Showing posts with label Siu-wong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Siu-wong. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 06, 2017

Jordan: Reset Again

Tuesday

As you read from Max, things got a little heated between us a week ago; one of the things I really didn't think about with the Inn, at least for me, since I've turned into single adults both times, is that it reduces family drama a whole ton. I miss Max and my parents, but I'm a little glad not to have certain obligations, or them looking disappointed at me, or all the times Max made fun of my weight as a punk kid.  So not seeing them doesn't make me happy, but there's also things I don't miss, and when you drop into a new life with a clean slate, you don't automatically pick up someone else's issues to compensate.  Like, I didn't know what Yuan-wei's issues with Chen-ai were, but what-the-fuck-ever, I didn't need to make them mine.  Net drama level, lower, even if I missed people. 

So, fighting with him kind of sucked, and sucked more because I'd forgotten what it was like to fight with him for real, not just argue like we have been ever since he got turned into Elaine #3.  And maybe we would have kept fighting if Annette hadn't been there to meet us at the train station, but she was, hugging us both and saying she'd already scouted the Inn, and it was pretty much empty, which was to be expected since Brittany had posted on Monday.  It would have been tough to get hints about what I had in store for me anyway, as Room 7 is hard to see into from either the street or the beach.

She was looking kind of furtive as we walked down the street toward the condo I'd found on AirBNB, saying that it had been fun to not really flirt but still talk to Benny's cousin like they were old friends when she bumped into him on the street earlier that day, and boy, did guys start assuming that meant she wanted to fuck.  She asked if college guys were like that, and I had to tell her that, from relatively recent experience in both sides, they were worse.  She groaned about how she was not ready to jump right into her senior year like she knew what she was doing, either academically or as a girl who isn't even old enough to drink.

The subject changed when we got to the condo I'd rented - "only" two bedrooms but furnished and nice, right near the beach.  If I was going to lose Yuan-wei's trust fund in a matter of days, I figured I'd better get some use out of it until then.  Annette said that if this were a movie, that would be the signal to start a shopping montage, so we took a cab into Portland and did some of that.  I may not have had much reason to do it for myself, but Annette was into getting some new outfits, and even Max admitted that he might as well stock up, because he didn't know when he'd be working.

Wednesday

It was 80 degrees on Wednesday, so I declared a beach day, and Annette agreed, leaving Max out-voted.  Annette was a bit nervous about her swimsuit, but she looked super-cute, and the two of us even managed to cajole Max into one, saying that we should have one day as sexy girls together.  I'd sneaked a red one into a shipping bag the day before, and as he was changing, I told him through the door that it wasn't a big deal - I'd seen him wearing a Speedo at the beach before, so I knew it wasn't the near-nakedness, it was just feeling the bra part do its work, a constant reminder that you've got tits and dudes are judging you based upon them. 

Max reeked of fear more than I did as Deirdre at his 9-man tournament, and you could see it until Annette got the idea to give him dark shades, and then, daaaaaaamn!  He kind of looked badass even before he realized he looked badass, and I think he finally realized that this could be like a Halloween costume, that you can be yourself and this other thing, and maybe use that other thing to bring part of yourself out. 

Anyway, we had fun on the beach, played some volleyball, ate some pizza at lunchtime and fish and chips for dinner.  I actually ate a fucking lot that day, because while I've been pretty lucky to have a good metabolism as Yuan-wei, it's not like I can just shove as much down my throat as I used to and keep it up.  The good news is that, between vanity and changed taste buds, I like grilled fish and vegetarian meals way more than I used to; the bad news is that is not quite enough.  I don't have to actually go out and run to keep fat from selling in the wrong part of my ass just yet, but I kind of figured it would serve Carlotta right if she had a few pounds to work off.

Shit, I spent a few minutes in from of a barbershop, thinking about going in and having them cut it all off, but Max said they'd probably take it out on him.  Wasn't terribly impressed with my idea of getting my hair dyed blue to see whether Carlotta got stuck with it or if the chemicals stayed on my head, either.

Day had to end, though you couldn't tell my brain that; I was up until 4am dicking around on the Internet, trying to finish a book, and other shit until I finally passed out when the sunrise made a mockery of my apparent attempt to keep the next day from coming by not sleeping.

Thursday

It did, though, even if Max and Annette let me sleep until noon.  I didn't spend long writing a letter to go in my luggage - "Fuck you and your sister" seemed to cover it - but still put everything together and started dragging it down the street.  Picked up the key and coupon packet, and felt kind of jelly-legged as I got to the door of the Trading Post, glad Max and Annette were along for support.  We navigated or way to Room 8 and felt pretty fucking stupid praising before we opened the door, as we all knew from experience that there'd be nothing in there but a cheap-ass hotel room.

Wrong again.  Yang Chen-ai was seated on the edge of the bed, wearing an elegant traditional Chinese dress, legs crossed, a tablet right next to her.  I dropped the handle to my suitcase out of shock.

She looked at Max and Annette in turn.  "Ladies, I ask you - is it proper for a girl to go her entire summer break, her last one before graduating University even, without visiting her lonely widowed mother even once?"  Getting no response, she walked up to me, making me look up because she was wearing four-inch heels and I had sneakers.  "And you, you ungrateful daughter!  Did you never learn to talk to your mother when someone is bullying you?"

It would take Max and me a few minutes to figure out how to respond, but Annette's needs were simpler.  "Guys, what is going on?"

Chen-ai turned to Annette and smiled in a less sarcastic fashion, switching to English.  "Still don't speak Cantonese, eh?  Well, I don't blame you - Mandarin is the language of the twenty-first century, isn't it?"  She walked back toward the bed, picked up the tablet, and then turned around.  "That's what Carlotta was counting on, you know - that either Annette or Benjamin would wind up as Yuan-wei, and then by either staying in America despite the police wanting to speak to her or being unable to answer a simple question once she arrived back home, she would look guilty enough for the admittedly circumstantial evidence linking her to my husband's death to look damming.  They certainly didn't plan on the likes of Jordan Chang being able to come to Hong Kong and pass as Yuan-wei well enough to avoid suspicion, no matter how many anonymous tips they sent to the HKPD."

My mouth went dry.  "How did you know?"

The smile want friendly any more.  "Sweetie, haven't you figured it out?  If you're one in a million, it's almost unfathomable that two felons from the streets of New York's Chinatown would just happen to show up directly after a couple of teenagers from Hong Kong unless someone arranged it.  I arranged it."

Max was the first one to react, stepping out in front of me and seemingly ready to attack Chen-ai before Annette and I grabbed him.  "You did this to your own daughter?  What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it?  I came to the Trading Post Inn in the summer of 1994, twenty-three years old and looking to paint lighthouses for a couple of weeks.  Well, you know how that goes; I wind up in Harlem, of all places.  My English isn't great, but I kind of think it might be good for me to be American for a year - you guys are all too young to remember what Hong Kong was like before the handover, but a lot of people were looking for a way out, scared.  I almost think it's fate, even, because the next year, the new Yang Chen-ai says she's having visa problems, but we book things for the next spring.

"That's when I find out I have a daughter, eight months old, who has no idea that I'm not her mother, no instinct saying she should be with someone else.

"I'm not asking for your sympathy here.  The rest of my life is good - Siu-wong has built the business, started cultivating contacts with the mainland, and don't get me wrong, if Yuan-wei was someone else's kid, I'd think she's delightful.  But I didn't have nine months to get used to the idea,  I didn't like how she was first in my husband's heart, and when Siu-wong updated his will to make her his primary beneficiary, saying it's just good estate planning, right around the time she announces that she wants to study in America, and I find out that Carlotta Wong has just gotten out of prison...

"Well, I suppose I should tell you about the Wongs, first.  Not that there's really a lot to tell - Chinese-American father, Italian-American mother, in trouble since they were kids, and they tended to make bigger bad decisions as they got older.  Not many people liked them.  But they hung out with the black girl who was more comfortable speaking Cantonese or Mandarin than English.  They beat the bastard who got turned into that girl's husband half to death when he tried to rape her.  I owe them as much as any of you owe each other.  More, because they helped me without any understanding of why I was so strange.  So when I saw a chance to give them a little of what I had, I took it.  They did far more to earn a comfortable life than Yuan-wei or Bingbing ever did.

"So I truly regret that it had to come to this."

She activated the tablet, jumped to a video app, and handed it to me.  Max and Annette drew in closer, and I hit play.

The image that appeared was the room we were in, lit by just the overhead light, but that was enough to see Max and Bingbing tied and cuffed to metal chairs, gags in their mouths, eyes wide open.  "Max" was already on the floor, trying to make his way to the door, but a chain between the chairs ran under the bed.  They were well and truly fucked, and then the change started happening.

It took a while - we had to fast-forward the recording - but when it was done, they were both Asian-American women about Chen-ai's age, but you could tell they'd lived harder lives.  Carlotta -the one who had been Max - was able to wriggle out of the handcuffs and push the now-loose ropes around her off, pulling her gag out and yelling "Chen-ai You Bitch--!"

She stopped the recording and took her tablet back from me.  "I should have seen it coming, of course.  They were always up to no good, and it's easy to get along when you all have nothing, but when there's something to fight over?  Things get ugly.

"I don't really hold a grudge against them.  But this whole deal, with Max and you and everything, it probably ends with them trying to kill me and inherit everything, and my gratitude for what they did for me only extends so far."

The three of us had inconvenient pulled a little closer together as she told this story.  I tried to stand up a little straighter, but my back want really feeling it.  Annette asked what she wanted from us.

"From you?  Not a thing.  Study hard, stay in school, or don't."  She turned slightly to face Max.  "Same for you.  I figure you'll want to get out of that body, and as you saw, Carlotta was right here--"

She pointed to a spot on the floor.

"--when she changed back.  I suspect you'll want to use your brother's reservation and maybe either drag the bed to this side of the room or just plant a chair there every night.  Unless you'd like to try being Bingbing for a while."

Max shook his head hard, and Chen-ai smiled before looking at me.  "As for you, it's pretty simple.  I want whatever I want, whenever I want it."

I swallowed.  "That's... vague."

She shrugged.  "Well, I'm not sure what the next few years might hold.  I often thought that I would take over Yuan-wei's life right after she graduated from college, but I don't exactly feel old enough to stop being me yet.  But maybe I get sick.  Or maybe I just want you to invest your money a certain way - Siu-wong was right about paying it straight to his daughter rather than allowing it to be taxed twice if it passes through me, especially if my daughter will do what she's told.  But let's start with this:  Get out your phone and send Jacky a text message saying that the last couple weeks were fun, but it also made you realize that the long-distance thing will never work out."

I actually staggered a bit.  "What?  Why?"

"Because your mother knows what's best for you, and it's important that you understand that, and it's important that I know I can count on you."  She walked over to the room's desk and opened up the designer bag that was laying there, taking out a phone and a piece of paper.  "I can get the men who brought my friends to this room here very quickly.  I don't want to - any damage they do to you will show up on the next Yuan-wei, and that's trouble I don't need, but I can probably figure out an explanation.  And I've got this."

After gesturing with and replacing the phone, she held up the paper.  It was heavy, with some gold leaf and embossing, and when I saw what was in bold letters on the top...  "Holy shit!"

"It's not that impressive - just one piece of voting stock for 'Trading Post Inc.'  I have more.  Not nearly enough to be majority shareholder, but having this does bring some privileges, like getting bookings canceled and rearranged at short notice, or even a spare key to surprise your daughter, if you know who to ask."  She changed how she was holding it, using her fingers on the corners to hold it flat.  "Happy birthday, Yuan-wei."

Annette looked from me to her and back as I nervously took the other corners as Chen-ai let go.  "Excuse me, what?"

Chen-ai looked at her, shifting to the outwardly-sweet smile.  "Look at the last three years, girl.  It does me no good to have a daughter actively plotting against me.  And I like this Yuan-wei.  She's smart in certain areas, but not hugely ambitious.  She's practical.  We can work together when need be, and I think we can ignore each other most of the rest of the time.  And while it's important she remember that, while she may have gained her life by chance but has it now because I think she should, it's also important she find it rewarding.

"Now send that text, honey."

I nervously got out the phone.  Max put his hand on my wrist.  "Jordan, don't let her--"

I took the phone with my other hand and started sketching characters.  "Better her than Carlotta and Giorgia.  Besides, is not like I was going to fucking marry the first guy I seriously dated, and I'm probably going to be looking for visual effects jobs in Hollywood this time next year anyway.  Think he's leaving Hong Kong and his family, even for a piece of ass this hot?  Might as well get it fucking over with!"  I held the phone up in front of Chen-ai.  "Good enough?"

She nodded.  "That will do."  I brought the phone back down and tapped send.  "Fuck you, 'mom'."

"I know you're upset now, but trust me, he would not have been right for you.  You're destined for more."  She placed her tablet in her purse and slung it over her shoulder.  "Now, seeing as I'm not in this time zone very often, I think I should fly to Manhattan and do some shopping.  I'd invite you along, but I'm sure you've got a fair amount of back-to-school things you suddenly find you have to do."  She opened the door and waved.  "Have a great year!"

Max interrupted.  "Wait - there's still one thing you haven't said.  Yuan-wei's father--"  He couldn't actually say the words.

"It would hardly make sense for Carlotta killing him to be my plan, would it?  Besides, despite his not realizing he was married to an impostor for two years, I never stopped caring for him any more than I stopped caring for Giorgia and Carlotta.  Really, you shouldn't think too much about this.  That all being a horrible accident makes the most sense."

She smiled and shut the door behind her.

We collapsed on the bed as soon as she was gone.  Staring up at the ceiling, Annette asked if it was weird that she was really happy for us.

"Yeah," I said, "but it will be less weird with alcohol.  Let's get out of this fucking place and let Max buy us some of the good stuff while he still won't get carded."

There was no argument there.

-Jordo/"Missy"/Yuan-wei  (still)

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Jordan/"Missy" Yuan-wei: Play-acting Part II : There

It's amazing how quickly the memory of long school breaks goes. It hasn't been that long since my first college graduation, but looking at the school calendar and seeing three whole weeks between the end of fall term and the start of spring term kind of blew my mind. I mean, sure, it's not all that time without any responsibilities for a lot of folks at school - they've got jobs and the like - but it still seems like an absurdly long amount of unscheduled time.

Of course, it wasn't completely mine. Even if I wasn't a little prepared for a change of scenery after that play and finals, it was probably past time to really get to know "my" family and friends. The only ones who really made an impression on me back in August and September were my mother Chen-ai and grandmother Yu-ling, with everything else kind of a jet-lagged blur.

This time would be different, sort of like meeting people that one has become friends with online in person for the first time. It was literally that in a lot of cases for me, or very close to it, considering how many words I might have exchanged with people at the birthday party. I've been keeping up with most of Yuan-wei's old friends on-line and spent a lot of time digging deep into their online histories in my last week at Boston University before break - it was actually kind of a good way to take a break from studying for a certain subject but not totally putting my brain into another gear - and felt pretty good about it.

And with reason! Without "must get to party right fucking now!" going on, and just being generally more relaxed in this less-unfamiliar skin, I was able to panic less and just deal with situations at my own speed. It was still weird shifting into Cantonese-mode - binge-watching John Woo movies on the flights only helped so much - but I wasn't a complete deer in the headlights. I'm doing better with Mandarin, too - weekly classes and new movies from Beijing playing in Boston have helped.

I could sort of feel how it had grown easier as certain parts of the trip repeated - get off the plane, not strain so much listening to announcements, smile and maybe even flirt a little going through immigration, recognize the driver and engage in more authentic small talk on the way "home". There's something really assuring about the second time through; "they're gonna catch me" is still in the back of your head, but you can tell that voice to shut up, because the Inn doesn't work that way.

The fancy parts of the city looked fucking amazing as I rode by; though there are a fair number of foreigners and Christians there, Christmas blends into winter solstice celebrations and nobody gets too worked up about religious authenticity or whether things are too commercial, so decorations can be ridiculous and ostentatious and nobody cares. "My" family home had a monster-sized tree, and it was decorated with the careful balance and symmetry that says someone was hired to do it, but, hey, it's not like I need to be worried about some lost family tradition.

Chen-ai seemed a bit warmer this time around, although it's still kind of a weird relationship, maybe. Only having a brother, I don't know what sort of things mothers and daughters do together, but she seemed more curious about my life in America than anything, asking if I'd met any nice boys, being kind of teasingly naughty about how attractive they were. Maybe I should have been grossed out, but I wasn't, at least no more than when when I thought about how much I enjoyed being on the receiving end these days.

Not that I really get attracted to guys yet - I met one of the original Yuan-wei's high school boyfriends, and I liked the guy for hanging out with, but his twin sister was the one where my brain said ''that's attractive", though not with the "I want to fuck her" kick to it. which is good, because Bingbing is one of the best friends I inherited, and I'm guessing she wouldn't be down for that.

I wound up spending a lot of time with Chen Bingbing, both because she thinks we've been besties since the age of six and because she is transferring to an American college for this semester and wanted to practice her English. It's really good - she and Yuan-wei, along with the other friends I spent time hanging out with, went to English-language schools, although their good English isn't my good English.

We partied a lot - Bingbing seemed kind of horrified to hear that most places in America have a minimum drinking age of 21, so we kind of made up for that in advance. I highly recommend a weekend in Macau at one of the big hotel/casino luxury suites if you're ever young, Chinese, and of means.

That would have been a great New Year's Eve, but I felt a bit weird about partying big that night. We'd had a ceremony to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the death of Lee Siu-wong, Chen-ai's husband, who I guess would be my biological father now, the previous night, and it would have been weird to go nuts the next day.

That memorial was a bit strange, one of the times I really tried to act outside of school stuff. I mostly try to just be myself in day-to-day life, because even if I'm not much like the original Yuan-wei in certain respects, folks are going to have to get used to the new me because I'm not going to spend the rest of my life pretending to like things I don't or shit like that. This, though, was really specific and unavoidable, and as much as I don't really miss "Daddy", I don't think I'm quite such a jackass to disrupt things by acting that way.

So I tried to do what they teach in class, reaching into myself for something that brings out the same kind of feelings. I don't know whether I'd say it was hard or easy, because I spend enough time trying not to think about how I'm not likely to see my own Dad again except by some sort of co-incidence where he won't fucking know who I am that it takes a bit of effort to let that out, even without considering how much it's going to hurt. I guess I did all right - I was crying as I lit the joss-sticks and bowed toward Siu-Wong's picture - but it did make me question the idea of making a living doing this, even if the movie-star part looks awesome.

And then... well, fuck, it's why I took a break from writing this for a bit.

It was a few days later. I had stayed the night at one of Yuan-wei's high- school boy-friends' when I got a call asking me to come down to the police station. I had no idea what to expect - had Chen-ai been pulled over or had I inherited parking tickets of some kind? - until they took me to see a detective named Yee who made a little small-talk and then showed me a video.

It was taken on a phone - I've apparently been taking enough film & television classes that the vertical aspect ratio was the first thing that bothered me - and it showed the original Yuan-wei (or me, as far as the cops were concerned) going into some sort of sweet shop and telling the other person (the voice was distorted enough that I couldn't tell if it was male or female) all about the sort of candies and stuff they had in America that this store imported. At first, it was just weird - I kind of felt like a guy again, watching some girl who would never actually talk to me be knowingly cute in a YouTube video, and I kept having to remind myself that I shouldn't feel angry or turned on because I could do all that now.

Until she got to the Fluff.

Marshmallow Fluff is a pretty solidly northeastern thing. I think. It's what it sounds like, a gooey marshmallow paste that you can spread on bread. The Yuan-Wei in the video was talking about how one of her local classmates had dragged her to Somerville's ''Fluff Festival" in the fall, and the most popular use of the stuff was the "Fluffernutter", a dead simple sandwich of Fluff and peanut butter on white bread. She was saying that it's the most bland-but-too-sweet and thus the most American thing you can imagine - "but so good!"

Then the off-screen voice said that was too bad, because it meant I couldn't have one in the house because of my dad, and "I" joked that at least he would die happy. Then the Yuan-wei on the screen bought a jar of the stuff and some Reese's Cups which she said she would have to finish before she got home, and it was the end of the video.

I didn't really need Inspector Yee to do the "obviously, you knew that your father had a severe peanut allergy" exposition straight out of a fucking episode of Law & Order to see what was coming. And let me tell you, I didn't need to draw on any other sort of scary experience to be terrified.

"Inspector Yee, I would never-" I actually found myself stumbling for the right Cantonese words for what I would never do, but he seemed to be able to infer it.

"Not even by accident, just forgetting something was in your purse?"

I yelled "no!", but then something started rolling around in my brain. What if this was the wrong answer, and Yee was asking the question just so that I'd trip up?  Cops do that, right? What if anything I said contradicted anything else they had learned, or even what Yuan-wei had said during any original investigation of Siu-wong's death?

So I went on the offensive. "Who sent you this?"

"Don't you remember?"

I was able to think quick. "No! I hung out with a lot of folks after coming back from my first semester abroad last year, and probably showed weird American things to most of them!"

I guess you could say I successfully sold the performance, because Inspector Yee did back off a bit. I pressed a little, saying that the only reason that somebody would send them this is because they wanted to hurt me, and I deserve to know who is trying to stab me in the back.

The law doesn't exactly look at it this way, of course, and even though the family I've become a part of is pretty well-off, it doesn't appear that we're quite so connected that the cops' first thought when things look suspicious is to try to sweep it under the rug.

Or maybe it is and I just haven't learned how to pick up signals that a public official is fishing for a bribe like I can recognize a guy being interested in me.  There's a fucking one-percenter problem.

It put a bit of a pall over the rest of the trip, as you might imagine, as my brain went into overdrive looking for any sign that the people I hung out with didn't really like "me". I felt a little relief when I saw Bingbing hold her phone horizontally when taking a video a few days later, but worried about Chin when she didn't. It's a really stupid thing to try to parse, but there you go.

I'm not even really sure I should be writing about this now.  I denied having anything to do with Siu-wong's death, but I can't help but wonder - what if that's not the case?  What if the original Yuan-wei made a mistake and that's why she's so willing to live out a life that is such a step down from all this?  I may just be speculating about this, but if Inspector Yee or someone else at the HKPD stumbles over me saying that, it reads like some sort of confession from a girl who has had some sort of fucking breakdown.

Still...  The video.  I went to The Changeling a few days ago and mentioned this to Ashlyn, and she told me about her own stalker/"influencer", the one they called Pygmalion.  She says it's been a few years since she felt she could chalk up anything happening in her life to that, but that he isn't the only one out there who likes fucking with us.  So this is just a question - does it sound like anybody any of you know, or do I just have some sort of enemy on the other side of the world?

- Jordo / Yuan-wei