Chapter 5 - "Got Me a Damn Princess Pushing My Raft!"

Dear friends, family, and gentle readers,

Got a new character for you to learn this week (actually two). I should not have to tell you to remember her because I'm sure you will, but she's important later on. I've written a couple of other works, and she falls into a certain category of stock character for me. I guess I'm admitting to being a fiction hack, oh well ... but since nobody but my kids know of her fellow genre-types, she'll be fine for you the first time out.

I'm going to warn you that I am a tax preparer (among other things), and these pesky returns that I prep for clients may get in the way of regular updates. But if you're reading this, you're probably a regular.

Cheers and Happy Super Bowl Sunday and Gong Hee Fat Choy!
Pops

Personal Journal Entry

Monday, July 2, 2012

Project Date: Week 2, Day 2

There are several places on the Island in which rainwater runoff is retained. There is regular rainfall even in what they call their “dry” season, so an abundant supply is always available. Many mechanisms exist for capturing rainwater at higher elevations and routing them to towers, basins, and filters, which allow for a gravity-based delivery system to all the various households and working areas. The Romans would see the Dog Islanders as their wise successors, at least as far as an aqueduct system was concerned. 

Lee and Ling function as what we would think of as the municipal water authorities, who regularly maintain delivery systems and test for contamination, such that the human drinking water system is totally closed and controlled. They tend to drink tea rather than water here, so there is double protection from water-borne illness. One remembers why the Chinese miners and rail workers in 19th-century California thrived while their white counterparts succumbed to disease--it was tea drinking that saved them.

The largest body of water on the Island is something they just call “The Lake.” It drains to the ocean so there is some communication of life forms between the two, but the lake water is surprisingly fresh. A big part of my task, as defined by the Earth Dragon Institute, is to do a pretty thorough study of this supposed freshwater source. Its use as a human drinking supply is not really significant, but I will report that its use for agriculture and animal husbandry is vital.

I located the shed adjacent to The Lake that Lee had informed me about. There was a small rowboat and a raft that I was allowed to use to conduct my sampling. But before I got on the water, I spent time staking reference posts at various points around the lake perimeter. I was dividing the lake into sectors and I would take sample readings at various consistent depths. 

This is a very old-school surveying technique, but I was a cheapskate and didn't want to spring for the electronic measurement instruments. Dropping buckets would work fine for me. After I pushed off from the south landing, I realized I had left a toolbox behind. There was a girl at the water’s edge who looked to be in earshot.

    “Hey, you there!” I called out. No response. Maybe Chinese? “Aiya! Siujeh! Young lady?” She looked up and over my way. She waved.

    “You broke the rule!” she declared in English.

    “Did I?”

    “Yep!”

    “It’s because I’m evil. And I'm up to no good!”

    “You are NOT. You’re just not supposed to start talking to us.”

    “I could use a small bit of help.”

    “I didn’t hear a thing. Let’s start over.”

    “I like the way you think, young lady!”

    “HA! You’re the only one then!” She turns away and turns back. “Hey Mister!”

    “Ahoy there.”

    “Do you need any help?”

    “Now that you mention it. I do.”

    “How can I help?”

    “I left a toolbox on the south landing. Could I get you to take it over to the east landing? I’ll be over there in a while. About an hour and a half.”

    “Yes, but it will cost you.”

    That was unexpected. “How much?”

    “I’ll think about it. See you later.” 

And so I took my first set of readings and soundings, and when it was just about lunchtime, I paddled my way over to the east landing. The girl was waiting there for me, sitting with her feet dangling over the side. She did not have the white tunic and black trouser uniform that Lee and Ling regularly sported. She wore beige pants that reached just to her knees, and had on a cotton navy blue pullover shirt with a floral pattern on it with short sleeves. She had on a broad-brimmed field hat and I now saw that she was wearing glasses. The glasses were much too small for her face. There was a pinched quality to her gaze that bespoke nearsightedness. I judged her to be about 14. Very petite frame, elfin, probably stands five feet even, barefoot. 

She did not notice my approach as she was engrossed in reading her book. She eventually looked up when the raft bumped against the rubber tires surrounding the landing. I decided to follow the rules and waited for her to speak first.

    “Ah, you learned. I talk first.”

    “Yes, he can be taught. Allow me to introduce myself. I am . . .”

    “I know all about you. You are Dr. Clete Wong, yes my mother told me all about you. All the Firsts were briefed about your visit several weeks ago.”

    “Firsts?”

    “Oh. I mean the mothers. The older ones.”

    “So does that make you a Second or a Last?”

    “I’m not sure what I’m allowed to tell you.”

    “Then just tell me your name.”

    “I am Qin Qin. I am the Second Guardian Princess of the Fire Element, and the Guardian Princess of History, Prophecy, and Lore of Dog Island.”

    “Please to meet you Qin Qin. That is SOME title.”

    “There are two if you didn’t notice. Do you have a title?”

    “I also have two. For the exploration company, principal. For the school, adjunct professor. But just call me Clete.”

    “I think I shall call you . . . Dr. Wong.”

    “Ling said the same thing. Is this a generational thing eh?”

    “Sort of. Your toolbox is there.”

    “I see, thank you.”

    “And when I told my mother that I was fetching your box for you, she told me to bring you this.”

She handed me a package wrapped up with a dishtowel. “What is it?”

    “Rice, vegetables, and probably steamed sausage. It’s your lunch.”

    “That’s really nice. I see she packed one for you too. What do I owe you?”

    “The lunch is free, from my mother. I told you I would think about what you owe me for bringing your toolbox.”

    “Go ahead. What’s your price?”

    “I think we will just talk.”

    “That’s pretty cheap. You’re lettin’ me off easy.”

    “I told my mother I said, ‘It would cost you.’ She told me I was a rude, selfish, money-grubbing demon child. And how could I be her daughter?”

    “Is she right about that?”

    “Almost always. But I get that all the time. We never get visitors here. How can I be a money-grubber if there’s no money on this Island? I just got that saying from TV shows. But is it wrong to ask value for value?”

    “Pretty deep question Miss. How old are you?”

    “I’m 16.”

     “Hmm. Nothing wrong with valuing one’s effort and time in my book. Only when you understand that, does the world make sense.”

    “So what does my mother get in turn for making your lunch then?”

    “You’re quick. She may not say it, but she gets an equivalent call on me in what I call ‘the favor bank.’ You tell her I’ll cook her lunch when you two come and visit me in Los Angeles.”

    “So is it OK with you if we just talk? I’ve never talked to an American before.”

    “Why don’t we eat first? I’m hungry and this smells good,” I said untying the towel. She handed me a pair of chopsticks and we got to the serious business of chowing down. When I got close to done, I asked, “How come your mother didn’t join us?”

    “She’s busy with something right now.”

    “Will I get to meet her?”

    “I don’t know. I hope so. She’s nice enough.”

    “So now, what do you want to ask an American?”

    “What’s the weather like where you live?”

    “Los Angeles? Usually clear and sunny. Probably always about 20-30 degrees Fahrenheit cooler than here. Hardly ever rains. It would be overcast with clouds this time of year. You’d probably think it was cold. The air’s pretty dry too. Maybe 30-50 percent less water vapor in the air than here. I think it’s pretty hot and wet here.”

    “Is that why you’re always sweating? You keep wiping your brow.”

    “Yeah. I hope I get used to it. L.A.’s a very crowded place too. People everywhere all the time, everybody driving. Very noisy. I find it deafeningly quiet here on the Island.” I could see she was trying hard to come up with another question. “Do they have a teacher for you on this Island?”

    “They did, but schooling stopped when I reached my 16^th birthday.”

    “That’s not good. You’d only be a 10^th grader in Los Angeles.”

    “It’s all right. School stopped because I am the youngest person on the Island. I can read and write well enough. That’s why they gave me my job. The history job.”

    “What are you reading there? One of your history books?”

    “It’s my favorite book. It’s a collection of fairy tales.”

    “May I see?” I removed my sunglasses to put on my reading glasses. It was a book that had been read so many times the edges of the paper felt like soft down, and the corners were slick and oil-infused from all the handling.

    “You have TWO pairs of glasses!”

    “Actually I have three,” I got out a third pair. “These are for outdoor distance in bright sun, these are for up-close reading, and these are for medium distance, like a computer screen or music stand.”

    “May I?” she asked. She took off her glasses and handed them to me while she took my distance sunglasses and tried them on.

    “It’s like my eyes just relaxed.”

    “Well, it’s an old man’s prescription. It can’t help you that much.” Still, she was impressed. Her glasses were in bad shape. Originally for maybe a 10-year-old, they had been duct-taped together. There were red irritation marks on her temples where the sidearms chafed against her skin. One of the arms had broken off and it was a piece of insulated heavy gauge wire that would loop around her ear. She then tried on the others, eventually handing them back and putting her own back on. “It’s hard for you to read it, isn’t it? Your prescription has probably changed.” I handed back her fairy stories.

    “Nearsighted. If I hold this book really close I can see everything. But I know every word by heart anyway.”

“Got other books?” I put my sunglasses back on. As they sat on my face, they now made me feel hollow.

    “I have a lot of books.”

    “How many?”

    “Ten. In English.”

    “If you want something new to read, you’re welcome to help yourself to any of the books and magazines I brought with me. I didn’t pack many but there are some. Drop by my cottage and have a look.”

    “Maybe I will.” She went silent and started to wrinkle her face in frustration.

    “You wondering what else to ask me? About Los Angeles? Or America?”

    “Maybe.”

    “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere for a while.” Her wheels were still spinning. “Ask me something specific, then ask me something broad.”

    “Specific?”

    “Weather was pretty good. How about food or clothes or maybe what the boys your age are like?”

   “Puh-leez!” she said sarcastically. “OK, what do you usually eat for lunch?”

    “Would you believe something very similar to what your mom made? There’s a teriyaki shack right around the corner from my office. I get combo number three almost every weekday—Broccoli, mushrooms, and chicken on brown rice. Gets you out the door under $5.”

    “I thought Americans ate hamburgers.”

    “Not this one. A steady diet of that stuff will make you fat. Although it’s a pretty cheap meal. It’s tempting to get one all the time.”

    “Beef is cheap? I can’t believe that!”

    “You never have beef?”

    “Auntie Qi raised two miniature cattle once. They were pretty cute. They pulled things for us, and then we ate them. She said they were quite expensive to get.”

    “Miniature cattle?”

    “Smaller than regular oxen. Just like our pigs. The island is not big, we aren’t either, so we keep small animals. I’m actually the smallest human on the island. YOU on the other hand, are the biggest now.”

    “Just a minute. What about Rex?”

    “He’s the fattest. You’re taller.” At five foot five, it was hard for me to ever imagine being the tallest person anywhere.

    “OK. Now ask me a broad question.”

    “I got one. What is the most important thing in America?”

    “That’s pretty easy. Self-reliance. No doubt about it.”

    “What does that mean?”

    “It means that when you strip away everything that you think is American, clothes, religion, jazz music, movies, TV shows, comedy, attitudes, . . . the thing you have left is that we all want the power to take care of themselves and NOT have anyone mess with us. All of that stuff comes from that. That’s what I think. What about Dog Island?”

    “I would say . . . Always do your duty.”

    “And what does that mean to you?”

    “Once we know something is the right thing to do, you can’t stop us from doing it.”

    “How do you know what’s right?”

    “We consult our elders, the Empress, and Heaven. In that order.”

    “Parents before God?”

    “The higher level wins in a fight. Usually they’re all in line.”

    “Ah. Who’s the Empress?”

    “The founder of order on the Island.”

    “Are there writings of hers?”

    “More like sayings. I’m working on it. I'm gathering them.”

    “Your history job?”

    “Right. AND I’m also working on the island’s own fairy tale. Maybe I’ll tell you it sometime?”

    “I’d like to hear it. So tell me, why is the island’s ‘Selfish Demon Child’ in charge of its history?”

   “I don’t know exactly. But I know it’s my duty.” Change of topic. “Hey, you said my mother and I could visit you in Los Angeles. Were you serious about that? I’d REALLY like to visit America, or anyplace. . .”

    “I have a spare bedroom and a couch in the living room that can sleep two, so no problem. You guys just have to get your boat and plane tickets.”

    “Is your home a cottage like the ones we have?”

    “It’s a three-bedroom apartment in a multi-family building.”

    “What’s a multi-family building?”

    “A large building with living quarters for, in my case, 24 families.”

    “Isn’t that a problem?”

    “How so?”

    “Do you have the rule where a man cannot sleep under the same roof with a woman unless she is his wife or kinsman?”

    “What? Heavens no! That’d never work. Is that really the law here? What if you have a male visitor?”

    “That’s like our Rule #1, after doing your duty of course. You’re in the guest cottage. Rex sleeps in his building. Other than that we never see men here. The sailors sleep on their boat. If we had others I guess we would send them to The Outside.”

    “So they sleep outside? I guess it’s warm enough all the time, but what if it rains?”

    “I think you should probably ask Auntie Lee any more of those questions.”

    “Hey, are you good at navigating the raft and holding it in one spot?”

    “Of course I am.”

    “How would you like another job just for this week? It would be helpful to have a raft pilot while I’m working on the lake.”

    “What’s the pay?”

    “I start bush pilots, using my vessel, at  $100 an hour American. Only time underway. I don't pay for standby. If the maiden trip is good, renegotiate. I don’t have cash. You’ll have to take payment by electronic fund transfer, provided you have a checking account.”

    “You just bought yourself a pilot, Mister.”

    “Qin Qin, no. This is what you say: ‘Can’t do it for less than $200. I’ve got taxes and expenses to cover.’ Say it.”

    “I can’t do it for less than $200. I’ve got taxes and expenses to cover.”

    “What taxes? You’re only 16! And expenses for what? Wear and tear on a push-pole? How about you do it for $150 an hour? I’ll also expect you to bring me lunch.”

    “Can I say ‘yes’ now?”

    “If you think you can push me up farther, no. Just don’t EVER give someone their first asking price. Make 'em move at least once.”

    “$175. I’m the best you’re going to find on the island at that price.”

    “Excellent improv, my dear. You’ve signaled finality. Deal. Let’s get to work. Let’s see now if you are good enough to keep the job. . .”

Personal Journal Entry

U.S. Time:  Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Island time:  Dragon, Month 5, Day 16, Xingqi 4, day after the full moon

Project Date:  Week 2, Day 4

Qin Qin observed me writing in my journal. She practically ordered me to express the date in Dog Island time. When I asked why, she said she thought it would be important later and that it would get me in synch with the citizens. I thought it was a good point so, we are in the year of the Dragon, the Fifth Month, Day 16, Fourth Day of the week, one day after the full moon. Whew!

We knocked off of work early that day. Rather, I chose to stop early because there was something I wanted to do and someone I wanted to talk to. I followed a dirt path that Qin Qin had pointed out to me. It rose slightly and led me toward huge patch of towering bamboo. “Follow the smell” she had said and I would get there she had assured me. She also told me I was still encompassed in the Fire Domain, so I would not run afoul of Lee’s boundary restrictions.

Sure enough I came upon a clearing where there was situated a large, two-chambered oven or kiln structure, fashioned from interlocking stones. There was some slight smoke seepage from the stack. It was a highly controlled burn that was apparently going on. A woman I judged to be in her early 50s, roughly the same age as Lee, was tending the oven, kneeled on the ground and inserting some more fuel to smolder.

I saw a large stump to one side and took a seat and removed my hat and glasses. I did not want to interrupt her. She was wearing a black tunic and a black knee-length skirt. Her red-brown hair was done in an enormous braid that doubled back on itself down her back. She was wearing a wide-brimmed field hat. I believe those are called douli. She eventually came to a pause in her activities and caught sight of me. She nodded. I nodded back. When she figured out that I was not going to leave, she approached.

She stood in front me of, crossed her arms, shifted her weight to one leg, and waited expectantly, then cocking her head as if to signal me.

I stood up, bowed, faced away from her and started pacing back and forth talking to the air. “Yes. Well. Clete, I say to myself, you find yourself in quite an interesting situation. You've been threatened practically with death by Lee not to start a conversation with any inhabitants, so what do you do to get them to talk to you. I guess you gotta just talk to the goddamn fuckin' air waving your hands like a mad man until someone feels goddamn sorry for you. But is that really any way to . . . "

    “Qin was right. You ARE pretty tricky at skirting regulations.”

    “So that was a test?”

    “You passed. All right Dr. Wong. You are now legal. What brings you here?” I was told by Qin Qin that Lian was her mother's name. This lady had a matter-of-fact professional pushiness like the supermarket checkout clerk whose line I always made a point to pass through. Fortunately for Lian, the checkout clert was someone I liked.

    “First off, your daughter sent me here with this. A thermos of burnt-rice water. It’s still hot.”

    “Wonderful! Just the thing. Take a capful,” she said unscrewing the top pouring the mildly brown and pasty liquid into the top and handing it to me. Down the hatch it went.

    “I remember this stuff.” Lian She was tossing the rest down her throat as I looked up. My mom would turn the heat up when cooking a pot of rice to create a brown crust. She’d scoop out and serve rice for the meal, but then she’d boil water and pour it in on the burnt-rice crust to soften it up and scoop out and eat like a palate cleanser at the end of meal. The resulting water had this bitter note but a slightly nutty taste.

    “I am Lian. Qin Qin’s mother. I really needed that! This heat! But it smells so fine, don't you  think?” Her face was flushed red, but I could tell she was quite lightly complected, her skin, though smudged with ash, would probably be thought porcelain white by many.

    “Hardwood fuel?”

    “You have a keen nose doctor. Yes. Trimmings from the densest trees in The Grove. Great for slow fires.”

    “You’re not firing pottery are you?”

    “Oh no, not at all. Although I could, if we had clay. Big ‘if’ since there are no ancient riverbeds here. I usually make bamboo charcoal for all of us. Bamboo grows out of control here. I only do it three times a year—you have to almost camp out next to the kiln and watch it to make sure you don’t turn it all into ash.”

    “I’ve only read about this kind of carbonization process. This is fascinating. Why do you get to do the dirty work?”

    “Let us just say that tasks that fall under the Fire Element are my responsibility, and that of my daughter.”

    “I apologize. I probably hired your helper away from you.”

    “Don't worry about it. She mopes half the time I use her for charcoal duty. She is at some times less useful here than being absent. More trouble than help.”

    “I actually find her to be quite industrious and very meticulous. I have set her to recording my readings as I dictate them.”

    “Find her industrious do you? My congratulations to you. Nothing has caught her attention like you have. She talks endlessly about your work.”

    “And, thank you for preparing these last three lunches.”

    “Thank Qin Qin. I made the first. She made the last two. I told her I was not bound by her contract, so she has to get up earlier and prep it.”

    “Ah.”

    “But you know what? She’s NOT a cook! That’s why you impress me Dr. Wong. And now you have doing kitchen work. Happily.”

    “In any case, she’s as fine as any research assistant I’ve hired in the past.” And then I gave a dramatic pause. Picking back up, “Except for her eyesight. That’s really why I’ve come here.”

    “Oh, well. That.” Mood change to dark noted. Her gaze shifted to the ground.

    “Am I interrupting your work?”

    “This is a good time. I simply monitor smoke and temperature at this point. Shall we sit? My knees are tired.”

    “Mine too. Been standing all day.” We took a seat side-by-side on a large log. We sat in silence for what seemed like an hour. She broke first.

    “Do you smoke?” she asked.

    “No. Need a cigarette?”

    “I like one whenever I can find one, which is never. I like lighting a match, watching the slow burn, fall of the ash, and the feathery smoke rise. Tobacco smoke is actually quite sweet, don’t you think?”

    “I never thought about it. My dad used to smoke. Guess it is. Sweet, that is. That’s why people like it. I guess you really ARE a fire elemental.”

    “I always ask Lee to order me cigarettes, but she never does. Says they’ll kill me. Kill ME. Ha. Like it would. I’m the Fire Maiden!”

    “Come to think of it, I totally forgot. I have a couple cartons of Marlboros back at the cottage. You can have them if you want.”

    “Wow! Excellent! What’s a nonsmoker doing with a lot of cigarettes?”

    “Trading stock. My work takes me places around the world. I find most places that are NOT the U.S. everybody likes to smoke. It’s a handy business calling card. I only have one official contact here—and as you say, she doesn’t smoke. So, they never made it out of the duffel.”

    “HA! She is ANTI-smoke. But what do you expect from the Water Princess? Smoke is inescapable here with all the charcoal and wood fires we have. But combustible materials are plentiful here, at least for the current population, small as it is.”

    “Ever consider shipping in compressed natural gas? You could get rid of the smoke problem. Improve your quality of life. I could give you a bid.”

    “Spend money on bringing in a heat source? That is just not an option for us. We get by. Like we have for centuries here. And what is this with a bid? I thought you were a teacher.”

    “That’s not the only thing I do.”

    “Whatever. Making sure we have light and heat that we can afford is my job here. Do not think that I have not considered other options.”

    “You like your work then?”

    “I like it like I like my body or the weather. It just is. Are you going to say something further? About my daughter’s eyesight?”

    I cleared my throat. “I thought I was the friggin' American here. You get right to it."
    "We can be pretty blunt on Dog Island. Some of us anyway."
    "I would like to provide my employee with some better glasses so that she can better perform her duties.” More thoughtful silence. Wait for the response. She dropped her head and then looked up with a contemptuous smile.

    “You are very good. You know nothing about us, and yet you are so good. How do you do it?”

    “Do what?”

    “Cause trouble. There are so many ways you could have approached that.”

    “You’ve been talking to Lee.”

    “My heavens have I been talking to LEE! She said it was only a matter of time . . .”

    “About what?”

    “Never you mind.”

    “Hear me out. I have a proposal. I will pay for Qin Qin’s and your travel to Hawaii, and lodging, to have her go see an optometrist and get fitted with a current prescription that fits her face. I e-mailed my eye doctor and he has given me a referral in Honolulu. If you prefer another provider, that’s fine. Give me the OK and I will call for a boat tomorrow and will make the arrangements at your convenience.”

    “Dr. Wong!” She stood up.

    “Lian, you’re upset. Did I say something wrong?”

    “How can you even ask me that?”

    “It’s only a suggestion. . .”

    “How can I put this . . .” Heavy sigh, “Yes, but it’s also an assumption . . .”

    “I’m not assuming anything. I just see that the girl has glasses that don’t fit her head . . .”

    “BECAUSE . . .” She thought I could fill in the blank.

    I stood up and matched her stance. “I DON’T KNOW THE REASON . . .” I checked myself. “Sorry, I need to lower my voice. It’s none of my business, but she’s doing work for me and it would be better if she could see. It's a no-brainer! World peace is hard to solve, but this one is easy! Get the kid some new glasses! It’s just a few hundred dollars! Can we sit down? My ankles hurt.” We went back down. What was going wrong? I thought. Shit, I just stepped waist-deep in personal-pride crap. I probably just fuckin' told her she's a bad mother."

    “Did you tell her you’d be talking to me about this?” asked Lian.

    “No. What do you take me for? Gimme some credit." 

    “Thank the gods that you have at least that much restraint. Lee was right.”

    “What are getting so pissed off for? I’m trying to come up with something . . .”

    “Her work for you will be done in four days will it not?”

    “The lake work. I would like to continue using her if that is permitted. For other tasks.”

    “She can continue to work for you, but I am sorry, Dr. Wong, I cannot allow her to make such a trip.”

    “If I may say, I think that having a new pair of glasses will alleviate . . .”

    “You’re very generous doctor. And I know you mean well. But it cannot be.”

    “Would it be rude for me to ask why?”

    She took on a weary look. “I will just say that there are others on this island that I have to live with. For her to receive such an obvious favor would be . . . problematic.”

    “But the way I see it, it is not a favor. She is one down from the others, whoever THEY are. To correct her vision only brings her to normalcy.”

    “But YOU are paying for it.”

    “She has a payroll account with me now. She can afford her own glasses with money she has fairly earned. This is not charity.”

    “Lee told me you are a very smart man with an answer for everything. I . . . am not so smart. But my one answer that I can give is firm. We cannot leave this island.”

    “Lian . . . come on. What is this resistance? I am talking about . . .” I sense her relenting.  OK Lian, you’ve been playing a nice hardball, wounded-pride game. I just need you to hit me hard one more time and then I’m going to return fire and slam down my it’s-in-her-best-interest guilt-trip trump on you and get you guys off to Hawaii next week. . .

    “Wong, why is this important to you? I NEED to hear this.”

    “I want her to see clearly for her to work for me, but I’ve come to like your daughter. She’s bright, clever, and a nice person to have around. Is it a custom of this island to NOT want to do something nice for someone you like?”

    “Shit. Why does this have to come out of you? Dr. Wong, please, do not pursue this. But let her continue to work for you. It means a lot to her, and because of that, to me. You’re good for her. I really cannot discuss it further.”

    Lian’s tone and stance had been hard, dismissive, indifferent, even blasé to me, up to this point. I don’t think she meant to do it, but she played her motherly face. Showed me her “big” brown eyes. When that happens in meetings—this was a negotiation, right?—I always “lower my guns” with that tactic, dammit.

    “All right, fine. Not another word. I should not meddle. I apologize if I’ve caused you trouble. I’d best be going.” I rose to leave.

    “Thank you for your concern, Dr. Wong.”

    “I just want you to know, this is strictly business. I’m NOT the caring type. You can call my assistant who will vouch for that and she will give you references from several of my business associates.”

   “I admire someone frankly assesses himself. It shows character. And I believe I can trust myself to know that you are an inconsiderate boor without a running a background check, Dr. Wong.”

    “So glad we’re clear on that. I know you won’t do it, but call me Clete. I prefer being a first-name basis with people I irritate. I’m going now.”

    “Thank you Clete.” I turned and Qin Qin was standing before me.

    “How long have you been there young lady?” I asked.

    “Just got here. Dinner break mother. Stew is on the brazier back at the house. I started it at noon so it should be all ready. I gave it a taste and it’s good.”

    “Darling?” Lian seemed overwhelmed.

    “I’ll watch the smoke and the thermometer until you get back. Now that you know each other, why don’t you take Dr. Wong to eat it with you? I even made enough so that I asked Auntie Lum and Xiao Mei over to entertain Dr. Wong too. He’s going to be in their domain next, so he has to meet them anyway, right? Ask him anything about California and you don’t have to say a word because he’ll talk forever. Take as long as you want. I’ve got this covered; I even wore my canvas blacks and brought my gloves. I’ll even take the night’s first watch if you want a long rest. Yi said she she’d keep me company too.”

I have found that parents give off a certain vibe when their child does something impressive that totally rearranges the script that they have in mind for him or her. I have seen this when first-generation-in-college students of mine present learned papers at symposia at which their parents are in attendance to witness for the first time these academic maiden flights. I recognized Lian as having that kind of reaction. It’s a combination of disbelief, horror, envy, and pride. I grabbed Lian’s elbow and started her back down the path home.

    “OK, Qinnie, just to bring you up to date, your mother has now scientifically confirmed Lee’s hypothesis that I am a rude, brash, clueless, American asshole who always says the wrong thing, and Lee’s not just raving. So Lian, let’s do what I do with Lee, call a truce and go eat, and not let the little girl’s good turn go to waste, shall we?”

    “MY daughter, that lazy demon, she never does anything. And yet she is volunteering for charcoal duty? Fully prepped? How does this even happen? What did you do to her?”

    “Enjoy it. In my schoolteacher experience, you can only coast on schoolgirl infatuation for a few weeks, then the cynicism and treachery starts. You got soot on your nose by the way."
    "Soot? Shut up!" said Lian.
    "Don't worry, it's cute. And," I said, "I’m just itching to hear from an expert all about the processes of anaerobic combustion of organic materials over a good hot stew . . . Time to go, Lady.” I thought to myself that it’s probably best to assume that Qin Qin heard every word and harass me with it on me one of these days. She is definitely the daughter I never had.

    “Oh, Clete.” Lian sounded a little more relenting.

    “What?”

    “Do you mind if we stop your place for those Marlboros first?”