by Don Winslow
We climbed and climbed! I saw so many wonderful sights! Wild rivers, sheer cliffs, lovely pavilions from which you could see forever. The walk became harder and steeper, and the monk strapped spikes to my shoes so I could climb through the ice and snow. The first night we stayed at a monastery. I went into the temple and found Kuan Yin and sat with her for hours and my mind was at peace. I got up that morning ready for the climb. We walked along narrow paths across deep canyons. To fall would mean death, but I was not afraid.
At last we reached the top. There was a large beautiful temple there, and we slept there before making the final short walk to Buddha’s Mirror, because the monk said it was best to go at dawn.
We were off before the sunrise, and sitting at the edge of the great cliff as the sun appeared on the eastern horizon. The world became red and then gold, and finally we stood up and looked over the edge and I saw … saw my sister, and I knew that I would never be at true peace while her soul was tortured. It was the vision Kuan Yin had given me. It was Mother telling me to purge my hatred and save my sister.
The monk took me to a monastery on the far western side of the mountain, far away from anything. He brought me before an old nun, who asked me to tell my story. I told her everything. When I had finished, she said I could stay. She gave me a little room and some plain clothing. I had a job in the kitchen, carrying water, gathering wood … later, cooking … cleaning bowls and cups. I sat with Kuan Yin every morning and every night. Later I studied all the Buddhist arts—t‘ai chi, kung fu. I began to paint again. I was very happy.
I stayed there for almost four years.
Then Father returned from prison.
One day I came to the kitchen, and a monk I didn’t recognize was there. He was from lower down the mountain. He said that there were soldiers going from monastery to monastery looking for Xao Lan, searching cells, breaking things. Was I, perhaps, this Xao Lan? I admitted that I was. I asked who was behind this, did he know? Yes, it was Xao Xiyang, the new county commissar from Dwaizhou, a powerful official. He wanted his daughter back.
You see, Deng had been rehabilitated and slowly, slowly he began to locate his allies and supporters, including Father. The idea was to eventually gather them in Sichuan, to build a power base there to continue the reforms that had been destroyed by the Cultural Revolution. Father was on the rise again! But he was turning the Silkworm’s Eyebrow upside down to find me.
The old nun left it up to me. She said that they would do their best to hide me, if that was my wish. I was so torn! I loved my life on the mountain and I loved my father. I wanted to be away from the cares of the world, but I wanted to help Father’s reforms. I prayed to Kuan Yin, but I knew the answer. Father would never stop, and I could not hurt the people who had rescued me, given me a shelter and a home. I went down the mountain with the monk and turned myself over to the soldiers. But it broke my heart to say good-bye to the mountain I loved so much.
I was overjoyed to see Father again, but there was great sadness between us. Mother’s death, my sister’s betrayal. I asked Father if he had found her. When he didn’t answer, I became frightened. I asked again. Finally he said yes, he had found her—she was dead. She had been killed in the fighting at the Chengdu factory. Now I was the only daughter, he said, and I had to live for both.
Then Father surprised me. He said I must leave China. He had lost all his family to China, except me, and he couldn’t stand the thought of losing me as well. He said I must go away until the country was safe to have a family. I argued, I cried, I begged, but Father was firm. I asked if I could go back to the mountain, but Father said that no place within China was safe. I must go away.
We spent but a few days together. Then we said good-bye and I was taken secretly to Guangzhou and put aboard a junk. I was smuggled into Hong Kong much the way you were smuggled out. I was put onshore at the typhoon shelter at Yaumatei, and that neighborhood became my new home.
But how to live? Yaumatei was very dangerous for a single young woman without connections. But Father had seen to that. I was soon visited by a local 14K Triad member. I knew nothing about Triads then, but this man told me that 14K was closely allied with mainland China, that I did not have to worry about my safety. He gave me money to live on. I thought about what I wanted to do. All I knew to do was to paint, but I could not use my own name for fear of damaging Father. I took my mother’s name, Li, a very common one in China. And I did begin to paint. The freedom of Hong Kong was wonderful, and my painting began to thrive. I saw new possibilities, new forms, new colors. And there was no one watching over me to tell me what I could do or not do. I was lonely, but I was happy.
Then I met Robert. Robert had come on a holiday … let me see … two years ago? We met at the opening of a new office building where I had done murals. Robert’s company was doing business with a Hong Kong company, and—
Neal tightened his grip on her shoulder.
“Wait a second,” he said. “You met in Hong Kong? Not In San Francisco?”
“Hong Kong.”
“You told me San Francisco before.”
“Yes.”
“Are you lying now or were you lying before?” She covered his hand with hers. “I was not in bed with you before.”
“Was it love at first sight?” Neal asked. “With Pendleton?” She hesitated before answering, “For him.” Neal’s chest hurt. “But not for you?”
It seemed to take her about a week to answer, “No, not for me.” He was surprised to find himself using interrogation techniques with her, varying the pace of his questions, or using silences to hype her anxiety. Was it just habit, he wondered, or did he still consider her the adversary, this woman who was lying in his bed? He waited for her to go on.
“We were together perhaps one week,” she said, “before Robert had to go home. He was very sad to say good-bye, and I promised I would write.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, I promised! He wrote back, or sometimes telephoned. Then … I was contacted by a Triad leader. He had a message from Father. Father said that Robert’s knowledge would be very valuable to China.”
“I’ll bet.”
“He asked me to ‘nurture’ my relationship with Robert and persuade him to come to China.”
A goofy symmetry occurred to Neal: Li Lan’s father summoned her to talk Pendleton into going to China; Neal’s “Dad” got him to persuade Pendleton to go home.
“At first I refused. I wanted nothing more to do with politics. My life was so happy. I sent a message back begging Father to release me from this request.”
I did a little begging myself. Did you do any better at it than I did? And what card did your father play?
“Then Father sent back the message that persuaded me. My sister was alive.”
The ace of hearts.
“Sister was alive, but in prison. Robert was to be the price of her release.”
Family is fate.
“I could not then refuse. It was my duty, and the fulfillment of the vision Kuan Yin had shown me in the Buddha’s Mirror. I could not realize my true self until I confronted the face of my sister. I could not be released until she was free.
“Through Chinese agents in Hong Kong, I received more training. Training was easy for me because of my Buddhist discipline. I continued to write Robert. Then he wrote saying that he was coming to California. Would I meet him there? I told Father this news. He urged me to go. ‘Now is the time,’ he said.
“I had met Olivia Kendall in Hong Kong some time before. She liked my painting and had invited me to have a showing at her gallery. I wrote to her and accepted. I met Robert at his conference.”
“And everything was working out just fine until Mark Chin showed up.”
“We went to Olivia’s. And then you came.”
“So now they have Pendleton, and you have your sister back, and you can both go back to being Daddy’s good little girls.”
“Hong will be released when Robert begins his work here
. Robert is in hiding, and we will only bring him out when it is safe.”
“When will that be?”
“When you leave.”
Ouch.
He traced the bones in her fingers and was surprised when she did the same on his other hand. “Let’s be grown-ups here for a minute,” he said. “You and I and all your buddies know that—once I’m home—there’s nothing to stop me from telling everything I know.”
She gripped his hand. “They would kill me.”
That would stop me.
“They’re bluffing.”
“‘Bluffing’?”
“Making an empty threat.”
She squeezed tighter. “I am a hostage to your honor.”
Boy, are you in trouble.
“Wouldn’t it be safer just to have me killed?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why you came to tell me your story? So I would understand? Sympathize?”
“Yes.”
He swallowed hard before asking the next question. “So you made love to me to improve the odds, is that it?”
She whispered the answer in his ear. “No. I made love with you because I wanted to make love with you.”
So there it was. The deal was pretty clear. Her life for his, his life for hers. Talk about symmetry. Talk about Buddha’s Mirror.
“I have to ask you something,” he said. “Is Pendleton a volunteer? Does he want to be here, or is he a prisoner?”
“Does this make a difference?”
“It makes all the difference. You have to understand that if Pendleton wants to go home, I have to help him. I can’t stay silent. So if that’s the case, let’s find a way to get all three of us out of here.”
“Robert is very happy. He has his work. He has me.”
Then Robert is very happy.
“That brings up another ugly question. Just what is Robert’s work?”
She looked at him oddly, an I-thought-you-knew-this-already look. “To make things grow.”
“And he’s worth all this? Just because he can make things grow?”
“You have not seen hunger.”
This is true, Neal thought. I always thought I had it tough after midnight when the Burger Joint stopped delivering and I had to walk down there.
“But you must have plenty of agricultural experts here.”
“No. So many were killed! And none with Robert’s knowledge.”
So Pendleton gets to spend the rest of his life growing rice and loving Li Lan. Okay. But what about Li Lan?
“What about you?” he asked.
“What about me?”
“Do you love him?”
“He is good. He is kind. He will do wonderful things for my country.”
“Right. Do you love him?”
She rolled over on top of him, stroking his face as she spoke. “You and I, Neal Carey, we are from different worlds. Your ‘love’ is not our ‘love.’”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
In a lifetime of questions it was the hardest one.
“Do you love me back?”
She looked him in the eyes, and it was heartbreak and grace at the same time. “Yes.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
“I know this, too.”
“How can you send me away?”
“To save our lives.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“To save our souls.”
He saw himself in her eyes. Buddha’s Mirror.
“It is still dark out,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“We have some time.”
He shrugged.
She slid down and took him in her mouth. He tried to focus on his anger and hurt, but soon he turned her around and then he was drinking from her. Then he entered her and they laid side by side.
“Tell me,” he said.
“I love you.”
“Say it in Chinese.”
“Wo ai ni, Neal.”
“Wo ai ni, Lan.”
Their world erupted into the clouds and the rain before they fell asleep. He woke up a while later and listened to her breathing.
Li Lan’s life for my silence, he thought. The Book of Joe Graham, Chapter Eight, Verse Five: Every undercover operation ends in a betrayal. I wonder if Graham expected this one to end in me betraying him and Friends.
It was still dark when he woke her up.
“It’s no good,” he said.
“What is no good?” she mumbled sleepily.
“I have to hear it from him.”
“You are having a dream. Go back to sleep.”
I wish I could, Li. I wish I could put my conscience to sleep, make love with you once more before dawn, and then sleepwalk my way through the rest of this deal. But it is no good. I have to hear from Pendleton that he wants to stay. I was sent to save him from his infatuation, and that’s what I still have to do.
“I have to talk with Pendleton myself.”
“Not possible.”
“He has to tell me himself that he wants to give the rest of his life to this little 4-H project you have cooked up for him.”
She reached between his legs and stroked him. “Do not be so silly.”
He grabbed her wrist and held it still. “Take me to him. Let me talk to him alone for five minutes. If he still wants to stay, okay. I’ll go home and keep my mouth shut. Word of honor.”
He could feel the muscles in her wrist tighten against his hand.
“What if he says he wants to leave?” she asked.
“Will he?”
“No.”
“Then why bring it up?”
She snatched her wrist away and sat up. “What if?”
He looked at the sudden anger in her eyes. It looked odd against her sleepy face and tousled hair.
“Then I have to try to take him home,” Neal answered.
“You do not trust me,” she said.
“Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust anyone.”
He watched as her angry glare turned thoughtful. Then the look became seductive. She was an actress changing emotions for the camera.
“Go home tomorrow,” she said. “I will visit you once a year. For a week in San Francisco. Every year until you are tired of me.”
We’re right back in the hot tub, he thought. Nothing’s changed, including the sorry fact that I want to say yes.
“That’s sick and desperate,” he said.
She jumped out of the bed and grabbed her clothes, throwing them on as she spoke.
“You are the person who is sick and desperate,” she said. “You chase, chase, chase—then, when you are given what you chase, you do not accept. Answers … truth … me. I make this offer to make you happy … to make me happy. Never mind. You have no choice. You do not know where Robert is, where I go. You cannot chase anymore.”
“Lan, I—”
“Go home! That is all! If you say what you know, I will die! Do what you want!”
She stormed out the door.
It took him a few seconds to get his shirt and pants on and follow her. It was still dark and foggy and he could just see her as she passed through the gate into the garden. He ran down the stairs and across the little bridge. When he got through the gate she was gone.
All he could see was fog and the eerie shapes of the garden statues: dragons, birds, and giant frogs. He could hear footsteps ahead of him and he followed the sound. The garden was a maze.
When in doubt, Neal thought, go to Buddha. The gigantic head was about the only thing he could make out in the fog. It glowed palely at the edge of the cliff. He ran for it.
Her black-clad form appeared in stark silhouette against the whiteness of the Buddha’s head, about twenty feet away. She was inching her way along, trying to feel for the railing that led down the stairs.
Neal realized that she was heading down to the river. She had a boat waiting. He couldn’t let her meet it. He broke into a sprint.
The bul
let hit Buddha square in the ear. Li Lan dropped to the ground.
“Shit.”
Neal heard the voice. It was about fifty feet away, in a copse of trees to his right. He peered through the fog but couldn’t see anyone. He lay on his stomach, wishing his breathing didn’t make so much goddamn noise. Li Lan hadn’t gotten up, so she was either hurt or just being smart. Staying flat on his stomach, he crawled to where he had seen her fall.
His hand touched her elbow and she flinched. He grabbed her arm and pulled himself against her.
He heard cautious footsteps. The shooter was maneuvering for a better angle. If he was smart, he’d work his way back onto the path and come straight onto the landing. She heard it, too.
“Are you hurt?” he asked her. It was just the slightest whisper, but it sounded like a PA announcement to him.
She shook her head.
The footsteps stopped.
“You have a boat down there,” he said.
She nodded.
“You can back down the stairs without being seen.”
“There is not the time. He will shoot me on the stairs.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
The footsteps started again, slow and patient.
“Get going,” he said.
“Why would you do this?”
Good fucking question.
“Because you’re going to take me to Pendleton.”
If I live that long.
And you might as well tell the truth as long as you’re probably going to get killed anyway.
“And because I love you. Now crawl backwards onto the stairs. When you’re down to the next landing, get up and make all the noise you can going down. Got that?”
“Yes.”
“Where can I meet you?”
She didn’t answer. The footsteps had stopped. The bastard was in position and just waiting for the right moment. As soon as his quarry flinched, he’d move in for the kill.
“Look,” Neal whispered. “I know where your mountain is. I know it from your paintings. I can track you down, and I won’t give up. It will never stop until you let me speak with Pendleton. Never. Now tell me where I can meet you, and get your ass in gear before we both get killed.”
She squeezed his hand. “At the elephant.”
“Where?”
“You can find it. I will be there.”