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Authors: Jean Kwok

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BOOK: Mambo in Chinatown
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I turned and whirled my outstretched leg toward Ryan as hard as I could. I felt the impact. Ryan stumbled a step backward, then
wheezed, “I thought we were dancing, not trying to murder each other.”

Dominic said, “Children, children. This is enough for today. You have enough material to work on. Before you leave, Ryan, pick up the mambo CDs at the front desk as your homework. You’re both going to need help. Since you must not disgrace our studio, I’ll get Nina to work with Charlie and Mateo to help you, Ryan.”

“Ooooh, Mateo’s going to be happy,” said Nina. Ryan covered his eyes with his hand.

“Quiet,” said Dominic. “You’ve made a good choice, Charlie.”

“With what?” I asked.

Ryan rolled his eyes.

Dominic stepped in between us while Nina snickered. “I meant in your choice of partner, Charlie. He has a great deal of work to do, as do you, but you fit well together. Dance is about the architecture of the body, and a flexible mind and soul. People who are control freaks don’t tend to be very good dancers. You must let go, allow yourself to feel and be honest. I think you both have that.” He nodded slowly. “Yes, you are now a disaster together but you are a catastrophe with potential.”


I smelled fresh incense in the apartment when I got home. That was unusual. Normally, Pa would light some for the altars in the morning but not so late in the day. Lisa was already asleep but tonight Pa was still up. Even with the Hunter issue behind us, she still wasn’t improving. These days, she didn’t want me to leave her alone. She said she was tired and didn’t want to go to school. Despite all of my probing, she insisted there were no problems there. I thought that
maybe she was already anticipating going to Hunter so much that she didn’t care about her current school anymore but the truth was, I had no idea. Pa let her stay home a few times, but it didn’t seem to make things better.

I went over to Lisa and rearranged her blanket. She had the scarf I’d made for her tucked underneath her chin. I looked up to find Pa watching the both of us, seeming so sad that my heart hurt for him. He had a little ceramic pot in his hand, the one that he boiled his medicines in.

“Was the Vision here?” I asked.

Slowly, he nodded. “She gave Lisa a charm. It’s around her wrist.”

I looked and there was a bead bracelet around Lisa’s wrist, the same type that monks wore. You could buy them at the temple for a few dollars. I doubted the witch had been as inexpensive.

“Here is a bit of the strengthening medicine that Uncle Henry made for Lisa. I saved it for you.”

“What is it?”

“Donkey umbilical cord with herbs.”

I tried to keep my disgust from my expression. “Thanks so much, Pa, but I don’t need it.”

Pa stepped forward eagerly. “No, Charlie, you are working so hard and bringing home money for us. I only wish I could afford enough to get you a full dose of everything, instead of just the remains of what Lisa needs.”

I realized he was feeling bad, guilty that he hadn’t bought two donkey umbilical cords instead of one. “Pa, I really don’t need it. And even with my salary, how are you managing to pay for the Vision and all of the medicine?”

“Let me worry about that. The health of my two girls is more important than anything.”

I got up and hugged him awkwardly around the shoulder, being careful not to jostle his small pot. “You’re a great father. I need to rest now. Good night.”

“Are you sure about the medicine?”

“Yes, I’m really fine without it. It’s too late for me to be hungry anyway. Don’t waste it on me.”

With a nod, he was gone.


That wasn’t the first or last time I came home to the smell of fresh incense, meaning the witch had been present again. Lisa was sleeping with all sorts of new items. Once I found her with a red veil over her head, which was supposed to protect her from the evil spirits. All I could do was hope that it worked.


One night, as all of my fear welled up in me, I shut myself in the bathroom so I could call Zan on her mobile. Having only prepaid phones, we didn’t talk or text too much because of the expense, but sometimes I just needed a friend. She sounded groggy when she answered. I apologized, then told her everything that had been happening to Lisa.

“Oh, Charlie, why didn’t you tell me that she was getting worse?” Her voice was fearful. “I assumed it’d stopped after the test.”

“I guess it seemed like it would make things too real if I talked about it. When I saw you, I wanted to think about other things. Zan, do you believe in all of that Chinese medicine?”

“I never thought about it. My mother would make me herbal teas and stuff whenever I was sick. I feel guilty when I eat a lot of yang foods—you know, too much fried stuff and so on. It’s so much a part of our way of life, it’s hard to separate it out.”

“I know, I’ve always accepted it too. But it doesn’t seem to be helping Lisa.” My voice broke. “I’m at a loss.”

“Mo Li.”

“What?”

“You need to talk to Mo Li. She’ll know what to do.”


The next morning, when Mo Li answered her phone and heard it was me, she said, “What’s wrong?” since I almost never called her.

I filled her in as quickly as I could.

“I can’t believe there’s something wrong with Lisa,” she said. “I love that girl. She was always tagging along after us. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Listen, I don’t know a lot about medicine or treatments.”

“But you’re smart. You study. And read.”

“That counts for a lot less than you’d think. But if you’re asking for my opinion about eastern versus western medicine, I’d say that both types can be effective. Many eastern remedies have the same drugs in them that western medicine does. It’s just not quantified, so you don’t know exactly how much or what is in everything. Treatments like acupuncture have been proven to work.”

I heard the reservation in her voice. “But?”

“But the thing is that eastern medicine is still very much unknown. You have to trust the practitioner, believe that they know what they’re doing.”

“It’s my own Uncle Henry. And the Vision.”

“Well, you know how I feel about all of that mumbo jumbo. I can only tell you that if Lisa were my sister, I’d want to get her to a western specialist as well and hear what they thought.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. But we’re not insured.”

“Of course not. I don’t know, Charlie. I can just say that if you
have a trustworthy practitioner, that’s great. But if you don’t, how would you know if they were a fraud or not?”

“Mo Li! You don’t mean that.”

“I’m simply trying to be scientific here. What you really need is to talk to a medical person.”

I pressed my palm to my cheek. “You’ve given me an idea.”

Seventeen

I
waited anxiously until Jason and Naomi’s next lesson. Jason was a neurologist. I couldn’t remember exactly what Naomi did, but in any case, Jason was the one I wanted to consult. I learned a great deal just from chatting with my students as we went across the dance floor. Jason and Naomi were one of my favorite couples and they were so warm, I was sure they would do their best to help me. The moment they really stole my heart was when they were learning to tango.

“By day, I work at a hospital. But by night . . .” Jason waved his arm and suddenly a rose appeared in his hand, which he then tucked in between his teeth. The tango music rolled on. He pulled Naomi into a dip, then stood up, gave her the rose with a flourish. . . . “I am magic itself.”

I clapped, delighted. “How did you do that?”

“I’m a magician. This door-to-door fire alarm salesman came by one day and did a few tricks while trying to sell us his alarms. I was hooked, then started hanging out at the magic shop. It’s my hobby.”

“He does shows in the evenings and weekends,” Naomi said, very proud. “He has a partner who covers for him when he has to cancel at the last minute because of his hospital work.”

“So you may have two students for life in us,” Jason said. “As you can tell, I have a bit of a weakness for performing, and what better way to attract attention than by dancing up a storm with my lovely wife.”

Now a waltz was playing, and since they hadn’t learned how to travel around the room yet, they stayed in one corner and revolved like a merry-go-round. The other dancers steered around us. I thought about Pa and how grim and lonely his life was much of the time. He spent all of his time working and shunning everything outside of Chinatown. Jason and Naomi had two daughters as well, but if one of them had gotten sick, they wouldn’t be dragging witches home, they would know what to do. Of course, it wasn’t fair. Pa also worked day and night to earn what Jason probably made in an hour.

“Try an underarm turn,” I said.

Jason lifted his arm and Naomi waltzed underneath. “It must have been hard when your kids were little,” I said to her. “That Jason’s job could involve so much last-minute work.”

“Yes, but we’re lucky that my work is fairly flexible.” Naomi returned to dance position with him and they started revolving again.

“What do you do again?”

“I’m a psychiatrist.”

I hesitated. I wanted to get back to Jason, but to be polite, I asked, “How does that actually work?”

“I basically try to treat people’s mental problems. And my specialty is something that’s even less well known, which is conversion disorder: people who develop physical problems because of a mental
issue they have. Maybe you’ve heard of hysteria? That’s what it used to be called.”

“I think I remember a bit from school. Isn’t that people making things up?”

“Oh no, it’s very real. For example, you see people having actual seizures, only if you can manage to scan their brains at the same time, you find that there is a lack of neurological activity. People run the gamut of physical tests before turning to us. It drives the insurance companies crazy because it’s expensive to do all of those medical tests, and nothing will help until the underlying psychological problem is treated. But we have to be sure there is no physical cause.”

This was getting close to what I truly wanted to know. “Jason, how about trying a balance step now? Good.” He stumbled, then recovered. “How does health insurance work anyway?” I tried to sound nonchalant. “If I were to want to get some, for example?”

“Well, luckily, you look young and healthy. It’s not such a problem then to get a fairly inexpensive policy.”

“What happens if someone already has a problem?” I asked, again still trying to seem as if I didn’t really care.

He paused a moment, like he was trying to figure out how to say something difficult. “Insurance companies won’t cover pre-existing conditions. They’ll charge a hefty premium or put conditions on the payout. It’s like someone trying to buy fire insurance while their house is burning down. Although the law is changing and it may soon be possible, the reality is that it’s not right now.”

I took the plunge. “I know an eleven-year-old girl. She’s got headaches, dizziness, nightmares, wetting the bed at night, and the thing that really scared her family was she lost control of her legs for a minute or two.”

He stopped dead. “That could be serious. You need to get her diagnosed. Sounds like she needs an MRI scan. There are so many
reasons she could be having those symptoms. I’d need to see her first, see how much she can do, before I know which tests she’d need. Take a family history. There are so many different diseases it could be. You’d want to rule out a brain tumor or multiple sclerosis, which is often overlooked in children but can do very serious damage.”

My stomach clenched so hard, I felt like doubling over. Lisa could have something very serious. This confirmed it. It was like the nightmare with Ma all over again. I tried to keep them talking and reverted to a standard combination. “All right, let’s try two basic boxes, an underarm turn, two more basic boxes and then a balance step.”

Jason blew his hair out of his eyes and started.

During his boxes, I said, “If she didn’t or couldn’t get insurance, about how much would it cost to get her diagnosed?

Jason completely forgot the combination and only did the basic box step while he answered me. I could tell from Naomi’s smile that she noticed, but she didn’t say anything. “I don’t normally treat children so I’m not an expert on health laws concerning them. But if you’re just asking about the fees, it’s not just the cost of the consultation, which is usually at least around two hundred and fifty dollars, but you’d also need to cover any tests that needed to be done: MRI, EEG, CAT scan. It can all easily run into the thousands. But if you get her to me, I’ll help you as much as I can. I give you my word.”

Naomi nodded. “You can count on Jason.”

Thousands? How could I ever get that much money? It made the Vision look cheap by comparison; no wonder Pa stuck with our own kind. But I could have kissed Jason for his kindness. “I appreciate that so much. Now try the combination and I won’t distract you with more questions.”

After they’d left, I found myself pacing around the reception
area, unable to concentrate enough even to practice. Maybe Lisa had cancer. She could even die. My mind flinched away from the thought of a world without my little sister in it. I remembered a man who was one of Uncle Henry’s patients in the brief period I worked there. He’d had a tumor on the skin of his shoulder and didn’t have any insurance so he couldn’t get it treated. The tumor was already huge by the time he came to Uncle Henry. One day, he’d run into the office with his shirt wet and bleeding, clutching a towel against it, because the tumor had burst. I didn’t know what happened to him but I was pretty sure it wasn’t anything good, and all because he wasn’t insured.

Why was Pa wasting all of our money on Uncle Henry and the Vision? But deep inside, I knew the truth. Even if we’d saved everything he’d spent so far, we wouldn’t have enough. At least I had Jason now, who would be able to narrow down the tests so we had a chance of affording the treatment. I wondered how much more I could start saving, how quickly I might have enough. It could take years.


Much as I enjoyed watching Mateo give Cuban motion lessons to Ryan, I was usually being taught by Nina at the same time. Now that all of the choreography had been set, Nina went over every bit of it with me, step by step. After Dominic finished teaching us the number, my head had been spinning. It was only for a few minutes of dance but the amount of information we had to remember was tremendous. For every second we danced, I had to make so many notes to myself: keep the shoulders down, neck long, arms out, turn the hips more to the side, arch the back, get ready for the next step. The mambo was beautiful: romantic, sexy and very difficult. But the lifts—which now included several different approaches as well as lifted turns—were a struggle.

Nina alternated between doing my part and Ryan’s, depending on what I needed to work on, although she didn’t lift me. At the beginning, she’d given me tips throughout the entire lesson but sometimes, like today, we started chatting while we practiced.

“So, you’re never going to date again? Stay alone the rest of your life?” My voice was interrupted by my head whipping from side to side as she led me into a series of double-speed crossovers.

“What’s wrong with that?”

We froze into a holding position for a few beats, both hands down while the music pulsed behind us.

“Look at me, I have a list of issues a mile long.” Nina spun around and turned me at the same time so that we both did spiral turns, ending up side by side. On the beat, we began a series of forward walks parallel to each other, hips swiveling. “No regular guy’s going to come near me. I’m a single mother, I’m constantly gnawing on something. If I ever got my hands on chewing tobacco, I’d probably be spitting it out on the ballroom floor. I’m the most manlike girl there is.”

I laughed out loud. “Ridiculous. You’re gorgeous. When I first met you, I couldn’t stop staring at you because of the way you looked.”

She made a face. “Come on. You were amazed by my sagging titties. Take a look.” Nina stopped dancing and pulled down the elastic neckline of her peasant shirt, revealing her black lacy bra.

“Nina!” I looked around. Ryan and Mateo were now both staring at us. Even Dominic, Simone and Keith had stopped their coaching session to watch. Dominic made a little tsking motion with his hands at Nina, although he was smiling. “Can’t you take a compliment?”

Mateo slapped Ryan on the side of his head and they started working again. It seemed like they were talking about positioning
for lifts now, which looked pretty funny since Mateo found plenty of reasons for Ryan to be the girl so Mateo could put his hands all over him. Still, I had the feeling they were becoming friends.

Simone and Keith had already resumed their rumba. Sexy, restrained and elegant: it was the perfect dance for them and they already did it superbly. Dominic was walking around them, correcting Keith’s arms. They didn’t have any lifts but they had technique and style. The only flaw to me was that Simone always looked a bit too impeccable, as if she were posing for a camera. I preferred Nina, who danced with her heart and soul.


I practiced dancing whenever I was free, and when I couldn’t do that, I worked on my body with stretches, sit-ups and push-ups. I was so grateful I no longer had to answer phones or use a computer or fill in agendas for other people. This was work I could do. I’d always been lean but my musculature became more defined. I became stronger and more flexible than I’d ever been, and I could feel the difference when I danced with Ryan. When it worked, it was like we were two halves of the same person. I felt free and strong, beautiful and courageous, capable of anything. I could lose myself in the dancing and know that he’d be there to catch me when I needed him.

Although Ryan and I sometimes argued, I had to respect him. We were both covered in sweat after one of our sessions, but he was the one who had to pick me up repeatedly. I felt guilty when I made a mistake and he’d have to do it again. My body wasn’t always in the right place at the right time, I forgot to arch, I whacked him on the head with my arm but he never complained. He just accepted that it was his job to lift me in addition to his own dancing. His Cuban motion had improved, although it wasn’t anything to write
home about. At least his hips looked like they matched mine. And I appreciated that he always came on time and worked hard without complaining.

Now that it was April, Ryan’s work days were becoming longer and sometimes he had to return to the landscaping firm after our lessons. He often came to the studio in his workman’s pants and boots again, changing into regular shoes before he danced with me. I didn’t tell him that I loved seeing him in his gardener’s outfit. He always smelled of earth and greenery then, his body strong underneath the rough clothing.

One afternoon, I saw Ryan walk in behind me, reflected in the mirror. He was early today. He quietly sat down at one of the tables by the edge of the dance floor and I averted my eyes, pretending I hadn’t seen him. I focused on myself in the mirror and whipped off a turn to the right, spotting myself. Good, now a single turn to the left. Both clean turns, now the double turns. I stared myself in the eyes and did a double to the right, then a double to the left. Great, now that we’re warmed up, how about a triple to the right? One, two, three. Ryan just sat there and watched me with his intent gaze.


Irene interrupted us during our lesson. We were in the middle of a tango oversway where Ryan had just gone from a backward pivot turn to arching me back in his arms.

Irene tapped him on the shoulder. “There’s a phone call for Charlie. The girl says it’s an emergency.”

When I gasped, I broke my position, which threw my entire body out of balance. I floundered.

“Whoa,” said Ryan, steadying me. He put me back on my feet. “Take it—”

I’d already raced into the reception area to pick up the phone. The only person who knew I worked at the studio was Lisa.

“Charlie?” Her voice sounded much younger and higher on the phone.

“Are you all right?”

She started to sniff. “School was over and I didn’t feel okay enough to go to Uncle’s office. I’m sorry, Charlie. I just couldn’t do it today.”

“Are you sick? What happened?”

“I lost feeling in my legs again.” Her voice was thin and scared. “The teacher became alarmed in science class but I told her I’d hurt my ankle. Then it went away and I could walk out, so I did. Please don’t make me go to the office today, I feel too bad.”

I didn’t know what to do. Lisa’s school was in Chinatown. It would be the smartest thing to make her go to Uncle’s office but to tell them she couldn’t work today. At least Uncle could make sure she was all right until Pa and I got home. I couldn’t leave the studio with my entire schedule booked full, and Pa would get into trouble if he kept his kid at the restaurant.

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