Is anybody out there? Hello? Oh, it's Labor Day Weekend. Everybody's at the beach or attending a barbecue someplace ...
Well, when and if you eventually get around to reading this, you'll find it's basically the part of the standard story formula after the "Boy Meets Girl" phase, namely the "Boy Gets Blue Balls" phase.
There's a remark between the characters here about happy endings in Chinese fairy tales. Those stories about dragons, judges, exorcists, demons, ghosts, and whatnot, are heavy influences on me if you couldn't tell. If you haven't read many, you should, but the endings never wrap up cleanly. When I was small, I hated them because of that. But later realized the "unhappy" ending always make you think about the story more. If only one of the earlier steps were different, it would have been better for everybody. They invite you to be a story-writer.
So, you are probably wondering whether this story will have a happy or an unhappy ending. We're many weeks away, but I will let drop here that there that I'm not sure myself, so there will be both an unhappy and a "happy" ending and I will give you both. But eventually I'll have to pick one. The happy ending is already written. The unhappy one is being worked out in my brain as a ride the train home from work every day. But hold on, we'll get there.
And so we continue. The story:
I declared the post-film discussion over coffee to be done
and advised Feng that I would then take her home. Everybody piled back into the
jeep and we returned to Feng and Wen’s cottage. It was silent as we made our
way back over the bumpy dirt perimeter road, but it was a contented, restful,
thoughtful silence. I parked and Feng waited for me to come around and offer my
hand to assist her in alighting. We walked to her screened in porch and stood
there to talk just a bit. I looked around. We were by ourselves.
“We seemed to have lost the class,” I
said. “I know they got out of the back of the jeep. I heard them.”
“I am sure they are nearby,” said Feng. “I
suspect the older ones have instructed the younger ones to stay back. I owe you
an answer to any question that you want to ask, Dr. Wong. Now would be a good
time.”
“I don’t need you to tell me anything you
don’t want to offer.”
“That hardly seems fair. You’ve disclosed
much more about yourself than I ever would have asked.”
“Would you agree that sometimes a story
needs to come out of you? Whether you want it to or not?”
“Yes.”
“There has never been anyone for me to
tell that to. And telling something like that comes much more easily, when you
know you’ll probably never see the listener again.”
“So you think you will never see me
again?”
“After I leave, no. You have your life
here. I’ll probably never be approved for another visit. I seem to be nothing
but trouble here.”
“You ARE making the case for denial quite
easy.” She paused. “Wen’s sire is the scion of an old Dog Island family who
once had the responsibility for maintaining our rice terraces before the Great
Earthquake and Surge put them under the sea. We were never married. He is in
fact lawfully married to a wife with whom he has three grown children at this
time. They all live in Protectorate territory.”
“Wow,” was the only thing that could come
out of my mouth. “Feng, you don’t …”
“Do you think poorly of me now?”
“Are you still in contact?”
“Not since Wen was conceived.”
“He knows she exists?”
“He does.”
“He has offered no support.”
“I have forbidden it as a member of the
Royal Family. As you might imagine, this situation is … awkward.”
“Do you want to be with him? If he had no
wife, I mean.”
“No.”
“Wen knows who he is?”
“Yes.”
“Does it matter what I think? About you?”
“I would like to hear it.”
“What I think … is that I had a lot of fun
with you tonight. If we were in Los Angeles, I’d ask you out for real.”
“And I think I would probably say yes.”
“Probably?”
“You need to work on your opening.”
“Oh and now you’re an expert?”
“I learn fast. Thank you, Clete.”
“We are both people with a history. It’s
embarrassing not to have a history when you get to our age though. It means you
haven’t lived.”
“Indeed. Thank you for telling me your
story. It was sad though.”
“What are you talking about? It had the
typical happy ending for a Chinese fairy tale.”
“Happy ending?”
“The demon girl goes away and the son
becomes a scholar! Turn in your Chinese ID Card right now. I’m confiscating
it.”
We both had a good laugh at that.
“There’s something I’ve wanted to do all
night,” I said.
“What?”
I reached up to her hair ornament.
“I get the feeling if I simply pull out
this rod, something interesting will happen.”
“No,
don’t …”
The great knot that held all of her hair on top of her head,
fell down about her like a great waterfall of hair. It was a marvel. I expected
her hair to hold a wave, but no, the weight of all of it pulled it long and
straight.
“Wow,” I said.
“Your second use of that word tonight. You
need to expand your vocabulary Dr. Wong.”
“It shines in the waning moonlight. I’m
impressed.”
“So glad you approve. I suppose it had to
come down at some point tonight. That is a certain weave and braid we have
developed here which is all held by one pin. ” She threw her head back to get
strands out of her eyes. “Are we done then?” she asked.
“There is a finishing move. And the man
makes it at a certain peril.”
“Peril?”
I took her hands
into mine.
“It’s just like the first approach and
gambit. He has to read the woman correctly to see if it will be well received.”
“I see. And what is the peril?”
“If he does it wrong, she won’t want to
see him again.”
“Well, seeing as how we will be together
here on this Island for another several … mmmmph …”
Taking her hands was purposeful. She could not raise them to
slap me as I put my mouth to hers. I could swear I heard some squealing in the
vicinity—probably the Seconds. I had moved in easy and gently. The taste of her
lips brought back a replay of everything we had consumed together that evening.
Tea. Coffee. Sugar. Salt. Tomato and basil. And definitely the taste of Feng.
She did not pull away. I let her hands go so that the slap could come.
Thankfully, it did not.
“So that’s what it’s like to kiss a
princess,” I said.
“Is it disappointing?”
“I’m just glad I didn’t turn into a frog. On
the contrary, it’s VERY nice. For someone who spent nearly two decades in a
colony of women and girls, you’re a natural at this.”
“I think I need to study this sensation a
bit more. . . for education sake? Do you mind?”
“To higher ed and social science.” I
needed no additional prompting, but I thought we needed some privacy for
further exploration. “Let’s move to the back of the cottage where it’s a little
darker and away from prying eyes.”
I led her by the hand around to the rear. It had been years since I
held someone like this. It’s surprising what the arms and hands remember how to
do. We leaned in close to each other. I put my arms about her and kept my hands
on shoulders and back. Natural instinct was kicking in on her too. Our kissing
became deeper and intense. I pulled away for a moment.
“Clete. That is so . . .”
“It’s strange. Suddenly you smell, . . .
wonderfully tasty.” She pulled me back into her for another round. After a bit,
she broke off and pushed me off a bit.
“Oh God, Clete! What’s happening to me? I
feel, I feel . . .”
“Maybe we ought to … to step back into the
light?”
“Oh GOD, no. This was a bad idea. A REALLY
bad idea! Wen? WEN! Get over here.” She put her hand to her chest.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Mother? Is something the matter?” It was
Wen who was by us almost immediately. She must’ve been close by.
“You need to take me in the house. Now.
Good night Clete. It was wonderful, really, but I have to go. I cannot be in
your presence for another moment. No, dear, not inside. Take me to water. I
need to cool down. I am so hot! To the bathhouse.”
As Wen guided her mother away she made a gesture to the other girls who
were still out of sight. I’m not sure what it was but it had the nature of a
fist pump. It had indeed been a pleasant evening. Topped off as it were with at
least the motions of physical pleasure. But I stood there feeling somewhat
empty and hungry. This, I now remembered, is what I hated about dates. It just
filled you with a sense of unfulfilled longing and physical frustration. A
voice of disapproval sounded off behind me and brought me back into the moment.
“What did you do to her?” It was Lee.
“I just kissed her goodnight.”
“You KISSED her?”
“It’s customary to end a date on a kiss.
For educational purpose, I assure you.”
“What is the meaning of all this anyway?
What possessed you to run this … what’s the word in English? Charade?”
“You want to know what started all of
this? You. She originally came to me with a question about you.”
“And Feng learned that you are trouble.”
“I didn’t intend for it to turn out that
way.”
“This is not your hometown. Nobody knows
how to react to you. You need to take others into account.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to do better next time.”
“So. You enjoy kissing her?”
“A gentleman does not talk about his
female companions, especially regarding such things.”
“I am glad to hear that you have some
restraints. You said she originally came to you asking a question about me.
What did she ask?”
“She asked me what my intentions are with
you.”
“Your intentions?”
“She was concerned that I seem to spend a
lot of time with you.”
“Why would that concern her? She’s one of
the ones who assigned me to monitor you! I am supposed to spend a lot of time
with you! To make sure you stay out of trouble.”
“I told her that exactly.”
“What an IDIOT! And tonight I leave you
alone, at her asking, and look what happens to her. She gets all emotionally
overworked and over-stimulated. Ha! She is like a civet in heat now. It is her
own fault. I do not feel sorry for her.”
“I think . . .” I added a high note of
conjecture into my tone, “that she feared that I might be manipulating your
emotions and setting you up for a heartbreak.” Lee’s mouth opened so wide that
I thought everything around us would fall in.
“THAT GIRL! She think she so smart!
Smartest one of all of us. She fall into her own insecurity!”
“Lee, you’re getting excited. Your verb
forms are going plural. . .”
She decided to curse me in Cantonese. I’m sure she selected
it because that’s what my people speak. God I love the sound of southern
Chinese dialects in heightened emotion. It’s like the climax of the “Hallelujah
Chorus.” I think I got called a “rotten turtle egg” somewhere in there. The
insult is not so much the content as the delivery. She eventually finished.
“Lee, what are you doing here anyway? How
did you get down her so fast from your place?”
“I was in the back of the jeep with all
the girls. Such a bad driver. You weren’t even paying attention to your
passengers. I needed to see if you can drive my jeep in the dark.”
“Did I pass the driving test?”
“NO!
I am driving back. You almost rolled us. You come along while I shut down the
generator.”
“Why do you need my help? You’ve been
doing that for decades.”
“I do NOT need your help. What I need to
make sure of is that you do not go anywhere near Feng. You are to be watched
tonight. You will help clean up the porch and cooking area too. I will not be
getting any sleep tonight it appears. Get moving.”
“Actually I think Wen was taking her to the
bathhouse or the lake. You’re treating me like a child boy.”
“Act like one, get treated like one.” Lee
gathered Ling into the jeep and we started toward the utility station. “What
did you tell her your intentions were with me?”
“I see my main job here is to make you
happy.”
“HAH! Congratulations, you have made me
laugh—for once.”
“Ah, you’re getting used to me. See, I
figure that if I continue to conduct myself as I have, on the day after I
leave, you will feel like you have died and gone to the Pure Land.”
“And may that day come sooner than later!
What kind of drinks were you concocting at my house tonight?”
“Instant coffee. If you’re going to stand
guard duty over me all night, I’ll make you some.”
© Copyright 2012 by Vincent Way, all rights reserved.