Fox Spirit 62 – Meetings and Departures

Storm was squatting, Chinese style, folded up so that his head was barely higher than Richie’s, murmuring to the toddler in his dark gentle voice. Richie was watching, wide-eyed, with two fingers in his mouth, as Storm’s long fingers played with a bright coin, making it appear and disappear, spin into the air  to be caught again.

            Sara’s elbow bumped the cubicle wall; Storm turned, saw her and rose from his crouch. Richie broke into a wail, “Uppa! Uppa!” reaching out his arms. Storm swept him up from the floor without apparent effort and turned to face Sara and Mark with a smile. “You see…we are already good friends.”

            Sara’s eyes answered his smile, though her voice was carefully neutral. “I see that. Let me introduce you. This is Richie; Richie this is Cheng Bofu – Uncle Cheng.”

            Richie’s hand was gripping Storm’s dark hair. He giggled and buried his face in Storm’s shoulder, then lifted his head and began to squirm, holding out his arms toward his grandmother. “Ah, you are a wiggling snake boy.” Storm passed Richie to Sara and looked inquiringly at Mark.

            “Mark, this is Cheng Bao Feng – Storm – our Sales Manager.” As they shook hands, she saw her two worlds collide. Mark was all fresh-faced muscular American exuberance, while  Storm, with his slender frame, shock of raven black hair, high cheekbones and air of reserve, had never looked so exotic.

            “Uppa! Uppa!” Richie demanded again. Sara passed him to Mark, who scooped him up and perched him on his shoulders. “There. You’ll be out of the way now. Nice to meet you, Mr. Cheng. Looks like everyone here has been taking good care of my mom.”

            “It is she who has been taking care of us. So many details she takes care of,” interjected Jerry Wang. “Shall we go to lunch now?  Then I think you’re meant to go to the Children’s Palace with Manager Li and Richie? And maybe tomorrow you will be in the office again, Sara? We hadn’t realized how much you do until you weren’t here to do it.”

            “How long will you be visiting, Mr. Mark?”  Storm’s question was for Mark, but his eyes sought Sara’s. She responded on Mark’s behalf – “He will be leaving very soon – Saturday. There are legal issues in California.” 

            “Ah, then perhaps I won’t see you again, Mr. Mark. Travel well, then. Duibuqi, I have a meeting, must go.”   He vanished before Sara could do more than return his look.

            Scarlet Li had prepared well on Sara’s and Richie’s behalf. A brief negotiation saw Richie added to the enrollment at the Children’s Palace. The young teacher Peach Wu who cared for the youngest children in the pre-kindergarten was charmed immediately. “Riqi… You know in Chinese it means ‘sun spirit’. A very good name.”

            “Yes, that was just lucky. There was no thought of his having a Chinese name when he was born.”

            “Maybe he has a lucky fate – being born lucky is better than being born rich or beautiful. It lasts longer, maybe.”

            Sara looked at Peach Wu in surprise. “In America we think luck isn’t lasting at all. Maybe only having good brains is a lasting gift.”

            Teacher Wu smiled. “You may be right. We’ll see what we can do with Riqi’s brains, then.” She took Richie’s hand and led him to the picture book table. Sara felt a pang as he left – he did not even look back at her. But two year olds haven’t learned yet to be afraid of new things. It was a good time for this change, at least for Richie.

            For the first time, Sara went with Scarlet Li to the Beijing Capital Airport to see someone off, rather than taking a flight herself. Richie had been left with Silver Wing, so the farewells went quickly as Scarlet idled her car at the drop-off curb.

            Mark leaned over to give Sara a forceful hug before picking up his suitcase. “I wish you could come and be with me in court, Mom.”

            “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure Kurt Bentley will handle everything well – and with Richie out of the country, the Cavallos won’t be able to do anything underhanded. As Richie’s father you have the right to give me temporary guardianship. I’m sure it will all end well.”

            “As long as the Cavallos don’t hire some Mafia hit man to have me knee-capped.” 

            “Not funny. You’ll be fine in court.”

            “Ok, but what happens afterward?  How long will Richie have to stay in China, do you think?  I’m already starting to miss him…”

            “We’ll talk about that later, after the custody suit is settled. Just focus on that for now. It will work out – trust me.”

            “I‘ve always trusted you, Mom.  Just, take good care of him. And of yourself too. All of a sudden everyone I care about most will be so far away…”

            Sara refused to let tears come. “You saw how everyone from the office and the school came together to help us. Be easy – now get on that plane.”  Mark engulfed her with another long hug and then passed through the security gate beyond her view. Sara hurried back to Scarlet’s waiting car, Mark’s parting words echoing in her mind. But as they drove through the crowded streets Sara was already planning Richie’s first weekend in China.

November 1999

Silver Wing

            Silver Wing lay in bed, listening to her husband’s quiet breathing next to her, thinking about Richie – his eyes such a warm brown, not the flat black of Chinese eyes. His eye lashes curling outward like the eaves of a temple, not straight down like brushes. His eyelids so oddly folded. His hair so bright – brown, but gilded by the sun. His skin like a peach. Nothing like his grandmother, with her dark-copper hair and skin white as a courtesan in old pictures. The man she had met, Richie’s father, had the same eyes. She wondered about the dead mother – what did she give to her son? Was she like Sara? Or maybe shorter, darker haired.

            Silver Wing imagined her arm next to Richie’s, holding Richie. She sighed, turned on her side and realized that her husband’s eyes were on her. Embarrassed, she reached out and pulled him to her, hiding her face. His response was immediate, his hands moving down her side, lips murmuring against her neck. Silver Wing stiffened, then sighed and relaxed against him. He had been patient with her and it had been a long time since she had welcomed him.

Sara

            Sara woke at the sound of Richie’s crying. She stumbled from the bed, picked up her red night lamp, lit her way to the crib side. He was asleep, but still crying, contorted into a tight ball, cheeks gleaming with tears. Was he feverish?  Stomach pain? Indigestion? No sign of vomit on the sheet, forehead cool to the touch. She set the light down and reached to comfort him. He went rigid at her touch, began to thrash. “No!  No! Mama! Mama!” He fought against her, still sleeping, yet fighting her.

            Sara picked him up, pinned his thrashing arms against her chest and called his name. “Richie!  Richie!  It’s Grandma. Wake up!” His spine stiffened; he bent backward trying to escape her. “Richie, it’s ok!  Wake up – you’re dreaming” He sobbed wildly, then suddenly collapsed in her arms.

            “Mama! Mama!” Little by little his sobs slackened, he cuddled against her, one hand grasping at her breast. He slid into sleep. Sara sat with him, not moving, staring into the darkness.

Mark

            An ocean away, the house was quiet in mid-morning light. Mark set down his suitcase in the hallway. Since Rennie’s death he had had no time to notice the emptiness. Now he moved from room to room noting the vacancy where Rennie’s coffee cup should have been – the one she would always leave on the counter before scooping Richie up to take him to the Tiny Tot Lot. The empty hooks on the coat rack. Rennie had been wearing a hat and jacket on the day she died. He wondered what had become of them. At the morgue the attendants had given him Rennie’s purse, her wallet intact, her rings, a few other things from the car, but no clothing.

            In the kitchen Richie’s high chair had been pushed into the corner. Everything had been tidied here before the flight to Beijing. The refrigerator, crammed with casseroles from friends and neighbors after the accident, was almost bare. A jar of mayonnaise, some jam, a jar of marinara sauce.

            Richie’s room had been stripped. The dresser drawers were a little ajar, contents swept into suitcases without sorting or review. The sheets were gone from the crib, along with Richie’s green bear that Aunt Carol had made for him. Mark had forgotten the pattern of dancing elephants on the crib mattress. It smelled faintly of talcum powder, baby shampoo, and a trace of urine.  In the corner lay a stuffed elephant, left behind, not one of Richie’s favorites. Mark picked it up and held it close. He still held it as he turned to the other bedroom.

            Nothing much had changed, except the overwhelming not-thereness of Rennie. The quilt she had made was still on the bed. Her closet door was closed; he couldn’t face opening her closet. Lotion and eye-shadow still in the bathroom. The smell of moisturizer, bath oil. The candles by the bathtub. The memory of her lying in the bathtub with the candles lit. The memory of her lying on the table at the morgue. Her hair dryer. Her hair spreading out from under the sheet at the morgue. They hadn’t let him see her face, but it was her long, dark hair that he had known at first glimpse. The gentle waves of her hair. The way it had rippled around her shoulders when she hurried out the door with Richie that last morning. She was always running late. If she hadn’t been late that afternoon. If he had picked up Richie from daycare instead. He sat down on the toilet seat clutching the elephant and began to sob.

Fox Spirit 61 – Flight

“Jerry, you need to understand what’s happening.”  Sara unconsciously slipped back into their earlier informality as she outlined the situation to her boss on the phone. Jerry Wang also forgot his reserve in response to her urgent tone.

            “Of course,” he said, his voice admitting no argument. “The son belongs with the father’s family. In Chinese history and legend, the Old Empress always controls the prince.” Sara had to laugh at the sudden vision of herself as a Dowager Empress whispering commands from behind a screen. Laughter felt good.

            Then she called Storm to outline her plan. His reaction was quite different.

            “I don’t understand, really. What is different, their taking your grandson from his father and hiding him away, and you taking him and bringing him to China?  He is their grandson also…”

            The tension of the week had been hard on Sara’s self-control. With Storm’s objection all her own doubt and fear broke out as anger.

            “What do you know about being a parent?  Don’t talk about what you can’t understand!  He’s my son’s son!  I’m taking him for his father, to bring him up like his father’s people!  You, a Chinese, should understand this!  And they’re trying to steal him, not even speaking to his father. They can’t be trusted!”

                        Sara realized how shocking her raw emotion must be to Storm. She struggled to regain control. “Please, Storm, hen dui bu qi. I’m sorry for losing my temper. This is hard for me. It’s my family. It’s important.” She stumbled over the words, groping to find some formula which could contain and explain her emotion.

            Storm spoke slowly, as if thinking aloud. “I think I see… in China we want a son to continue the family name, and also he must be raised in agreement with the family tradition. If the father is an educated man, the son must also be educated. If the father has a special kind of work, the son will follow in this work. You are perhaps more Chinese in this way than I’m myself.”

            Sara fought to speak calmly. “It isn’t about following a tradition of work – we are talking about a toddler! He’s only two years old – he can’t choose now what life to lead. But he’ll be taught by the people he lives with to believe one thing or another. I won’t have my grandson told lies about his father, about who he is!  I won’t give up this boy to another family to raise!” She stopped suddenly, remembering what Storm’s parents had done.

            Storm’s response came slowly. “As you say, I haven’t been a parent. But I’ve been the child caught between two families. I think most Chinese would agree – the mother’s family is always the wairen, the outsiders. But this isn’t a problem for logic.” 

            “Then maybe for this time you can be a little more Chinese?” Sara insisted. “I’ll need your help, I think, if our plan succeeds.”

            Storm’s voice was quiet. “You know that I’ll help you if you need it. Whether you are right or wrong, I’ll help you.”

            His assurance gave Sara the calm she had lost. “Thank you, Storm. I think I’m right, for now. If later I’m wrong, I’ll let you know. Now let’s plan…”

            Flight. Sara turned the word around in her mind. Flight equals flying, as in hopes taking flight, flight schedule, birds in flight. They were certainly doing that, the three of them side by side in the 747’s center seats, Richie wriggling, questioning, whimpering, giggling and finally dropping into sleep; Sara cajoling, consoling, lulling with songs and now drowsing, remembering how her Chinese had made visas so much easier at the Chinese embassy, thankful that only a small payment was required to add Richie to her passport as her under-age ward. Mark was asleep in the window seat, still gripping the portfolio of papers which would open the next door. They were definitely in flight.

            Flight. Flight equals fleeing, as in taking flight from peril, “flying from a sea of troubles.” Somehow the word held an undertone of cowardice, of reluctance to face the menace, of weakness. What if Mark had insisted that Richie stay with him?  Could he have fended off the Cavallos, in the court and afterward?  Could he have guarded Richie against another abduction attempt?  Could he have succeeded as a single parent?  Should Sara have been so certain?  Should they have had an alternate plan?  Did Mark feel a secret relief at having someone else take over, take Richie off his hands?  “Fleeing from a sea of troubles;” yes, she was definitely in flight.

            She looked at Richie, asleep, curled up in the airline blanket, the crayon provided by the stewardess still clutched in one hand. Richie would be safe, cared for, doted on. But what would happen to Mark? She shoved that worry aside.

            Sara led the way out of the customs area and through the crowded terminal, Mark trailing behind his mother and his son, pushing the laden baggage cart. Sara remembered her first impression of the thick air, the chatter of reuniting families, the swirl of people and luggage descending to the subway, and the waving flags of the tour guides as they herded tourists to waiting buses. She turned to reassure her son, then waved as Jerry Wang’s car pulled to a stop out of the whirl of traffic. Sara made introductions and then all three were bundled into the car with a flurry of comments from Jerry Wang about Richie’s travel equipment. Apparently no-one in China had ever used or seen a child’s car seat. Mark and Richie slept in the back seat, while in the front seat, Sara and Jerry Wang talked in low voices as he maneuvered through traffic.

            “Silver Wing has found a crib and other baby things for you to use – they are all waiting for you at your apartment.”

            “So kind of her. So kind of you, too, to come to pick us up. I have troubled you too much.”

            “Don’t be so polite. We are friends. Silver Wing is so excited about your grandson’s coming, as if he were her own baby.”

            ”She’s very generous and Scarlet Li also – so many preparations!”

            “Yes. Manager Li is a fine one to organize.”  They chatted about the different people who had helped to prepare for Richie’s coming, about the trip, about things to be done when Sara returned to the office. “Manager Cheng has been traveling in Suzhou. He will return to the office tomorrow. He’s found some good business for us there, I think.”

            Sara had scarcely had time to think of Storm since their one conversation. There had been so much to arrange, so much tension involved in spiriting Richie away, so many family concerns to manage. The mention of Storm’s name brought his image into her mind with such force that she caught her breath.

            Jerry Wang shot a sidewise glance at her. “Are you all right?”

            “Yes, just thinking about all the things to be arranged.”  How would Storm fit into a life with Richie?  And what would Mark think of him when they met? How would such a meeting go? They were two different parts of her life that couldn’t fit together. She pushed the thought aside. Mark would not be here for long.

            Again, Silver Wing was waiting in Sara’s doorway, outlined by the light behind. Sara ushered Mark and Richie into the apartment, which suddenly seemed much smaller. Scarlet Li and Silver Wing had set up a small crib in a corner of the living room/kitchen, sheltered behind a folding screen. Extra bedding on the sofa was on loan during Mark’s stay. Milk and fruit filled the small refrigerator Wa, bread and cereal was fresh in the cupboard. A collapsible stroller was parked in the entry next to Sara’s bicycle, which had been fitted with a very basic child seat.

            “Silver Wing, thank you again. You and Scarlet Li have done so much….”

            “It’s nothing. He is your grandson. He must be cared for. This is the Chinese way, no question.” Silver Wing reached out a slender hand and gently stroked Richie’s sleeping head. “He is so beautiful.”

            Jerry Wang moved beside Silver Wing and took her hand. “We’ll go now. These travelers need to sleep. Manager Miller, perhaps tomorrow you can bring Mark and Richie to the office so that everyone can see the son and grandchild of whom we have heard so much?  And Manager Li needs your help with arrangements so that Richie can attend the Children’s Palace.”

            “Of course. I’ll bring Mark and Richie just before lunch time, all right?  That won’t disrupt the office too much, I hope?”

            “Everyone will be very glad to see you return and to meet your family. We’ve missed you, Manager Miller. But now we will go, so that you and your family can sleep.” 

            Sara stood at the door watching as Jerry and Silver Wing drove off. So much kindness!  Then she turned to the urgent business of settling her family for the night.

            “So, here’s my office.”  Sara unfastened Richie’s stroller harness and set him upright on the floor, then rose to introduce Mark and Richie to Jade Wang.  

            “Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”  She led Mark and Richie from the spotless, orderly front lobby past the cubicles with their standard furniture and tangled power cords and into the littered engineering lab.

            As the engineers bowed their introductions, Sara suddenly realized that Richie had vanished.  She hurried back to her cubicle and stopped short on the threshold.

            Storm Cheng was there.

Fox Spirit 60 – Battle is Joined

That evening the tension of the day coupled with the delayed jet lag of her long flight caught up with Sara. She woke the next morning only when Richie climbed onto the bed in the spare room to ask, “Gam-ma, you s’eep?”  She reached around Richie to bring him closer and felt a fierce surge of protectiveness as he snuggled close.

            An hour later, with Richie still snuffling in his sleep, Sara got up to make coffee and look for breakfast. Mark appeared at the door of the kitchen and slumped into a chair, accepting the cup Sara handed him with a grateful look. “God!” he said, staring at the table. “It’s hard to sleep in an empty bed!  How did you manage it after Dad died?”

            Sara remembered when John had been moved to a hospital bed in what had been their guest bedroom. For the next year, she still had slept on her same side of the bed, still found herself reaching out to touch John next to her, still listened for his breathing to lull her to sleep. She touched Mark’s shoulder. “It was hard. We had shared so much in that bed.”

            Sara sat down at the table and Mark reached out to cover her hand with his. “Us too. Even when we fought, whatever we fought about just melted under the sheets. Everything would be better by morning, except when she went to her Mom’s and didn’t come back ‘til the next day.”  He stopped abruptly.

            “I guessed you were having some problems,” Sara said. “When she wasn’t there to talk on the phone…”

            “Yeah, I didn’t want to bother you with it.” Mark got up and poured himself another cup of coffee, as if to end the conversation. He sighed and came back to the table.

            “I don’t know what all she told her mom when we fought, but whatever it was Ynez believed it and added to it, I swear. Then when Rennie came home she’d still be angry, still pumped up by whatever her mom had said.  I learned if Rennie hadn’t come home, I’d better get off to work before she showed up again. If she didn’t see me until after work ….”  He stopped again.

            “Tell me about the good times. You had good times, I know.”

            “Yeah, we did.  Before Richie was born we were so together. She was always doing little things to make me happy, planning little surprises.. And when she was pregnant with Richie it was great. She felt like she was queen of the world, in a good way. Like she could sow niceness and grow happiness. I know you and Dad were worried that she got pregnant so fast, but it was maybe our best time.”

            Sara moved her chair closer to Mark, nursing her own cup of coffee. “What happened after Richie came? Things changed? “

            “I guess it was hard on Rennie, being home with him. I thought with her being home she’d make friends with some other new moms, but that didn’t happen. So then she decided to go back to work. She wanted to buy a house.

            “You remember how happy she was when we bought this house?  The party we had, we invited everyone we knew to show it off. We didn’t have hardly any furniture but we were sure house proud. That was a good day too.”

            “Yes,” Sara said softly. “I remember. I was proud, too, that the two of you had managed the baby and could still buy a house all on your own.”

            “Yeah, well….”  Mark swirled a spoon in his coffee. “I guess we managed all right at first. But then I started to travel, and Rennie had to take care of everything on her own. She got a raise at work, and more to do, and leaving the office at 5 o’clock sharp got harder and harder. And by the time Richie was nearing two he was getting to know the difference between Mama and daycare. She felt pulled apart. And even in bed…” He stopped, took a deep breath, not looking at her.

            “A lot of couples…” Sara hesitated, then went on. “A lot of couple have a hard time with sex when there’s a baby. Especially the first one. All of a sudden there’s someone else in the house.”

            “That’s right,” Mark looked up, relief that she understood showing in his face. “She would ask me to bring him to our bed to nurse. At first it was wonderful to be all three of us so close and warm together, but sometimes I felt like our private place wasn’t ours any more. And I’d catch myself feeling jealous of Richie and then I’d feel like a rotten dad. But we had great times with him, Rennie and I. And sometimes when he was asleep it was like before and we had great times together.” And Mark began very quietly to sob.

            Somehow they got through Sunday, with Richie prowling around the house, looking in every room and asking “Where Mama doh?”, Mark looking on helplessly, Sara comforting and hugging and soothing wherever it was most needed. Then came Monday morning and a ring of the doorbell. Mark stood in the entryway, staring at a document which he had just removed from its large manila envelope. He turned to Sara, his expression caught between fury and panic.

            “Mom, the Cavallos are suing me for custody of Richie. Like I said, there is no way!  I swear, sooner than have Ynez and Giovanni Cavallo raise my kid, I’ll put him up for adoption!”

            Sara was stunned. “But that doesn’t make any sense!   How can they try to take Richie away from his own father, especially since he has no mother now? On what grounds?”

            “They say I’m an unfit parent, that Rennie was already planning on leaving me to escape… I don’t know what. I guess Rennie said a bunch of stuff to her Mom when she was angry with me, and her mom swallowed it all without a single grain of salt. I think… Ynez said something… they think maybe it wasn’t an accident, Rennie’s death. That I drove her to it.”

            “Mark, that is crazy. How could they think that?”

            “I don’t know what Rennie told her mom. All I know is, look at these papers. They’ve scheduled a hearing next week. Mom, what should I do?”

            Sara could hear the quaver in his voice. Suddenly, he was her child again and he needed her. All doubt as to the accuracy of Mark’s perception fell away. Outsiders threatened her family. The reaction was visceral. “Honey, you hold on. We’ll manage this between us.”

            Thoughts swirled through her mind: Richie’s small hand clinging to hers, the greedy eyes of Ynez Cavallo, Mark’s panic, the nursery attendant who had the good sense to call Mark rather than simply let Richie go with his grandparents. How could Richie be kept from them?  Where would he be safe? Then she saw it, clear and whole.   

            She outlined her plan briskly. “I think it will take a little time, but we can move faster than they can. The system isn’t going to be too friendly to grandparents trying a hostile takeover from a sole remaining parent.”

               “Mom, that’s crazy!  We can’t do that! YOU can’t do that!”

            “Yes we can!  What else can we do?  You’ve said yourself you can’t be working and looking after Richie. You can’t live looking over your shoulder all the time in case they snatch him!  Even if I gave up my work, came home, and became his granny nanny, then I’d be the one looking over my shoulder all the time. It’s not…” 

            “But he’s my son!”

            Sara forced her voice down, forced herself to sound calm.

            “Mark, it’s only for a short time, only until you get this legal hearing over with and you can make arrangements. We’ll be in touch all the time. Richie will be safe. It’s the best way.”

            She moved to sit next to Mark on the sofa and took his hand, reaching out to turn his chin so he would look at her.

            “Today is Monday. We have a week. We’ll go to Kurt Bentley. I know him from working together on some school committees. What he doesn’t know about family law wouldn’t fill a teacup.  We’ll get the papers drawn up and then let the Cavallos try what they can.”

            She straightened her spine. Let the battle lines be drawn.

Fox Spirit 59 – Frayed Family Ties

Sara thought it would be difficult to explain the emergency to Jerry Wang, but this was not so. Of course she should be with her son and grandson – no question!  Let Jade make the arrangements for you; she will call friends at the travel agency.

            Everything was arranged for Sara’s departure, as Sara was still half-numb from shock. She had not gotten on with Rennie, she had hated the willful childishness which Mark had found so charming at first, but she had never wished Rennie dead, only different. What would this death mean to Mark and Richie? 

            In another hour she was beginning to have a more accurate idea of what it might mean, an hour punctuated by a jangle of phone calls from Mark, each delivering late-breaking news. First came his recounting of Giovanni and Ynez Cavallo’s violent and abusive reaction to the death of their daughter. Then in the middle of the night, came news that the morgue had released Rennie’s body to a mortician hired by the Cavallos, the body and funeral arrangements commandeered out of Mark’s control.

            “The Cavallos told the morgue doctor that Rennie and I were divorced!  So they gave her over to them without even checking. Mom, wait until I find out where they took her. Uncle Jasper and Aunt Carol are coming over, so I’ll have some support. Just keep standing by.”

             Another panicked call came from Mark as Sara finished her morning coffee. “Mom!  They’re trying to take Richie!” He had received a call from Richie’s daycare, asking for confirmation that Richie was to go home with his grandfather.  “I told them no way, no one picks him up but me. But what if they snatch him?”

            “Stay cool, my kid,” Sara said, hoping for calm and a chance to think. “No one is thinking straight when something like this happens. Naturally they are going to want to see their lost daughter’s only child. But of course they’ll have to work with you.”

            “But they can’t have him!  He’s not theirs!  You know how they are – if they take him for a weekend they’ll keep him for a year, passing him from relative to relative like a basketball while I chase him from one house to the next. And they’ll tell him lies about me, about our family. I don’t want them to have any part of him.”

            “All right, Mark. Just try to keep a level head. Make sure the daycare people know not to…”

            “No worries about that, Mom,” Mark interrupted. “They have their instructions really clear. Anyway I’ll keep you posted.”

            By the time Sara got to the office Jade Wang had secured a bereavement rate and a seat for Sara on that evening’s red-eye flight through Tokyo. Sara quickly reviewed her draft outline with Trueheart and Scarlet and then hurried home to pack. And then, just before Scarlet Li picked Sara up to take her to the airport, came another call.

             “Mom, I’m glad I caught you. I decided not to fight about the funeral. The Cavallos have arranged a full Catholic mass for Saturday afternoon. But Ynez Cavallo wants Richie to come. After that day care thing I don’t trust her. What if they try to  snatch him?”

            Is he paranoid?  Is this a false alarm? But what if he’s right?  ”Honey, call your Uncle Jasper and ask him to come to the funeral with us. Make sure he’s wearing his uniform and don’t let anyone hold Richie but you or him. I don’t think there could really be a plan to snatch Richie, but a 6-foot-plus uniformed US Army colonel should be able to keep them at bay. We’ll see what happens.”

            Wednesday disappeared as Sara crossed back over the International Date Line. Almost sleepless on the plane, Sara sagged into Jasper’s welcoming hug at the LAX gate. He held her at arm’s length and decided she could use a second hug. That done, Jasper took Sara’s carry-on with one hand, settled the other arm around her shoulders and steered her to his waiting car.      “Glad to see you here so fast. Carol has been staying with Mark and Richie and I’m sure looking forward to having her back.”

            “How is Mark doing?”

            “Not so great. He’s got a lot on his plate. You’ll see.”

            The next day, Thursday, was a blur of jet lag, too much coffee and tending to both Richie and Mark. Richie attached himself to Sara like a lamprey. Mark was relieved as it left him free to pace, pound the table as he passed, and inveigh against the truck driver, the morgue, the Cavallos and the blindness of fate. “What was she thinking, trying to pass a big rig in her old Datsun?  I’d warned her about taking risks on the road. She just laughed at me. Mom, what am I going to do?  What is Richie going to do?  What if he gets sick?  If I have to travel?  I was barely figuring out how to be a daddy, I don’t know how to be a single dad!  What am I going to do, Mom?”

            “Let’s take one thing at a time, ok?  We have to get through the funeral. Is there any chance that Ynez could help with the child care? She doesn’t work except at home – maybe you could…

            Mark was staring at her, incredulous. “You must be kidding!  You’ve seen the way it’s been just these last two days.   Can you imagine me dealing with Ynez about Richie?  You don’t understand what it’s been like.”

            “Then tell me!”          

            The story gradually spooled out – the fraying of the marriage, the nights when Rennie took Richie to her mom’s house and decided to stay over; the increasingly frosty reception when Mark was there. “I know you think I’m paranoid when I talk about them trying to snatch Richie, but you haven’t been here for the last six months, Mom. They look at me as if I were a wife beater. God know what Rennie has said to her folks. You know when she loses her temper she’ll say whatever hurts the most, and she’s certainly said a lot to me that I won’t be able to forget. Whoever said “words will never hurt me” was never on the receiving end of a poison tongue like Rennie’s. And yet, you know, Mom, she could be so charming, so much fun. And then something would turn…”

            The funeral passed like a series of snapshots in Sara’s mind.  Her dark blue dress for the funeral, her stern-faced brother Jasper holding Richie in his arms, Ynez Cavallo’s face when she saw Sara, blood surging to her face, brows coming together like iron gates clanging shut. And then the onslaught of Cavallos wanting to hold Richie, wanting to take him up to say goodbye to his mother. Sara felt sick. Was it the reek of incense, or her jet lag, or the thought of making a child view his dead mother’s body? “Hold onto Richie, Jasper,” she muttered to her brother. “Hold on real tight.” 

            After the funeral mass the Cavallos were like twining vines, all edging closer to Richie and Uncle Jasper, all cooing and reaching out:  

            ‘Isn’t Richie tired? Shouldn’t I take him outside for air?’ 

            ‘Richie, don’t you want to come to Grandma Ynez?’

            Mark wasn’t being paranoid. Sara was sure any one of the Cavallo family would be ready to bolt with her grandson if they got the chance. Fortunately Richie loved being carried high by Uncle Jasper and never tired of examining his medals and ribbons. Sara sighed with relief when the reception was over.

            “Mark, I know you and I have to go to the grave for the burial. But let’s send Richie home with Jasper – there’s no need for him to go and I’ll feel better if he’s out of range of all this.” She waved vaguely at the encircling in-laws. Mark’s face lit with relief. “I don’t want Richie there, but I was afraid you were going to take him home and leave me alone at Rennie’s grave with all her family glaring at me from the other side of the hole.” 

            “Nonsense,” replied Sara, taking his arm with a twinge of guilt. Not that I wouldn’t have liked to. She saw Ynez approaching and put on a rueful smile.

            “You were right, Ynez. Richie is getting tired, so he’s going home with his uncle.  We don’t think he needs to be at the burial. It might give him bad dreams, I think.”  She kept smiling through Ynez’s protests. Don’t let the mask slip.

Fox Spirit 58 – Another Fateful Phone Call

November 1999

Sara

            Jerry Wang had called a business meeting on short notice. The challenge was the Internet. How could Rainbow Software take advantage of the burst of interest in interactive information and entertainment on the web? In Korea interactive games had become an obsession. Could this be turned to advantage in the Chinese market?  Could this be a new direction for the company?

            “Our investors are nervous. Will this new technology replace the game machines, the computers?  Is this a threat, or an opportunity?” Wang’s eyes searched the room, making each person responsible for an answer. “What’s our plan?”

            Chief Engineer Light Wave Shi was excited by the prospect of new technology to learn about and implement. Trueheart Zhang was worried about the financial impact of diverting resources to the new project. Scarlet Li wondered whether the office network could handle internet-based games without a major upgrade. Storm Cheng was eager to explore a new sales channel, while Sara was unsure whether the Korean revenue model could be made to work in China. Finally Wang summarized the conclusions and turned to Sara.

            “So, Manager Miller, will you write the first draft of our plan? You can give us bullet points, yes? Some alternatives?  I’d like to see this by end of day tomorrow.” Sara smiled her acceptance of the task and gathered her notes, pleased to be entrusted with drafting the new strategy, even if it was only a straw man to be shot down.  It was another chance to prove her continuing worth, even to cement her role if the company took a new direction based on her outline.

            “Dan shi. Of course. I’ll have a draft ready by tomorrow.”

            Back in her cubicle, Sara quickly put together an outline, then began filling it in with alternate scenarios and questions. If she worked steadily she could have a fairly respectable discussion document done within the day. She settled in, imagining the enterprise complete and thriving, then describing what it looked like and “remembering” the stages and steps it took to get to this pinnacle. She was deep into a description of personnel requirements when the phone at her elbow broke into her thoughts with its insistent shrill. “Drat,”she thought. “I should have told Jade to hold calls.” She picked up the phone and said brusquely “Wei?”

            “Mom?  It’s Mark.” Sara almost dropped the phone in her surprise. Mark never called except for their ritual weekend exchange.

            “Hello, sweet!  What a pleasure…”

            “Mom, it’s about Rennie. Something bad happened.”

            Thoughts of accident, kidnapping, assault, chased each other through Sara’s mind.

            “She’s dead, Mom. She’s dead.”

             Rennie had been on the freeway. She was late to pick up Richie from daycare. She tried to pass an 18-wheeler and got stuck in his blind spot. The truck had moved over to get around a slow-moving pickup and had knocked her into the center divider. The car was crushed.

            Mark’s first hint of something wrong had been when the daycare center called to find out why Rennie had not come for Richie. Penalty payments started at 5:30; Rennie hated to pay them. Mark had tried calling Rennie’s cell phone and somebody who was working on clearing the wreck heard it ring and picked up. An ambulance had already taken Rennie away. Mark called the police to find out what hospital Rennie had been taken to. They tried to break the news gently. She was at the morgue and Mark was told to come down to ID the body.

      

“Mom, it was awful. They had her under a sheet and just uncovered a little bit of her face for me to see. I knew her hair and one eye looking at me, but they wouldn’t let me see any more. I wanted to take her wedding ring off, but they wouldn’t let me lift the sheet to look for it. They said they would get it for me. Mom, I think she was…” Mark’s voice had been getting higher and thinner and now it cracked. Sara listened in horror as he broke into sobs.

            “Mark, stop!  You don’t have to tell me any more. Have you got Richie now?”

            “Yes. He’s ok. You can hear him, can’t you?”  There was an anguished wailing in the background.

            “He doesn’t sound ok.”

            “He’s getting spooked because Rennie’s not here and I’m falling apart on him. Mom, will you come home?  I don’t know what I’m going to do about a funeral and all that stuff. I don’t know how to deal with her folks. You know they’ll go all emotional and I’m afraid I’ll fall apart.”

            “Oh, darling.” The thought of her new assignment, her product scenario, flashed through her mind, to vanish instantly. “Of course I can come. I’ll be on a  plane as soon as I can. I’ll let you know when I have a flight . Have you called Jasper?  Have you called the Cavallos?

            “No to both. I had to call you first. I just feel better knowing you’ll be with me, you know. I guess I’ll call Jasper first and then the Cavallos. I don’t know how I’m going to break it to the Cavallos. For Ynez the sun rose and set in Rennie’s eyes. And you know they’ll blame me for it somehow, like if I made more money she could have been a stay-at-home mom and she wouldn’t have been driving. I don’t suppose … no. I have to do it.”

            “I’ll call you back in an hour after I’ve checked flights, ok?  You call Uncle Jasper and Aunt Carol next. You need to have someone with you, Mark. You can ask Aunt Carol to check with the morgue and find out what you need to do about contacting a funeral home or whatever. Maybe her family will want a funeral mass?

            “Good grief. I have no clue. My brain’s not working. Look, I’ve got to go take care of Richie. Call me when you’ve got a flight. I love you, Mom.”

             The phone clicked off, leaving Sara to stare blankly at her computer monitor, the dead phone in her hand. Her mind replayed Mark’s description of Rennie’s mangled body under the sheet, Richie’s wails, Mark’s near-hysteria. Sara struggled to think what needed to be done first. She felt a soft tap on her shoulder. Scarlet Li was there, with a steaming cup of tea. Sara realized that Scarlet in the next cubicle must have heard everything. “This will help you,” she murmured. Another light touch and she was gone.

Fox Spirit 57 – Love Prevents, Love Sustains

Sara moved to intercept Storm’s stride, blocked his circular route with her body and breaking the rising rhythm of his anger.

            “Stop.” She moved against him, running her hands along his arms, then down his ribs toward his waist. He stepped aside, tried to go around her, but Sara moved with him, touching him as boldly as she could.

            “What are you doing?  This is no time for play, while my friend is who-knows-where, suffering who-knows-what.  I’ve heard stories. There’s no time to waste. I only came to tell you…” Her hand was on his mouth, the other moved slowly down to his belly and lower between his legs.

            “Hush.” She was nearly as tall as he and nearly matched his weight; he couldn’t escape from her. Her voice was low and intense. “What will you do with all this anger, this frustration?  You’re like a sparking torch. You will burn and destroy and then crumble to ash, with nothing to show but black destruction.”

            “So!” he hissed. “You would keep me here, until my anger is gone. And then what?”

            “Exactly!”  She snapped the word out like a whiplash. “When your anger is gone, then your mind will be clear.”

            He grunted impatiently and tried to move past her, but again she blocked him.

            “What will you do?  Pound on a door?  Shout from a window? Even throw a rock at an official car?  And then what? You may find Liu, in the cell next to yours!  What will you get from that?”

            Her hands were still busy, touching, stroking, pulling at his shirt. There was no hint of play in their lovemaking this time. Sara felt her body was her only weapon against the anger that could destroy him – she set herself to take it in, take in his energy, his frustration, his frenzy, until there would be nothing left to drive him into danger. This night she used all she had learned about what pleased him, what triggered his desire, making sure there was nothing left. Her triumph was in his return to calm, to reason, to thought. He lay in her bed semi-conscious, barely moving, his fingers tangled in her hair, every muscle limp, relaxed, exhausted. She waited until her own heart calmed, withdrew her hands from his body and let him sleep.

 

            Two nights later, Storm, Sara, Trueheart Zhang and Jade Wang arrived separately at the Jiu Jin Shan Wine Bar and sat together silent in their corner booth. Beer arrived. The television blared soccer. Behind them the crowd groaned as the Chinese goalie let a third goal score. No one in the booth spoke. It seemed as though months, not weeks had passed since the National Day celebration.

            Jade’s eyes were red-rimmed. Sara reached for Jade’s hand and then pulled back, remembering the Chinese reluctance to touch in public. She didn’t know what to do with herself – her hands and feet and hair all seemed to be in the way. The three others also seemed strained, struggling to remain controlled. The empty space where Bright Liu should be was sucking them all in, a vacuum which absorbed all their thoughts and speech. Sara couldn’t bear the empty space. She had to ask: “I’ve not heard. Is there any news?”

            Storm’s eyes were tired. “There is no news from me. There is only rumor. It’s fortunate for Liu that his father is in the Party. Also that he has no previous record of causing trouble.”

            Jade stirred. “I have news, perhaps.” The other two moved uneasily. Her red-rimmed eyes didn’t augur well.

            “Liu’s mother has called me. She knows that we are duixiang, engaged. She wanted me to know.” Her voice trailed off.

            “What, then?” Storm prodded.

            “She has heard from Liu. Actually, it’s his father who has heard, through the Party. Liu has been struggled with. He has agreed it was not right for Falun Gong to challenge the Party. He is being sent down for re-education. They don’t know where, or for how long. His family is waiting for more news, but it’s difficult.”

            Sara reached out again without thinking; Jade took the offered hand without looking at Sara. She gripped Sara’s hand with a spasmodic strength, as though all the fear and love and anxiety in Jade’s heart had been re-routed in her grip. The cold rain of mid-October drizzled down the smoke-dulled panes.

            Storm reached for Sara as soon as they entered  her apartment. “Let’s forget, just for awhile, about Bright Liu, can we?  My brain is tired from thinking in circles, with no plan.”  Without a word Sara led him to her bed. Later,  as they were twined together on her bed, she snuggled closer to Storm and stroked his cheek.

            She said, “I love you.” Those English words again. They kept coming to her lips, even though they might not mean as much to Storm.

            His response was unexpected: “Why is that?”

            “Why do I love you?”  Sara struggled to find words to match Storm’s serious look. “Different reasons. Changing reasons.”

            Then she warmed to her subject. “First, I loved you because you move with the grace of a cat. And because your hair falls across your forehead, black and shining like a crow’s wing. And because your hooded eyes hide secrets.

            “Then I loved you because of your elegant hands, fingers so long, touch so gentle and yet so strong. And because of your body:  slender, wiry and smooth to touch.

            “And now I love you also because I’ve seen your eyes flash with passion. And now I am one of the secrets hidden in your eyes.”

            She waited for him to respond. Finally he stirred. “You want me to say something back?”

            “Yes.”

            “Something about what you have said?”

            Sara shook her head. Why was this so hard? She tried to make it easier for him. “Or something about what you feel.”

            “Ah.”  He paused again, then spoke slowly, as if feeling his way. “This ’I love you’, in Chinese I think there isn’t a word that means quite the same. Maybe ’jiang ai’ but I’m not sure.”

            “Try,” Sara ordered.

            Storm pulled back from her embrace and studied her seriously. “I loved you first, if it was love; maybe fascination, because of the way the sun strikes your hair and sets it on fire, and because your pale skin shows every flush of feeling, and because you stand so straight. I wanted to look you in the eye, but didn’t dare, so I was always debating with myself: what color are your eyes? 

            “Then I loved you because of your certainty. Once you had decided to love me, there was no hiding, no pretense, no hesitation, no coyness. You welcomed me. That was all, and all in all.

            “Now I love you because you’re a part of me. I can’t imagine being separate from you.” Storm was silent again, thinking, then resumed in a lighter tone.

            “Still, in Chinese, there is no word for ‘love’. No single word that takes in all that we’ve said. Maybe I have caught this feeling from you, like some strange disease from the West.”

            “Not a disease!” Sara protested, laughing.

            “No? When you drain me of energy until I can barely stand? When I can’t concentrate on work or serious matters for thoughts of you that invade my mind? You are huli jing, I shouldn’t forget. You will take all my Chinese manhood and leave me a basket of Western notions with no place to use them. “

            Sara began to respond sharply and then realized that Storm was laughing at her again. She made a fist and punched him lightly; he seized her hand and suddenly they were wrestling. Then Sara was laughing helplessly as he pinned her beneath him and tried without success to stop her laughter with kisses. Breathless, she went limp and Storm drew back. Sara reached up and stroked his face again.

            “I don’t think I will take all your Chinese manhood. Your mother wouldn’t forgive me if I robbed her of a grandson.”

            Storm captured her hand again and pulled her arm around him, lying close as he murmured, “Ah, be careful! A grandson isn’t to be spoken of lightly!” Sara nodded and allowed her body to respond to his insistent hands. But a corner of her mind was thinking of Richie’s picture, face down in her drawer, and wondering what a son of Storm’s would be like.

Fox Spirit 56 – Another Fateful Phone Call

           

Golden Week was finally over. Sara’s heart quickened Monday morning when she heard Storm’s step outside her office cubicle. She turned to catch his eye, felt his hand touch her shoulder briefly, then turned back to her desk, smiling. They would meet at lunch, maybe. She took a deep breath at the thought of that meeting.         

               From her cubicle she could hear Storm’s cell phone ringing. She heard Storm’s “Wei?” in response, heard silence, heard the urgency in his reply without being able to make out the words, heard him push back his chair, saw him move quickly past her line of sight.

            “Wait! Storm!  What is it?” she called after him. He turned quickly, took two long steps back to her and bent his head so only she could hear.

            “It’s Bright Liu. He’s been taken by the police. Zhang has asked me to go to his family. They live in the south of the city, near Dahongmen. Please make up a tale for Scarlet Li and Boss Wang.”

            He turned to go; Sara seized his arm and pulled him back.

            “But why?  It is always Zhang who talks politics, Liu who makes peace!  How can this be?”

            “Didn’t you know?  Liu is part of Falun Gong. The government has decided to crush them.”

            He disappeared through the door to the lobby.

            Sara stared after him, uncomprehending. Falun Gong? The peaceful demonstration from back in April?  She remembered her conversation with Scarlet at the time, but why would the government take action now?

            She wanted to ask Scarlet about it, but hesitated. Storm had told her to make up a tale. He and Trueheart Zhang were both gone. Storm had not wanted others in the office to know of his friend’s being taken. And what about Jade, Bright’s girlfriend?  Did she know? Sara shivered in the air-conditioned office. “Taken by police.” Such an ominous phrase. Taken where? Why? For how long? “Crush them.” She had heard stories, but that was supposed to be the old China, the China of Mao, not the bustling capitalist-road China of Deng Xiao Ping and his heir, Jiang Zemin. What could Bright have been involved with?

            By the next day she guessed. Bright Liu must have been part of the April demonstration near the Zhongnanhai government compound. Beijing, including the Rainbow Software office, was buzzing with speculation, though almost nothing appeared in the nightly news programs or official newspapers.

            Sara joined Scarlet Li and the younger engineers who were discussing the government reaction in muted voices. “But what will happen to the demonstrators?” Sara asked Scarlet. Sara realized she knew nothing about Chinese law.

            “If the government decides to punish them, it will find a law that they have broken.” Scarlet said, stepping away from the group. “You must know, Sara, if you prick the tiger with a pin, he will answer with his claws. I don’t know what will happen. Probably the demonstrators will be released after some time, after they’ve repented, after they’ve renounced their loyalty to Falun Gong. The first loyalty must always be to the government.”

            “But what about a trial? Won’t there be a trial?  The demonstrators harmed no one!”

            “Trial? The police can detain anyone whom they feel disturbs the peace. Only after three years they must be given a trial. But even then, if the person isn’t found guilty, he may still not be allowed to return to his home. This depends on his attitude, whether he has accepted re-education.”  Scarlet stopped and waited, as if expecting some comment from Sara.

            “Three years with no trial?” Sara stopped in mid-question, suddenly aware of Scarlet’s lowered voice .

               Scarlet looked over her shoulder toward Wang’s office. “Sometimes people just disappear, if they are stubborn. It’s better not to draw the tiger’s attention. If you had a friend involved, your interest won’t help him. I don’t ask. I don’t wish to know. I’m only offering a word.”

            Sara felt sick to her stomach. Smiling, chubby-cheeked Liu, Bright Liu the peacemaker, disappeared?  She couldn’t take this in. And where was Storm? What risks was he running to find his friend?  Trueheart Zhang, how had he gotten news?  Was it dangerous for him to pass on what he had learned? Suddenly her quiet office life, her comfort in her tiny apartment, even her passionate love, seemed unreal, like a painted screen dropped down to hide what was really going on. She remembered her amusement at the painted sunflowers which had hidden the griminess of Beijing’s outskirts on her arrival. More masks. When would she learn to look behind the masks?

            Neither Trueheart nor Storm was not in the office the next day, nor the day after. On the third evening Sara returned to her apartment late in the evening after sharing dinner with Scarlet Li and her family. As she stopped her bicycle in front of her door and loosened the pollution-filtering face mask from across her face, she saw Storm’s lean form detach itself from the shadows under the wall and move toward her. He followed as she pulled the bicycle under its shelter. Her mind was full of questions as she turned. At the sight of his sober face her stomach clenched and she tasted bile.

            “Liu is all right? Tell me.”

            Storm hesitated before replying. “Let’s go in. It would be best to talk inside.”

            He brushed past her into the room and stood looking out through the courtyard window. The dim evening light cast his face into sharp relief: the angular cheekbones, the hooded eyes, the swathe of dark hair. Even in her anxiety, Sara couldn’t help but catch her breath. He was so beautiful. She didn’t want to speak. He moved and the spell broke.

            “Tell me,” she repeated. “What have you learned?”

           

“It isn’t me, but Zhang. He has his sources through his father’s newspaper. There’s no good news. Liu was in the front lines of the demonstration. There were video cameras, of course, almost from the first. Maybe he’s been identified from these, or perhaps there was an informer. Worse, it’s been said that he was an organizer. He’s in confinement. He’s being questioned.”

            Sara’s stomach twisted again. She had a vision from old movies of a windowless room, one bright light, dark menacing forms.

            “Questioned?  What does that mean?  What will happen?”

            “Questioning: it’s a polite term. The police will question him until he gives the answer that they want. If he’s lucky and if he isn’t stubborn, he will know and give the desired answer. If not, he will undergo struggle.” 

            “What do you mean, ‘struggle’? I’m sorry. Again I don’t understand this.”

            Storm was pacing back and forth.

             “This is another polite term. He’ll be pressured to change his thinking. You may have read of these struggles during the Ten Years Turmoil. Some people threw themselves from windows to escape their tormentors. Others were thrown. How could Liu have been so foolish?” He pounded his fist into his palm. After a few moments he went on.

            “If Liu is stubborn, if he doesn’t recant his belief in Falun Gong, if he doesn’t name others who were involved in organizing the demonstration, he may be sent to a labor camp for re-education. We hear this is happening to many of the Falun Gong demonstrators.”

            “A labor camp? Like your parents in Two Ox Village?”

            Storm nodded. “This would be very serious. He would become a non-person; he would be divided from his home, his family, his friends. Already his work is probably gone. The government would never allow a tour guide tainted by Falun Gong belief.”

            “But Liu said Falun Gong is a religious practice, not political,” Sara protested.  “In America we aren’t allowed to ask about someone’s religious beliefs, unless they get in the way of his work, or if he has to take a special religious holiday or wear a special kind of clothing. But religions and the government are separate.”

            “Really?” Storm stopped his pacing. “It’s not so in China. In China everything, including religion, has to be under the control of the government. Religion often causes conflict, doesn’t it?  I have heard this is true in India, in Arabia, even in some parts of America, right? So it’s better that the government should have control.”

            “But,” Sara hesitated. “You can’t believe that it’s right for the government to arrest someone like Liu! Someone with a gentle heart who has done no harm!”

            “No, Liu couldn’t harm the government. But I can see the government side. The leader of Falun Gong refused to allow a Communist Party group within Falun Gong. He said that Falun Gong has no party, no politics. But in China there’s nothing that can be without or outside of the Party. How could Liu have been so naïve, to think this protest would go without reprisal?  How could he?” Storm was pacing again, the fist pounding again into his palm.

            Sara couldn’t tell whether Storm’s anger was directed at Liu or at the omnipresent State. She could feel his frustration mounting as his pace quickened, as his turns at each wall became sharper. Before, he had reminded her of a panther, because of his grace and economy of movement. Now the panther was caged, pacing, furious and ready to throw itself at the surrounding bars, even knowing they were razor sharp. She knew that if he left her in this mood, he would do something reckless. He wouldn’t protest peacefully and quietly as Liu had done.

Fox Spirit 55 – The Call from Home

Bright Liu suddenly materialized at her side, offering her a plate of dim sum from the buffet table.

            “Ah, Sara, I can see a battle going on behind your face.”  His voice was low and comforting. “Just for this National Day you must let us be political. Tomorrow these fireworks will be only ashes and we’ll get back to the wheel of daily life.”

            “You heard?” Sara had thought her exchange with Storm had been quiet, especially with the fireworks going on above.

            “Only your words with Zhang,” Bright answered. “But I also saw that you wanted Cheng to stay by you and he didn’t. Don’t be upset. Tonight he and Zhang are remembering old dreams. Tomorrow he will stay.”

            Sara smiled. Even if Bright had heard her words to Storm, he was too kind to let her know, or to repeat her words. Together they joined the others at the parapet.

            After the fireworks had ended, after the thank-you’s and good-bye’s had been said to the Wangs, Sara and Storm made their way through the crowded streets to the bus stop. The bus, of course, was jammed with parade-goers and the normal fifteen minute trip to Bei Hua took an hour. Finally the two of them arrived at Sara’s courtyard.

            “Finally, some quiet and space.” Sara turned to Storm, smiling with relief and welcome. “Come and relax, I’ll make some tea and then….”  She paused, smiling with an unspoken invitation. But Cheng held back, shifting from one foot to the other, not meeting her eyes.

            “But I can’t stay, Sara. It’s Golden Week, you know. Tomorrow morning I’ll be leaving early with my parents and grandparents. We have to catch an early train to get to Suzhou and my grandparents’ family home. My grandparents are already at my parents’ apartment. I’ll sleep on a pallet tonight. Then we will be off.”

            Sara looked at him blankly. Somehow she hadn’t imagined that Storm, with his uneasy family relationships, would be part of the national family visiting.  

            “Will you really be gone a whole week?”  She could hear the dismay in her voice.

            “Eight days, actually.” His tone was light, as if one day more or less didn’t matter. “We’ll be back a week from Sunday. My great-uncle still lives in Suzhou and I have some cousins, so we’ll be well received. And my grandfather has some property in Suzhou. Even though it’s a national vacation week he hopes to talk with the manager. And perhaps I can visit a customer or two.”

            Eight days. The Rainbow Software office would be closed, along with the Children’s Palace. Silver Wing and Jerry Wang would be visiting Silver Wing’s parents outside of Beijing. Sara fought off her feeling of being abandoned and tried to match Storm’s light tone.

            “In eight days I ‘ll have time to explore a lot more of Beijing. We can exchange adventure stories when you return.”

            His shoulders relaxed as he smiled. Had he thought she was about to make a scene?  “When I return, we’ll have a lot to exchange, I hope.” He touched her shoulder gently. “Thank you, Sara.”  Then he turned on his heel and was gone, leaving Sara to let herself into her silent apartment.

            The next morning Sara lay in bed, wide awake, watching the sun glaring around the edges of the room-darkening curtain and tracking a path along the floor, trying to think of a reason to get up. She could make breakfast, but she didn’t feel hungry. She had cleaned the apartment before going to the Wang’s, expecting that Storm would come in, so there was nothing more to do there. She could call Mark. No, it would be Friday afternoon in California – he would be at work. She had told Storm she would explore Beijing while he was gone, but a solo trip to the Ming Tombs held no appeal. Finally she pulled herself out from the blankets and padded into the kitchen to make coffee. She scolded herself:  how had she become so focused on work and Storm?  Surely there must be some festivity she could join? Maybe the American Embassy was having an expatriate party. She resolved to find out and was pulling on her jeans when her phone rang.

            She picked it up. “Wei?”

            “Ah, Sai le, I have found you at home. This is Scarlet Li. I hope you are feeling well after last night’s party?”

            “Yes, thank you, Scarlet, and you?”

            “Yes, very well. Saile, I meant to speak to you last night but had no chance. I was remembering that you have no family to visit for this Golden Week holiday. Would you honor us by coming to share some of the time with my family? “

            Sara’s voice trembled as she began the ritual response to an invitation. “You are too kind, it is embarrassing. It would be too much trouble for you.” Inside she was shaking with relief.

            “It’s no trouble,” Scarlet relied “Snow Plum will be so excited to have her teacher visit. And you can teach us all some of the songs in English that Snow Plum is learning. It will be a kindness also to our parents who aren’t able to travel this holiday. They will enjoy seeing a new face.”

            “I thank you so much for your kindness,” Sara said, with gratitude putting real warmth in the polite formula. “When shall I come to your house?”

            “I think I‘ll come for you, so you aren’t lost finding our house. This afternoon at two, all right?  You can help prepare the food for the holiday. My mother will like to show you how to make dumplings. We won’t treat you like a guest.”

            Sara agreed, hung up the phone and quickly finished dressing. She would need to bring a gift to the household and she had only a short time to shop. And she should shower and shampoo her hair and make sure her good dress was clean. She wondered if Storm was dressing formally for the holiday with his family. Bright Liu and Jade Wang were probably not celebrating the holiday together either. At least she had a place to go. She should bring a toy for Snow Plum. The hollowness she had felt on waking began to fill.

            Mark’s call on Sunday filled another gap. “So, Mom, I tried to call you yesterday but no answer. I saw on TV that twenty-eight million Chinese were on the move this weekend because of some national holiday. Does that include you?  Do you have plans?  Maybe you could zip over to California just for grins?”

            Mark’s light words sent a shock of longing through Sara’s mind. She could see Mark. She could hold Richie on her lap and teach him songs, as she had held Snow Plum the evening before. She could shop for clothes in her size and not be gawked at by salesfolk who thought five foot nine was grotesquely tall. She could get a decent chocolate milkshake. She shook herself. Not reasonable.

            “Don’t tempt me, Mark!”

            “I wish I could tempt you.” His voice was suddenly serious. “I’d just like to be able to go on a long walk, the two of us, and have you give me advice like you used to. I might even take it, now. Rennie’s got her family right near by and you’re such a long way away.”

            “What do you need advice on, sweet?  I’m right here at the other end of the line.”

            “It’s nothing. Don’t worry.” She heard the dismissal in his voice like a door closing. “But I could use a long walk the next time you’re home.”

            They went on to talk of Richie’s latest words, latest tooth, latest accomplishments. Rennie was still working at the dental clinic; Sara would go with Scarlet Li’s family to the Ming Tombs during the second half of Golden Week. After Mark hung up, though, Sara couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling. Was that loneliness in Mark’s voice, or was she only imagining it as an echo of her own?