Chasing Fireflies (Power of the Matchmaker)

by Taylor Dean

  “The newbies are here. Welcome to China. It’s nice to see some American faces,” he says with a huge smile, a mischievous note accompanying his words. His voice sounds smoother than I’d expected, like he’s purposely trying to speak softly. Only he isn’t. It’s just how his voice sounds. It feels oddly . . . comforting and I like him immediately.

  He shakes Hunter’s hand and then continues around and shakes everyone’s hands. Stacy giggles and blushes. As he turns toward me, I can see why Stacy is smitten. He has dark black hair and blue eyes just as I do, but the similarities between us end there. He makes the black-haired-blue-eyed combination quite striking, causing me to cast him an awkward second glance, just to take in his face one more time. His hair is on the longish side, the exact style hidden underneath his baseball cap. He has sculpted cheek bones, yet the rest of his features are soft. His perfectly trimmed unshaven face announces rebel, yet his success and dedication to his craft bespeaks perseverance. His piercing stare makes me feel as though he can read my mind. His wide smile contradicts his intense appearance, lending him a casual friendliness. Without that smile, I’m unsure I can look him in the eyes for more than a second or two without wanting to squirm.

  “Hey, how’s life at Zhongshan Academy?” he asks, his manner easygoing and sociable. His body language pegs him perfectly.

  “We’ve only just barely arrived,” Lori says, her giggle making her husband frown.

  “Mr. Pow Pow used to teach there too,” Stacy informs the table.

  “Yep, guilty as charged. I came to China four years ago to teach English and never left. Fell in love with the place.” His eyes travel to Stacy’s. “Please, call me Julian.”

  “Oh, Julian, what a nice name,” Stacy flutters.

  “What made you stay?” I ask, curious.

  At the same time, Lori says, “Can you show us around, Julian? I’ll bet you know all the best places.”

  I curse my soft voice. It’s impossible to be heard when I want to be. To my surprise, Julian addresses my question, his eyes directly on me. I didn’t think he’d heard me.

  “I met the owner, Mr. Tang, here at Burger, Burger. He was trying to make a go of an American restaurant and not doing too well. Once we combined forces, everything turned around. Been here ever since. I’ve tried to convince him to change the restaurant name, but he has his heart set on Burger, Burger.”

  His eyes remain on mine, waiting for a reply. I nod and smile, feeling tongue tied. Forget fire breathing dragon, this man has fire breathing eyes.

  Julian shrugs. “That’s the abridged version. The rest is for another day.”

  “I’d like to hear it,” Stacy says loudly in an attempt to steal his attention. She’s successful with her ploy.

  I suddenly find myself understanding Dakota’s annoyance with Stacy. I’m not proud of my catty emotions, but the feeling is there all the same.

  “Another time,” he says with a curt nod.

  Julian looks back at me and for some reason I want to disappear into the woodwork. “I see you got yourself a YOUR t-shirt. Height of fashion.” His smile and friendly demeanor again steal the intensity from his gaze. But I’m not fooled, those eyes don’t miss a thing.

  I almost forgot I’m still wearing my t-shirt. I should’ve changed before going to dinner. “Couldn’t resist,” I tell him.

  “I think they’re silly,” Stacy announces, her voice high pitched and aching to be noticed over the low hum of conversation. Obviously, she is infatuated with Julian. I don’t blame her. He’s rather . . . what’s the right word? Beguiling? Captivating? Compelling?

  All of the above.

  “I got myself one. Too priceless to pass up,” Julian says to me, as if no one else exists at the table. I fight the desire to climb under the table and hide.

  “They are kinda cute,” Stacy adds and I swallow a smile as Julian winks at me.

  At. Me.

  “Julian, don’t you think this ring Stacy purchased in Hong Kong is just gorgeous?” It’s an obvious attempt by Lori to steer Julian’s attention toward Stacy.

  “Let me see the precious,” he jokes and I laugh a little too loudly. In spite of those penetrating eyes, the man has a funny sense of humor.

  Stacy thrusts her hand his way. “Precious?” She scowls in an unflattering manner, trying to figure out why he’s called her ring precious. Evidently she isn’t a Lord of the Rings fan.

  “Never mind.” Julian flashes a crooked grin my way, then holds Stacy’s hand as he examines the ring. “Very nice.”

  With her hand in Julian’s grasp, Stacy casts me a dirty look.

  Wait. Hold the bus. Does she look upon me as competition? Huh. If she only knew why I was really here, her mind would be put at ease.

  Besides, the last thing I want to do is get involved in girl drama. And Stacy screams drama. As a matter of fact, she oozes it.

  Not gonna go there. I refuse.

  To the group at large, Julian says, “Have you started training yet?”

  Lori answers. “Yes, we started this morning.”

  “So you’ve seen the school?”

  “They gave us a tour,” Jason says, looking displeased with his wife’s eagerness to converse with Julian.

  “And of course our classrooms are located on floor 3B of the school,” I mumble under my breath, assuming no one will hear me.

  Julian laughs out loud and I blink. That wide smile of his transforms his face. Is he laughing at what I said?

  Yep, his eyes are on me. At least, I think they are. I play it cool and resist the urge to look behind me in search of another person.

  Julian grabs a chair, pulls it up to our table, turns it backwards, and straddles it. His seating choice matches his casual appearance.

  “Did you get to give any of your students an English name?” Hunter asks.

  Seriously, he’s more excited about that than anything else. Maybe even more than the food.

  “Oh yeah. It’ll surprise you how many parents prefer that you choose their children’s English names. I had one student named Dairy. Because of the cattle farmers in America, his parents thought it was a good, strong American name. Another student was proudly named Leaf. Her parents felt it was a beautiful name. One girl was named Fountain because her parents liked what it represented. As soon as I explained why those names weren’t good choices, they asked me to name their children.” He nods at Hunter. “Give them good names.”

  Stacy peppers him with a few more questions, with Lori chiming in here and there. I purposefully remain quiet for the rest of the conversation. It’s no use trying to talk over Stacy and Lori anyway.

  Julian sums up one morning of training easily. “Children learn languages much faster than adults. The concept is to constantly engage them in speech. It’s not about the activity you choose to do with them, it’s all about talking about the activity you’re doing. If you are having them do a coloring activity, then you might say, ‘I’m holding a crayon. Are you holding a crayon? Who else is holding a crayon? What color crayon are you holding?’ It’s all about total immersion and repetitiveness. The kids pick up on it surprisingly fast and repeat what you say.”

  With all of my education, the technique the school wants us to implement seems simplistic. Yet it evidently works. Regardless of the ease of our lessons, working with children is always challenging. That’s why I find it rewarding. Every child has a different personality with unique learning needs. It’s my job to find the best way to help each child learn.

  “I’d better get back to work,” Julian says, backing away. “Don’t be strangers.” With his eyes on me, he holds two fingers in a V-shape and points them at his eyes, and then at my eyes, two or three times.

  Stunned, I don’t know how to respond. His message says, “I see you. You can’t hide.” I deliberately close my hanging-open mouth.

  Why isn’t my magic cloak working?

  Chapter Six

  August

  I AM ASSIGNED the Basic Reading class.
My classes will consist of children ages 6-8 who have basic English speaking skills. It’s my job to teach them the alphabet and how to read simple words.

  I spend the morning making a weather chart, a calendar, and a fishing game. I create a magnetic fishing pole along with little fish with a song written on each of them. When they catch a fish, they have to sing the corresponding song.

  In spite of the ease of the subject matter, teaching children who speak another language that I don’t know will be challenging at best. I’m up for it—I’m even excited to get started.

  Dakota and Hunter enter my classroom around lunchtime.

  “Hey, we’re all going down to Burger, Burger for lunch. Quit working, you’re making the rest of us look bad.” Hunter proceeds to grab my arm and pull me toward the door.

  As we walk down the street a teenage boy approaches, wanting to practice his English.

  “Hello, I am Peter. How are you?”

  “We’re awesome,” Hunter tells him with a boyish grin and Peter looks confused.

  I doubt awesome frequents his English vocabulary. “We are fine, thank you,” I say, reminding myself not to speak loudly, just clearly.

  I’m noticing a fashion trend amongst the teenage boys in China. In America, the style would be considered effeminate, but in China their fashion is simply the popular style.

  Peter is wearing a fancy polo, Buddy Holly style glasses, designer jeans, pink sneakers, and a feminine scarf that somehow looks good on him. His hair can only be described as . . . flowy, reminding me of an anime character. He carries a sparkly white cell phone with a diamond charm hanging from it. It says “I am lovely,” which makes me smile. He’s a good representation of the norm. At the same time, he’s masculine and attractive.

  The women tend to be dressed up, wearing skirts and high heels, making me feel underdressed. No matter how fancy they dress, I note that their fashion is highly modest and I find that impressive.

  Burger, Burger is surprisingly busy at the lunch hour. Julian still makes a point to come out and visit with us. Stacy blushes at the mere sight of him. I understand why. He’s a good looking guy.

  Who am I kidding? He’s a great looking guy. Swoon-worthy even.

  “Back so soon?” he says. His voice can only be described as velvety. It suits his relaxed appearance.

  “Give me good food and I’ll be back,” Hunter jokes.

  “We won’t be here tonight. We’re having dinner with our Native Coordinators. We’re supposed to bring something American and they’re supposed to bring something Chinese and then we’ll try each other’s food.” Lori grimaces. “It should be interesting.”

  Initiated by Lori, we’d decided to meet together and eat at Burger, Burger for dinner once a day. It gives us a chance to discuss how our classes are going and tackle any issues or problems—not to mention enjoying a great meal, whether it’s Chinese or American.

  Julian smiles as if recalling a pleasant memory. “It’s always a fun night. They gave us something that I still don’t know what it was to this day.”

  I try not to react to the sound of his smooth voice, but he makes me want to stretch like a contended cat and purr. I remind myself I’m here to find Paul.

  “Was it good?” Stacy asks, clearly worried.

  Julian shakes his head in the negative. “Nope. No way, no how. In all fairness, we gave them spaghetti and they didn’t care for it.”

  “So they won’t be offended if we don’t like their food?” Stacy bites her lip with consternation.

  “Nah, just be polite and don’t say you hate it. For the most part they feel the same way about our food, but they will never say it out loud. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Yet, you pack a full house on a nightly basis filled with Chinese people choosing to eat American food,” Jason points out.

  Julian shrugs like it’s no big deal. “My man, that’s because my food is out of this world and no, I’m not humble when it comes to cooking, so don’t ask me to be.”

  “I like a confident chef,” Hunter says.

  “I like an American chef,” Stacy adds.

  “I like quiet girls,” Julian says, looking directly at me.

  What? It’s a classic deer in the headlights moment and I curse myself for not responding, for not having some type of witty comeback. Is he flirting with me? In my own weird way, I’m surprised he can see me. I mean, most people don’t—and I like it that way.

  From across the table, Stacy says loudly, “I’m quiet.”

  Dakota laughs, nearly choking on her food. We just found out this morning that Stacy had only just turned twenty. It partly explains her behavior. But she doesn’t get a pass for being the mean girl just because she’s young.

  Julian simply moves on and changes the subject. “Are you guys going to sign up for cooking lessons?”

  “Which one do you teach?” Stacy asks.

  “Mr. Tang and I teach the classes together. We teach both American and Chinese cooking. We mix it up, offering all kinds of options. It’s a lot of fun, casual and relaxed.”

  Like him.

  “If you ruin your food, we make you get down and give us twenty. Be prepared.” Julian raises his eyebrows.

  “Give you twenty what?” Stacy asks, looking anxious.

  Without missing a beat, Julian says, “Candy bars. We make you give us twenty candy bars. This man’s gotta sweet tooth.” He points toward himself.

  Judging by his flat stomach, I doubt that.

  Lori whispers loudly, “Push-ups, Stacy. He means push-ups. He’s kidding.”

  “Oh, but I can’t do push-ups,” Stacy laments.

  Hunter hits his forehead with his hand.

  I take all my preconceived notions back. Stacy isn’t the mean girl. She’s just the young, naïve girl.

  “Sorry, Stacy, no one else gets my jokes either,” Julian apologizes.

  I disagree. He’s quick, his mind moving ahead faster than most people think.

  Julian claps his hands. “All right, have fun tonight. Don’t eat anything gross or I won’t be able to look at you ever again.”

  “Why?” Stacy says, her eyebrows furrowed.

  Clearly, she will never get Julian’s quirky sense of humor.

  As he leaves, he points one finger at me, casting a mock stern look my way, like he caught me looking at him or something.

  What? I want to say. And I would’ve said it too if I didn’t feel so flustered by his attention.

  Who’s the naïve girl now?

  “WHAT IS IT?” Tao asks.

  “It’s called peanut butter and jelly. Give it a try.” Hunter’s enthusiasm can’t be contained. “Just go for it.”

  Luli takes a generous bite of her sandwich and her eyes widen with horror. Her head shakes involuntarily with disgust. “I’m so sorry,” she says through a mouthful of sticky peanut butter.

  I stare down at the item on my plate. It looks like a hot dog, only it’s filled with bits of corn. The first bite doesn’t go over well, and I’m loathe to eat more.

  “Let’s just not do this,” Lori suggests and everyone quickly agrees, to include Tao and Luli. As a matter of fact, they are the most enthusiastic about the change of plans.

  Dakota saves the day by bringing out cups of noodles from her stash in our apartment and we all dine on that instead. With relief.

  Tao and Luli give us each a Chinese name. They name me Xiu Yu, (she-ow-you) saying it means “very beautiful.”

  “Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.” Tao quotes.

  As a late bloomer, I understand that Chinese saying all too well. They explain that because of my petite size, black hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and western face, I’m considered very beautiful in China. I won’t share that information with my sisters. Despite the compliment, it will worry them.

  “Well, I’m loving it here,” I tell them with a smile and everyone laughs.

  That’s when I realize I really am loving my time in China so far. I’m happy a
nd I’m not even dwelling on the fact that I’m broken.

  But the thought of Paul Brooks is alive and well in my overactive imagination. And knowing he is close by leaves me feeling giddy with excitement. Miss Pearl told me Paul is my true love and I’ve never stopped believing. I won’t stop now.

  It’s time to find Paul.

  Chapter Seven

  September

  “THIS IS NICE, Savannah. Good choice.” Hunter pauses only long enough to swallow.

  “Yeah. How’d you find out about it?” Dakota works her chopsticks, dropping pieces of shrimp just as they reach her mouth. “I miss forks,” she mumbles.

  “The Native Coordinators told me about it.”

  That’s a half-truth. I’d spent some time on the computer last night doing a little research. With the help of Luli, I’d found the location of Paul Brooks’ office building and discovered there was a nice little restaurant right across the street. Luli told me it was “very, very good.” She was right. They make their noodles from scratch on the premises and they’re the best I’ve ever tasted. We were each able to choose our own sauce and stir-fried meats and veggies to go with our noodles. Their steamed buns and dumplings are delicious too. I’m quickly learning what I like and don’t like.

  It hadn’t required much convincing this morning to get Hunter, the Chinese food connoisseur, to tag along. Dakota has a sweet personality and is always ready to go with the flow, so she was easy. Just to be polite, I also invited Jason, Lori, and Stacy to come too, but they refused, saying they’d prefer to eat at Burger, Burger. I noticed Stacy no longer looked miserable. Mr. Pow Pow has given her a new lease on life. I also noted she was wearing a YOUR t-shirt. Somehow they’re no longer silly to her. Huh.