by JJ Chow
Loud music blared down the table. It was a heart-stopping rendition of “Eye of the Tiger.” Winston saw Orchid fish the phone out from her purse and listen.
“Yes, I’m Mrs. Chan,” she yelled into the receiver.
Winston threw his hands in the air and gave up talking. Kristy patted his shoulder and handed out wrapped presents to her bridesmaids. She had decided on refined gifts for the ladies. The women received amethyst bracelets, which matched the color of their dresses.
Kristy motioned to Winston for him to hand out his picks to the men. Inspired by his inner geek, he’d selected joystick-shaped cufflinks. As he passed out his gifts to the proper recipients, he noticed Orchid with the phone to her ear, frozen.
When she finally moved, Orchid collapsed in her chair. She pushed away her finished plate and sunk her head in her arms. Then she wept.
Viv leaned over her mother. “What’s the matter?”
“Ming,” Orchid replied. “He’s dead.”
CHAPTER 14
THE NEWS OF MR. CHAN’S death shocked everyone at the table. Winston’s friends muttered variations of “What a shame” while Kristy’s brothers shook their heads. Kristy herself got up and stood next to Orchid to hold her hand.
It’s just like Kristy, Winston thought, to worry about other people during our wedding rehearsal dinner. How did his fiancée feel? Could she be rattled as well? He got up and placed an arm around her waist.
On the other hand, Orchid looked terrible. She stared down at her phone with a baffled expression, her face ashen. However, the reactions from the adult kids varied.
The biological sons of Mr. Chan seemed troubled. Fort slammed his fist into the table, rattling the plates and cups. Tal gazed into his unopened bottle of baijiu, appearing to contemplate its contents. Bright folded his arms across his chest and looked down, seeming to fade into a dark humor that matched his pitch-black outfit.
The stepchildren showed mixed reactions. Sandy started trembling, and Winston could hear her deep centering breaths hard at work. Evan closed his eyes and seemed to tune out the whole world. Lyle dropped his camera but didn’t notice. Viv wrung her hands.
Then she started in on an explanation. “It must have been his heart, already weak from the last attack.”
Fort shook his fist in the air. “Told Ba he worked too hard. Said I could take over earlier.”
“We should’ve had a real vacation,” Tal said, “like I wanted.” He scowled at his full bottle of baijiu.
Orchid’s head snapped up. “Aiyaa. I asked him to retire sooner. Said we could pass the business on and relax.”
Lyle shook his head, retrieved his camera, and checked its inner workings.
Sandy’s breathing became more labored, and her lips tightened. “I hate the company.”
The whole family stared at her. Winston couldn’t tell if they were more troubled by her words or her unusual lack of composure.
Evan opened his eyes and placed his hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I agree with Sandy. Time to end the practice of underpaying employees . . . ”
The whole family erupted in a clamor, seeming to verbally spar with one another. A cacophony of strident voices filled the air. Winston could only make out a few select phrases:
“Need living wages.”
“At least they’re employed.”
“What does the Chan name stand for?”
Their waitress edged to the table and crept over to Winston’s side. “If you could pay now, sir . . . ” She gave him the bill and scurried away.
Winston decided to skip using his credit card. The faster he left, the better. And the other customers at Sambal were starting to give their table dirty looks. He paid in cash, leaving a large tip.
Projecting his voice, he addressed those seated around him. “Thank you for coming to our rehearsal dinner. It’s getting late, and we’d better leave.”
Everybody focused on Winston as he spoke. The squabbling stopped. Most of the group rose from their chairs and gathered their belongings. A few, though, spooned up the last bits of their bo bo cha cha. Fort finished his dessert and chugged down the remains of his coffee.
Immediately, he started coughing. Fort’s face turned red as he clutched his throat.
Abandoning her post by Orchid’s side, Kristy rushed over to Fort. After a moment’s observation, she said, “He’s having trouble breathing.”
What was wrong? It must be—“His peanut allergy,” Winston said.
Kristy scanned the dining room full of patrons and asked, “Does anyone have an EpiPen?”
Nobody did. Fort continued to make choking noises, and Winston flagged down the waitress. “Call nine-one-one,” he said.
CHAPTER 15
WHEN THE AMBULANCE came, Fort was taken to the closest hospital. It happened to be the same one his father had been in. Another tragic accident for the Chan family. If Winston had been superstitious, he’d say the Chans were cursed.
As it were, his mind churned away, trying to figure out the puzzle. Ming, the patriarch, dying—what would that mean for the Chan family?
Thinking like a detective, he needed to unearth info from every family member, but what about Kristy? He felt torn, wanting to indulge his thirst for sleuthing while also feeling devoted to his lovely fiancée. Besides, this weekend should be about them and their future life together, right?
Kristy sidled next to him. “You want to understand what’s happening.”
He nodded. How well she knew him.
“Figure it out,” she said. “I need my beauty sleep anyway.”
Her permission proved again that he was marrying the right gal. He kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you, Kristy.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Have fun sleuthing.”
Winston thought about how best to proceed. He glanced at Orchid, who remained in her catatonic state.
Tapping her on the shoulder, he asked, “May I drive you and your family to the hospital? To go and check on Fort?”
Orchid looked at him with a blank stare but reached into her purse and handed over the car keys.
Winston embraced Kristy and said goodbye to his friends and family. He gave a head nod to Marcy.
“I’ll take care of everything here,” she said and shooed him away.
THEY ENTERED THE HOSPITAL, and Winston strode right up to the info desk. After asking about Fort, he was given directions to the ER section. Winston started navigating the Chan family to the other side of the building, but Orchid held back.
She wiped a tear away from her eye and said, “I need to make the arrangements for Ming.”
“Okay, we’ll be at the ER. You can ask the staff for directions,” Winston said.
She waved him away, and he took the others over to the emergency section.
The room was crowded, and Winston saw people nursing various ailments: broken bones, hacking coughs, flushed faces. Some tried to watch a centralized TV screen blaring out the latest news. Others flipped through tattered magazines. Most, though, waited with resigned expressions on their faces.
Tal shuffled over to Winston and said, “I’ll ask someone in charge about Fort. Why don’t you settle the others?”
Tal rubbed his aching back and attempted to straighten his posture before heading over to the intake desk. Meanwhile, Winston found chairs for the others in the far corner, right next to a buzzing vending machine. They all sat down, but nobody wanted to look at ratty magazines or munch on sodium-laden snacks.
Bright scuffed the linoleum floor with the sole of his black sneakers. “Some vacation,” he grumbled.
The others seemed to agree, displaying morose faces. Were they disturbed about their interrupted family time? Or in shock about Ming’s death? Or perhaps worried for their brother Fort?
He couldn’t tell, and he needed them to open up. What safe topic could Winston start with? “So . . . what else did you see around San Jose?” he asked.
Viv took the bait and spoke first. “You’re kidding, right?” She pul
led out a pack of Bubblicious and popped a bright pink cube into her mouth.
Sandy stood up and did a tree pose. “What my adorable sis is trying to say is we drove straight here.”
“No side trips?” Winston scratched his head. Most folks traveled to see the big city first, with its urban thrills plus touristy Fisherman’s Wharf. And the rich chocolates at Ghirardelli’s. Winston had a bit of a sweet tooth himself.
“We only had one stop to make, the Mystery Shack.” Sandy stretched and sat back down.
Winston remembered Fort saying something about the vacation, that it was more of a—“Work trip, right?”
Sandy nodded. “To inspire us kids to help launch a new product line.”
“Whatever.” Bright sat with his arms crossed, glowering. “I vote we get out of the family business. It’s doomed to collapse.”
Evan stood up. “No, we just need to revamp things. Take out the cheap labor and focus on a more purposeful product, like organic food.”
Viv popped her gum. “No way. We should go big and more fancy. Perfume’s the ticket.” She pulled out an atomizer from her purse and spritzed the air. The scent of cloying roses attacked Winston, and he covered his nose.
Sandy blinked at her sister. “We should focus on what we do best, the handbags. But make them more responsible and sustainably produced.”
“Nah. Ming wanted us to expand the fam biz,” Viv said.
Lyle zipped open his camera bag, whipped out his Nikon, and started cleaning its lens. “What about transitioning to art?”
Sandy rolled her shoulders. “You mean reprints?”
Lyle shook his head and lifted the now gleaming camera. “Originals.”
“No,” Evan said. “Ming wanted copies and generics. But with appeal.” He used his hands to frame the air like a director capturing a scene. “What about . . . organic moss crisps? Think about it.”
Viv blew a huge pink bubble. “No way you would’ve won the contest with that kind of idea.”
This seemed to be the lead he’d been looking for. Winston’s ears perked up. “There was a competition?”
Before Viv could answer, Orchid arrived in the room. She looked around a few times until Viv jumped up and down to get her mother’s attention.
As Orchid approached the group, Winston got up from his chair and greeted her. “Mrs. Chan, how are you feeling?”
She gave him a hard stare. “I finished what needed to be done.”
He had asked to genuinely see how she was doing, not be insensitive. “Uh, how about a snack?” Pulling a few quarters from his pocket, he pivoted toward the nearby vending machine. “Snickers? They always satisfy . . . ”
She shook her head and crumpled into a nearby chair—the one he’d just abandoned to get her a snack. “I can’t handle much more of this.”
Heavy, plodding footsteps came toward them. Winston turned to see Tal heading their way. He appeared more hunched over than ever.
“What’s wrong?” Winston asked.
“It’s Fort, they couldn’t help him in time. He . . . died.”
CHAPTER 16
ORCHID PUT HER HEAD in her hands and groaned. She seemed stuck to her chair in a wilted position.
Bright spluttered. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” He looked like he would lunge at Tal, but then Winston stepped between the two of them. Bright started pacing around the room instead. With his all-black attire, he looked like a shadow flitting among the chairs.
Viv stopped popping her gum and accidentally swallowed it. She made a choking noise, while Sandy patted her on the back. As soon as Viv recovered, the sisters retreated to a private corner and held hands.
Lyle laid his camera in his bag and zipped up the case.
Tal shook his head. “Fort couldn’t breathe.”
“He’s really dead?” Evan said in a hollow tone.
Tal raked his hands through his hair, disheveling the jet- black strands. “They said we could go see him, to get closure.” He looked over at Winston. “Um, family only . . . ”
Winston nodded. “Go ahead. And take your time.”
After the Chans left, he regretted his rash words. How long would they take? Already his cell phone showed the time as nine o’clock. He texted Kristy.
Winston: Sorry, still at hospital.
Kristy: Is Fort stable?
Winston: He . . . didn’t make it.
Kristy: What?! If only I had noticed sooner . . .
Winston: You did the best you could.
Kristy: The poor Chans.
Winston: They’re getting closure now. Don’t know how long it’ll take . . .
Kristy: You have until midnight, Cinderella.
Winston: I’m the prince . . . or Sherlock, at least. Love you, Watson!
Winston felt a shadow fall on him. Orchid stood above him and tapped her foot. She looked composed, though tired. Her posture seemed stiff, and her stare fixed.
The rest of the Chan family stood behind her in a huddle, their eyes cast down. Some had their arms crossed over their chests in protective gestures. Viv appeared to shiver, though the room felt quite warm.
Orchid turned her attention to her family and looked each of them in the eye. “Two dead? Our family is cursed. We are burning incense tonight.”
“Fire hazard,” Sandy mumbled, but Orchid ignored her.
“We leave now,” said the matriarch. She pointed at Winston with a jab of her finger. “You. Drive us.”
Winston led them away from the ER area by crossing through the lobby. He felt almost like Mother Goose with her goslings. Except that this was the saddest fairy tale he’d ever heard of.
Before they made it to the exit, they passed by the info desk. The lady behind it stood up and waved her arms. “Mrs. Chan,” she called out.
Orchid craned her neck. An expression of deep sorrow appeared on her face. “More paperwork to fill out?”
“No, nothing like that.” The woman behind the desk twirled a pen in her fingers. “I just wanted to say . . . it was his choice. Remember that.”
Orchid nodded once at the woman and continued walking toward the exit.
Winston puzzled over the woman’s words. Why had she flagged down Orchid? And whose choice was she referring to?
He continued trying to make sense of the strange conversation as they reached the parking lot. He watched the Chan family climb into the van.
They all looked withdrawn, and he knew no one would be chatting with him during the drive. Seated in the passenger’s side, Orchid reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a crinkled receipt. She wrote an address on the back of it and handed him the scrap of paper.
Winston guessed it was the address of their hotel. He punched in the directions on his phone and prepared himself for a long, silent ride.
CHAPTER 17
WINSTON DROVE BY A number of seedy neighborhoods to reach the Chans’ hotel. Once he arrived, he did a double take of the name. Although a similar-looking blue and red emblem beamed down at him, the display looked off.
“Is this a Motel 6?” he asked. The number on the sign appeared almost taped on, and it lay on its side as though the 6 had decided to take a nap.
Bright spoke first. “No, that’s a nine. We’re staying at a Motel 9.”
Winston glanced at the man’s face, which looked as dour as ever. Was the guy making a joke? He turned toward Orchid, but she didn’t say anything to contradict Bright. In fact, she started unbuckling her seat belt.
Tal piped up. “It was Ba’s choice.” He pulled out a tube of muscle rub as he spoke and slathered the stuff over his neck. “He loved knockoffs.”
“Pew. Your lotion stinks,” Viv said, pulling out her atomizer and spraying everything in sight with her signature rose scent.
The combination of flowers and medicinal ointment did not combine well. Winston unlocked the doors and almost tumbled out of the van in his haste to leave.
Orchid stood still in the asphalt parking lot, under a lampp
ost. It cast an eerie orange glow on her face. She tugged Winston’s arm. “You must join us to burn the incense. The more voices making a plea, the better for Ming,” she said. “Wait here while I grab the supplies.”
In the meantime, Winston surveyed the motel complex. It held about ten rooms in a cramped U shape. Orchid strode over to unit number eight, inserted her key, and disappeared inside. Winston wondered whether she’d picked the room on purpose, asking for the lucky number at the front desk. After all, eight sounded a lot like the word for prosperity in Chinese.
Orchid soon came back with her arms laden. She chose a dark corner of the lot, away from the creepy orange of the solitary lamppost. Then she put everything out in a neat row: the packet of incense, a lighter, a large plastic cup, and a small Guanyin statue about the size of Winston’s palm.
He counted the goddess of mercy’s many arms. Though she was supposed to bring peace and mercy, Winston had always considered her a strange octopus-humanoid figure.
“We need dirt,” Orchid said. She pointed at Tal. “You’re second oldest. Go to that bush, dig under it, and fill this cup.”
Tal squinted at the scraggly bush on the other side of the lot. “What will I use for a shovel?”
“Your hands,” Orchid said as she pulled out joss sticks.
She handed one to everyone present. Each long red stick had a powdery yellow top. Winston rolled the incense between his hands. How had he gotten roped into this ritual? He wished he’d stayed by Kristy’s side after dinner instead of going with this odd family.
Winston saw Tal in the distance whacking at the hard earth with his arms. Closer to him, Orchid began arranging the siblings in a certain order. Winston noticed an odd pattern in the way they were lined up: all of Orchid’s kids first, with Bright at the rear.
Orchid then turned to Winston. “You’ll be the very last petitioner.”
When a tired-looking Tal returned to Orchid, she put the plastic cup he’d filled with dirt in front of the statue. Then she told Tal to stand next to Bright. The two of them brought up the back of the sibling train.