clients alike, with red-rimmed eyes and husky voices, are trying frantically to make that deadline before the end of the fiscal year. The financial statements of many corporations are due to close for their annual reports. Moratorium went unfed until after midnight for a couple of nights straight while I slaved away at work, skipping the firm’s Christmas party at some Hanover Square private club altogether. I have little time to track down that old fox Gordon Lou. This task will have to wait until after year-end, when it will top my New Year’s resolution list.

By the time the giant ball of snowflakes-shaped bulbs is suspended over Columbus Circle, and the Christmas tree is erected in Rockefeller Center, I realize I haven’t been in stores in ages. I don’t have anybody to shop for, it seems, but I can use a little holiday atmosphere. At Bonwit’s, I notice a well dressed but nerdy-looking guy and a sophisticated-looking Oriental girl hugging on the escalator. A sour feeling rises in me. I fantasize that I look like Roger Moore while James Bond scoops up exotic women left and right …

At the end of the day, I finally buy just one thing, at Lord & Taylor’s: a Tartan dog coat with a matching collar and a bell. Moratorium will look swell on Fifth Avenue this holiday season. And who is to say that some lady in mink with a Pekinese won’t stop to strike up a conversation with me because of the outfit. I smile to myself and hail a cab.

Merry Christmas, one and all!

“
Season’s greetings, my big lawyer!”

“Who’s this?”

“Too many women, too-oo-oo … “

"Lotus?"

“There you go,” she laughs.

“Hey. How’s it going? How’s married life?”

“Not bad, not bad. We had a great time on our honeymoon.”

“Where did you go?”
“The usual. Hong Kong and Macao. Tons of relatives out there. Feasting and slot machines every night. It was great. Plus I kept winning at black jack. I told Brainy I was his lucky star.”

“Good for you. So what now? All set to make babies?”

Lotus giggles like crazy. “I can’t. Brainy is not around. He stayed on in Hong Kong for some business. Won’t be back until after the New Year’s.”

"Is that why you called, sugar puss?” I open my fly and slide my hand in.

“Shut up! Actually, I called to thank you for coming to the wedding.”

“You like my present?”

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t gotten around to seeing all the gifts. But thanks.”

“I meant to call you but figured you’d still be away.”

“Oh, right!”

“Serious! I wanted to ask you about your old boss, what’s-his-name.”

“What for?”

“The guy’s in trouble. The IRS may soon look into his finances, so you’d better cooperate.” My dick is still flaccid, I reach for a cigarette with my free hand.

“What are you talking about? How do you know this?”

“Well, I happen to have some reason to believe so.”

“Oh, fuck off. What evidence do you have against him?”

“We’ll find out as we go along. You want to help?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“How about the reward of helping an old friend?” I chuckle to myself at the suggestion. “Oh, by the way, would you be interested in working for me?”

“Doing what?”

“Oh, administration stuff like you did for your old boss. I’d like to have my own immigration law firm some day, and I need bilingual help.”

“Listen, Ed. I’m retired,” she replies with a laugh. Shifting gears, she says, “I was wondering if you have plans for New Year’s Eve.”

“I’ve got a couple of invites but nothing definite at this point. You got something?”

“As a matter of fact, there’s going to be a masquerade on New Year's Eve near Chinatown on West Broadway. Would you like to go with me?”

“That sounds like fun. I’ll go with you, as long as your husband doesn’t kill me. Remember you’re a married woman now.”

Lotus lets out the wildest laughter. “Why would he want to kill you? We’re just going to a party. Besides, if we dress up well, nobody will recognize us.”

I suddenly have an idea. “Did you say it’s a masquerade? How about you dressing up as a
geisha
woman? I’ll supply the genuine, classic kimono. Have your hair done and I’ll pay for it. Deal?”

She giggles and giggles and says, “Deal. I’ll send the info over to you and let me check out your kimono some time. Survive Sachs & Klein in the mean time. Ciao!”

As soon as I hang up, Moratorium starts barking. He likes to hear me talking on the phone. At this stage, it doesn’t happen too often for me at home.

Lotus is some woman. Not so high caliber compared to someone like Sha-fei Hong, but public school in Little Italy certainly paid off for her. Education definitely is the great equalizer in America. I remember a joke they used to have at Gotham U. (read Gotham Jew for its high concentration) campus: the difference between a Jewish mother who survived the Holocaust and her American daughter is that in one generation she’s turned from a seamstress to a shrink.

Could this also be true of Chinatown residents in New York? I don’t really know. But I do need to get my immigration practice started. Well, another top resolution for the coming year.

December 31, 1985. Walking in Manhattan tonight, I feel like the meat in Lotus’s father’s giant Frigidair box. I am too cold to joke about it with her.

Cops, pickpockets, and tourists are at Times Square waiting to see the descent of the big ball. Manhattanites usually celebrate the New Year away from Mid-town. Lotus is dressed up stunningly as geisha girl. The makeup person she got has virtually turned her into a real Japanese. I decided against wearing a costume just so that I don’t look too silly with a geisha in my arms.