The First Excellence: Fa-Ling's Map (22 page)

The plan was for Randy and Shopei to compare Wu Tang to the sketch before they approached him. Only when they were reasonably satisfied he fit Gui-Jing’s description would they bring him to Long’s house.

**

“
What do you think?” Randy said. From their vantage-point on the other side of the fountain he used his zoom lens to photograph the man on the bench.

“
It’s hard to tell,” Shopei said. “He’s the right age, right build. I’m trying to imagine what Gui-Jing was like before she was imprisoned, and what kind of man she would have married.”

“
In the States we have a saying: You can always smell a pig.”

“
What does that mean?”

“
It means that a cop is a cop, in any country. They all look the same.”

“
You think he’s a cop?” Shopei looked around the park. “No one else seems to be with him. Maybe we should talk to him before we decide what to do.”

“
Call him on the phone first. Tell him we can’t get to the park. Tell him to meet us at the dim sum place. Let’s see how he reacts to the call. If he talks into his collar or if he calls someone, then we’ll walk away.”

“
Good idea,” Shopei said. She took the phone from Randy. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand to reduce the noise from the water fountain. She and Randy watched as the man fumbled to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“
Hello,” Yong-qi said.

“
Is this Wu?” Shopei said.

“
It is. I am waiting for you at the fountain as we agreed.”

“
I am not able to get to the park after all. There is a dim sum restaurant half a block from the Consulate called The Lucky Monkey. Meet me there.”

“
I didn’t see a restaurant on this street.”

“
It’s on the other side of the American building. It has a purple sign.”

Wang Yong-qi paused. His instincts told him he was being watched. He tried to imagine how Wu Tang would react to this new request. No doubt the husband of a dying woman would be frantic, and would not take kindly to being played with. He stood up and paced nervously.

“
Why can’t you come here?” he demanded. “This is where we agreed to meet.”

“
If you want to see your wife, come to the restaurant immediately.” Shopei closed the phone and handed it back to her cousin.

Randy continued to photograph the man. He wished Master Long had a computer so he could email a photo to Gui-Jing. He’d heard how Long had no desire to own a computer, despite his love of gadgets. He wanted nothing that would provoke the envy of his neighbours. He appreciated only those people and things that made their way onto his life’s path: his patients, his garden, his immediate neighbourhood.

Shopei watched the man put his phone into his jacket pocket. He stopped pacing suddenly, looked up at the sky, raised his arms in frustration and started toward the park exit.

Shopei hurried to intercept him.

“
Wait,” Randy said. He was still not convinced the man was who he pretended to be. Everything about him — the thrust of his jaw, the way his clothes sat on his body — fit Randy’s idea of a cop.

“
He didn’t call anyone,” Shopei said. “I’m sure he’s the husband.”

Wang turned when Shopei called out to him. He feigned surprise, then annoyance. He hoped Cheng, who was watching him from the rental car parked a short distance away, was enjoying his performance.

Wang was not concerned that Cheng would lose sight of him. He’d left his weapon in the car, but he could feel the outline of a tiny GPS locating device pressing against his thigh from inside the pocket of his jeans. He hoped the girl would be too modest to search him thoroughly.

He was surprised to see a young man trot up beside the girl. He should have realised she would not come alone.

“
Wu Tang,” Shopei said, “are you the husband of Wu Gui-Jing?”

“
I am,” Wang said.

“
Please open your coat,” Randy said. Shopei translated his words into Cantonese and Wang did as he was told.

“
Take it off.”

Wang Yong-qi took his coat off and handed it to Randy.

Randy checked inside the pockets.

“
Do you have any identification?” he asked.

“
No. Since my wife was taken, I have not carried any papers.”

“
Lift your arms,” Randy said. Wang obeyed, and Randy patted him down for weapons before returning his jacket to him.

“
When was your wife taken?” Shopei asked.

“
About two months ago.” Wang was bluffing, not knowing the answer. Luckily for him, Shopei was also bluffing. She had no idea how long Gui-Jing was in prison before her father brought her to Long. “Who are you?” Wang demanded.

“
Who we are is not important. Why was your wife arrested?” Shopei asked.

In light of the manner of Wu Tang’s death, Wang was able to guess why his wife had been taken.

“
She was accused of following the teachings of Master Li Hongzhi,” he said. “Falun Gong is not a religion. Gui-Jing did nothing against the law.”

“
You are in for a terrible shock,” Shopei said. “Your wife has been injured. Are you prepared to see her?”

“
Yes,” Yong-qi said. “I am ready.”

Cynthia led the group into the crowded restaurant. She did not understand why the adopting couples would want to eat anyplace other than at the hotel. The Golden Lion was a five-star establishment. Its dining facilities were far superior to anything that was available to the average Chinese citizen.

In his excitement over receiving a new baby boy, Chris Brahn announced he would like to experience some ‘local colour’. The others agreed, so Cynthia was forced to come up with a restaurant that would live up to their Western standards of quality, while at the same time offering them a taste of the exotic.

This was Cynthia’s first ‘adoption tour’, though she would never admit her lack of experience to the foreigners. The position of Official Guide for the China Centre of Adoption Affairs was one that was much coveted. Only the most educated, most qualified, and — let’s face it — most physically attractive applicants were given the honour of representing China to the hordes of foreigners who came every month to adopt the seemingly endless supply of baby girls.

Cynthia had been embarrassed the previous night over the ‘blue pen’ incident. It had not occurred to her the Canadians would use blue ink to complete official government documents. How could she have known? Such a thing was unheard of in China.

She would have to be careful not to make any more mistakes. She did not want the group to give her an unfavourable report. The one thing of value she had learned during her two years spent as a hospital laundress was that she
never
wanted to go back. She still could not believe her good fortune. From among two thousand applicants in the three Southern provinces, she alone had been chosen as a guide.

Imagine! She didn’t even have a relative in the Ministry.

She studied the group as they entered the restaurant, anxious to mimic their mannerisms. She had heard terrible stories of Western rudeness from her fellow-guides, but so far she had not encountered any real unpleasantness from the Canadians. They spoke amongst themselves happily, including her in their conversation.

“
Do we prefer one large table, or two smaller ones?” Eloise Golluck said.

“
I think one large one,” Joseph answered. “Let’s share the moment.” The others nodded in agreement.

“
If anyone has dietary restrictions,” Cynthia said, “it is best to let me know now and I will speak with the maitre-d’. Shellfish and nuts are common ingredients in most local dishes.”

“
Anyone have any allergies?” Chris Brahn asked. “No? Ok, then, I suggest we let Cynthia know the kind of food we all like, and she can order for us.”

Fa-ling scanned the faces of the happy parents as the dishes began to arrive one after another. The five hungry babies looked as though they had never seen so much food. They gorged on meat and fish, ignoring the baby bottles of formula their new mothers had thoughtfully packed for them.

“
Congee is coming for the little ones,” Cynthia said. Two waitresses brought five bowls of starchy water, the thin rice soup that was the basis of many local dishes. It was also commonly used as the first food for babies, introducing their bodies to carbohydrates.

Chris and Yvanna’s son Daniel peered expectantly into the tiny white bowl, trying to stick his face into the liquid for a taste. Yvanna lifted the dish to his mouth and he drank some, but immediately spit it out and pushed the bowl away, reaching instead for a piece of chicken in bean sauce.

“
No congee for this guy,” Chris said. “He knows what he wants.”

Yvanna laughed and spooned another piece of chicken onto Daniel’s plate.

No doubt,
Fa-ling thought,
the poor little guy has had enough congee to last a lifetime.

It was amazing to Fa-ling how this group of parents was in fact such a perfect cross-section of Canadian society. Facing an identical situation, each couple reacted to the circumstances in their own unique way.

Of course, everyone was polite. She was proud of the way they treated their guide, Cynthia, with respect. After all, that was one of the typical hallmarks of being ‘Canadian’, to display courtesy among strangers.

Still, looking around the table, the personality of each new parent came to bear on his reaction to the babies. Yvanna Brahn bristled with enthusiasm, joyfully introducing baby Daniel to each of the little girls. Chris beamed with pride, letting his wife take charge of the boy and enjoying her pleasure.

Adrian and Ting-lo were obviously happy, but they remained subdued. They spoke to each other in whispers, taking turns holding Anna and carefully wiping her fingers as she reached for yet another handful of fish.

The Kitcheners were kept busy with their three children. The two older girls laughed and argued with each other, vying for their baby sister’s attention.

Eloise and Joseph Golluck kept the mood light with their bright good humour. Joseph spent a portion of the evening eating his meal with baby Meiju perched on his shoulders. The little girl laughed each time he handed her something good to eat. He ended up with as much food in his hair as Meiju managed to swallow, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The Kaders kept up their part of the conversation, though it appeared to be a struggle for them. Guy stepped into the role of mother, holding baby Mei Mei on his lap throughout the meal. Paula helped with the food and drinks, but was distracted. She kept looking at the door, as if she had someplace else to be.

Cynthia was shocked at the easy way they handled their babies, passing them around from couple to couple and not even taking care to cover the bare legs of the girls against the chill of the air conditioner. Such a thing would be frowned upon in her community. Chinese parents were notorious fuss-pots who kept their youngsters strapped in strollers, never allowing their limbs to be exposed to the open air.

Despite signs of malnutrition, the babies were much healthier than Fa-ling had expected. It seemed as though the poverty of the Guangxi Autonomous Region had worked in their favour, forcing the under-funded orphanages to push the babies out into foster care at seven months. Even poor foster care was usually better than what was offered in the institutions.

What surprised Fa-ling most was the ease with which the adults became ‘parents’ in a meaningful sense of the word. Only a few short hours ago, four of the couples had been childless. None of the couples had ever adopted before now, and they had no idea what to expect. Still, they instinctively held their babies against the warmth of their own bodies, filling their bellies and wiping their faces.

The experience was astonishing for Fa-ling. It elevated her understanding of the parent-child relationship, placing it in a light she had never before considered.

Reflecting on her childhood, she realised she had wasted too much time trapped in insecurity, doubting the devotion of her parents. It wasn’t their love she mistrusted, but her own worthiness. No matter what she achieved, she always had the sense it wasn’t enough, that she was somehow falling short of her own ideals.

Now, for the first time, she could sit back as an uninvolved witness to life. The affection that flowed from parent to child wove its tendrils among the dishes and the napkins in a web that was almost visible. These babies had done nothing to earn such devotion. They didn’t have to.

It was the nature of the relationship, this outpouring of unconditional love.

Fa-ling resolved to call her mother as soon as they got back to the hotel, and also to have another talk with Daphne. It was time to stop mincing words with her sister. Daphne needed to get past whatever was bothering her and learn to appreciate what she had been given.

**

At 9:00 p.m. the restaurant erupted into a general cyclone of noise and activity, as dishes were cleared and tables put right in preparation for the live theatre. A Master of Ceremonies bounded onto the stage, greeting the audience in a strange Chinese falsetto. His act must have been popular, because it was met with raucous laughter, especially from a large table in the corner where a group of twelve young military men were filling up on beer and whitefish.