by Lois Winston
“You amaze me, Richard. You really do. Did you find out all of this last night?” I asked in an awed tone of voice.
“Well, most of it,” he answered humbly. “Hey, it’s what I do, Lee.”
“This is all for real? I mean, you’re sure of it?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. And forget going to see her. The prosecution isn’t letting anyone near Grace Wong, not even her father and mother. Boy, is her lawyer going to have to do some dancing, no pun intended. She is totally uncooperative. From what I understand, she just sits and stares at the cops every time they question her. The police are starting not to like our China Doll, and I don’t like that.”
“I don’t like that, either,” I said, chewing on my lower lip. “Richard, don’t call her China Doll any more. It’s demeaning.”
“It is?” Richard asked in an astonished voice.
“Yes.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“Richard, none of this sounds right,” I said. “I don’t know what; I can’t place it, but something’s definitely wrong. I need to think about this.”
“Okay. I gotta go.” He expelled a deep sigh. “I’m going to lie down on one of the sofas for a couple of hours before my real day starts. When do you go home?”
I glanced up at the wall clock. “In about an hour. Richard, thank you so very, very much. Get some sleep.”
“You’re so very, very welcome,” he replied, mocking my tone. “Call me later if you think of anything. We’re partners in this, you know.”
“You bet we are!” I responded.
~*~
An hour later, Mom arrived with Tío. Necessary paperwork was signed, and they drove me home. All the way back, Tío spoke enthusiastically about Tugger and his antics.
I was heartsick to admit it, but I knew it was the right thing to give the cat to my uncle. The thought of parting with Tugger filled me with more emptiness than I would have believed possible. I credited it to maternal hormones acting up. I’d just have to get over it, that’s all, I told myself. Maybe they had some pills for this kind of thing. I’d ask the doctor on my next visit. After all, a cat was just a cat…unless it was Tugger.
They fussed over me on the trip back to the apartment, until I thought I would scream. I turned the key in the lock, called out, and saw an orange and white ball of fluff run from the kitchen towards us. I half expected Tugger to run to Tio’s feet, but he didn’t. He stopped at mine, giving me his small, silent meow. I bent down closer to him. He, meanwhile, rubbed my ankles and purred loudly.
“Look!” I turned to Tío and Mom in utter happiness, “He remembers me. He likes me!”
“Of course, he remembers you, Liana,” Mom said matter-of-factly. “My goodness, it’s only been five days,” she added, as she went into the kitchen.
“He was lonely, mi sobrina,” Tío confirmed. “He would roam around looking for you. I spent last night on the sofa with him.”
“Oh, Tío,” I murmured. “You didn’t have to do that. Or, at least, you could have slept in my bed.” I held the purring animal in my arms and looked down at his contented, half-closed eyes. “I missed you, you little scamp. I’m so glad you missed me.”
“I’ve never gotten a greeting like this from Liana. Have you, Mateo? I think she likes that stupid cat more than she likes us,” Lila said, as she came to the kitchen door and looked at both of us, laughter in her eyes.
“I’m brewing some green tea,” she added, walking towards the hall closet and taking out bed linens. “I read an article yesterday that says it’s one of nature’s cure-alls. Then we’re going to leave you to rest.” She looked directly at me.
I set the kitten down and went to my mother, who was unfolding a blanket. I reached out and hugged her. “Mom, thank you for all you’ve done. You, too, Tío.” I crossed over to him and walked into his bear-like hug. “I’m so lucky.”
“Don’t go maudlin on us, Liana, or I’ll think there’s more to your head injury than the doctors say there is.” Mom smiled as she made up the sofa.
“Besides, it’s unnecessary. Now lie down,” she ordered. “The sweat suit you’re wearing can double as your pajamas for now.”
“Liana is never maudlin, if it means what I think it means,” Tío countered good-naturedly. “It means boring, right?”
“Not exactly, Mateo. It means overly sentimental,” Mom answered.
“She is emotional, our Liana. She is vibrant! She is a Latina!” he said with gusto. All three of us laughed, as I wrapped myself in a blanket on the sofa. Mom served the tea.
Lila was right, though. I had become maudlin, insipid, and overly sentimental. I guess that’s what a life and death experience can do to you.
Maybe I would snap out of it in a day or two. If not, I would rent a few Andy Hardy movies. They were enough to snap anybody out of anything. The kitten ran over and curled up in my lap. I felt another pang of guilt about depriving my uncle of Tugger’s company.
“Mi sobrina,” Tío said abruptly, as if reading my thoughts, “now that you are home and able to care for Tagger…”
“Tugger, Tío,” I said.
“Si, Tugger,” he repeated carefully. “I will be going to the animal shelter every day to help take care of some of the less fortunate ones there.”
“What?” I gasped, nearly spilling tea on Tugger.
His eyes sparkled with pride. “Yes, I have gone to the shelter and volunteered my time for the last week or so when I was not here or at the hospital. I find I enjoy taking care of animals, and there is so great a need,” he finished solemnly. “Your mother has even suggested I build a few cages in the backyard for the recuperating ones until we can find each of them a good home.”
“You do realize, Mateo,” interjected Lila, “that Palo Alto has a very strict ordinance regarding the number of animals allowed in a private residence at one time.” She poured herself more tea, content in the realization she had taken the side of the right and the just. Mothers.
“Oh, si, and we will never go over that amount,” he answered. “We must not break any laws…but bending them occasionally, I do not mind,” he added with a twinkle. Mom and I could see his mind drifting back in time and instinctively waited for him to speak.
“I always wanted a dog, but your Tía was allergic, so it was not possible. Besides, with my long days and nights at the restaurant, my life was too busy.”
“Now I will take care of many, many dogs that need me. And cats, too, and rabbits and whatever else is in need. It is a good thing to do, and I am pleased with myself.” He put down his teacup for emphasis.
I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Tío. Thanks again for taking such good care of Tugger.”
“De nada, mi sobrina. What is family for, if not such things? Now I will go and let your mama quiet you down. You need your rest.” He kissed me on the forehead and left.
We watched him go, and as the door closed, Mom took my hands in hers. “I have some disturbing news to tell you, sweetheart, and I hope you won’t be too upset.”
Of course, I panicked. People always do when they’re told someone hopes they won’t be too upset.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“Shh. Calm down and listen to me. Captain Chen’s lawyer has managed to make a case for bail. It was set at one million, five hundred thousand, and well, somehow Chen found the money. They released him this morning.”
Frankly, I was relieved that’s all it was. Although I didn’t like the idea of my would-be assassin walking the streets, it could have been a lot worse; something could have been wrong with one of the family. You get your priorities straight when you have a near-death experience.
“That’s okay, Mom, really. I’m sure the law will do its stuff later on. He’s got money and it talks, but only so much.”
“There’s more, Liana. We found out he lives right here in Palo Alto.”
“What?” My heart did a somersault and thudded against my back
teeth.
“Yes. Richard found that out when Chen put his house up for collateral. He lives right off University Street.”
“Hijo de perra!” I exclaimed without thinking and then waited for Mom to tell me to watch my language. When she didn’t, I knew she was distressed.
“Even though the judge issued a restraining order keeping him away from you and the rest of us, I am worried, Liana. We don’t know how many months it will be until he comes to trial…”
I interrupted her. “Mom, we’ve lived in Palo Alto all our lives, and we’ve never run into him. Why should it happen now, especially with the restraining order?”
“I don’t know, Liana,” Mom whispered and shook her head. Lila’s face was drained of color, and I could see the strain of the last few weeks on it.
“It’ll be fine, just fine. You’ll see, Mom.”
I hugged her and didn’t let go. My mother’s arms enveloped me, and I smelled the perfume I had known all my life. Instantly, I felt warm and safe and at the same time, protective. No one was going to hurt my family or me like that ever again. Or intimidate us, either.
“Mom, we can’t let lowlife like that get us down. Besides, Chen would never be stupid enough to do anything else to me. He’s in enough trouble. Palo Alto is Frank’s territory, too. Do you think he would let Chen get away with anything?”
“You should have heard Frank when he found out.” Mom actually let out a soft chuckle.
“Frank said he was going to put a twenty-four hour surveillance on him, just to make sure Chen didn’t break any more laws.”
I released my mother and looked into her eyes. “Well, there. You see? It’s all going to be fine, Mom, really.”
I felt my head begin to throb and was suddenly overcome with fatigue. I leaned back and closed my eyes. Mom adjusted the covers, and then I felt her stroke my forehead.
“I think you’re right,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “The worst is over. I’m going to go now. I’ll be at work all day if you need me, so don’t hesitate to call. You get some rest, Liana. I mean it. Don’t try to go out today.”
“I won’t, Mom, I promise. All I want to do is just lie around, play with Tugger and get well.” I had a sudden thought. “How’s Mrs. Wyler been taking all of this? You must have talked to her recently.” I opened my eyes and looked at Mom.
“Not well at all. Every time I see her, her nerves seem to be more and more shot. Poor Yvette. I’m going to try to make her forget about all of this for a while. Here’s something that should interest you, knowing your newfound love of cats.
“The day after tomorrow she and I are going to the San Francisco Zoo. It’s the official one-year birthday party for the two Siberian tiger cubs were born there last year. My goodness, I seem to be surrounded by animals these days! What is happening to my life?” she asked dramatically and laughed. So did I.
“Guadalupe will bring your lunch around eleven-thirty today. Look for her. And call her if you need anything else,” Lila said. She picked up her purse and headed for the door. “I’ll look in on you tonight. Now get some rest. Sueños dulce, mi hija,” she added softly, as she closed the door and double locked it.
I slept on and off throughout the day to the sounds of drizzling rain. I woke up periodically with a nagging feeling I had forgotten something really important; but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember what it was. I gave up trying around six o’clock and sent out for pizza with everything on it. I’d been lusting for one the last two days at the hospital. Between the kitten and me, we ate the entire thing by midnight.
SEVENTEEN
It’s Been A Hard Day’s Night
That night I had one of the weirdest dreams of my life. I was running through the woods wearing a chiffon evening gown that kept changing colors on me.
I had a scarf tied around my neck about a hundred yards long. As it trailed behind me, it kept getting caught in all the trees and bushes. My baby pink toe shoes kept coming untied, and I couldn’t do any pirouettes.
Gene Kelly showed up in a clearing. He tried to teach me a buck and wing, but I had lost the toe shoes by then and was barefoot.
Mr. Kelly was very annoyed because my feet weren’t making any tapping sounds. Suddenly I was Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz clicking those stupid red sequin shoes together and saying “there’s no place like home” over and over.
I woke up all tangled up in the bed covers with a wide-eyed kitten staring at me from the safety of the night table. I tell you, you’ve got to watch out for those midnight snacks.
It took me a few seconds to figure out where I was, and by then, Guadalupe was knocking on my door with a breakfast tray laden with a carafe of coffee, Canadian bacon, and steel-cut oatmeal topped with brown sugar and raisins. Life doesn’t get much better.
After feeding the kitten and myself and doing a modified barre, I was at loose ends. It was around nine-thirty and one of the most gorgeous mornings I’d ever seen.
Standing in the doorway of the back deck, I looked out. The sun shone brightly, it was about sixty-eight degrees, and a soft breeze caressed my skin.
I went outside with a second cup of coffee, followed by Tugger. One of the many things Tío did was put up temporary screening against the wooden slats of the railing so the kitten couldn’t slip through. Hanging from the guardrail are window boxes filled with various flowering plants. Like all the rest of the plant kingdom dependent on me, they’re on a self-watering timer.
Maybe when Tugger gets older, he’ll figure out a way to jump into those boxes, but I’ll deal with it then, I thought.
Said companion plopped himself down in the sun, rolled around a bit and wound up with his belly in the air watching me intently through tawny eyes. I sat down on the floor of the deck and played with him.
What with one thing and another, a full hour went by. He was ready for a nap, and I was ready to pull what was left of my hair out. I was antsy, bored and tired of squashing down a niggling feeling, so I decided to take a walk.
I took a shower and got out a clean sweat suit from the back of the closet. It was a faded hot pink number with stains and rips, but one I couldn’t bear to part with.
To keep a modicum of self-respect, I added my old black leather jacket, since the one I wore to the warehouse was currently being boiled in oil, reconstituted and prayed over by Leatherworks. The outlook wasn’t good. I grabbed a baseball cap to protect my recovering scalp from the rays of the sun, and headed out.
The main drag of Palo Alto is a street called University running east to west. It’s chockfull of shops, upscale restaurants, fast-food places, hotels, and shade trees, all the things to make a charming little town charming.
From where we live, it’s only about five blocks, and I knew the walk would do me good. I took my time and wound up in front of Borders bookstore in about fifteen or twenty minutes.
I was weighing the pros and cons of going inside when I saw a man out of the corner of my eye, who looked suspiciously like Captain Chen. Not believing it to be so, I stared right at him and saw it was he, indeed. He was talking on a payphone—one of the few remaining in Palo Alto—and in such a deep conversation that when a bird pooped on his shoulder, he didn’t even notice.
I lowered the brim of my cap and circled around to the back of him. I couldn’t quite hear what he said, but I could tell from his body language he was angry, hostile and firm. After expelling an evil little laugh, he hung up the phone, picked up a folded newspaper and walked west.
I’m going to be completely honest here. For somebody who was bored and antsy, with a nagging niggle, this was like manna from heaven.
Who was he talking to on the phone? What was up with the evil, Boris Karloff laugh? Where is the dastardly Chen going now?
It amazed me I was more intrigued by these questions than frightened by my former assailant, but that’s me. Nothing could have stopped me from following him, from a safe distance, of course.
He walked another block on Uni
versity. I darted in and out of doorways just like I’d seen in every B movie of the forties, trying to keep from knocking pedestrians over in the process. Then he turned left onto a side street called Dorcus.
Like most of Palo Alto’s streets, both sides of Dorcus are lined with large, old trees. You know the kind I mean, the ones where the roots have upturned most of the sidewalks and created natural speed bumps in the road. If you want to keep your rear axle, you have to drive less than fifteen miles an hour, a boon to a neighborhood filled with children. I found myself hiding behind the thick trunks, as I followed him. Chen finally stopped at the third house from the end. He opened the white picket gate, went up the steps and checked the mailbox.
I hugged the far side of a tree, elated at my vantage point, when I heard a commotion at my feet. Not daring to move, I glanced down and saw one of those small dogs on an expandable leash of about thirty feet long. It was attached to an elderly man on the other end.
The octogenarian plodded behind, muttering, “Brutus, come,” “No, Brutus,” and so forth.
The dog, reminiscent of a fox that had been shrunk in the rain, ignored his owner. He was too enthralled with whatever scent presented itself to him at the base of my tree.
Wouldn’t you know, an overhead squirrel spied the dog and began making those chattering noises squirrels make. Now, I like dogs and this Brutus was small, cute and fuzzy, but he was a yapper. With Brutus yapping his head off below, the chattering rodent started to circle the upper trunk as if its tail was on fire.
Not to be outdone, the yapper tried to keep up with the squirrel and the race was on. Brutus tore around the base of the tree several times pulling along his owner who looked like a man who had a whale on the end of a fishing line.