Incensed (28 page)

“We have to get out of here,” he said. “This room's now in violation of the fire code.” Jimmy stood up and lifted his head. A veil of snot covered his face. “You know what, kid? You have a lot of nerve for someone with a really shitty case of nerves.”

Chapter Seventeen

We all crammed into
a single elevator car and quietly contemplated the immediate future.

Keeping with good Taiwanese conduct, Nancy and I didn't hold hands although we stood next to each other. I leaned my arm against hers to let her know that I was here and that everything would be all right. She pushed back in a silent reply.

Benson held his bellhop hat around his father's wounded hand. Fortunately the fabric was already red. Mr. Chang had his good hand on the back of his head. Both father and son were reaping some pretty bad karma tonight. They weren't exactly paying it forward, either, by being in Wood Duck's gang.

Jimmy had a big dark stain over his heart from where he had wiped his face with his track jacket. His eyes were red and he couldn't stop shaking. I didn't care that he had threatened my life, but I was still mad for what he'd said about Mei-ling and Nancy.

Frankie stood in the corner, lips pursed in a silent whistle, hands at his sides but open and ready.

Mei-ling stared at the bright lights in the elevator ceiling. Her eyes saw nothing. Some people might blame Mei-ling for everything that had happened tonight. I didn't feel that way at all. All she had wanted to do was get away from her family, but that's simply not possible.

The doors opened at
the lobby. Three broad-shouldered men, Wood Duck's bodyguards, launched themselves at us from the couches. They were dressed in suits, just like the one who had barged into the hotel room, who could have been any of the three. Two of them grabbed Jimmy and hustled him out of the hotel. The third put his hands on the shoulders of Benson's dad and the two of them walked to the back office behind the front desk. Was poor Mr. Chang about to get his third assault of the night? Benson stood by himself and raked his hair.

Frankie, Nancy, Mei-ling, and I stuck together near a grotesquely large and twisty money tree in a massive glazed pot. I finally felt comfortable enough to have a semi-private conversation with my girlfriend. “Nancy, what did Big Eye say to you?”

“He called me and said you were in trouble, Jing-nan. I left the student meeting and Gao and Whistle picked me up and brought me to the hotel. It's funny. The students were originally planning to march on the Eastern Princess to disrupt the Modern Chinese Culture gathering, but we got word that the timing was changed.” She touched my hands. “I'm glad we're both all right. That was a little scary back there.”

“We're not out of here yet. What sort of trouble did Big Eye say I was in?”

“He said that Wood Duck wanted a woman to escort Mei-ling out of the hotel.”

“I'm sorry I left the lobby, but I'm glad I met you in the room.”

“Me, too. Right, Mei-ling?”

“I don't feel like talking,” she said, turning her back to us.

“What should we do, Frankie?” I asked. “Should we play it cool and walk out the door?”

“Let's wait,” he said, slightly widening his stance. “See how this situation plays out. There's no reason to do anything unless we face a direct encounter.”

“Is that Taoist?”

“Naw, it's physics.”

“How did you know what was going on in the hotel room?”

“Big Eye brought us to back up you and Nancy. His guys aren't allowed on Wood Duck's turf.”

“Us?”

Frankie pointed to a figure three chandeliers away from the elevators, hiding behind a newspaper. Those were Dwayne's hands!

That raised an immediate red flag. “Who's watching Unknown Pleasures?”

“The guys who loaned us Big Eye's car. Whistle and Gao. They're not bad on the grill.”

“They can't just jump in there and cook! Captain Huang's going to bust them for not being licensed.”

“Gao's a cop, and cops never rat each other out. Anyway, at this point, all they need to do is warm things up. Any idiot can do that.”

I took offense to that remark but before I could voice it, Mr. Chang, newly released, presented himself to us. His bandaged hand resembled an albino lobster claw.

“Looks like everything's all right now,” said the bodyguard who accompanied Mr. Chang. His face was a steep stone cliff. He turned to Benson. “Listen to your dad, kid. Stay out of the shit.” The big man headed outside.

“Put on your fucking hat, Benson,” Mr. Chang said. “Be a goddamned professional!” He rubbed the wrist of his bad hand and eyed his son murderously.

The son complied. Confucius would have beamed in approval at Benson's supplicating shuffle as his father led the way to the front desk.

A bullet in the hand and back to work? Talk about work ethic. There were tasks to attend to. A new busload of tourists was ready to check in. The lone desk clerk was confronted with a group of Chinese who clung to the counter as if climbing out of the sea.

Benson's dad took his place behind his desk and put his mandatory military training to use. “Pay attention!” he called out. “You must form two lines to check in! Anybody not in a line will be sent to the end!”

The two other bellhops were already loaded down with bags and struggling to the elevators. Benson silently grabbed hold of the brass poles of a perilously overloaded luggage cart and put his weight against it to get it going.

Dwayne folded up his newspaper and approached us. “Just got the all-clear,” he said. “We can exit the hotel but Big Eye wants to see us before we leave for the night.”

I made a necessary bathroom detour so I was the last one to exit the revolving door and watch my ghost slide off the glass into the night.

Dwayne grabbed me behind
by the shoulders as we headed down the drive.

“Oh, man,” I said. “Not here, not now.”

“Relax, Jing-nan. I'm glad to see you're all right. Nancy and Mei-ling, too. I was waiting in case things got ugly for you.”

“It worked out.”

“That punk kid, Jimmy. I've made sausages bigger than him.”

We came upon a tour bus. It looked like all the others that the Chinese people rode in but its windows were tinted. A bodyguard stood by the door. “This way,” he called to us.

The two other big men came around from the far side of the bus. One had his hands free. The other was brandishing Jimmy like a baton that he was about to throw into the air. Jimmy was shoeless and stripped down to his boxers, which were soaking wet. Long red scratches ran across his chest.

His handler noticed my stare and said, “This dumbass tried to escape. He got caught at the top of a fence and then fell into the fucking pool.”

“No, I didn't!” Jimmy whined. “He's lying!”

“Yeah, let's see who Wood Duck believes.”

Shit. We were all going to see Wood Duck.

I was the only one in our group who had met the old gangster so I followed the bodyguard inside first.

The aisle ended after the fifth row with an ornate black lacquer door that was obviously repurposed from a temple. The man knocked on the door as I stared at the carvings in the wood. Fantastic things squirmed beneath the dark finish: dragons, demons, endless rivers, and mountains shrouded in mists.

I still hadn't relaxed since that fateful elevator ride with Mr. Chang. And waiting outside this haunting door wasn't exactly putting me at ease. Did Wood Duck install this temple door because he thought of himself as a god?

The bodyguard must have heard something in the way of an invitation because he opened the door and stepped through. Mei-ling squeezed past me to go in next. The rest of us followed.

The bus interior beyond the doorway was remodeled into an oddly roomy walnut-paneled living room. Big Eye and Wood Duck were sitting next to each other on matching carved wooden chairs. The arms were dragon heads wearing stunned expressions.

Wood Duck raised his hand but remained seated.

“Please, be my guests.” He gestured to an array of plain wooden chairs. There were more than enough for us. Mei-ling again took the lead, sitting directly across from her father, who couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her boldness.

“You heard Wood Duck,” said Big Eye. “Everybody, hurry up and take a seat.” We did, with a collective grunt.

Wood Duck held up an opened palm as if checking for rain. “You've been through a lot. Would any of you like some oolong tea? Or maybe black tea?”

“Got any coffee?” asked Dwayne.

That appeared to be a trigger word. Wood Duck narrowed his eyes. “No,” he said icily, adding, “Perhaps you'd like hot water instead?”

“Naw, I'll do oolong,” said Dwayne, coughing and crossing his legs. He couldn't get comfortable. None of us could. I kept both feet flat on the floor in case I had to jump up and block fists or knives going in either direction between my cousin and my uncle. They had a lot of shit to deal with, but that would have to come later. There were still non-family in the room.

The big man who had brought us came out of the back with a tray of eight cups of tea—half oolong, half black. I went with black tea and admired the strong red color. When black tea leaves yield a red beverage, it's a sign that the tea is pretty damned expensive. I'm sure the yellow oolong tea wasn't much cheaper. My cup felt heavy for its size and had been spun on a potter's wheel.

There were just enough cups for all of us, including the big man. His two buddies were still outside doing who knew what to Jimmy.

Not even Mei-ling had the nerve to begin drinking before Wood Duck gave a toast. Instinctively we all knew to hold our cups below the level of Wood Duck's as the old boss spoke.

“Here's to a happy family reunion just in time for the Mid-Autumn Festival,” he said. “We've reached the present circumstances under duress but at the same time, I'm glad for this time we have together.”

He brought his cup to his lips and drank. We all followed suit. The bodyguard put his cup down on a cabinet shelf. He walked to the back area and returned with a tray that bore a single mooncake cut into eight pieces.

“I would be a terrible host if I didn't share one of my shabby pastries with my guests,” he said. “It's not very good but I hope you find it acceptable.”

I looked over the exposed jade-colored filling. Lotus-seed paste. The real thing, not the cheap bean mash that's often substituted. I also took note of the glitter in the crust.

“Is that gold dust?” I asked Wood Duck. He smiled slightly, pleased that I had noticed, but also bowed his head in a vain attempt to remain humble.

“It's very low-quality gold. I think it's barely twenty-four karat.”

“It's too expensive to eat!” Nancy blurted out.

“It's very pretty,” said Mei-ling.

Dwayne stared at the mooncake slices. I could hear what he was thinking. Fucking Han Chinese wasting money on this crap. You stole our lands but you don't care about wasting gold as long as the money doesn't flow back to aborigines.

Frankie reached in and grabbed a slice. He weighed it in his palm and then popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, Frankie made a generally contented murmur.

“You,” said Wood Duck, shaking a finger at Frankie, “where do I know you from?” Like he had so many times before, Frankie answered the question with a small tilt of his head. Before Wood Duck could ask another question, Big Eye picked up a mooncake slice.

“This looks incredible!” he boomed. “This is the most singular mooncake I've ever seen, Wood Duck!”

The old man grunted. “Well, it was a limited edition. It's not terribly special because there are eighty-seven others just like it.”

We all dug in after that. Mooncake doesn't necessarily have the best reputation. Based on what I've read about American fruitcakes, many people approach mooncake with the same dread, that “necessary evil” that haunts the year-end holidays.

For us, guys like Big Eye and Wood Duck were the necessary evils of Taiwan. I watched them put their heads together and alternate talking and nodding. Murderers, I thought, feeling more bewilderment than the recent disgust that I'd been harboring against Big Eye. I had just had a familial toast with murderers.

“It's really something, isn't it?” Nancy asked me.

“The mooncake is the best I've ever tasted, but I've only had cheap ones all my life,” I said.

“No, I meant being here with two bosses. There's so much power in this room, you can feel it.”

“I didn't think you'd find it to be a turn-on.”

“It's not sexual. It's sort of a little-kid fascination I'm feeling.”

I looked at Big Eye and focused on the grey outcrops in his mountain-shadow-black hair. “It'll pass,” I said to Nancy.

Big Eye and Wood Duck broke away from each other, and the latter made a hand signal. The bodyguard left and closed the walnut door behind him.

Big Eye turned to Mei-ling. “I'm glad you're safe now,” he said, unable to flush out the venom from his voice.

“I wasn't in danger,” she said. She wasn't making anything easier.

Big Eye smiled. “Maybe you weren't in danger, but it wasn't where you should be.”

Nancy took charge before the situation devolved into a brawl. “Well,” she said, turning to Wood Duck, “your hotel is very nice.”

“It is a beautiful hotel,” I said.

The old boss nodded at our compliments. “I worked hard at it.”

A knock came at the door.

“Yeah!” yelled Wood Duck.

The door swung open and Jimmy tripped in, managing to remain upright. Still only wearing boxers. Still wet. There were more scratches on his body.

“This idiot tried to run away again,” said one of his handlers. “This time he tried to jump into the fountain!”

“I didn't!” cried Jimmy. “He pushed my head underwater!”

“Which one did it to you, Jimmy?” asked Wood Duck. Jimmy shuffled. Water was pooling at his feet and he was probably fearful past embarrassment.

“I don't know,” said Jimmy.