by Vann Chow
When we touched down safely in Boston, seven heavily armed police stormed the plane and arrested the two men. One walked willingly by himself, the other, still bonded by twist ties, had to be carried off the plane. His wives and children were screaming and shouting, and they too had been escorted off the plane. The head air hostess, who turned out to be the woman who gave me the twist ties, had a short conversation with one of the officer, and out I went as well into the quarantined security area.
“Stay with Shirley and Simon!” I hissed at Jessie who looked as if he wanted to follow me.
Simon gave me a thumb's up. I was too busy being carried away by men about two times my size with arms that could rival the width of the First Class armrests.
Chapter 25: Hugs
When I was finally 'released' from the interrogation room, I walked myself into another interrogation room outside of the security area. As soon as I came out through the sliding doors of the arrival area, reporters and security guards rushed forwarded, surrounding me with cameras and microphones. There were lots of flashes.
“You saved the captain, didn't you?” I gave the man who said that a smile for the camera.
“How did you feel about being a hero?” Another man asked. Hero, when did I become a hero?
“I am not a hero. There are just too many fools.” I replied.
“What kind of Kung Fu did you use? Was it Tai Chi?”
“No, no, no...that was nothing.” I said. “I practice nothing but soccer.”
“Are all Chinese people so grumpy?” I frowned at that one and did not want to reply.
Just then there was an opening in the crowd. A person slipped through and leaped towards me. It was Marvey. She gave me the tightest hug I had ever had in my life.
“Thank God you're alright!” She said, I felt her tears on my shirt. “I am so glad to see you.” She squeezed me harder. I felt tears welled up a little in my eyes myself.
The sliding doors behind me opened and the captain, Mr. Sha came through, his cap cocked to hide the bruise near his right eye. Mr. Sha had a big embarrassed smile on his face when he saw the media.
“Come, take a picture with the captain,” one of the reporter urged me.
“Yes, stand right there,” the cameraman behind him pointed to the space in front of the arrival sliding doors that said “Welcome to Boston!”
“Say cheese!” Marvey cheered. I saw her wiping tears from her face with the back of her hand.
Only when I arrived at Shirley's place and turned on the TV did I realize what the fuss was all about. The local media had mistakenly reported the fight on the flight to be a terrorist attack. And as far as I remembered, the newscaster said an unnamed Chinese man of average height, average looks, average clothing taste, average intelligence, average salary, average hair length and exceptionally good martial art skills had subdued the terrorists. Not only did he rescued passengers of the whole flight from their attempts to take over the plane, he had also saved the lives of thousands, if not hundred of thousands living in the city of Boston should the terrorists drive the plane into one of the skyscrapers on a suicidal mission.
Then there was a footage of me at the airport standing next to the Captain of Hainan Airline being photographed by the enthusiastic crowd.
“That was not a terrorist attack.” I told Marvey. “There were fighting because of a can of coke.”
“How'd you know the can was not part of their weaponry?”
“Good point.” I said, and we chuckled.
From the corner of my eyes, I could spot the tiny winny amount of jealousy in Shirley's eyes. She was still busy taking off the pair of leather boots that were so exquisite they needed a full five minutes to be slowly peeled off from her feet. She must be thinking where were her servants when she needed them, I thought to myself.
Jessie ran towards me and gave me a hug. Then he turned around to look at Marvey and asked, “who's she?”
“That's Marvey. She's my friend.”
“Oooooooo!” The little bastard realized something. “She's your girlfriend isn't it! She's your white girlfriend!”
Shirley finally finished dealing with her leather boots and put on her slippers. She grabbed Jessie in the waist and hoisted him up. “No, Jessie, Shirley is your uncle's girlfriend. Marvey's just working here.”
“Working?” I frowned. “She's a friend.”
Seeing my confusion, Marvey explained, “Shirley let me live here to keep an eye on the apartment while they were back in China.”
“So you don't work here anymore.” I corrected her, now that Shirley and Simon were back.
“I also cook and clean here four days a week,” she smiled. “Shirley pays me well.”
“What kind of mess are you two making? You need someone to clean for you four days a week?”
“Drinking parties, dinner parties, everything.” Shirley replied, as she put Jessie down on the ground again after realizing that he was heavier than she thought. “We have guests here from time to time.” She walked over to the kitchen the wash her hands. “All of you, wash your hands. It's dirty outside. Change out of your clothes, too, all of you, God knows who sat on the same seat before us.”
“No, I want to go out. I want to see Boston now.” I said.
“Let me take you around!” Marvey volunteered.
“Yay! Yay! Yay! I will come with you two!” The little brat grabbed Marvey and my hand in each of his own and pulled us towards the entrance.
“Wait a minute kiddo, I need to wear my shoes.” Marvey protested.
“I don't! I don't!” He shouted. “I didn't take them off. I am the smartest person in this room!”
“What did you do?!” Shirley rushed out of the kitchen in disbelief. It looked as if she was about to faint when she realized that Jessie still had his street shoes on. “My carpet!”
“I will clean it up for you when we come back,” Marvey said.
“All of you are crazy. I am going to take my beauty nap.” Shirley stretched her arms and yawned.
“Guess I am going to take a man-nap. Wake me up when there is food.” Simon said to Marvey, as if she was one of their maids from home.
Chapter 26: Game
Shirley and Simon lived in an luxury apartment on the waterfront, over looking the Charles River. If I simply look at the apartment building that looked like it was made out of glass, I could easily thought that this was back Shanghai.
There was a little park behind it where Jessie could play so the two of us could get a moment of peace. Marvey and I sat on the edge of one of the big flower beds and watched Jessie climbed on top a plastic pirate ship together with some other kids. There was no cultural barrier when it comes to playing pirate.
Life at this point had made a ridiculous turn. I had a girlfriend, I had a kid who could be practically my own if I so choose, since Paula would not have time to object, and I had arrived in America. This was half of the Chinese dream completed, if not all of it. It made me realize that life was all about making a move. I might not have played all my moves in the best way in this chess game of life, but if I did not move, there was no game. I felt proud of myself for the second time in the same day. The first time was when I managed to check Jessie in onto our flight by answering all the grilling questions the woman at the counter bombarded me with about every personal aspects of my life to find out if I am a potential smuggler, child kidnapper or a fatherly terrorist successfully. I had been worried about it for days about all possible worse-case scenarios that could keep him from going with me on this trip, one that he looked so much forward to. He even started watching English cartoons out of his own initiative. He said that was for when he could meet Captain America. He would settle for any of the members of the Avengers though, he confessed.
“You're amazing...” Marvey broke the silence first. “You're like a completely different person from the one I met in Shanghai.”
I asked her what does she meant.
“When I first met you, yo
u were shy, and you didn't like speaking English, except to me, because you knew you could always switch back to Mandarin with me. This morning you were standing in front of the cameras as if you can't wait to show off.”
“I took classes.”
“Yes, I know. Shirley's classes,” she said. “I can't believe the two of you are together. But I am happy for you.”
We reminisced over those months we spent together in China. Then the apology came. I thought it might, because unlike any other woman, Marvey was a kind-hearted girl. She would not let such a thing slip.
“Sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you at the zoo. I was completely beside myself during that period. I was so sensitive about everything around Zhi I thought I would lose my mind.”
“Have you come out of it?” I asked concerningly, for she had gotten, as Shirley described, a bit too skinny to be healthy for a girl like her.
“I think so!” She said with conviction. “I have friends who care a lot about me. I have to be better.” She smiled at me, as if implying that I was included in that group.
Only after spending half a day with her did I realize what was still so wrong about Marvey that Shirley got concerned, as selfish as she was. Marvey would not eat anything that remotely resembled food.
She said, “This will make me fat!” to one thing, and “You're trying to make me gain weight!” to another constantly throughout the day as Jessie and I chowed down on local delicacies we encountered in the city of Boston. An apple was all she had since the morning, she told me, and apparently that was enough for her, for she was on a special diet, which in my interpretation it sounded more like hunger strike, for whatever deadly cause that she deemed worthwhile.
“What was this diet all about?” I asked, annoyed that I still could not buy her something to eat after the sixth try. It was already almost dinner time.
“I just want to control my weigh.”
“Was it Shirley. Did she say you're fat?”
“Hey! I'm doing my best.”
“No, I am not calling you fat. I meant did anyone say you're fat?”
She avoid answering my question and said instead, “All these Asian girls in the dance group they are so skinny. I cannot fit into my dress anymore if I don't lose weigh.”
“You need to ignore them, because to me you're perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Marvey blushed. I felt myself doing the same.
“I never liked Chinese dancing anyway. You need to switch dance group. Have you ever seen belly dancing? All the belly dancers are round and plumb. They are beautiful. When you stand next to them, you will feel like you should have eaten some more.”
“That's silly. I don't want to have a belly.”
“Everyone has a belly.” Jessie was at hand, so I lifted up part of his shirt to reveal his little belly. He started kicking and screaming, so I let go of him. “Look! How cute it is to have a belly!”
“Oh, please stop talking about my body shape. I feel embarrassed.”
On her prompt, I decided to get to the core of the matter that had nothing to do with her body shape.
“Zhi was an asshole. You don't have to do anything for such a man. In Chinese we say his eyes should be hollowed out to feed to the dogs.”
“I have never heard of that one.”
“See, so you have a lot to learn from this big brother.” I said. I was after all more than ten years her senior. “Boys like Zhi are so immature. They like to chase after girls, easy girls. That's in their nature. There is nothing you can do that get him back because he desired not a skinnier version of you, he wants something else, something new.”
“Someone who has beautiful long straight hair, big watery eyes and speak Chinese.”
“Is that why you are in this Chinese student association? So you could imitate them?”
“I love Chinese culture!” She retorted. “Besides, they are my friends.”
“They are Zhi's friends. I know this is harsh, but do you really think that Shirley treats you like her friend? Do you think Simon treats you like his friend?”
“Not everyone is like that. You haven't met the others. Besides, Shirley and Simon gave me an opportunity to make money to pay for my living over here. I need the part time job. They have been nice enough to offer that. That's what friends do.”
“You're way to sweet Marv.”
“And you are way to skeptical yourself. You can't make friends like that. You have to relax and not be so calculating.” She said, giving me advice instead.
“That's the world I come from. Everyone is out there to take advantage of each other. That's the world Shirley and Simon came from, Marv.”
“It wasn't that bad. I was there, in Shanghai.”
“You lived in a bubble, with all the Erasmus exchange students the likes of Erika.” At the mentioned of her name, the scene at the beach floated top of my mind. “How is Erika by the way?” I hope Marvey had not heard about the story between Erika and I. “I haven't been in touch with anyone since her farewell party.”
“I wasn't there.” Marvey said. “But I heard that she made out with you...”
I closed my eyes in disbelief. How could story from Shanghai traveled so far?
“She attacked me.” That was all I could manage to say on the subject.
“I saw you ogling at her so many times. I thought you two would end up together.”
“How did you know?” I asked. “Were you ogling at me yourself?”
“No, I wasn't!”
Jessie came by and said he spotted a comic book store down the street. He wanted to go there naturally and started dragging out towards it.
Chapter 27: Chinese Living In America
I wish I could tell you the most impressive thing I had seen in Boston was some sort of mind-blowing architectural feats like the odd Lego-like building that was the City Hall, or the wavy, uninhabitable Frank Gehry building. It could have been the bustling Faneuil market or the Fenway park full of cheers for the Red Sox at a home game. In reality it was none of them. I was most impressed, shame on me, by the rows of luxury sports cars that lined the parking lot opposite to the Harvard swimming pool on campus.
Never in my life had I seen so many of them in one place that was not the building of an auto seller.
Thanks to having mingled into the group of Chinese friends of Shirley and Simon in Harvard, I was invited as guest to attend this extravagant show-off. Every so often, this group of friends would go out together in their luxury rides to the city to whatever entertainment that was in store. The parking lot opposite to the swimming pool was their meeting point. Naturally, this attract a lot of attention. People who heard of the news would tell their friends, and they would stop by, men dressed in their best outfits to impress, women fully made up, and others bringing some forms of alcoholic drinks or other substances I would rather not tell, to offer to these children of wealthy families some perks in return for their acquaintances.
I found the conversations between these kids rather tiring – it was mostly about purchase of something, or complaints about the wait for something they purchased. A group of college aged Chinese girls were standing around gossiping cheerily, all in fashionable outfits a bit too flimsy for their own good. None of them, I observed, were taking selfies or photographs unlike what one would expect when such an event occurred on the streets of Shanghai. These girls, they were not auto models like you would see in auto shows, they were owners of some of those luxury rides, or girlfriends of owners of those luxury rides. They did not have the need to record this lavish moment, for that occurred plenty in their lives. Among them, I saw Shirley, chatting away feverishly on the low quality of the latest eye-shadow palette from Urban Decay.
Curious passerby's or friends of these auto owners like myself, those of us from the peasant class, were snapping photo feverishly of the cars with them next to it. There were also a few men with professional single lens reflect cameras taking opportunity of the moment to make some Flickr-worthy photo
graphs. God knows how they learnt about tonight.
The three girls next to Shirley, when they were not posing for photographs, were curious about her boyfriend Yours Truly. .
“I have never seen him before. Which department was he in?” One of the scantly clad girls asked her, immediately assumed that I was a PhD. D student there, because of my age.
“No, he works for my dad, back home.” Shirley lied. I was well in earshot, but I did nothing but smiled and walked away, trying to find something better to do than to hear Shirley give me unjustified compliments in front of her friends. “Managing director for the IT department.”
“Cooool,” the girls said unanimously, admiring, I could imagine, the back of a successful, grown man that I was not.
Shirley had been telling that story since the day I arrived. I had no opinion one way or the other about my impression on these people in Boston whom I would never meet again, so I went along with it. As long as she was happy, I thought. Indeed, she seemed to indulge herself in extensive compliments of her good taste for boyfriend from those around her when my fake title was shared. According to Kelvin's prediction, I would well be working for her dad in a few years' time when we get married, and if Shirley so wished it, me, the future son-in-law of the Founder of the company, could become a Managing Director of the IT department one day. So in some ways, this was not entirely false.
I looked up once online how much a Managing Director for the IT Department of such a big company would make in Shanghai. I got a number somewhere between twenty to two hundred times my current yearly salary, depending on the contract terms on bonus and holiday money. Kelvin was right. Shirley was my golden ticket to her grumpy, difficult father's chocolate factory. For me and my parents' good, I should hold on to this meal ticket as hard as I could, despite my growing annoyance for Shirley's haughty ways. She was a good woman underneath it all, it was simply being severely overshadowed by her disdains for everything and everyone less well-to-do. And there she went again..