by Ed Lin
“Lonnie, don’t worry, you’re not going to be there forever. You’re going to finish school,” I said. I couldn’t think of the next thing to say. I was feeling warmer and it was getting hard for me to focus. My ears were feeling tickly.
“Are you okay, Policeman Chow?” asked Lonnie, looking worried.
I sat down next to her and put the bottle between my feet.
“That liquor was strong stuff,” I said. It occurred to me that I never bothered to check the proof. I bent down to pick up the bottle, but came up with Lonnie’s hand instead.
I moved in and kissed her mouth hard. She turned her head and bit her V-shaped teeth into my neck. I shucked her coat off down to her arms. She let go of me to get the sleeves off and wrapped her legs around my waist. That was how I carried her into the bedroom.
—
The sound of cars honking woke me up. I was lying in bed, completely naked except for one dress sock. My arm was stretched over my nightstand and my alarm clock was on the floor. My throat and head ached. My lips and fingers were sore. I couldn’t remember too much. I went out to the living room and saw an empty bottle on the coffee table. That was explanation enough.
I went by the window and I could tell by the way the cars were double-parked that it was a weekend. I went to the fridge and got a beer. Everything was going to be okay.
I went to the bathroom and found a note from Lonnie on the closed toilet lid.
“Thank you for everything, Robert. I hope I didn’t talk too much and bother you.” Her phone number was at the bottom.
Can’t be bothered when you can’t remember. I decided not to call her because I didn’t want to ruin whatever lie she’d told her dad and stepmom about last night. Even if Lonnie was the one who picked up, you can hear a phone conversation from every room in a Chinatown apartment.
I folded the note up, put it in the wastebasket, and lifted the toilet seat.
—
When I came into Martha’s on Monday, Lonnie wasn’t there. Dori was impatiently showing a new girl what to do. It was unseasonably warm that day and Dori seemed hotter under the collar than usual.
“Don’t put the tongs on the counter, otherwise the customers might steal them. Put them on the shelf behind you,” Dori said. The girl nodded and didn’t say anything.
“Is Lonnie okay?” I asked Dori.
“Ha! She never came in this weekend. She had to be replaced.”
“She never showed up? What happened?”
“You’re the policeman, you tell me. Ask your missing persons department. If Lonnie’s not working here, you don’t have a reason to come back, right?” She was gloating.
“Aren’t you worried about her? You’ve been working together for years.”
“I could always tell she wasn’t going to make it,” said Dori with a smile. “She was very clumsy and she wasn’t too smart.” Then to the trainee, Dori said, “This is the policeman who was in love with the old girl. If you don’t look out, he’s going to start liking you, too.”
“I’ll have one hot-dog pastry and an iced coffee,” I said to the trainee, absently. Where was Lonnie?
The trainee picked up the tongs and looked uncertainly from tray to tray.
“Here, here, I got it,” grunted Dori as she threw aside a sliding window and spanked a pastry into a cellophane bag. “Go make the officer an iced coffee,” she said to the trainee.
When the new girl returned with my drink, Dori snatched it from her and held it up, looking at the color of the coffee through the transparent-plastic cup.
“You didn’t shake it enough,” Dori snapped. She gave it a shake and the lid flew off. Coffee poured all over her shoes and ice cubes skittered across the counter. “You stupid, stupid little girl!” Dori screamed. “You didn’t seal the lid properly!”
The trainee gave Dori the finger and came around the counter. I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it when everyone in line behind me applauded the girl on her way out the door.
“You don’t deserve to work here!” Dori screamed. That was so true. I thought about her spending the rest of the day in soggy socks. Some people deserve that.
She took a towel and wiped off the counter and her legs. Then she went to pour me a new iced coffee. She dropped it into a brown paper bag and tossed in my hot-dog pastry. Her face was red enough to stop traffic.
I paid Dori and stepped aside. I couldn’t imagine being behind that counter by myself and handling all those Monday morning customers. She was in for it.
On my way out, I saw Moy cramped in the corner seat by the window. He looked unusually well-dressed in a button-down knit and wool trousers.
“Moy, shouldn’t you be dusting off some G.I. Joe dolls?”
“Oh, no! I’m waiting for someone.” He smiled a little.
“A woman? Are you on a date? Little early for that, isn’t it?” It was five to seven.
“No, not a date. She’s my girlfriend. We’ve been together for almost two weeks now. We got together over New Year’s and we’re going out.”
“You’ve got a girlfriend and you never told me! I can’t
believe it! After all the years I’ve known you! Congratulations!”
“I wanted to keep things private. I haven’t even told my father.”
“That’s amazing. Where is she?”
“It’s Dori,” he said. I was dimly aware of dropping my bag.
“Moy, are you crazy?”
“I know you two don’t get along. She’s a tough woman. You didn’t have to laugh at her just now, when that girl quit.”
“I’m sorry about that. But Moy, you know Dori hates me.”
“She said you gave her cousin a parking ticket a few years ago.”
“I probably did. It’s my job.”
“But it was her cousin. Do you understand?”
“I’d give a ticket to my own mother if she broke the law.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Moy, what happened to Lonnie?”
“She quit, I guess. I don’t know where she went.”
—
I was on the footpost, coming up to Jade Palace and the hunger strikers. This time Willie Gee’s hired gorilla was standing in the street. He would say something into his shirt from time to time. To the left of the entrance, the stool-pigeon waiters held waist-level signs reading “Jade Palace Is Fair Employer” in English, and “Go Bury Your Parents” in Chinese, directed at the protestors.
To the right, three hunger strikers lay on cots surrounded by protesters with signs that read “Stop Stealing Money” in English and “Stop Killing Us” in Chinese.
It was about 1000 — too early for anyone to show much enthusiasm. People on both sides, apart from the hunger strikers, were drinking coffee and reading newspapers. I looked at the hunger strikers and saw a girl with her arms crossed and her eyes closed. She had a thin blanket wrapped around her. It was Lonnie.
I went up to her and shook her awake.
“Lonnie, what are you doing out here?” I asked.
“Robert!” she said, smiling weakly. “I haven’t eaten
anything for two days.”
“You’ve got to get out of here. This is hurting your body.”
“I want to thank you for listening to me the other night. You told me how hard it was for you to be a policeman, but it was something you really wanted to do. You told me to find something I believed in, and this protest is it.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell you to join the hunger strike.” “Yes, you did.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it. I was drunk, you shouldn’t listen to me when I’m like that.”
“I feel so much better, I’m working for justice here.”
“You’re not helping anyone by not eating,” I said.
“My mind’s made up. I’m staying here.”
“No, you’re not,” I said. I reached in and pulled her up. “We’re going to get something to eat.” She came up easily, but then something pulled
her away from me.
“What the hell are you doing, you fucking pig!” said a young man who looked like a campus liberal.
“She’s leaving here right now!” I said. He put his hand on me and I pushed him against the wall of Jade Palace. I put my elbow into his gut. “You take her place on the hunger strike. I’m feeling a lot of fat here that you could lose.” He was running out of air and the rest of the protesters were jumping around as if someone had turned a hotplate on under their feet.
“Stop that cop!”
“Get that pig!”
“He’s working for Jade Palace!”
I grabbed Lonnie’s arm and led her away to a chorus of boos. I turned back and saw Willie Gee’s King Kong character smiling. He waved at me daintily with his fingers and made kissy lips.
—
I got Lonnie into an over-rice place and ordered pork, chicken, and preserved greens for her.
The cook was in the back of the tiny dining room straightening out a small altar for Guan Gong, an old Chinese general who was now worshipped as a god.
He flicked his lighter and lit up the incense sticks and a cigarette. The cook grunted when the waitress tapped his shoulder. He took a long drag on his cigarette before dropping it to the tile floor and mushing it with his filthy sneaker. He pushed into the kitchen’s swinging doors and disappeared.
Lonnie poured us two cups of tea.
“I don’t understand you, Robert. Why did you pull me out?” She sipped her hot tea and shivered. “I know it’s warm out but I feel so cold. It’s almost 60 degrees in February can you believe it?”
“Lonnie, a woman your age still has to develop. Not getting the proper nutrition now could lead to birth defects.”
“Who said I wanted to have children?”
“Lonnie, you don’t even know these people. They could be brainwashing you, like what happened to Patty Hearst. You could be doing this against your will.”
“Nobody made me do anything. I believe in the cause. Anyway, I cheated a little on the hunger strike. I drank some soy milk this morning.”
“Soy milk. I’m sure that made a big difference.”
We were quiet for a bit.
Lonnie said, “This is the second time we’ve sat together in a restaurant.”
“Sure it is. You’re the only one who’s going to be eating, though.”
“Is this our second date?” she asked, smiling.
“No. This is my feed-the-children program.”
“Are you surprised I wasn’t a virgin?”
“I’m not surprised by anything, Lonnie. I’m trained to expect the unexpected.”
The food came in and Lonnie went to work at it.
“I’m so hungry, I have to eat slowly or I’m going to choke.”
“Take your time, Lonnie. I stopped by Martha’s and Dori had a new trainee in your place.”
“I feel sorry for her — the trainee.”
“Actually, she quit. I’m sure Martha’s would take you back in a second.”
“Maybe. I was a really good worker.” She ate quietly for a while, then asked, “Do you remember what else we talked about that night?”
“I don’t. I barely remember you coming over.”
“You said you would help my younger brother out.”
“What’s wrong with your brother?”
“Our stepmother keeps beating him and throwing him out of the apartment. He has a girlfriend and she doesn’t want him to start dating until he’s in college.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad. She should learn to live with it.”
“She’s evil. She doesn’t want me to move out until I get married, even though I probably have enough to get a place with some roommates. If I did, I’d give it to my brother so he could live somewhere else. He’s really smart and talented. He really deserves a chance to get out of here.” Lonnie twisted her mouth like she was trying to stop herself from crying.
“Does she ever hit you?” I asked her.
“No, as a matter of fact, she thinks she’s my best friend. She always wants to share makeup.”
I took a deep breath and then I asked, “Has your family been to counseling? Or maybe you want to consider family court?”
“Counseling? That’s only for sick, crazy people! And family court just breaks up families. We already have one divorce, we don’t need another.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, crossing my ankles.
“I’ll tell you what. Your brother can stay with me, but he has to get a job and pay part of the rent. How about that?”
“That’s what you said that night!” she said. “Do you really mean it, now that you’re not drunk?”
“Sure, I do. Any brother of yours is a brother of mine. Of course, he also has to do some work around the apartment.”
She nodded and chewed.
“Lonnie, I’ve got to go make my rounds. It doesn’t look good for a policeman to be sitting around.” I stood up.
“Thank you so much for helping my brother. I’m going to tell him to stop by your place.”
“No problem. I’ll tell you what, this food’s on me, too.”
Lonnie’s mouth was full, so she smiled and chewed.
I went up to the counter and paid the tab. I pointed to Lonnie and warned the cashier: “Don’t let her go until she’s done eating everything. I don’t care how long it takes.”
Chapter 9
February 20th was a warm but cloudy day in Chinatown. For the first time, the covers on the Taiwan and the communist newspapers were the same: ex-President Nixon and his wife were visiting the mainland for a week-long tour. Maybe the Chinese wanted tips on bugging offices.
I shivered. Cold sweat stuck my undershirt to my chest. It was about 1400. The park was devoid of cheer but had plenty of gray people and gray pigeons.
I saw the midget sipping a cold soybean drink, his arm propped up on the back of the bench he was sitting on. Opposite him, an Asian man in his mid-40s, about five-four, was twisting his lips with his left hand. He was in a spot. The midget waved to me.
“Officer Chow, how are you?”
“Good! And you?” I asked.
“Hey, stop talking! You’re trying to disrupt my thinking!” growled the midget’s opponent.
“It’s too late to think your way out of this one,” I said.
“Maybe you could use ESP to flip the board. That’s the only way your brain could help you now,” said the midget. His opponent laughed quickly, then his face returned to being grim. He tightened his left hand into a fist and propped his chin on it.
“Officer Chow, can you suggest a move?” he asked with exasperation. His name was Chi and he ran a small restaurant over on Market Street under the Manhattan Bridge overpass.
“Maybe one of the cannons. . .” I started, but the midget tapped one of his own pieces. “My mistake. Missed that. Maybe you should just come back and lose again tomorrow.”
“You better believe it’s hopeless if Officer Chow is telling you to quit. He’s the law,” said the midget.
“It’s just as well,” Chi said, getting up. As he stood, I saw a
horrifically bloodied apron wrapped around his waist. Most restaurants bought cut-up pig and chicken meat to roast, but Chi bought carcasses and chopped up his own meat.
The apron looked like something a flesh-eating zombie would wear.
“I’ve got to go back to work now,” said Chi. “Officer Chow, you come by some time after closing and have some spare ribs with me and the rest of the kitchen. I always save the best for the staff.”
“Thank you, I will,” I said.
“One quick game,” the midget said to me. And it was quick. It took longer to set up than to play. Then I went home and had a nightmare about the apron.
—
Vandyne and his wife lived in a big ugly brick house in Elmhurst, Queens. The grouting was stained. Two bony evergreen bushes crouched on either side of the door. I came up the three steps to the porch and pressed t
he plastic doorbell.
Someone inside came over and shook off chains before opening the door.
“Robert, I’m so glad you could finally come over,” Rose said. Vandyne’s wife was wearing a flower-print dress with a Winnie-the-Pooh apron over it. Her braids had been tied back and her forehead was glistening with sweat. She was light-skinned and had metallic flakes of green in her brown eyes that sparkled when you looked right into them.
“I hope you’re in for some heavy lifting. I’ve made six of my favorite dishes.”
“Rose, I didn’t know you were going to go through this much trouble. We’re slobs — we’re not worth it,” I said.
“It’s no trouble!” she said.
“As long as you’ve got rice and chopsticks, everything’s cool.” I came in and wiped off my shoes.
“I’ve got some yellow rice with the chicken. . .” she said in a searching and apologetic tone while shutting the door behind me.
“Rose, that’s a joke, about the rice and all. Anything you’ve made will be wonderful.”
Vandyne got up from the reclining chair and clapped my back.
“Glad you came out all this way,” he said.
“I’m pleased and honored to be here.”
“Would you guys like beers?” asked Rose. Vandyne shot her a look and Rose stuttered, “Or some Coke or juice or water?”
“Yeah, tonight’s not a drinking night,” I said. “I’ll have a Coke.”
“Have a seat, Chow.” I dropped onto the plastic-covered couch next to Vandyne’s chair.
“What’s the idea with this?” I asked, drawing my hand up and down my chest.
“This?” asked Vandyne, flopping his tie up. “We don’t have company over often, so I wanted to air out this tie while I had the chance.” It had a loud orange paisley pattern on it. Vandyne flopped the tie again. “Christmas present.”
“From who? Santa Pimp?” We had a good laugh about that. Rose dropped off two Cokes and Vandyne and I turned to the television. It was a show about snow leopards.
I looked under the television stand and saw a dusty plastic box.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“That’s a video-tennis game down there. I haven’t played it in months. I just keep it hooked up because I get better reception with it plugged in.”