by Greg Arritt
Directly opposite the row of houses were some commercial buildings, unremarkable in appearance but noteworthy for historical reasons. As if on cue, Lin Ming resumed her role as tour guide and began reciting a well-practiced monologue. It centered on the Cultural Revolution and the impact it had had on the region. She pointed to buildings had been both defaced and closed during that era of China’s history. The buildings had since been reopened, but not for their original purpose. They were now utilized as the township’s museums. She touted one museum in particular as though it was an indispensable window into China’s culture and past, but in reality, it was a museum dedicated entirely to antique beds. It seemed almost as though it was an afterthought meant to fill space in the township, not that it had any real connection to Wuzhen.
The interior of the museum was nothing more than an open-space warehouse with concrete floors, filled to capacity with antique Chinese beds. The beds were anywhere from one hundred to several hundred years old and were made entirely of wood. They varied from the simplest fabrications to the highly complex designs of a master craftsman. Aside from the absence of a mattress and springs, the one other unusual feature was the foot high rail that bordered each bed with an opening on one side. The beds varied in size from large expensive ones to smaller ones for children, but most were something in between. In spite of a style that looked more like an outdated couch lacking upholstery than an antique bed, they were at one time a commonly sought after piece of furniture. Although the museum housed only antique beds, they were quite effective in provoking thoughts of ancient Chinese life.
Redding questioned the difficulty one would have had trying to sleep on the unforgiving wooden boards, but Lin Ming assured him that the beds provided an enduring rest. She had undoubtedly seen the museum a dozen times before, so she quietly followed Redding as he inspected each exhibit. He criticized a few for their unusual designs and others he praised for their meticulous woodwork, but overall he was taken by the extraordinary strength and beauty of the beds. When they reached the rear of the building, they stepped over an elevated threshold and into an atrium.
The atrium’s placement between the front and rear buildings had struck Redding as unusual at first, until he looked upward and noticed its open air design. Then, it all became clear. The atrium had been purposely placed there to provide an additional source of ventilation and lighting for both buildings.
Across the atrium, they stepped over another threshold and into the rear building, which was slightly smaller than the main building, but the beds it housed seemed to be even more elaborate.
The bed museum had garnered less than a dozen visitors, and all were still in the main building except for Redding and Lin Ming. The two of them had the museum’s rear building all to themselves.
“It’s just unbelievable that people could have actually slept on these beds without any padding.” Redding said. “Didn’t they ever hear of a mattress sale?”
Mostly he was just talking to himself and he wasn’t intending to be funny, but Lin Ming overheard the remark and she started laughing. She quickly raised both hands to her mouth to properly cover her laughter.
Redding reached up and took both of her hands in his and then extended both of his arms slightly outward and downward, drawing Lin Ming in closer. He studied the soft contours of her face and the dark shimmering of her eyes. He tilted his head slightly forward as he slowly circled his arms behind her, bringing her even closer until her soft lips met his. The kiss was tender and sweet, but it lasted no more than a few seconds. There was a shuffling noise coming from the atrium.
“Excuse me!” A masculine voice echoed from inside the atrium.
Lin Ming immediately pulled away and turned as though she was admiring the design of a bed. They looked at each other and, in the brief moment that their eyes met, Redding knew something was wrong. He considered the possibility that he had overstepped his boundaries, but that didn’t make any sense.
As three middle-aged women entered the building chatting in Mandarin, Lin Ming made a move towards the atrium, but Redding was standing in her way.
“Please, I need some fresh air. I can’t breathe in here,” Lin Ming said, as if she were trying to constrain a sense of panic.
He stepped aside and without any further explanation, she bolted toward the museum exit. He followed, but at a decidedly slower pace. He wound his way through the aisles and passed the beds, but still he had no idea why Lin Ming was so upset.
* * *
When Redding found her, she was standing near the canal looking off into the distance. He quietly stood nearby and waited as several minutes passed. He had intended to allow Lin Ming the time she needed, but he couldn’t remain silent any longer.
“Is there something I should know?” he asked. “Like what the hell happened back there?”
Lin Ming looked in both directions along the canal road to make sure no one was close enough that they would be overheard.
“I have never done that before.”
“You’ve never done what before? You mean kiss?” Redding had no sooner asked the question when the realization struck him that it had been her first kiss ever.
He was no stranger to bizarre relationships, but even this exceeded his imagination. He couldn’t fathom the idea that two people could commit themselves to each other in marriage and never have shared a kiss.
“I felt something,” she said, still watching the canal road, making sure that no one came close enough to hear. “It ran through my body and I couldn’t breathe.”
Redding knew exactly what she was talking about. It was the physiology behind the kiss and Lin Ming was ill prepared for its effects.
“Was it sort of a warm, kind of tingling sensation?”
“Maybe, I don’t know,” she said. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”
She continued to stare off into the distance. It wasn’t planned or expected, but it was her first kiss and she needed some time to sort through her feelings.
* * *
The late afternoon shadows had engulfed the street, which made the ancient town seem as if it were hundreds of miles away from civilization. They walked nearly the length of the canal without saying so much as a word to each other.
“Was I wrong to kiss you?”
Lin Ming shook her head.
“Then why did you run away?”
“Please understand. Chinese people do not display their affections in public. It is frowned upon,” she said quietly so that only he would be able to hear.
Her answer was a lame attempt to placate him, and at any other time her comment wouldn’t have been enough. He still had questions, but pressing her for answers was clearly not going to work. She managed a shy smile in an effort to calm him, but that only made him laugh.
At one place along the street there was a passageway between a row of houses that led to a canal ramp. As they passed, Redding inadvertently glanced down the passageway. In that brief moment, he caught a glimpse of someone on the other side of the canal. He shot a second look across to the walkway, but already the individual had disappeared in the crowd. It didn’t matter. Redding saw him well enough that there would be no mistake. It was Joran Hausen. Of course he wouldn’t say anything to Lin Ming, but it was very likely that Joran had been following them the whole day. As repugnant as that idea was, there was nothing that he could do about it, at least for the moment.
There was no possible way that Joran could have thought that Wuzhen was a key component in the search for the painting. That left several other possibilities, but only one made sense. He must have already searched every conceivable location in the old city without any success. So he adopted a new tactic. He was tailing them in hopes that they might lead him to the painting.
Redding’s first impulse was to confront Joran, but other than a verbal standoff he wasn’t sure what it would accomplish. Instead, he decided his most prudent course would be to exercise every possible caution in his search for the pain
ting.
“It is time to leave.” Lin Ming said, as she directed Redding towards their waiting car.
* * *
By the time they returned to Suzhou, the afternoon had faded into evening. He insisted that she have dinner with him, knowing full well that their time together was coming to an end. On his first night venturing out in Suzhou he had come across an Italian restaurant that seemed rather interesting.
The restaurant had a cozy ambiance, with white tablecloths and high-backed chairs. The lights were slightly dimmed and a small candle lantern illuminated each table. The wine was acceptable, the Pasta Parmesan was mediocre, but the meal itself wasn’t really relevant. His intentions had been to recreate that one brief moment that had culminated in the kiss. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything or anyone other than Lin Ming. Over the course of only three days, she had somehow managed to capture his soul.
He wanted to extract every minute out of the evening, but an uncertainty hung in the air. Her time as his tour guide had effectively ended. It seemed unlikely that they would be spending any more time together. If that situation were to change, the onus would be on him.
Chapter Thirteen
They had waited outside of the restaurant for several minutes expecting a taxi, but there were none. The hotel was close enough that he could have walked, but that wasn’t a practical option for Lin Ming. Her family lived some distance from the downtown area and within the last hour dense clouds had obscured the sky, making the night seem unusually dark.
“It’s not necessary for you to wait,” Lin Ming said.
In spite of her assurances that she would be safe, Redding wasn’t having any of it. He insisted that they walk to his hotel where they would certainly find a taxi, but when they arrived the hotel’s apron was empty. When a taxi finally turned into the roundabout, they were locked in an uncomfortable moment of silence. It was as if they both had wanted to say something, but neither could put their thoughts into words.
Redding hated those awkward moments. They seemed to ferment frustration with each obsessive stare. He wanted to ask Lin Ming to stay the night, but for some reason he was struggling to find the right words. His inner voice posed the question several different ways, but each sounded cheap and selfish. He had been with plenty of women before he was married, and a few since his divorce. He had never been shy about posing the question, but it hardly ever had to be asked. Looks were usually exchanged across the table and the evening’s conclusion was understood. Rarely was there any need to clarify either’s intention of sharing themselves with the other.
His nervousness was completely out of character. He wasn’t sure exactly how he should introduce the subject or even ask the question. He just stood there, intermittently staring at Lin Ming.
“Redding, are you all right?”
“Listen, there’s something I want to ask you?” He hesitated. “I want you stay with me tonight?”
“Stay with you? You mean I should sleep with you?”
“Well, yes, that’s part of it, but it’s not just about sleeping together. I want us to be closer. I think about you all the time.” His words sounded empty and he knew it.
Lin Ming turned away as though she was offended, staring off into the emptiness of the night. He wasn’t surprised by her reaction, or even the lack of a response. Still, he wanted to know what thoughts were running through her head. He wondered about the kiss in the bed museum; would it work for him or against him? Most likely, she was trying to formulate a proper, but inoffensive response. She turned back and looked into his eyes before nodding her head in acceptance.
* * *
Not much was said from the time they entered the hotel until they arrived at Redding’s room on the eleventh floor. With the door closed behind them, he pulled Lin Ming close and as he kissed her he felt the shudder that wound its way through her body. He released his embrace, took hold of her hand, and led her into the room. Then, he dimmed the lights and attempted to close the drapes by administering a solid yank, but they didn’t move so much as an inch. After he pulled back and forth, the drapes finally released and eased along the track, blocking out all exterior lighting.
Although his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the dim lighting, he still caught a fleeting view of Lin Ming, completely naked, as she slipped under the covers. He quickly undressed and laid his clothes on an upholstered chair.
Redding knew from the moment he slid into bed next to her that somehow this night would be different. They faced each other and as he moved toward her, she recoiled. Instantly, he sensed the obvious, but unstated notion of reluctance. He slid his arm under the pillow to support his head and then just lay there gazing at her. He said nothing and made no moves toward her. He just bided his time until she was ready to move closer to him. As she approached, he extended his arm across her waist, letting his hand settle against the middle of her back. Gently but firmly, he nudged her closer until he could feel her breath on his face. He leaned forward, kissed her and caressed her body until her shyness fell away. With each embrace, they molded themselves into the void of each other’s shape, eager to answer the heightening fervor. The culmination was a kind of love that was tender, yet intensely passionate. They shared themselves with each other completely, without reservations or boundaries.
* * *
As steam filled the bathroom, they caressed each other in the shower with handfuls of soap, intermittently allowing the warm water to cascade down on them. They had become mindless of the time until the water turned icy cold, which forced them to make a hurried exit.
After returning to the bed, Lin Ming nuzzled in close to Redding and soon fell asleep. As she slept, he lay awake and tried to reconcile his thoughts. They had experienced a closeness that seemed to reach beyond the boundaries of any of his previous relationships. He had been in love before, but somehow this was different. This wasn’t just about feelings or compatibility. It was something more. As if two parts were meant to interact, but individually they were useless. With Lin Ming curled up against him, he knew that their physical interaction had little to do with empty desires.
In the morning, Redding suggested room service for breakfast, but Lin Ming censured the idea with a mere shake of her head. He wasn’t necessarily hungry. He just wanted to spend more time with her. He suggested the buffet on the mezzanine, but that idea was also dismissed. By the time they were dressed it was clear that she had something else in mind.
* * *
The taxi had no sooner merged onto San Xiang Road than it turned away from the boulevard and began coursing through a number of smaller commercial streets. As they continued deeper into another part of Suzhou, Redding wondered about Lin Ming. Specifically, why had she decided to spend the night with him? She hadn’t said anything, one way or the other, but there were several possibilities. He had only started to turn them over in his head when the taxi came to an abrupt stop, directly across from a bakery.
The bakery’s outward appearance was blatantly commercial, but the smell of the fresh baked buns piqued Redding’s interest. The self-serve format of the bakery required patrons to retrieve a plastic tray and tongs and then move along the display case, placing their selected goods on their trays. All of the baked goods looked vaguely familiar but somehow different. It was unlikely that he would ever know what each individual item was unless he asked, only because they had all been tagged with Chinese characters. As he started for a tray, Lin Ming waved him away. She led him past the retail section and into the rear of the store.
The rear portion of the bakery had a traditional appeal that was in stark contrast to its modern retail side. The ornately decorated section held six tables with accompanying barrel-shaped stools. Both the tables and stools were made from a hardwood and finished with a dark reddish stain that accentuated the grain. The pedestal and fascia of the tables had been carved into an ornate design, as were the stools, but in a slightly different pattern. Above each table hung a paper lantern adorned with Chinese characters
and red tassels.
A young woman unceremoniously set a teapot, cups, chopsticks, and paper placemats on the table. Then, she pulled an order pad from her pocket and in an unusually shrill voice, she spoke to Lin Ming. Without even glancing at a menu Lin Ming responded with the items she wanted to order. While still scribbling on her order pad, the woman turned and retreated through the swing doors at the rear of the bakery.
Somewhere near the front of the bakery, loud voices seemed to be embroiled in a slight disturbance. The jarring voices quieted down and Lin Ming excused the matter as insignificant. Apparently, some customers were carelessly dripping water onto the display cases as they folded up their wet umbrellas.
“We’re stuck with a rainy day?” Redding asked. The weather hadn’t even crossed his mind when they left the hotel and neither he nor Lin Ming was prepared for rain.
“Maybe not. Sometimes it drizzles in the morning, maybe a little rain, but then it clears in the afternoon.” Just as Lin Ming finished speaking, the young woman began delivering their breakfast to the table.
It wasn’t exactly a traditional Chinese breakfast, but the meal did consist of Chinese dishes. They shared an egg cake with scallions garnished with a slight amount of chili paste, and they each had a small bowl of hot soymilk that had been sweetened. Lin Ming also ordered one bun filled with barbecue pork for Redding and one with curry chicken for herself.
* * *
After the plates had been cleared away, Redding and Lin Ming remained. As they sipped tea, Redding tried to open a discussion about the two of them. He wanted to know if the previous night had been an aberration or would they continue to see each other. She twisted in her seat uneasily before abruptly changing the subject.
“Maybe you should stay in China? You were so good with the children.”
Her approach was clearly meant as encouragement, but teaching was the farthest thing from his mind. If anything, he was preoccupied with other thoughts, but not just of the previous night. The one overwhelming distraction was his neglect in searching for the painting. So much time had already been lost, time that should have been spent scouring the old city. He flipped over his paper placemat and fished a mechanical pencil out of his coat pocket. Then, he began sketching the outline of a man seated in a chair.