The Fourth Day of November Page 9
The home’s plumbing was constructed by Sam and his neighbor. There were exposed pipes and fixtures, but it got the job done. Electricity ran to a small refrigerator and stove. Wires suspended from the ceiling generated dim lighting under the fading sun. This was Meyling and Sam’s home. All that mattered to them was having a roof over their heads and food to eat. This made them grateful to God for providing for them the little they had.
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Lee and I turned in for the night after talking about family back home. Meyling had cooked a very satisfying meal of mixed vegetables, rice, General Tao’s chicken and fried plantains. To accommodate Lee and I, the couple graciously gave up their bedroom. We were thankful for their overwhelming hospitality and kindness.
At daybreak, the sound of a cock crowing shattered our sleep.
“Somebody shoot that bloody bird for crying out loud!” I used the pillow to muffle the noise.
Lee jumped to her feet. “Honey, rise and shine!”
“Do we have to get up?” I groaned.
“Yes, we do. We’re here on vacation. You can rest when we get back home.” She beamed from ear to ear.
“There’s a fat chance of that.”
Lee straddled me, gaining the upper hand by teasing mini me. She jumped off suddenly when there was a banging from the other side of the shutter. Lee poked her head out of the square frame. “Morning Sam. What are you doing today? Are you and Meyling going to come to town with us?” Lee asked.
“No, I have a lot of work to do.” Sam replied heading to conduct his early morning responsibilities.
“How about my husband and I come help you?”
I pulled Lee back down on the bed, playfully tussling with her for teasing me earlier.
“Alistair, stop it!” Lee shouted giggling loudly. “Alistair, stop. I’m speaking with Sam.”
Lee wiggled free, finger-combing her hair and adjusting her tee shirt. She resumed her conversation with Sam. “As I was saying, my husband and I would love to help.”
“Okay, you’re going to have to wear some old clothing. Meyling will find you and Alistair something to wear.”
Meyling managed to find clothing for the two of us. She took her children next-door to Mr. and Mrs. Fong. Not having any children of their own, the Fongs enjoyed looking after the little ones. (It’s funny how life sometimes deprives the people that will make great parents.)
Sam escorted us to a large chicken coop. He unlocked the wire gate made from bands of thin wood that supported its framework. The coop housed dozens of chickens. First, we gathered eggs before thoroughly cleaning the coop, which smelled bloody rancid.
Mr. Fong arrived to lend a helping hand. He was an average-looking fellow with medium build and traces of grey hair. He was fifteen years Sam’s senior, but one wouldn’t think that judging by his youthful appearance. He worked vigorously like the other young men. Fung said very little, but laughed at the sight of me almost heaving my ring piece up at the sight and smell of my surroundings.
Lee asked if I was okay.
“I'm glad we haven't eaten breakfast yet.” I tried to smile away the experience.
“Here honey, take this.” Lee gave me an extra bandana to put around my nose and mouth.
Once that episode ended, everyone raked and cleared away dried straw and chicken feces. We replaced the straw with fresh dried grass. Lee and I took large gulps of fresh air to get rid of the horrid lingering smell. Sam offered us a drink of water from a ladle to refresh our spirits. Afterwards, we tackled the rice paddy. Sam and Fung warned us of snakes. This was one of many reptiles I disliked. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to let a slippery sidewinder stop Lee or me from helping harvest the rice.
What initially looked easy happened to be quite an intricate process. Sam showed us how to remove rice stalks and clean them by wiping them against our feet to clear away chunks of mud. Lee and I got the hang of laboring with speed in the company of others. We worked in absolute silence, and only stopped to have a quick meal of rice and fish brought to us by the village women.
My back was killing me after being bent over for hours. Lee was also in pain. The hardworking natives had adapted to this daily toil. They had little to no time to enjoy the simple things, with the exception of, church services every Sunday. This the villagers looked forward to.
As sundown loomed, the assembly of workers headed back to their homes to prepare for the early morning start. Many of the men remained outside to load an old lorry used to transport large seventy-pound bags of rice that were sold in the city. Manufacturers would acquire the crops cheaply from the villagers to sell overseas for marked up prices. Once we finished loading the lorry, we bid each other goodnight.
Meyling and Lee made supper. I went for a shower before sitting down to have dinner. Meyling and Lee put the children to bed, who were fed earlier. Sam said grace and we talked and enjoyed a well-deserved meal after a hard day of work.
April 14, 1989
Sam changed gears in the clapped out lorry over the bumpy roads with Fong and I riding shotgun. Sam bobbed up and down at each hump in his air ride seat. The bench seat springs poked me in the back and bottom. Fong complained and held on to a hanging strap, hoisting himself off the seat every time we hit a hump or pothole.
“This is going to be a long ride to the city.” I mumbled to myself.
We were headed into town to sell a lorry load of rice bales. Sam explained to me how they made their deals, and agreed to a set price per bale. I would learn that day how far some people would go to exploit the underprivileged.
Sam slowed the lorry behind two other lorries, and waited for a fellow to signal us forward. He exited the lorry and asked that I pull forward while he informed his buyers of the arrival of their shipment. From afar, a bloke flagged me forward. I moved forward slowly, stopping in front of a chap that directed me to back up into a loading dock. Once there, the three of us began humping off bales of rice. We then watched as shipping clerks weighed each bag and counted the bundles. Afterwards, they handed us a delivery slip made out in Chinese numbers. Sam explained to me what each symbol meant.
I’d never been one for math, but I noticed that the count and weight was off significantly. Sam returned to speak with the clerk, hoping to sort out the dilemma. From where I stood, things didn’t seem to be working in his favor. The clerk stormed into a small room returning with another man. He spoke English. I walked over to aid Sam with moral support. I was told that it was none of my business and that I should go.
Although we tried to reason with the men, things got ugly. The clerk had put his hand on me one too many times, after I had warned him not to do so. So when I retaliated, I grabbed his arm twisting it behind his back and pushed him forward. In a matter of seconds, Sam, Fung and I found ourselves in a massive scrap, throwing lefts, rights and front kicks. My two companions were mashing up any and everybody that got involved. A voice shouted for us to stop. I backed down, but not before dropping the matey in front of me with a ferocious left hook and right uppercut.
To my right was the young man that had sold Lee and I the sketched portrait at the market when we first arrived. I wasn’t sure why he was there. Things got even stranger when Chin appeared.
“Hey, you kicked some ass! It's about time somebody beat the crap out of the Fengs.” Chin applauded. “What the--?” Chin’s accolades were cut short when a black Mercedes screeched to a stop before almost side-swiping him. A well-dressed man egressed from the passenger side.
The man in the dark suit blamed Feng for the altercation. But, Feng displayed no sign of backing down. Sam, Fung and I advanced forward in an attempt to explain that the young bloke had commenced the shouting match. Chin intervened, drawing the attention of the older of the two gentleman, calling him Mr. Feng. It was then that we learned of their father and son relationship.
Older Feng looked directly at us, standing toe-to-toe with me, and asking who I was to lay blame on his staff for wrong doing. Feng was outraged. No way wer
e we going to let some suit browbeat us. Sam disclosed his feelings to Feng about being a loyal reliable customer all these years, and finding himself and villagers victims of double dealings. Feng asked him for proof.
Before I could interject, Sam palmed Feng the piece of paper with the evidence. The old man tore the paper into shreds. I had to do something. It was time for me to step in and tell a little white lie. I flashed Feng a business card of the freight company I was working nights for. I boldly stated that I was an official from overseas observing shipping practices of international traders. The old geezer’s cocky face distorted once he realized he no longer had the upper hand. I was a big shot from New York, and he knew he had to make things right.
To make a long story short, Feng ordered his employee to make up the differences. Once that was over, we got back into the clapped out Leyland lorry and headed back home. That was enough excitement for one day.
Explaining what had transpired to our wives wouldn’t be easy. Nonetheless, Lee and Meyling greeted us upon our arrival, and wondered why we took so long to make the delivery. Noticing the three of us looked like we were dragged through a hedge backwards because of our visible bruises, Lee and Meyling marched us inside demanding some kind of clarification or account of what happened during the scheduled drop off. After telling our spouses what took place, the women feared some kind of retribution would be planned. But, Sam and I managed to induce our panic stricken wives. We assured them that there wouldn’t be any reprisal of that sort.
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“The stars are beautiful tonight; like every night.” Lee said as we walked hand-in-hand through the moonlit village. All was quiet apart from the reverberation of nearby livestock and an owl hoot or two.
“Honey, I never meant to get upset with you over what ensued earlier. I was purely concerned for my husband and cousin.” Lee’s face was full of concern as she spoke.
“Sweetheart, who could blame you for feeling perturbed?” I squeezed her hand.
“So that you know, I'm very proud of what you did for our family; even though, I totally confute. Fighting is not the answer.”
I was about to butt in, but Lee muted my interruption. “As I was saying, you still did the right thing standing up for people who are powerless in comparison to affluent people who think less of benevolence and more of money. The villagers will never forget what you have done for them. Making a difference in life is about helping others, and not just ourselves.”
“We ought to head back.” I suggested.
“I don’t want to leave just yet. It's really picturesque.” Lee replied. “Besides, I would like for us to do something nice for Sam and Meyling.”
“I’m all for that. What do you have in mind?”
“A night on the town; God knows they need a little fun in their lives after working day and night.” Lee smiled.
The price of giving warmed both our hearts.
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Meyling and Sam were still awake when we returned. Lee and I told the couple of our plan to take them shopping for an evening on the town. Naturally, Sam and Meyling were lost for words. The only familiarities they had with the city life had always been work-related.
April 22, 1989
Chin dropped us off outside of an old friend’s clothing store. He asked us to remain in the car while he conversed with his longtime pal. He returned with a short, well-dressed gentleman who wore a white shirt, black trousers and dark rimmed spectacles. Chin acquainted us with the fellow who respectfully told us his name was Wang, a childhood friend of Happy aka Willie. Lee elbowed me for simpering. Wang mentioned that Willie had married the prettiest girl in the village. He was taken aback by Lee's likeness to her mother.
Once inside the store, Wang summoned his sales clerks to assist us. He told them to cater to our needs, and to not overcharge us. Sam and I quickly found two wicked looking mandarin-style dress suits. On the other hand, Lee and Meyling took what seemed to be forever. After finding their dresses, they decided to get their hair done next-door. Sam and I followed their lead, and got serviced for haircuts and close shaves.
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Sam and I took the elevator downstairs to the bar where we waited for our wives who were still busy getting ready. Sam cleaned up nicely. He was a new person in comparison to his everyday attire and look.
“Alistair, I've never said thank you for what you and Lee have done for my family. Thank you.”
“There is no need to thank us. We're family, we look out for each other. Now, what would you like to drink?”
“I'm not sure. What is there?” Sam asked an attractive Asian woman behind the bar.
She suggested a vodka martini for us both. I, politely, declined, and instead ordered a diet Pepsi with no ice. We lifted our glasses just as our wives made an eye-catching entrance. Lee modeled a long white Cheongsam dress. Her hair was in a beautiful up do with drop curls, which perfectly showcased her pearl earrings. Meyling wore a green Cheongsam dress with matching earrings. Her shoulder length hair was styled in drop curls.
Lee took my breath away. A beautiful oil painting couldn’t illustrate her pulchritude. Even Sam lost his train of thought when he saw the woman he’d been married to for ten years. She was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.
“Meyling you look glorious.” Sam gushed.
Meyling blushed like a bashful teenager on a first date.
Lee held my hand as we watched the Piao Liang couple, as they say in mandarin, fall deeper in love. “Isn’t God wonderful.” Lee said smiling observing her cousins.
Our evening at dinner and the Chinese opera was nothing short of astounding.
May 1, 1989
After returning to New York, I kept myself busy putting together a presentation for the bank. Ronnie, Peter and I were hoping to secure a loan to help fund our enterprise. While occupied with paperwork, Lee was engaged in completing her final school papers. Nevertheless, after carefully reviewing my own work I knew that whatever the bank threw at us wouldn’t deter three ambitious individuals and our pursuit of happiness.
May 3, 1989
Having been coaxed to dinner by my father-in-law for today, it seemed doubtful that we were going to make it. We would likely have to take a rain check since Lee had been under the weather for a few days. The only thing that seemed to settle her stomach was the likely combination of ginger ale and saltines. When I suggested that we stay home, I was surprised at Lee’s response. She refused to miss out on her mother’s cooking, so we ended up leaving the house sometime after three to join the family for dinner.
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“Have you had enough to eat, Alistair?” asked Mrs. Chang.
“I'm fine, thank you. I can't eat another thing.”
“What about you, dear?” Mrs. Chang focused her attention on her youngest daughter, who had already gotten up for second helpings from the kitchen. “Well, that answers that question; doesn't it? Mrs. Chang said as Lee walked back to the table. She was quite surprised with her daughter’s uncharacteristically voracious appetite.
“What are you all looking at?” Lee asked suspiciously when she realized that the family had stop conversing and her now gawking at her. The family ignored her inquiry and continued eating. Lee shrugged her shoulders and followed suit.
Once the focus was off Lee, Willie inquired as to how my presentation was going. He offered to give me some advise from one business man to another. Willie could see my passion and drive. He also knew that inhibition had no place in my life after having witnessed my proposal and marriage to his daughter.
Grandpa Chang interjected his two cents into our conversations. He reminded me that success is near. He then asked how I would handle it because there was an even bigger responsibility and challenge lying ahead of me. In that moment, I was unable to grasp what Grandpa Chang meant.
Mrs. Chang brought in tea and coffee on a tray with yellow cake, which had a slice taken from it. Lee emerged from the kitchen holding a small plate while feasting on the m
issing one third. Shortly after her second slice of cake, Lee complained of a stomach ache. With as much sensitivity as I could muster, I asked my wife where she was putting all the stuff she was eating that evening.
She simply responded, “I haven't eaten much.”
I looked at my wife bewildered. Lacy shook her head in disbelief at Lee's reply.
My mother-in-law, who insisted that I call her Lucy or mum, brought out the family photo album after dessert. I enjoyed seeing Lacy and Lee in little white frocks, holding teddy bears. Lacy frowned at the camera. Lee seemed shy.