by Ed Lin
“You did that to your birds?” I asked, picking up my walking pace.
Yip had memorized my footpost and he waited for me along the route like a puppy that wants to play all the time. A slow-walking puppy that talked too much and reminded me of all the disappointments I was having on the job.
His never-ending presence brought so many things to the surface, I almost couldn’t see straight. There was my visit to my mother’s, getting dumped by Barbara, the dinner with Vandyne where he basically shrugged off on helping me get onto the detective track.
Of course I couldn’t forget that Yip himself had told his pal Lily that she could do some matchmaking for me. I couldn’t stand being around Yip anymore, but I did the Chinese thing by frowning at him a lot without telling him what was bothering me.
“You bet I fed my birds chili pepper!” said Yip, stepping quicker to keep up with me. A grating sound came from the laundry cart as another wheel threatened to break off.
“Maybe you should get a new laundry cart,” I said.
“This one’s good enough.”
I waved to the midget as we walked past the northern boundary of the park. He nodded and popped something in his mouth.
“That’s kind of mean, treating your birds like that,” I said.
“I never killed any of my birds. It’s like a little kid eating hot food for the first time. Some of them even started to like it.”
“I never had birds.”
“Maybe you should get one! Birds are the best pets. They sound beautiful and they’re nice decorations, too. You don’t need to walk them, and they’re so easy to feed.”
“Where are you going?” I suddenly asked Yip.
“To Bayard. That way.” He pointed down the street.
“Do you need a hand?”
“No, no, no! I’m fine!” He set the cart down and his eyes went teary. “These are Wah’s clothes. I’m going to donate them to charity. I can’t have them in the apartment anymore.”
I looked at the laundry cart. Everything had been stuffed in a dirty plastic garbage bag. If that was Wah’s entire wardrobe, it couldn’t have filled three dresser drawers. I had more clothes than her when I was a kid.
“Where are you going to donate them?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
I took a deep breath. “How about taking them down to the church?” I asked.
“That’s a good idea! Which one?”
“Any church,” I said.
He had a lost look on his face.
“I’ve never been to a church. I don’t know which one to go to,” he said, biting his lips.
I felt a little bad for being so sharp with him. I looked at his little noodle arms. “How about the Lutheran church at the end of the park? I’m sure they have some sort of needy program.”
“The one with the tiny windows?”
“By the bend in the street.”
“I know that one! I walk by it every day!” He walked by it every day because I walked by it every day.
“Okay, Yip, I have to keep walking here.”
“Okay, Officer Chow! I’ll see you later!” He picked up the handle to his laundry cart again.
“Yeah, see you later, Yip.” I watched the cart slip out of his hands, smash against the curb and fall over. I turned and walked away before he could ask me for help.
If I didn’t watch myself, I’d end up taking those clothes down to the church myself. After that, I’d be carrying Yip up and down the stairs.
Chapter 8
On February 7, the communist-biased newspaper boasted that Beijing had named Hua Kuo Feng to succeed Chou En Lai as acting premier. Judging from the photo, Hua had the official look down pat — strong nose bridge, thick eyebrows, and big forehead.
I spent the end of my 1600-0000 footpost walking past closed storefronts and avoiding puddles.
I got back home and landed on my couch. It was about 0100, a time when all the good American shows were already over. I dragged out a few Japanese beers from the fridge and flipped over to the Chinese channels.
The Taiwan news program talked about how rising crime in America was due to violent shows like “S.W.A.T.” and “Barretta.” They didn’t know these shows were about fighting crime, and that the bad guys always got caught.
The communist channel was broadcasting a concert put on by steelworkers’ kids. Boys and girls dressed in scratchy gray suits hacked away with their bows. They were so stupidly serious in the close-ups that it looked funny. If they could have seen themselves, they would have fallen over laughing, but their eyes were fixed hard on the music sheets, as if the notes would change if they blinked.
The wide-angle shots were a hoot, too. Seeing that much black hair bobbing in time made me think of industrious worker ants storing up food for the winter.
I guess that made me the lazy grasshopper.
I laughed hard at that and pulled my feet up on the couch and stretched out.
There was a rude knock at my door. I shook my head and stood up, surprised at how stiff I felt.
I pulled the door open and a man came tumbling on top of me. It was Vandyne.
“What the hell’s wrong with you!” he shouted at me. I stood there in a stupor, not knowing what I had done. I felt like I’d been caught not cleaning my room.
“Were you leaning on my door?”
“I was trying to listen in! How many knocks does it take for you to answer the door!” Vandyne shouted again.
“Cripes, what are you yelling about?” I asked. My mouth had gone dry and my voice was breaking. “Here, I want to show you something funny on the television.” I tripped
over to the couch, but the television was tuned to a show in German.
All the Asian channels switched over to European languages at 0500. That meant that it must be morning. I’d fallen asleep and the night was over. It made me smile.
“What’s so funny? All I see is some fool sitting on his couch drinking all night. That’s not funny. That’s sad. You drink all this last night?” Vandyne thundered, kicking away an empty bottle.
“No,” I lied, “it’s from this week.”
“You’ve got six, seven bottles sitting around. Nice life you got yourself here.”
“You know that you’re cramping my style?” I lay back down on the couch and leaned my head back to a comfortable angle. “Why are you barging in here at this sensitive time in my life?”
“Sensitive! Your problem is that you’re anything but sensitive!” Vandyne was sputtering. “This couple came into the Five, saying you assaulted them during the Chinese New Year parade. They also said you used inappropriate language and your breath smelled of alcohol.”
I sat upright and cracked my neck bones.
“Fucking bullshit!” I said. “They were interfering with a police officer in the line of duty!”
“They’re schoolteachers from Connecticut. They were there with their students. And they had a TV camera, Chow!”
“They touched me! You put your hands on someone, you better be able to back that up. I don’t care if they’re teachers or Muhammad Ali!”
“We’re not talking about a scrap. You took on two liberals! They’re going to the Civilian Complaint Review Board.”
The CCRB sounded impressive, but it actually had no teeth. Maybe I’d get an order to do push-ups. I laughed at the thought of it.
“The CCRB! What a joke! That’s not going to be a problem, Vandyne.”
“You need help for your drinking,” Vandyne said, softening up. “That’s the honest truth, brother.” He didn’t know what to do or say, and that made me feel like I’d let him down.
“Vandyne, everything’s going to be all right, man. It’s okay,” I said.
“One thing a good relationship will do for you is give you a source of strength. You need a good woman.”
“You know what the divorce rates are like?”
“You take care of each other, you don’t have to worry about it. Look at
how my wonderful marriage works.”
“Then how come you don’t have kids?”
Vandyne made a face like he needed some dental floss. Then he relaxed a little and changed the subject.
“Anyway, Chow, that invitation to come to our home for dinner is still open. You should come soon. Rose hasn’t seen you in a while, and you’ll have another shot at making a good impression on her.”
“Later this month. I promise. Tell me what to bring.”
“Bring the good Robert Chow.”
The last time I had seen Rose was at the minority policemen’s picnic in Central Park. I’d known that alcohol wouldn’t be served, so I’d juiced up before going.
I remembered laughing with people and having a good time. A few days later, they told me that I’d puked in a cooler.
A wave of exhaustion came over me and I thought about getting into bed.
“I’ll come over for dinner soon, but right now I’m just gonna hit the sheets,” I told Vandyne. The television suddenly seemed to grow in volume. I pointed to the set and said, “Vandyne, can’t you turn that thing down?”
—
I was coming around Doyers Street later that week when the barber Law called out to me. He was leaning against the open door of the barber shop, smoking.
“Robert,” he said, “when are you going to let me finish your haircut? It’s still lopsided. You look like a crazy person.”
“My hair looks fine,” I said. “Everything’s grown out. Anyway, I’ve got my cap on.”
“I can tell there’s something wrong! It’s bad publicity for my shop!” Law stuck his cigarette into one side of his mouth and reached out with both his hands. “Look at this!” he said, pulling off my cap and brushing my hair. “Awful!”
Seriously, it had been looking all right to me. Barbara, too, I thought. But maybe it had been one more thing that had turned her off.
“I don’t have time for this right now,” I told Law.
Law looked my cap over. “What’s this?” He pointed at the playing card stuck into the clear plastic pocket inside the crown.
I grabbed my hat back and stuck it back on top of my head.
“What was that, the eight of hearts?” asked Law.
“Yeah, the eight of hearts.”
“What’s it doing there?”
“It’s for good luck. A lot of cops have pictures of Jesus or Mary stuck in there so they don’t get shot. All I need is the eight of hearts.”
“With your hair like that, you already look like you don’t have a full deck up there, okay? Hey, come inside. Let me finish. Hey, free! I’ll do it free!”
“Law, I don’t have time right now.”
“If you didn’t have that uniform, everyone would think you were a delinquent!” he muttered, slipping inside the barbershop. He sucked on the cigarette like it was holding something back on him.
“I have a shield and a gun!” I said after him. “That’s how people know I’m good!”
After the shift was over I went back to Martha’s to go see Lonnie. The place was a madhouse in the morning, but in the early evening, it was nearly empty. An old couple sitting near the door shared a cup of coffee and a Taiwan newspaper. A small piece of wax paper with some crumbs on it sat on the table between them.
The punk kids who usually slummed around the bakery weren’t around. I hadn’t seen them since I’d shaken up their leader.
Lonnie was sweeping the floor. Dori was probably in the bathroom, running an emery board over her fangs.
“Officer Chow,” Lonnie said with surprise, her face reddening slightly.
“Hi Lonnie. I just came back here to ask you something,” I said.
“Yes. What is it?” she asked.
“Well, you put something in my bag this morning, with
the hot dog buns and coffee.” I pulled out the crumpled flyer from my back pocket. “I’m sorry, but the coffee spilled on it. There’s some kind of church dance or something this Saturday?”
Lonnie was very red now. “Yes, my church is having a spring dance. It’s to celebrate the new year even though it’s on Valentine’s Day. It’s not really a big thing. Not too many people go. It’s not important.”
“Are you asking me to go?” I asked.
“I didn’t know if you like dancing,” she said.
“Are you going?”
“I’m on the dance committee, so I have to be there. I’m in charge, actually. It’s to raise money for the youth programs.”
“Is this something I need a date for?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Well, you can just come by yourself if you want.”
“Something tells me that I’m going to be the only one there who’s old enough to drink.”
“We don’t allow alcohol at any church functions. It’s just a social kind of thing. I don’t have a boyfriend, so you know, I’ll dance with anyone who wants to.”
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“You don’t have to dance. There’ll be good music to listen
to there.”
“I really don’t think I’m going to go, Lonnie. There’s a big game on that night. Rangers and Islanders.”
“You’d rather stay at home and watch a baseball game?”
“Hockey.”
“Well, maybe the next dance, you won’t have anything to watch.”
“Yeah, next time,” I said.
“I have to go get the mop,” Lonnie said, backing away. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, officer.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. Lonnie dragged her broom into the back and I walked to the door.
“Hey!” the old woman said to me. “You!”
“Me?” I asked.
“You’re that policeman, right?” she asked. The old man grunted and rustled the newspaper he was hiding behind.
“Which one?” I asked.
“The one in the newspapers.”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“You don’t know anything about women, do you? No wonder you’re always by yourself.”
“I’m alone but I’m not lonely.”
“Shut up!” she said. “Didn’t you know that pretty girl was asking you to go to the dance with her?”
“I was waiting for her to ask me.”
“She was asking you to ask her!” insisted the old woman.
The old man grunted again. “Why are you like this?” he asked the woman in a smoky voice. “When you muddy up the water, no one can drink.”
“You mind your own business!” the woman said to the man before turning back to me. “You’re not going to be young forever,” she said, taking a rationed sip of coffee.
You sure didn’t stay young, lady, I thought.
I looked at Lonnie stagger around with the mop. I stuck my hands in my pockets and shifted my feet. I looked into my heart and found something there.
—
Lonnie’s church was Transfiguration, which was on the inner elbow of Mott Street. The dance was being held to raise funds and to celebrate the Chinese New Year. They couldn’t have had it on the actual day, since most of the young people had to be with their families.
The huge church with the stone-and-iron fence out front was an imposing sight in Chinatown mostly because it was bigger and more solid than the surrounding crappy brick tenements. The church looked like a stone battleship run aground on a Hong Kong block.
Transfiguration ran after-school and weekend Bible and pre-college study programs for kids. The details and hours were posted in a glass case mounted on the outdoor fence. Another glass case had a list of last year’s high-school grads who had also attended the church’s programs. Next to their names were the colleges they had gotten into in English. The non-Ivy League colleges had phonetic Chinese characters next to them so people would know how to say them.
I put my back against the case and checked my watch again. Lonnie was 15 minutes late already. I heard muffled beats
from the church’s basement. I reached up and batted a red balloon tied to the iron fence. I felt stupid. I was an old man, I didn’t go to church, I didn’t go to college, and now I was being stood up for a teeny-bopper dance.
I looked down at my wing-tipped Florsheims. I’d wasted a quarter on a polish and shine from the shoe guy by Columbus Park. I licked my thumb where I had burned it slightly on the iron. I’d forgotten you were only supposed to touch the handle.
A group of five boys in black suede jackets walked by. Two of them had their hair brushed into the Bruce Lee/flattened cotton swab look.
I watched them as they went up Mott and one of them looked back at me. I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. He smiled and pointed to my right.
I turned and saw Lonnie. Her hair was done in curls. She wore dark blue eye shadow with wet red lipstick that made her lips glisten wickedly. Two obviously fake diamond earrings shook nervously under her jaw, but you couldn’t be unhappy about them on a girl like her.
She had on a black wool coat that was a little short. I stared at her legs. The long uniform skirt of Martha’s didn’t have a slit, and I’d never gotten a good enough look at them. The sight of those legs could derail a train.
“Robert, look at you, wearing a jacket and a shirt! I can’t believe you got so dressed up!” When she touched my arm, it bothered me because it made me think of her in a sexual manner. I had always found her attractive, otherwise I wouldn’t have talked to her so much at Martha’s, but I never had the thoughts I was having now. And to be walking into a church at this point, even for a non-believer, felt horribly wrong.
“Are you okay, Robert? Why are you making that face?”
“What kind of face?”
“Like you’re scared.”
“I’m okay.” I patted my pocket to check my wallet and I was dimly aware that my left arm was slightly restrained by Lonnie’s right hand. I guess I could have slipped her hand into mine very easily, and maybe she was waiting for me to. I wasn’t sure what to do, and I was still thinking about it when we got to the door. Lonnie broke off and pulled the door open.
“Officers first,” she said.
“Thank you, miss.” We walked in past the closed doors of the administrative offices. Upbeat music floated up from below. It sounded familiar and got louder as we went down the stairs.