by Amy Cheung
The next day, Chui Yuk called me and said, “He told me everything. Can you come meet me?”
She sounded distressed. Whatever she had to tell me, it didn’t sound like good news.
After work, I met Chui Yuk at a café. It was a cold day, and I wanted a hot cup of coffee.
“I’m freezing to death.” I took off my gloves.
The cold had turned the tip of Chui Yuk’s nose bright red.
“He confessed. He plagiarized that other person’s novel,” Chui Yuk said despondently.
“Why’d he do it? He should’ve known that someone would find out sooner or later.”
“He said he was under too much pressure. He didn’t actually think anyone would find out.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“That’s his problem. I’m breaking up with him,” Chui Yuk said firmly.
“You’re going to leave him at a time like this?” I wouldn’t ever have guessed that Chui Yuk would be the one to end the relationship.
“I said that if there was proof that Yu Mogwo plagiarized someone else’s work, I’d leave him.”
“You shouldn’t force yourself to break up with him just because of that.”
“No, I can die for him, I can sell my honor for him, but I can’t accept the fact he’s a swindler.”
“You said that if he told you the truth, you’d forgive him.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Don’t you still love him?”
“I love him and I believe in him. I believe he’s talented. It’s because I wanted him to display his talents that I went out and made that video. This morning, I suddenly realized that it was all a big fraud. He can deceive whomever he wants, but he shouldn’t have tried to deceive me.”
Not long before, she had been standing at the door of the publishing house, waiting for Yu Mogwo to come out. She’d been completely unwilling to abandon him. The only explanation for her change of heart was that she’d worshipped Yu Mogwo a little too much, and her faith in him had come crashing down in one blow. She went straight from extreme love to extreme hate.
I agreed to go back to her place to help her pack up her things.
“Are you really moving out?” I asked her before we went inside.
Chui Yuk nodded. She took out the key and unlocked the door.
Inside, there was only a single lamp turned on. A listless, lethargic Yu Mogwo sat in the living room.
“I came to pack up my things,” Chui Yuk said and went into the bedroom.
I stood there awkwardly. I didn’t know whether to go help Chui Yuk or try to comfort Yu Mogwo.
“If you tell her not to go, she’ll listen,” I said to Yu Mogwo.
“It’s no use,” he said.
“How do you know if you haven’t tried?”
Yu Mogwo looked up at me and said, “Isn’t it crazy? I never thought anyone would find out. It’s like all those Olympic athletes who take steroids—they never think they’ll get caught. The only thing they care about is winning. I was working at the newspaper when the novel came in. I read it once through, and my hands started shaking. I kept thinking I could write something like it. At that point, I didn’t have any plans to plagiarize it. I went to the States, came back, and wrote another book, but it wasn’t good. Then, by chance, I opened the drawer and this novel was there. I thought no one would ever know . . .”
“That’s the sort of thing you should never, ever do,” I said.
“I was just too impatient. I wanted success—and this book was a success, no doubt about it. It was better than anything I could write. But I was also really unhappy. I didn’t want it to be a success because its success would mean that I was a failure.”
I finally understood why he hadn’t been very excited about the success of the new book.
“If that book hadn’t been a success, none of this ever would have happened.” He smiled sardonically. “At least Chui Yuk wouldn’t be leaving me.”
“So you’re just going to watch her go?”
“I’m the one who let her down. If I’d known how she earned that $300,000 I used to start the publishing house and put out this book, I never would’ve plagiarized someone else’s work. I wouldn’t forgive me if I were in her place.” Yu Mogwo stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t watch her leave,” he said and walked out.
“Chow Jeoi, come help me,” Chui Yuk called out from the bedroom.
Chui Yuk took a few articles of clothing and shoved them into a duffle bag.
“Where are you going?” I asked her.
“I’m going home, back to my family.”
Chui Yuk placed her key on top of the coffee table.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked her.
“He’s a swindler.” Chui Yuk buried her head in my shoulder.
I patted her back.
“Let’s leave before I change my mind,” she said, picking up her luggage. Then she suddenly remembered something. “Hold on a second.”
She went out to the balcony and removed from the laundry rack a pink lace bra that I’d bought for her. She put it in her bag.
I escorted Chui Yuk home. Her mother looked surprised to see her, though she’d gotten pretty good at acting nonchalant about these things. This wasn’t the first time Chui Yuk had moved back home after living with a boyfriend. This time, she’d been away for a long while, and no one had expected her to come back.
“Please tell Yau Ying that I’m sorry,” she said as she walked me out.
The temperature had dropped, and I was so cold as I waited for a taxi that my entire body was shaking and my nose wouldn’t stop running. What was I doing without a man in this kind of weather? What a failure I was! If Sam were here to hold me, I’d be warm—I knew that much.
When I got home, I made myself a steaming hot cup of instant noodles. I took two bites before I realized that it tasted funny. It turned out that the package had expired six months ago.
I heard someone knocking at my window. Figuring it was Yau Ying again, I moved the puzzle aside. But standing there outside my window was none other than Sam. I didn’t know whether to open the window or grab the puzzle and cover it up again. I watched him shivering in the cold wind. I couldn’t bear to see him looking so cold. I opened the window.
“I was passing by, and I saw this puzzle. So you really do live here.” His breath was as white as smoke as he spoke.
Day and night, I’d been praying that one day he’d randomly pass by and see the puzzle that he’d put together for me and know that I lived there, then knock on my window—and that was it. My wish had come true. I couldn’t believe it. Still, I didn’t know whether to invite him in.
“Can I come in?” he asked me.
There he was, trembling in the cold, asking me to let him in. I had imagined him holding me, and he’d really appeared.
“I’m on the second floor. Unit B,” I told him.
I stood outside the door to my apartment, waiting for him.
“Come in and sit down,” I said.
“So this is where you live? This place is a hovel.”
It was as if he felt I’d suffered a great injustice.
“This is all I can afford,” I said.
“It’s freezing out there.” He took my hands.
His hands were cold, so cold that they sent a chill straight to my heart.
“Let me make you a hot cup of tea.” I broke free of his grip.
“Thank you,” he said.
A long time had passed since either of us had uttered those two words—“thank you”—to one another. It seemed simultaneously natural and strange to say them now.
I poured him a cup of tea.
“What were you doing on this street?” I asked.
“I’d never taken this pedestrian escalator before. This evening I got a sudden urge to check it out. I never expected . . . what a coincidence. When I saw that puzzle, I thought I was dreaming.”
&n
bsp; “How have you been?” I asked.
“You’re still wearing that necklace?” He pointed at the chain hanging around my neck.
“Let’s not get into that!” I said, suddenly feeling flustered.
“You don’t want me to be here, do you?” he said.
“I worked so hard to break free from you,” I said.
“Was pain all I ever gave you?” he asked sadly.
“The person who gives you happiness is the same person who can give you pain.”
He looked at me in silence.
“Why have you been so slow to cash that check?” I asked him.
He opened his wallet and took out the check that I had given him. “I carry this check with me everywhere, but I won’t ever cash it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did.”
“I can go to the bank and give the money to you personally.”
“I don’t want it.”
“If you don’t want it, then I’ll give that $2.8 million to your bank so that you can invest it all in the most high-risk currency for me,” I said, wanting to spurn him.
“I’ll help you make a profit from it,” he said.
I was so mad at him that I burst out laughing. He grabbed my hand and said, “I miss you so much.”
“Really?” I tried to look detached.
“Will you come back to me?” Sam put his arms around me. He wrapped his coat over my shoulders, and I felt incredibly warm.
“I don’t want this.” I pushed him away. “If I came back to you, what would happen? Wouldn’t it be the same as before, with you sneaking around to see me? I’ll only ever get half of you. Just let me go.” I retreated to the edge of my bed.
Sam came over to my bed and pulled me down onto the bed with him. I wanted so badly to kiss him, but I wasn’t about to go back to him that easily. I pressed my lips shut and firmly resisted the urge to respond. He started to fondle my breasts, but I pushed him away.
“I don’t want this,” I said, standing up.
He looked crushed.
“Can you leave?” I said cruelly.
“Do you still love me?” he asked me from the edge of the bed.
In my heart, I was crying. I was deliberately causing him pain. Why, at this point, did he not have the courage to get a divorce? All he had to do was promise me that he’d get a divorce, and I’d take him back in an instant. I wanted all of him. I’d accommodated him too much. He knew I’d stay with him even if he didn’t divorce her.
I wanted to say no, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Out of my desire for revenge, I didn’t answer his question.
Dejectedly, he stood up from the bed.
Why wouldn’t he just tell me he’d get divorced? Was he afraid to say those words? I wasn’t going to tell him I loved him. Without a doubt, he’d be back the next day, and if not, then he’d be back the day after that. He knew that I lived here. He’d come back. I was just scared that when he did, I wouldn’t know how to turn him away.
Unable to wait any longer for me to answer, he left without saying another word.
I threw myself onto the bed and bawled my eyes out. It was the first time he’d ever asked me if I loved him.
6
I’ll Wait Forever for You
I thought about him all night.
The next day, I couldn’t even force myself to concentrate on work. I missed him so much. He had passed by my window by sheer chance. That had been fate. Why was I lying to myself?
That afternoon, someone by the name of Ms. Lee called, claiming to be an employee of the Produce Green Foundation. “Am I speaking to Chow Jeoi? I’m calling to inform you that the calf that you adopted was born.”
I had adopted a calf?
“I didn’t adopt any calf,” I told her.
“Do you know a Sam? He adopted the calf in your name.”
The next morning, I boarded a train to go visit the Produce Green Foundation and see why Sam would adopt a calf for me. When I arrived at the farm, Ms. Lee took me on a tour. There were lots of cattle there, including the newborn, which happened to be nursing at that very moment.
“You can name him,” she said.
“What on earth is this all about?” I asked.
“Mr. Tong didn’t tell you? There are lots of cattle here in the New Territories. After they get older, no one wants them anymore, so they roam along the roads and often get hit by cars. So we buy them from the farmers and have city residents adopt them, so the cattle don’t have to roam anymore. The response has been tremendous. There’s a waiting list for adoptions. Last October, Mr. Tong came and signed up to adopt one. Since all our cattle were adopted, he asked to reserve the calf of a pregnant cow. He said it was a birthday present for his girlfriend and that he’d bring her to see the mother on November 3. But neither of you ever showed up. Afterwards Mr. Tong called us and asked us to get in touch with you when the calf was born.”
So Sam had wanted to give me a calf for my birthday. No wonder he told me I had to see it. I felt a sudden tenderness towards the calf that was now nursing in front of me. I squatted down and rubbed its belly.
“There’s also a plot of land that’s yours.” Ms. Lee pointed to a lot encircled with bamboo poles. “You can grow vegetables there.”
“What’s he giving me all of this for?”
“He said he wanted to give you a birthday present that was special. This plot is optimal for growing vegetables. Mr. Tong told me that you two wanted to open a French restaurant someday. Well, this will make it easy for you to grow your own produce, won’t it?”
I named the calf Cherbourg.
When you love someone, you have to hate them a little. You hate them because they make it impossible for you to hate them. Sam was someone that I hated.
It was still freezing cold outside when I left the farm, but the sun was shining brightly and my heart was flooded with warmth. Sam had been thinking about our restaurant. On the train, I started trying to decide what kind of vegetables to grow on that piece of land. We could plant carrots. Even if our restaurant never actually materialized, we could still sell them to Kwok Seon for her carrot cakes.
By the time I got to the shop, it was 3:30 p.m. I missed Sam so much. I wasn’t going to deny it anymore: I loved him, and someday he’d make me his wife. Even if I couldn’t stand the wait, what did it matter? I wanted to tell him that I had an answer to his question. I always had, still did, and always would love him.
I gathered the courage to call him on his pager. Thirty minutes, one hour, then two hours passed. I called his pager three more times. He still didn’t call me back. No one answered his work number.
Why wasn’t he calling me back? Didn’t he care about me anymore? He must have thought I didn’t love him. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t do that.
When I got home from work, I sat in front of the window and thought, maybe he’ll suddenly appear. Outside the window, things had grown intensely quiet. It was already past 11:00 p.m. I called his pager once more, but he still didn’t answer. I knew it wasn’t something he’d do deliberately.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The following morning, he still hadn’t called me back. If his pager was broken, he would’ve called the service and had them look into it.
After work, I called his office and asked for him. A man answered the phone.
“I’d like to speak with Mr. Tong,” I said.
“Him?” Judging by the sound of the man’s voice, there seemed to be a problem. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Ms. Chow,” I said.
“Ms. Chow? My name is Jeung Gaacung. I’m a colleague of Mr. Tong’s. Can we schedule a time to meet in person?”
“What on earth is going on?’ I sensed something strange. “Has something happened to him?”
“Why don’t you come over and we’ll talk? I’ll be waiting for you in the company cafeteria downstairs. How soon can you be here?”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.” I locked up the shop and hurried to
the cafeteria. A man waved to me.
“Are you Ms. Chow?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Have a seat,” he said.
“What about Sam? What’s happened?”
He hesitated before speaking.
“What on earth is going on?”
“Sam is dead.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Yesterday he came back from lunch and went back to work at usual. Around three, I saw him slumped over his desk. I thought he’d dozed off. Around four, I saw that he was still slumped over his desk. I went over and patted him on the back, and discovered he was unconscious. I immediately called for help, and an ambulance took him to the hospital. The doctor said he had coronary heart disease and that he’d had a heart attack. There were no warning signs. He was already dead by the time he got to the hospital.”
“No! He asked you to lie to me. He’s afraid of being involved with me! His wife put you up to this, didn’t she? I know there’s no way he’d ever have a heart attack!” I screamed.
“It was all very sudden.”
“Impossible.”
“I can’t believe it, either. But I saw them take him away with my own eyes. When they were carrying him out, he had his pager on, and it wouldn’t stop going off. The stress in this line of work is ridiculous. You have to call it quits by the time you’re forty.”
“I don’t believe you!” I said.
“There’s something about it in today’s paper. Maybe you missed it.”
“Which paper?”
He passed a copy of a newspaper to me. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
In an inconspicuous section of the paper was a photo of a man on a stretcher being carried out of a building by paramedics. A senior executive from the bank’s foreign exchange department had died at work. The name of the deceased was Sam.
I didn’t shed a tear.
“Sam told me about you two. A while back, he told me that if anything ever happened, I should let you know. He was afraid you wouldn’t find out. He was a good man.” Jeung Gaacung was choked with emotion.