Mambo in Chinatown

by Jean Kwok

  “They were boiled so long, all the germs in the caterpillars must have been sterilized, right?” Lisa said.

  “Sure,” I said. “Can we talk about something else now?”

  Pa said, “I think I feel stronger already.”

  —

  The next morning, I woke up and my cold seemed to have been cured overnight. Lisa, though, remained unchanged.

  —

  For the first time in my life, I now rode the subway every morning, rocketing north out of Chinatown. I descended into the station in one world, and I emerged, half an hour later, in an entirely different one. Riding the subway was fascinating to me, watching all of the people get on and off. As the train went uptown, the number of Chinese people in the car decreased. They were replaced by men and women in long black coats, reading their cell phones. When I spotted a subway car ad for lupus treatment, I bit my lip, wondering if Lisa had some disease like that. What if she was really sick? No, she was a young healthy girl. She was just stressed.

  More people got on and off. I particularly studied the other young women who seemed to be, like me, on their way to work, yet in some ways looked so different. Many of them wore simple clothing that somehow still managed to be attractive by the way it fell over their bodies. They all seemed to have the same types of flat shoes or black boots and oversized bags. It felt as if the rest of the world knew something I didn’t, like they were dancing the tango together while I was doing freestyle, flailing away by myself.

  At the studio, I’d grown more comfortable since Estella left. Simone still intimidated me but she kept more to herself. The class of potential new dance teachers had recently petered out: Adrienne and Dominic had narrowed it down to three people, but then all of them had dropped out for one reason or another. One had gotten a job at another dance studio, another decided to move out of New York, and they couldn’t reach the last one at all. Now they had decided the upcoming period was too busy with ballroom shows and preholiday preparations to start another audition process, so they would wait until after the New Year to hire someone.

  Adrienne was in the office every day at seven months pregnant. And I was still making mistakes. When I was under stress, I would sometimes forget how all of the buttons on the phone worked.

  I had so much trouble with writing things down that Adrienne had said one day casually, “I think you may be dyslexic. Have you ever considered that?” I remembered a teacher in high school had mentioned that possibility to me as well, had wanted to talk to Pa about testing he’d need to approve. But Pa had been too nervous to come to school and I didn’t want Uncle Henry or Aunt Monica to think I was somehow damaged goods, so I’d told Pa that the problem had been solved. I couldn’t even really explain what dyslexia was to him either, since I wasn’t sure myself. But in any case, it was not a positive sign if your boss thought you might have a learning disability.

  I overheard Dominic talking to Adrienne about me in the office next to the reception area. “She cut off Giovanni on the phone.” Giovanni was the Avery head of our entire region.

  “No. Was he angry?” Adrienne sounded horrified.

  “He seemed to think it was funny. Said she had a sexy voice but maybe we should hire someone who could actually do the work.”

  “Sexy?”

  “I know, but on the phone you can’t see how she’s hiding in her baggy clothing.”

  I was mortified. I’d hoped the glamour of the studio had rubbed off on me and that I was becoming a bit stylish since starting work there. Aunt Monica had told me I was too boyish and muscular, so I tended toward clothes that helped compensate. Pa taught me to cover my legs at least below the knee, midcalf if possible, and now that it was cold out, I was wearing a few layers underneath my clothing to add to my thin coat. I spent as little as possible on my own clothing, knowing how important it was for Lisa to look nice at school and fit in with the other girls. I didn’t want her to be as unpopular as I’d been. Most of my dresses and more formal clothes were hand-me-downs from Aunt Monica or leftovers the local ladies had saved for us from the garment factory.

  Growing up, my only female role models had been Aunt Monica and Godmother Yuan, and even though I’d known Aunt Monica’s taste for shiny fabric and large flowers was not the epitome of elegance, it was probably unavoidable that it would influence me a bit. Zan and Mo Li weren’t much help either; then, they’d been just as clueless as I was. But it was obvious even to me that neither the dancers nor the students at the studio dressed the way I did. The students’ clothing was plain but sleek, while the dancers, of course, wore flashier, more clingy clothing. It was so confusing. I’d never really cared about how I looked before. Once again, I longed for a mother I could talk this over with.

  I remembered a time Ma and I had been at Aunt and Uncle’s house in Queens. I was about ten years old. It was before Lisa’s birth. We were waiting for them to come home and Ma had taken me into their bedroom, then opened Aunt Monica’s jewelry box.

  “Should we?” I asked.

  She’d giggled like a child caught in the act. “No. This is very naughty of us.”

  Then she’d put a gold bracelet on her slender wrist and a jade necklace around my neck. She held up her arm, allowing the sleeve of the shirt she wore for waitressing to fall away, revealing the curve and muscle of her skin, her fingers unfurling like the petals of a flower as she watched herself in the mirror. Then with one arm high and one bent in front of her like a branch in the wind, she’d whirled into a series of turns, one after another after another, until suddenly she stopped with her arm still high, facing herself in the mirror. Even then, I understood it wasn’t the bracelet she longed for but the space that went with such a piece of jewelry, the room and time to dance again.

  “I am like a little girl here, Charlie,” she said. “Playing at dressing up. Just the weight of this thing makes me remember.”

  I’d hardly dared make a sound for fear of disturbing her strange mood. I was afraid to frighten her into silence again but I wanted to know. “What, Ma? What do you remember?”

  She gave a little laugh and said, “Lights. The smell of powder. An empty stage and my arms and hair weighed down with jewelry and clips. Everything made to catch the light.”

  “Like you,” I said.

  She’d caught me up in her arms then and held me. “You, you are my light-catcher.” And then she’d tickled me until I couldn’t breathe and when we were done, we both put back the pieces of jewelry we’d borrowed.

  Even now, I wished I’d been old enough to buy her jewelry, to dress her up one more time before she died.

  —

  Then I made another big mistake. I’d booked Simone for the beginners’ group class on Tuesday evening but didn’t realize she had an extra lesson with her private student Keith then. They were getting ready for an upcoming showcase at the Copacabana and she couldn’t move him. And now no one else was free to teach the group, either. This emerged at the Monday meeting, and to make things worse, dance coach Julian Edwards was present because he had to finalize details for the show with the dancers.

  “Who is responsible for this?” Dominic roared.

  I could feel everyone trying not to look at me.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said.

  “This is the final straw, Charlie,” he said. “We gave you a chance but there have been so many issues.”

  Adrienne laid a hand on his arm. “We’re already looking for a new dancer, Dominic. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Let’s not have to find a new receptionist at the same time, okay?”

  Dominic took a deep breath. “This is a big problem. We are understaffed. The class tomorrow evening, it is already booked full and there’s no one to teach it. All those prospective students. Can’t anyone move their private students?”

  Everyone looked away. My heart was pounding from my near-firing. I would be back at my old dishwashing
job soon. I would have to leave the studio, Nina, the whole ballroom world.

  Mateo spoke up. “It’s one of our busiest nights. Everyone’s got their regulars coming in then and the show is this weekend. We can’t reschedule anyone right before the Copacabana event.”

  There was a pause, then I made myself speak. “Is there anything at all I could do to fix this? Maybe I could help teach it?”

  “What?” Dominic cocked his head as if he was sure he’d misheard me.

  My cheeks were on fire. “I don’t know. Never mind. I really want to help if I can since it’s my fault. It’s just that I’ve assisted in tai chi classes . . . I thought . . .”

  Nina said, “I think it’s a good idea.”

  “She’s not a dancer.” Dominic shook his head.

  “Maybe true,” Nina said slowly, “but they’re all beginners. No one could be worse than they are. All we do is show them a few basic steps. A walrus could teach the class and they wouldn’t know the difference. I’ve done it. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”

  I felt dizzy and cold all at once. What had I done? I couldn’t teach ballroom. Were they really considering it?

  Adrienne murmured, “It’s an idea.”

  Dominic said, “Adrienne, I love you more than life itself but when it comes to the dancing I must decide. Absolutely not.”

  Adrienne continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “How could we cover Charlie’s job?”

  Nina said, “We can put the phone on the answering machine then. Most of the check-ins at that time are for the group class anyway. We all welcome our own students for that lesson, and Charlie checks off the students in the group as they come in. Problem solved.”

  “I didn’t mean to teach it alone,” I said. “Just that maybe I could help.”

  Adrienne said, “Well, there’s no one to do it with you, Charlie. Dominic and I are both booked to give coaching sessions then. You’d be on your own.”

  Dominic said, “I am artistic director here and I am putting my foot down.”

  “Are you trying to upset a very pregnant woman?” Adrienne patted her large stomach. “Sweetheart, this is just a temporary solution. It could work for this one time.”

  Dominic looked like he was having trouble swallowing. “Darling, I can’t allow this. We have standards to maintain.”

  To my surprise, Nina got up and walked over to me. She knelt at my feet and slipped off my pumps. “Dominic, take a look at this.”

  She stared at my Magic-Markered pumps in her hands with disgust. “What have you done to your shoes?” Then she tossed them aside and stretched out my foot, pulling up the material of my pants so you could see my leg. “Point.”

  “What?”

  “Point your foot.”

  I did, my toes lengthening, the arch high and pronounced as it always was, just like Ma’s had been.

  She held my foot and turned my leg out. “Don’t sickle your feet inward, turn them outward.” Then she looked at Dominic as if this said it all.

  Everyone was staring at my foot. “How did you know?” Dominic asked her.

  “She takes off her shoes underneath the desk at the end of the day,” Nina said.

  Dominic walked over to me and said, “Stand up.”

  When I did, feeling awkward in my shoeless feet, he held one of my arms out to the side. “Could we possibly get some of this clothing off?”

  I was wearing a thick button-up sweater over a thin man’s undershirt that I’d stolen from Pa.

  “May I?” he asked.

  I glanced at Nina for a moment. She nodded slightly, so I started to unbutton my sweater, conscious that I was wearing only a worn tank top underneath.

  After I’d slipped my arms out of the sleeves, Dominic looked at me impassively, like a doctor. “Stand up straight. Hold out your arms.”

  I held in my breath and stood as Ma had taught me all those years ago. Shoulders down, arms held from the back, neck long.

  “Make a fist,” Nina said.

  When I did, I could feel the muscles in my arms and shoulders tense. The entire circle of dancers was still.

  “She can beat you up, Dominic, better watch what you say,” said Mateo.

  “Where did you get a body like this?” Dominic asked.

  “Dishwashing. I’m more bony than anything else.”

  Nina said, smiling, “I couldn’t believe it either when I first saw her. She spilled coffee on her shirt and I loaned her my sweater. And those feet.”

  I looked down at my toes. “What about my feet?”

  Katerina spoke up. “I would kill for feet like yours. Any dancer would.”

  I didn’t understand. They were the same feet that had stood at a sink for years.

  Dominic said, “Why in the world do you dress the way you do?”

  My expression must have shown my hurt.

  He ran his hand over his face like he was in pain. “Even if we do entertain this ridiculous idea for a moment, who could possibly teach her the basics? Simone?”

  Simone threw up her hands. “Come on, why me? I’d miss the dance session with Julian. She’s not a dancer. Look at her!”

  Nina took a breath, her eyes flashing, but before she could speak, a voice came from the corner.

  “I’ll do it,” said Julian. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, inscrutable.

  There was a collective gasp. Adrienne struggled to speak. I had never seen her at a loss for words before. “Julian, that is very kind of you but we need you for our own training today.”

  “I have time afterward and I’ll do it for free.” Now we all gaped. I’d seen Julian’s checks and knew he charged five hundred dollars per lesson.

  I spoke the thought on everyone’s mind. “Why would you possibly do such a thing?”

  He smiled. “When you get to be where I am, you’ve seen it all. I’ve held so many international titles, coached almost every top professional dancer. I enjoy a new challenge. It would be interesting to teach someone fresh. Someone with potential.”

  Everyone was now staring at me. Julian Edwards had labeled me as someone with potential. Simone looked like she had something unpleasant in her mouth, but Nina had the biggest grin on her face. I could feel my heart in my throat, a distant thin pulsing.

  Dominic said to Julian, “You are trying to kill me, old friend.”

  Julian’s eyes were filled with mischief. “And enjoying every moment too.”

  Adrienne said, her face blank, “That’s settled then. Nina, you’re going to talk clothes with her, then Julian can try to teach her a few steps.”

  “Clothing?” I said.

  Adrienne said slowly and carefully as if I were stupid, “You won’t be sitting behind a desk. Even for one class, you’re part of the dream that is Avery Studios. You need to look the part. As much as you’re able.” She shifted her gaze to Nina. “Good luck.”

  Seven

  After the meeting broke up, Nina took me into the teachers’ room. “I need to join that dance session so I don’t have a lot of time. But I can’t wait to get you into something else. You’ll need it to dance with Julian.”

  She brought her hands down and felt the ridges of my pelvic bones through the heavy pants I was wearing. “You’re half the size of these things.”

  “I know you would have helped me even if Julian hadn’t spoken up. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.” Nina’s smile was lovely. “Let’s get you out of your clothes. No offense, but where do you get this stuff?”

  I felt awkward. “Mostly hand-me-downs.”

  “You look like a matron.” Nina was examining my reflection in the full-length mirror.

  “That’s who the clothes came from.”

  She started to laugh. “You need some better friends, honey.” She walked to her lock
er, dug through her bag, then pulled out a soft blue garment. “Try this on. It’s one of my rehearsal dresses. It’s clean and Lycra, so it should fit you. Don’t be shy. It has built-in panties so you need to step into it.”

  I tried not to look her in the eyes as I stripped down to my plain cotton bra and underwear. “Will anyone come in?”

  She walked over to the door and stood with her back to it but her eyes were unwavering as she watched me. “Will you look at that?”

  “What?”

  “I still cannot believe how much crap you were wearing over that body. Stop a moment.”

  Nina walked over to me and stared at my bra, which was also a hand-me-down from Aunt Monica. I’d never noticed how it fit before. I knew my aunt was bigger in front than I was, but I thought I’d fixed that by shortening the bra straps.

  Nina poked her finger into the bra cup where it bulged around my breasts. “This is all empty air. That thing is way too big for you. When you wear a bra, your breasts are actually supposed to make contact with the cups.” She pulled out the frayed label from underneath the band, then stared at me and said, “Why on earth are you wearing a D cup? You’re probably like a B or less.”

  “Someone gave the bra to me too, and I never paid much attention.” I stepped into her dress and slipped my arms into the sleeves.

  We both stared at my reflection. The dress was much lower than anything I owned and I tried to tug the V-neck higher, to no avail.

  “Stop that,” Nina said.

  “I don’t want to show any cleavage.”

  She peered at my chest. “You don’t have any. It’s just skin.”

  The dress flowed down my body, ending halfway down my thighs and flaring out at the hem. Instead of making my body look sticklike, it made me curvier, more feminine. The low neckline defined the line of my neck and arms. I’d hardly ever seen myself so exposed before. “I feel naked.”

  Nina came and adjusted the dress a bit for me, pulling it more smoothly over my hips. “Come on. The others have to see this.”

  When she dragged me into the main ballroom, barefoot, Mateo caught sight of me first and let out a long whistle. “Get a pair of heels on those legs.”