by Mingmei Yip
“You’ll see. Open your eyes as wide as you can so you don’t miss the next shocking act. You’ve never seen anything like what is about to happen!” the MC said excitedly.
“Get out of the way! We want to see the girls, not you, big mouth!”
Right after the master of ceremonies stepped down, I swiftly slid a dagger from my sleeve and plunged it into Shadow’s chest. Blood spurted in a crimson cascade from between her breasts. The magician, now covering her chest with her hands, looked at me with an indescribable expression. Shocked? Stunned? Tormented?
“Oh, no!” the audience cried out in alarm, but of course they had no idea what to do. I saw a few muscular men at the back spring up, ready for action. Fortunately, no one was leaving to call the police. I put on my best smile and bowed deeply.
“My apologies, ladies and gentleman. Relax. No one is going to get hurt, especially not our beloved Miss Shadow!”
At the same time, Shadow was regaining her composure. She must have realized now that she was only in shock, not in pain, and that the whole thing was, like her own magic, just a trick.
A smile materialized on her pale face as she bowed to the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m fine, really, as you can see.” She patted her bloody chest where the knife had stabbed.
However, this little trick was just a warm-up for the ultimate show, a tantalizing hors d’oeuvre to whet appetites for the gourmet entrée.
I had thrust a knife into Shadow’s chest, but it was not a real knife, only one whose blade was blunt and retracted into its handle. Fake blood stored inside the handle was squeezed out to create a realistic effect. So what looked like a stabbing was just an illusion. I was surprised that Shadow, as a magician, had fallen for this simple gimmick. But it is always different when the trick is on you. She needed to learn to be more shock-proof.
Shadow cast me a harsh look, whether real or feigned anger, I could not tell and didn’t care.
People in the audience were asking one another what had just happened. But I was not going to explain my trick, and now was the moment for which I had planned the entire show.
Two stagehands appeared, pushing a wooden platform on which was mounted a big wheel, while Shadow and I went backstage to change. When we came back out, I took several deep breaths, silently praying that everything would go according to plan. A plan that nobody knew, not even heaven.
Shadow twirled across the stage to the big wheel and climbed onto it, her feet resting on two small projections. Next, the stagehands strapped her securely to the wheel. Then one of the men handed me a brocade bag filled with knives, while the other pushed a button on the wheel board. Slowly the huge disc began to revolve, accompanied by sinister music from the orchestra. Now a bright spotlight was shined on me, making the knife blades glint as I lifted them from the bag. Instantly the usually rowdy crowd became deathly silent.
I meditated and planted my legs firmly on the stage. Then, like a lightning flash, twenty knives flew from my hand and landed around Shadow in a perfect circle. After a moment of stunned silence, thunderous applause burst into the air.
Shadow came down from the board and walked to me, smiling gorgeously. We held hands and sauntered to the front of the stage to bow.
She whispered to me, “Good job, Camilla.”
“You bet, Shadow. I never miss.”
As I lifted up my head, I spotted Rainbow Chang in the front furiously scribbling on her notepad, then looking up to stare at me admiringly. But I had no time to acknowledge her or anyone else in the audience. What I had planned next would take all the concentration my years of bitter training had prepared me for.
A heroic tune streamed out from the orchestra, energizing the air. But I felt a chill, an uncanny sensation, for I was the only being between heaven and earth who knew what was going to happen next... .
To build up more suspense, Shadow and I went backstage to change again, she into a beaded black Western outfit and I a black tunic bordered by silver sequins at the neck and sleeves.
Holding hands, we headed back onto the stage. Again, Shadow was strapped onto the board, which began to slowly rotate, while I set the knives in a row on the floor next to my feet. Now, accompanied by a mysterious tune from the orchestra, I began to contort my body into impossible, even inhuman, postures. As I entangled and disentangled my limbs, knives flew out with lightning speed and unerring accuracy, forming different patterns—circle, square, heart—around Shadow. I was sure none had ever witnessed a woman contorting while throwing knives at the same time. The spectacle was eerie, erotic, perverse. No sound was heard except the steady thudding of the knives landing next to Shadow.
The staff pulled out the knives and handed them back to me. Next I lay belly-down on the floor, my head facing the audience, my legs crisscrossed on top of my head, and my toes holding one another above my scalp.
But something strange happened. This time the knife hesitated for a fraction of a second before, seemingly with a will of its own, flying out from my hand. I heard a sharp cry burst from Shadow’s bright red lips. Her blood, this time real, sprayed onto the revolving board and splattered onto the stage.
The stunned audience remained as silent as corpses. They must have assumed that this was yet another trick. Only when the magician cried out again did the stagehands reappear.
Shadow begged plaintively, “Stop the machine!”
They quickly turned it off and helped her back down to the stage.
My secret goal had been to slice off one of Shadows’ fingers, ruining her chances of success as a magician or skeleton woman in Shanghai. But right now I was no better off than she because I was “stuck” in my contortion pose. No matter how hard I tried to loosen my limbs, they stubbornly remained in their perverse—and now extremely embarrassing—position.
Staff, bodyguards, and several men from the audience rushed onstage. Amidst the resulting confusion, I saw two assistants help the pale, bleeding, and trembling Shadow off the stage. I do not know what happened next, because I lost consciousness... .
The next day, the gossip newspapers were in a frenzy reporting the failed show of the century. In front of the elite of Shanghai, two of its most famous and beautiful skeleton women had met with exciting mishaps: one had her finger nearly sliced off, while the other got stuck in her contortionist act and passed out.
Rainbow Chang’s column read:
Show of the Century Ends in Disaster!
Last night the spectators at the Bright Moon Nightclub had their eyeballs stunned—twice. First by Camilla’s singing in contorted poses, then by her even more contorted knife-tossing at her partner, the magician Shadow. Everything went fine until Camilla lobbed a knife while in a particularly weird pose. The whirling blade sliced poor Shadow’s finger. In the meantime, Camilla got stuck in her pose and passed out.
So Shanghai might now have a nine-fingered skeleton woman and another skeleton woman entangled in an endless knot. Shadow lost so much blood that she now looks even more shadowy, while Camilla nearly suffocated and may never stand up straight again.
More to follow... .
Rainbow Chang
I felt a smile playing around the corners of my lips. I had fooled everyone. Everything had worked out according to plan and under my control—the slicing off of Shadow’s finger, my being stuck in the impossible pose, and the fainting were no accidents, only strategies.
And yet as I tried to relish my impeccable plan by re-creating last night’s accident, I felt a headache coming on. Something was not quite right. Why the hesitation, just for a split second, before I threw the knife? Had I felt compassion just at that moment? Were my getting stuck in the contortionist position and fainting truly a pretense, or were they real?
I racked my brain but couldn’t be sure what had actually happened. Was my mind scrambling itself to prevent me from knowing the truth? Was I losing my grip on reality from my lifetime of lying, cunning, and scheming? As I brooded, my headache intensified, and fear grippe
d me like a tiger’s paw.
Not until I awakened in the evening did I realize I’d fallen asleep. The headache was gone, so I steeled myself to analyze and plan. Maybe I should stay out of the public eye for a while to let the whole thing cool down. But first I needed to visit Shadow in the hospital. I definitely didn’t want to be portrayed as both careless and heartless.
I put on a simple cotton cheongsam and only light makeup and was about to leave the house when the doorbell rang. To my surprise, when Ah Fong opened the door, it was none other than my ghostly rival! And I was even more surprised when she handed me a bunch of camellias and a bottle of red wine. It should be me who visited her and brought flowers and wine. Was this some new game she was playing?
I smiled nervously at the inscrutable face across from me. “Thanks for coming, Shadow, but you really shouldn’t have done all this. In fact, I was about to ask Ah Wen to drive me to the hospital to see you.”
I cast a quick glance at her hand. “I’m so sorry about your finger.. . . I don’t know how I could have made such a horrible, horrible mistake... .”
She lifted her bandaged pinky while giving me a bitter glance. “The doctor said it was only slightly damaged. Fortunately the knife didn’t slice into the bone, so it should heal soon.”
“I’m so sorry, Shadow. I must have been so tense and exhausted by all the rehearsals and preparations that I ...” Then I realized that I had not sliced off her finger after all, as I had intended, merely scraped her fingertip.
She said sarcastically, “Ha! And I was so naive as to believe that you never make mistakes.”
I was about to respond, but she continued. “Camilla, I’ve eaten so much bitterness in order to be a magician, a little chip off my finger will not deter me. I’m not going to give up magic just because of this accident. In fact, I’m thankful for the valuable lesson it taught me: no one is ever safe in this life. Glory does not last forever, including mine. So I’ve made up my mind to ask Master Lung for long-term sponsorship.”
Surely she knew that I was Lung’s mistress. Did she suspect that I’d intended to get rid of her by slicing off her finger? Was this her clever strategy to retaliate? Why did this damn Shadow keep coming back to haunt me like a hungry ghost?
But I swallowed all my bitterness and smiled sweetly. “I’m sure he can’t resist the request of such a beautiful woman as you.”
“I certainly hope not.” She looked down at her bandaged pinky.
If I had sliced off her whole middle finger I thought that she would withdraw from Shanghai’s stage forever. Either she would be too embarrassed or unable to perform, or she would get my message for her to disappear. But now the damage was obviously much less serious than I’d hoped. She went on. “The doctor said the flesh might even grow back. Since you’re Master Lung’s favorite woman, and he once mentioned that you and I are like sisters, I decided to ask him to pay for the hospital fee. I meant to ask you to ask him, but since you don’t seem to be feeling well, I’ll do it myself. He is so rich—you don’t think he’ll turn me down, do you?”
Her statement took me by such surprise that I couldn’t think of a proper response. Not only was she using this “accident” and my relationship with Lung to befriend him, she was also going to spite me by contacting Lung herself instead of asking me to do so. What nerve!
Slicing her finger had not only failed to make her disappear, it would now be a pretext for her to get closer to Lung. I was in a state of disbelief. But one thing was certain: I could not let this happen!
Although I kept my smile sweet and innocent, my heart was plunging down to the floor. I ignored her question and instead asked, “Shadow, are you angry at me?”
She answered with a sincere expression. “Yes and no. I was angry that you injured me, but then I was not angry because I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
Was she dissembling or telling the truth?
“Thank you so much for understanding, Shadow. So ... are we friends again?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m here. I know you didn’t do it on purpose, because you once saved my life, remember?”
She was referring to the night I’d “rescued” her from being robbed. Judging from her expression, I was pretty sure she didn’t suspect anything fishy, that I had staged the robbery by having Gao disguise himself as a hooligan. Because, after all, I had “risked my life” to save hers and had even gotten a cut on my forearm.
Unless, like me, she was also an excellent actress worthy of the most prestigious award for deceiving.
“Shadow, I apologize again for my mistake, and I’m so glad that your finger is okay.”
“I’m glad that you’re okay, too. The police wanted to take you to the hospital for a checkup, but you resisted so vehemently, they gave up.”
I was alarmed that I didn’t even remember this.
I said, “Then let’s not talk about unpleasant things but have some food and something to drink.”
“Good.” Shadow raised her glass. “To our future cooperation!” she toasted, then downed her whiskey in one big gulp.
Finally, after she’d left, to calm my nerves I opened the bottle of wine she had brought and quickly downed a full glass. I choked, surprised by its cheap, acid taste.
This dog-fucked Shadow, couldn’t she get my message that it was time to leave Shanghai? Wasn’t she afraid of me, of anyone? Maybe she thought I had no courage to harm her again?
PART FIVE
24
A Ghost Baby Boy
By telephone Big Brother Wang and I agreed that I would not contact him until the public frenzy around the show of the century calmed down. I couldn’t let people find out that I was well and sane. But perhaps I wasn’t. I stopped reading all the gossip about me, including Rainbow Chang’s, afraid that I might discover that someone other than I knew the “truth,” whatever it was.
For my “convalescence,” I mainly stayed in my apartment and read to pass the time. I refrained from going to the Bund to practice so as not to risk being seen and to avoid Jinying, who might look for me there. When he called, I told Ah Fong to say either that I was out or that I was asleep. If he came to the apartment, Ah Fong would say that I was not home and send him away.
Finally, a few weeks after the accident, I did agree to talk to Jinying once over the phone.
His voice held love, sadness, and fear, all rolled into one. “Camilla, please, why don’t you let me see you?”
“Jinying, I appreciate your concern. But I’m still not back to normal, and you don’t want to see me looking sick.”
Now his voice jolted up like an elevator. “That’s pure nonsense! I love you, Camilla, and I don’t care how you look!”
“All men care, Jinying. Don’t pretend you are any different.”
He was silent again, then pleaded, “Let me see you and take care of you, please, Camilla.”
I didn’t answer but asked instead, “How’s your father? Did he hear about the accident?”
“Yes, I told him, and he sends his good wishes for your recovery. He said he’ll be back soon.”
I had not forgotten that Jinying had not come to my performance by himself. So I asked casually, “How did your friend like my show?”
“Who do you mean?”
Did he think I would not have noticed the pretty girl who’d leaned on him the whole time?
So I had to be more direct. “Who is she?”
“Oh, her. She’s Mr. Zhu’s daughter. Zhu insisted I take her to your show, since he couldn’t be there.”
“Anyone could tell she’s very fond of you.”
“I don’t care about her. No other woman matters to me except you!”
“Jinying, I’m tired now and need to rest. I’ll see you soon, I promise.” After that, I hung up.
Jinying was not the only one who cared about me. There was also Gao. Of course he couldn’t visit me and bring flowers or fruit because he was away with Lung at a meeting somewhere. But he had sent a letter.<
br />
Dear Miss Camilla,
I am extremely sorry to hear that you fainted and your partner was injured during your show. If only I had been there, I could have dashed onstage to help you.
I am worried about you. Are you not feeling well? I think you are under too much strain. I hope you consider me a friend.
I also hope you will allow me to visit you when I return to Shanghai. If you need anything or any help, just let me know. I’ll do anything for you.
Take very good care of yourself, and be well and happy.
Your loyal servant,
Gao
I didn’t know why, but despite the concern of these two attractive men, I felt sad. I feared I was having more feelings toward both than I could afford. Jinying and Gao, one a boss’s son, whom so many competed to please, the other the underling whose job was to fend these people off. Whom should I choose? With either there was extreme danger!
Gao’s I am worried about you. Are you not feeling well? I think you are under too much strain, worried me. Gao had noticed that something was amiss with me. He had good reason to wonder if I was pregnant, of course.
I decided to visit Madame Lewinsky to see if I could fish some advice from her on women’s matters. Although I tried to brace myself to be strong, all that had happened—and would happen—began to weigh on me so much that I felt relieved to see her, though I had been trained not to depend on anyone.
Lewinsky’s face, familiar and affectionate, soothed me like a cool breeze on a sultry summer day. After she led me to sit on the sofa, she went inside the kitchen to make tea. I listened to the pleasant metallic banging of pots and pans and had a rare feeling of something close to happiness. Soon Lewinsky came out from the kitchen carrying a tray. She laid it on the table and poured tea. We began to sip the sugar-and-milk-sweetened Russian black tea and nibbled on the sponge cakes she’d baked.