Shanghai Story: A WWII Drama Trilogy Book One

by Alexa Kang

  Yuri returned to the table, a devilish grin flashing across his face. “Ladies, Saturday night, my friends and I are going to have dinner at the Hungaria Restaurant. Would you like to join us?”

  “The Hungaria?” Miriam asked. “The Nazi haunt?”

  Yuri answered with two exaggerated nods. Eden lowered her eyes. Nazis in Shanghai was one of the strangest sights. How did these racists whose entire belief system rested on their Aryan superiority reconcile their lives in this city, where they had to deal with people of all different races every day?

  “Oooooh! I’ll go!” Lillian clapped her hands together.

  “Are you all serious?” Miriam asked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nothing good could come out of this.”

  “What do you mean?” Yuri put on an innocent face. “The Hungaria is a public place. We have as much right to eat there as they do.”

  “I don’t know . . .” Miriam drew back in her chair.

  “Come on, Mir, Igor’s coming.”

  Miriam’s cautious face relaxed. She paused, then relented. “I guess I haven’t made any plans for Saturday yet.”

  “Eden?” Yuri leaned toward her.

  Eden hesitated. She loathed the Nazis, but what was the point of intruding into their space? No one would really benefit if a fight broke out and someone got hurt. “I’m sorry. I promised my mother I’d go with her to the movies Saturday night.”

  “You’ll miss out,” Lillian said. “Those hooligans. I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.” Eden couldn’t help feeling a tinge of worry. Lillian liked to seek thrills. She hoped Lillian wouldn’t do anything too incendiary that might get her into real trouble.

  “I hope you all have a good time.” Ava closed her fan. “It sounds like a lot of fun. I’d join you if I could, but I’ve got a prior engagement. Speaking of which, I’m afraid I gotta run. Mr. Bernard has to take his bath today.”

  The monkey geckked at the mention of his name. As Ava gathered her things to leave and the waiter cleared the table, Eden glanced once again at the ad in the copy of the China Press. She tore the ad from the page and stuffed it into her purse before Ava got up and said goodbye.

  15

  The China Press

  “I got it! I got it!” Isaac announced as he opened the apartment door. His excitement prompted Eden to come out of her room.

  Dr. Levine looked up from his newspaper. “Got what?”

  “The physician’s assistant job at Hospital Sainte Marie. Dr. Bouchard decided to hire me.”

  “Isaac!” Mrs. Levine put down the new fabric samples. “That’s wonderful news.”

  Even Eden felt happy for him. He’d spent months searching for a job that could keep his dream of becoming a doctor alive. She crossed her arms and leaned against her bedroom doorway. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” His voice softened. The tender yearning in his eyes made her uneasy and she looked away.

  Isaac straightened his face and said to Dr. Levine, “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t recommended me to him.”

  “You deserve it.” Dr. Levine picked up his pipe. “It’s not medical school, but there’s a lot to be said for being an apprentice. When your parents get here and you can apply to medical school, the hands-on experience will put you one step ahead.”

  The mention of his parents dampened the joy on his face. “Medical school is secondary. I only hope they’ll make it here. I got a letter from them today.”

  “What did they say?” asked Mrs. Levine.

  “They said our neighbor, Hans Müller, is helping them take their money out of the country. They’re transferring most of their assets into Hans’s name through what would look like legitimate transactions. The plan is for Hans to sell their assets as quickly as possible, and then take the proceeds and the rest of their cash savings to Switzerland where he can transfer the money here. Hans will have to do this through a series of trips to not raise suspicion, so it’ll take time. But as soon as this is done, they’ll be able to depart Germany and forfeit what appears to be ninety percent of what remains of everything they own.”

  Dr. Levine took a deep drag of his pipe. “I hope it works,” he said. The look of concern on his face did not escape Eden’s eyes.

  “Me too.” Isaac lowered his head.

  “Is Hans trustworthy?” Eden asked.

  “Yes. He’s been our neighbor since before I was born. My parents said he’s one of the few Germans who still come by as usual to see how they’re doing. His wife too.”

  They all fell silent. None of them liked to remember how, back in Germany, people were turning away from Jews, especially those who’d been their friends before the Nazis came to power. When Eden thought of them, her heart still hurt.

  “I’ll be able to sit in on some classes at Aurora University Medical School too. No tuition needed. Dr. Bouchard arranged that.” Isaac tried to put on a bright face.

  The front door opened and in walked Joshua and his new best friend, Hiroshi Dupre. Hiroshi and his family lived next door. His French father worked for a trading company which had sent him to China a decade ago. What began as a temporary overseas assignment turned permanent when he met and married a Japanese woman whose parents also ran businesses in Shanghai.

  “I’m home!” Joshua kicked off his shoes while Hiroshi greeted everyone.

  “Look at you two,” Eden exclaimed. The boys’ heads, faces, and clothes were covered in mud.

  “Where have you two been?” Mrs. Levine stood up. “How’d you get so dirty?”

  “We played baseball.” Joshua pretended to swing a bat. “We met some American kids playing baseball in the park. They invited us to join in. We learned to slide to steal bases.” He and Hiroshi laughed.

  Mrs. Levine grabbed his shoulder and grimaced at his shirt and pants. “You’ll have to wash these clothes yourself. I wouldn’t even be so cruel as to make the housekeeper do it.”

  Joshua’s mouth fell open. Hiroshi grinned, taking delight in Joshua’s misfortune.

  “Don’t laugh just yet, young man,” Mrs. Levine said to him. “I suspect your mother won’t be too happy when she sees you.”

  Hiroshi smirked. “She can’t punish me. Not too hard anyway.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “My teacher in Japanese school said if we hear or know anyone doing anything subversive, we should report it to him.”

  Mrs. Levine frowned. She glided her eyes over to her husband. Dr. Levine pulled his pipe from his lips and held it in midair. In a low, cautious voice, he asked, “Hiroshi, do you know what subversive means?”

  “It means something impure in thoughts,” Hiroshi answered, then added, “I think.”

  “What is ‘impure in thoughts’?”

  “Like being mean to someone. If my mother punishes me too much, that would be mean. It would be my duty to report it to my teacher,” Hiroshi said, matter-of-factly.

  “You have to report even your parents?” Mrs. Levine asked, keeping her voice warm and casual while exchanging looks with all the adults in the room.

  “Um-hmm.” Hiroshi nodded. “Even friends and parents. My teacher said Japan is our homeland. He said we have to protect our homeland, and our homeland depends on us to be its eyes and ears.”

  “I see.” Mrs. Levine pulled Joshua closer to her. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, what do you know. It’s getting late. I must insist Joshua wash up before dinner. You should run along home now too.” She took a couple of shortbread cookies out of the cookie jar. “Here are some treats for you. I bought them at the bakery this morning. Please tell your mother to come over some time so we can enjoy a cup of tea together.” She smiled and opened the door.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Levine.” Hiroshi took the cookies, waved goodbye to Joshua and everyone, and left. When she closed the door, she tapped Joshua on the back. “Go on. You need a bath.”

  Joshua took off his cap and went into the bathroom. After he closed the door, Mrs. Levine turned ar
ound. “Hiroshi’s teacher told him to spy on his parents?”

  “Sounds like he told him to spy on everyone, not just his parents.” Eden looked at the front door, which Hiroshi had gone out a moment ago. What were the Japanese doing? This was what the Nazis taught the Hitler Youth.

  “It’s disturbing,” Dr. Levine said with a solemn face.

  “Should we tell Joshua to stop playing with him?” Mrs. Levine asked.

  “They’re just children,” said her husband. “He and Joshua get along so well. It hasn’t been easy for Joshua moving here. I’d hate to tell him he can’t see his new best friend. It’d be awkward too when we see his parents around.”

  Still frowning, Mrs. Levine straightened Joshua’s shoes on the shoe rack. Eden and Isaac exchanged a silent glance.

  “Don’t worry.” Dr. Levine opened his paper again. “Besides, what can the Japanese do to us? They have no authority over us.”

  “I’m concerned for Keiko and Thierry. Do you think they know?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I should warn Keiko about this.”

  “Perhaps. I’m not sure it’ll do any good. If she takes Hiroshi out of that school, her Japanese friends might wonder why and that could invite all sorts of headaches. Anyway, Hiroshi’s only there to learn Japanese. He goes to French school for regular classes.”

  “I don’t like this. Not one bit.” Mrs. Levine returned to her seat. “At least Keiko has options if the Japanese ever take away her rights because she married a Frenchman. She can always stay with her husband in Shanghai, or Thierry can take her to France. Of course, it would be tough for Keiko if she can’t return to her home country. She already worries Hiroshi might be losing too much of his Japanese culture . . . ”

  Eden uncrossed her arms and returned to her room. She didn’t want to listen anymore. Lately, talk about the difficulties brought on by racial and cultural differences irritated her to no end.

  She’d just sat down to write a letter to their rabbi at the Alte Hauptesynagoge back in Munich when Isaac knocked on the door.

  “Do you have a minute?” he asked.

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Dr. Bouchard’s birthday is in two weeks. He and his wife are hosting a party. They invited me and all his staff. I was wondering if you’d like to come too.”

  Eden put down her pen. Getting the job working for Bouchard meant a lot to him. She’d hate to ruin his excitement. “Sure. When is it?”

  “Friday night on the twenty-first.”

  The twenty-first? She glanced at the calendar on the wall. “Isaac, I want to, but I already have plans.”

  Isaac’s face fell. “Where are you going?” He tried to smile.

  “The Yuans invited me to a performance at the Paramount dance hall. We talked about it when we had dinner at their home. They invited you too, remember? You said you weren’t interested.”

  “Oh. Yeah,” he mumbled and scratched his head.

  “I’m sorry. I would’ve gone with you otherwise.”

  “It’s all right.” He closed her door and left.

  Now she felt bad. She picked up her pen and tried to write again, but couldn’t. It was always this way with Isaac. She never wanted to hurt him, nor could she give him what he wanted. It always ended with him disappointed and her feeling bad.

  She got up from her desk and opened her closet. The emerald green qipao the tailor had custom made for her took her breath away. What an amazing garment. She’d never worn anything like it. Its shape accentuated every part of her curves. The slits running down the sides of her legs titillated without giving away the sense of modesty.

  She ran her fingers down the dress, feeling the silken softness of the fabric. What would Clark think when he saw her in this? Had he ever seen a non-Chinese girl wear a qipao before?

  What a silly thought. Of course he had. She’d seen foreign women in Shanghai wear qipao on the streets.

  He’d never seen her in one before though, and not one designed for the evening.

  No. She closed the closet and tried to shake off the thought. Why did she want to draw his attention? To toy with him? To toy with herself? What was she hoping for?

  Never mind. The Yuans were nice to invite her out for a night. It would be a joyful social outing. They would all have a good time, and that would be that.

  The phone rang in the living room, followed by her mother’s muffled voice behind the door before Mrs. Levine called out, “Eden, phone call.”

  Phone call? At this hour?

  Eden opened her door. “Who is it?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Eden took the receiver. “Hello. This is Eden Levine.”

  “Miss Levine? Sorry for calling you this late. My name is Dottie Lambert—I’m Mr. Saul Zelik’s secretary at the China Press.”

  “Yes?” Eden pressed the phone closer to her ear.

  “We received your application for the opening for a reporter’s position. Mr. Zelik would like to arrange an interview with you. Would you be available to come to our office . . .”

  Eden grabbed the pen and notebook beside the phone and scribbled down the details. Her heart was racing ahead of her mind. They called her! She didn’t think she had a chance. She had no work experience. She only sent in her application thinking she had nothing to lose.

  If the newspaper hired her, they would have two new jobs to celebrate.

  At the headquarters of the China Press, Eden sat on the bench, waiting for someone to call her in to interview with Saul Zelik, the editor-in-chief. The dings and clacks of the typewriters spurred the nervousness she already felt inside. Time ticked by on the clock above the door, her anxiety rising with each passing minute. She’d made sure to arrive early, and she had read the paper daily for the last six days to familiarize herself as thoroughly as possible with everything the China Press published. Now, she’d have to do her best to impress the man who would decide her fate. Or at least, whether she would get the job.

  She opened her small mirror from her purse and checked her face, hoping not to appear too nervous or self-conscious. This was her first job interview. She wanted to make a good impression.

  Calm down, she told herself. On the office floor, no one was even paying attention to her. The typists over by the file cabinets raced their fingers across the keyboards at lightning speed, their minds singularly focused on their work. A gentleman in thick glasses, perhaps an editor, sat hunched over his desk, poring over a document. A phone rang. The plump secretary answered the call, slowly taking down notes as she talked.

  Eden put away her mirror. Looking at everyone here, she realized she really wanted this job. Everyone here had a purpose. This was what had been missing in her life. Volunteering to help the Jewish Defense League was rewarding. Meeting new friends and enjoying all that Shanghai had to offer had been exciting. This? This was something else. If she got this job, she would become an active participant in the Shanghai community. She would have a role in how this city functioned.

  “Miss Levine?” A middle-aged woman walked up to her. She was Dottie Lambert, the one who’d called to arrange the interview.

  “Yes.” Eden gathered her purse and stood up.

  “Mr. Zelik would like to see you now.”

  Eden followed her to the large corner office. Behind the desk, the editor-in-chief motioned for Eden to take a seat. Eden sat down, pretending to smooth her skirt while she wiped the sweat off her palms.

  The door closed behind Dottie. Quietly, Eden took a deep breath. She was on her own.

  Saul Zelik picked up Eden’s application from his desk. “Miss Levine.”

  “Yes, sir.” Eden clutched her purse and leaned forward.

  Still looking at the paper in his hand, he squinted. “You’ve never worked as a reporter before. What made you decide to apply for this job?”

  Eden wetted her lips. She’d anticipated this question and rehearsed the answer before the interview. “I have excellent writing skills. My teachers
always said so when I was in school. I’m an observant person and I’m good at picking up details. I think I’ll be a very good reporter.”

  Zelik stared at her with a blank face.

  “I’m very organized and prepared, and I’m willing to work hard too,” Eden said. The editor-in-chief’s expression did not change. She twiddled her fingers. Was she saying something wrong? Did he find her answers unsatisfactory?

  Flustered, she forgot her prepared script and blurted out, “The truth is, I want to do something more meaningful. I don’t want to spend my days being a lady of leisure. I’ve read your paper. I like that you have a lot of articles about the Chinese, more than the other English-language newspapers here. I came to Shanghai four months ago. It seems to me that many people who came from the West live very dissociated lives from the locals, and I don’t think that’s good. We live here. Everything that happens to the Chinese can affect us. We need to understand the lives of the Chinese people and know what’s happening to them.”

  Zelik’s expression eased. A little smile crept up to his face.

  Seeing a ray of hope, Eden pressed on. “I want this job so I can understand what’s going on in China. And then, I can write about it and share what I discover to help keep everyone informed. I think that’s very important.”

  “I agree.” Zelik tossed her application back onto his desk. “Our focus on the Chinese is one thing that distinguishes us from the other publications. You said you want to understand the lives of the Chinese people. Would you be comfortable investigating news outside of the International Settlement and Frenchtown? If we hire you, we’ll need you to cover news both inside and outside the Western foreign districts. You’re a young European woman. You don’t speak Chinese. Running around the city alone investigating news can be very frightening. Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I’m not afraid,” Eden said with confidence. “I’m taking Chinese classes. I run around everywhere already. I visit the Old City regularly to help my mother buy fabrics. She has a small business making custom children’s clothes. I even got arrested once by the Chinese police.”