Wonton Terror

by Vivien Chien

  We all nodded in compliance and walked back over to our tent. Peter dug out three fresh water bottles and passed one along to Kimmy before she headed back over to her own booth.

  I pulled out my purse, which had been stuffed under the counter, and searched for my cell phone. I needed to call my parents, my sister, my best friend Megan, and Adam to let them know what happened and that I was okay. While I was being attended to by the paramedic, I noticed that some local news crews had sent vans to cover the explosion. Their trucks sat at the perimeters of the commotion and circles of light engulfed each reporter as they talked into their microphones.

  Sure enough, I had ten missed calls from both of my parents’ cell phones, missed calls and text messages from Adam, Megan, and Anna May telling me to call them as soon as possible. The explosion must have already made the news.

  I dialed my parents’ home number. My mother picked up on the first ring. “Lana! Is that you?”

  “Yes, Mom, it’s me. I’m okay.”

  I heard her take a deep breath of relief and then she screamed to my father that I was all right. I heard him say “Thank God” in the background.

  After she’d given me her attention again, I filled her in on everything that had happened. I hated to have to be the one to inform my mother that Ronnie Chow had not made it out alive, but I guess it was better it was me and not some stranger on the news.

  My mother instructed me to go to the hospital and have them look at my head before urging me to call my sister next. We hung up after I promised I would call her as soon as we got off the phone.

  I quickly called my sister and relayed the same information that I’d told my mother. She wished me well and told me to call her should I need anything. Next I called Megan, who answered before the phone even finished its first ring.

  “Lana, thank God!” Megan breathed heavily into the phone. “I have been going nuts waiting to hear from you. I saw the explosion on TV at work, and was worried sick. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Peter slammed me down on the ground, though, so I’m a little banged up, but nothing horrible.”

  She sighed. “I’m glad to hear that’s the worst that happened to you. I left work and I’m at the corner of Rockwell and East Twenty-fourth, standing with a bunch of nosy people. I thought I’d be able to see if you got wheeled away on a gurney.”

  “I’d come to you, but they won’t let us leave yet. Why don’t you go home and I’ll see you there. Hopefully I won’t be here much longer.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure. Because I’ll stay here as long as you need me,” she replied. “Are you even okay to drive?”

  “I should be … I think.”

  “Lana, don’t be stubborn. You can leave your car there.”

  “No, really, I’m okay. Besides, Peter is here with me.”

  “All right, well, I’m going to stop back at work and wrap something up. Robin is covering for me. You want me to bring home any food?”

  “Yeah, a big fat cheeseburger with extra pickles. Actually get two, Adam might want one too. And fries, don’t forget lots and lots of fries.”

  When I hung up with her, I heard a husky voice from behind me say, “Here I am worried out of my mind about you and you’re placing a takeout order.”

  I turned around and sank into the most gorgeous green eyes on this planet. Detective Adam Trudeau stood on the other side of the counter in a black T-shirt and jeans. His reddish-brown hair was tousled as if he’d just left the house and he wore a concerned expression on his face.

  “Adam!” I hobbled around the counter and buried my face in his chest, inhaling the scent of fresh soap. I was so relieved to see him, and I felt my heart calm as I pressed myself against his body. “How did you get in here?”

  “The head detective is a friend of mine,” he informed me. He kissed the top of my head and held me close to him. “We went to the police academy together.”

  I peeked up at him. “Detective O’Neil?”

  “Yep, that’s Darren. He’s a good guy … kinda stubborn, but a solid cop.”

  “Nice to know what you really think of me, Trudeau.”

  Adam released me from our embrace, and we both turned to see a smirking Detective O’Neil.

  “Trudeau … good to see you, man.” Darren held out a hand.

  The two men shook hands and leaned in for what I like to call a “man hug.”

  “You too, O’Neil.”

  “I was surprised to hear from you, it’s been a while. Any problems getting past my guys?”

  “Not at all.” Adam scooped an arm around my shoulder, careful not to put pressure on my wound. “I really appreciate you letting me in to see my girl. I’ve been in panic mode since I heard the call come over the radio.”

  Darren glanced at me and nodded slowly, a sly smile spreading over his lips. “Ah … that’s why the name sounded familiar.” He turned back to Adam, and chuckled. “This is the firecracker you were telling me about.”

  Adam’s body vibrated with laughter. “Yup. This is her.”

  I blushed. I guess my reputation preceded me.

  CHAPTER

  4

  We were released shortly after Adam showed up and he followed me home, insisting on staying the night. Since I’d declined the hospital checkup, he wanted to keep an eye on me. All I wanted was my bed and those pajamas I’d been thinking about since well before the incident.

  Megan and my black pug, Kikkoman, were waiting for us with a round of cheeseburgers and French fries. We sat around the kitchen table partaking of our late dinner while the two of them expressed shock over the blast. My dog waited patiently at my feet, hoping for a fry or two to magically drop into her mouth.

  I was still too shaken up to really participate in the conversation so I focused on the food in front of me instead. I didn’t last long after cleaning my plate and excused myself for a hot shower and sleep. Kikko tagged along after me, sensing the pain I was feeling and stood guard outside the bathroom door until I came out.

  Adam and I piled into bed with Kikko burrowed beneath the blanket by my feet. I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  That night I dreamt of unstoppable fires and explosions that were too close for comfort. A few times I woke up sweating and grasping for the water glass I always kept on my nightstand. Each time Adam woke up with me, rubbing my back and assuring me that I was safe.

  When I finally got up on Saturday morning, I felt stiff, achy, and my ears were still ringing. Thankfully I didn’t have to work that morning, but I did have to stop in and check on things since I’d missed a majority of the prior day prepping for the night market. Anna May and our teenage helper, Vanessa Wen, would be working the dining room.

  Slipping out of bed so I wouldn’t wake Adam, I made my way into the kitchen and dug around for coffee. Kikko had snuck out of the room with me, and she circled around my ankles while I filled the coffeepot with water. I was going to need extra caffeine today.

  While I waited for the coffee to brew, I walked Kikko around the complex, attempting to clear my head of the previous night’s events. It was a peaceful stroll along the sidewalk that loops through the handful of buildings that made up our apartment community.

  Megan and I had been living together for several years in a quaint two-bedroom, garden-style apartment in North Olmsted. The apartment itself was slightly on the small side and wasn’t the most original design. We longed for something a little more personalized; so we had recently begun to take some liberties and were redecorating. Otherwise the spot was perfect. It was a convenient location for both of us with regard to work; we had easy access to the freeway, and there were lots of great places for us to eat and shop. Not to mention the rent was the right price for two young women in the service industry.

  We’d met in college, becoming fast friends, and within the first year of our friendship made the decision to move in together. Megan was the type of friend you knew was a permanent fixture in your life. The kind
you could trust with anything in the whole wide world and knew she’d be there no matter what. Whether things were good, went bad, or got ugly, she was family.

  When I returned from my walk with Kikko, Megan was hanging out on the couch scrolling through her phone and drinking a cup of coffee. Her blond hair was swept back with a black headband and she was dressed in light gray yoga pants and a black tank top.

  She glanced up from her phone as I unleashed the dog. “I’m heading to the gym in a little bit, do you want me to grab some breakfast while I’m out? How about some doughnuts?”

  I headed straight for the coffeemaker and poured myself a cup. “No, that’s okay, I’m heading to the plaza in a little bit. I can pick something up at the restaurant.”

  “You don’t want doughnuts?”

  I could feel her eyes boring into my back.

  “Maybe later.”

  “Well, do you want me to take off work tonight?” she asked, continuing to scrutinize me from across the room. “We could catch a movie or maybe grab some drinks. It’s supposed to be a great night for patio drinking.”

  Filling my coffee with the necessary cream and sugar, I joined her on the couch. “I’m fine, you know? Worried about Nancy and Sandra, of course, but I’m okay. Really.”

  Although I was mainly telling her the truth, that I was “okay,” there was part of me that was, of course, still rattled by the whole ordeal. However, I didn’t want her to worry more than I already knew she did.

  The skepticism on her face was clear, but she let it drop for the moment. “Have you heard anything new?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing so far. I was gonna call Peter in a little bit and find out about Nancy’s condition.” Reaching for the remote, I turned on the TV and flipped to a local news station hoping to find more information on what happened. When we’d left, there was no clear explanation as to what actually caused the explosion.

  After fifteen minutes of a detailed weather report on how heat wave records were coming our way and a few commercials, a story finally came on about the blast. The headline read “Night Market Nightmare.”

  A female reporter with jet-black hair turned a grave expression to the camera as she recited the basics of the situation from last night. She informed the viewers that there had been one fatality and five people, including the wife of the victim, were in critical condition at local hospitals. And while authorities originally assumed the explosion was caused by a faulty starter or a propane leak, they were currently investigating for signs of foul play.

  “Foul play?” Megan spat. “They’re considering foul play now?”

  “I think they have to, don’t they?”

  “I don’t know, I wouldn’t think so unless something was odd about it,” she said.

  “Well, who are we to say? Could be standard procedure.”

  “So, this Calvin guy … you’ve never mentioned him before … or Sandra for that matter.”

  “Probably because Calvin and I were never actual friends. Our parents were and we were kinda forced to hang out together. We haven’t seen them in ages though.”

  “Hopefully his mother is okay. Sure was lucky that she wasn’t with him when the truck exploded. Otherwise Calvin would have lost both his parents last night.”

  I sipped my coffee, internally shuddering at Sandra’s near miss. “I wonder how they’re doing. I should check in with them after I go to the Village.”

  My bedroom door could be heard creaking open from down the hall. Kikko’s ears perked up and she waddled away to greet Adam.

  “I’m the last one up?” he mumbled as he entered the living room. “That’s unusual.”

  “I couldn’t sleep anymore. My arm was getting sore,” I explained. “There’s coffee made if you want some.”

  He grunted and went into the kitchen. “I have to run into the station today and wrap up a few things, but you can have me for the rest of the day after that.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  Megan jumped up from the couch. “Yes, will you please knock some sense into this girl? She doesn’t even want doughnuts.”

  Adam froze with the coffee mug mid-sip. “What do you mean she doesn’t want doughnuts? That’s not an actual thing, right?”

  I groaned. “You two are being ridiculous. There are plenty of times I haven’t wanted doughnuts.”

  “Name one,” Megan challenged.

  Adam shuffled into the living room and took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t think you should be alone today. What happened yesterday is definitely on the traumatic side.”

  “I don’t need babysitters,” I reminded them. “I’m a grown woman.”

  “Yes, we realize that,” Megan chimed in. “But having some company after what happened yesterday isn’t going to hurt anything, right?”

  The two of them were making me anxious. What I needed was to get out of the house and get moving. Sitting still with all this time to think was making me feel worse. “How about this? How about we all go about our day like normal human beings, and then later, we’ll meet up for drinks.” I looked at Megan. “On a patio somewhere.”

  “Sounds great.” Megan beamed with victory. “I’ll see you two later tonight.”

  * * *

  Dressed and ready to go, I parted ways with Adam and Megan and headed to Asia Village. The enclosed Asian shopping plaza, located in the neighboring city of Fairview Park, was about a fifteen-minute drive from my apartment. I turned off the street, driving through the red-arched gateway adorned with golden dragons slithering up the columns, and made my way through the lot that wrapped around the cluster of pagoda-style buildings to the employee parking area.

  While the indoor shopping center had seen many renovations—the pagoda façades, the addition of a koi pond, cobblestone walkways inside the plaza, skylights in the ceiling, and Asian establishments that came and went—my family’s restaurant had remained in the building, in the same spot, for over thirty years.

  It was already 11 A.M. and though business slowed in the summer, the Saturday shopping crowd was in full swing. I blended into the stream of walkers as I made my way toward the noodle house. The salon, Asian Accents, was packed with boisterous women getting their hair dyed, nails done, and legs waxed. Asian pop music floated out into the enclosed plaza as the door opened and a happy customer bustled out.

  Wild Sage, the herbal shop, wasn’t quite as busy, but Mr. Zhang had his hands full with a couple of people that had stopped in to ask for his expertise.

  I should add as a side note that my grandmother—who has only been in the United States for around two months—and Mr. Zhang are spending quite a bit of time together. I’d say they were “dating,” but you can’t use that word around my mother when it comes to the elderly pair. It seems to make her eye twitch. One time when I brought it up, she told me to mind my own business and that they were just “friends.”

  Additional side note: I am quite frequently told to my mind own business when it comes to family affairs that do not pertain to me.

  China Cinema and Song was surprisingly filled with shoppers browsing the DVD racks. There was even a line at the register where I could see Kimmy hustling to get customers rung up and out the door. Their store had been struggling for several months, but with the recent surge in interest in Asian films in the media, people were starting to catch on to the trend, and movies and shows from China, Taiwan, and Japan were on many must-have lists.

  Even Cindy Kwan, who ran the plaza’s bookstore, the Modern Scroll, was having a hard time keeping titles like Crazy Rich Asians, The Joy Luck Club, and Little Fires Everywhere stocked on the shelves.

  Next in the row of stores leading up to the noodle house was my new personal favorite, Shanghai Donuts. Ruth Wu and her husband had only joined the plaza a month ago, and business was booming for them. I waved to Ruth through the window and continued on to the restaurant.

  Ho-Lee Noodle House with its double doors, picture windows, and brazen sign claiming that we were the #1 N
OODLE HOUSE gleamed in the sun that came in through the skylights. A few months ago, I had dreaded the sight of the place, wanting to fulfill my life’s mission with something else, but now, just looking at it brought me a sense of calm and familiarity.

  I opened the door, and found that we were busier than I had anticipated. We often found ourselves scrambling for customers in the summertime, since most Clevelanders wanted to enjoy the nice weather while they could and we didn’t have outdoor seating. We had limited months of actually nice weather so many spent it at outdoor festivals, in parks, or at outdoor shopping areas that might otherwise deter them during our snowy months.

  It must have been the Village’s involvement in the night market that was bringing in the extra business. So many people that had come through our lines last night were surprised they’d never heard of us, and a lot of people had taken an interest in my flyers.

  Vanessa Wen, our only teenage help and a thorn in my side, was at the hostess booth flipping through the latest issue of Vogue magazine.

  I dramatically cleared my throat as I neared the counter. “Shouldn’t you be helping with tables?”

  Vanessa jumped, dropping the magazine on the floor. She held a hand to her heart and took exaggerated deep breaths. “Lana! Don’t do that to me! You scared me half to death!”

  Pursing my lips, I placed a calculated hand on my hip, imitating my mother. “Sorry to disturb your reading.”

  Vanessa blushed, the color of her cheeks matching her bubblegum-pink nail polish. “My bad. I only came up here for a minute because I thought that these people were going to check out, but then they didn’t get up, so I got bored and I thought I’d read a little bit until they paid their check.”

  “Is Anna May handling everything on her own?” I asked, skimming the packed dining room for my sister.

  “I’ll go check on people’s tea,” she said, picking her magazine up off the floor. “Sorry, boss.”