Shanghai Girl (27 page)

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Authors: Vivian Yang

BOOK: Shanghai Girl
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16 Gordon Lou: The Lofty Move

 

Yesterday, the Nice Jewish Boys Moving Company pretty much cleaned out this place. All the machinery and equipment packed up and out, I let my workers and office staffs go last week. The only thing left is my personal office furniture. My desk, my display case, and my phone.

The Israeli boys, who spoke Hebrew among themselves, were just moderately fast. Hard for me to know how nice they were. Moving. Selling physical labor. The line of work for new immigrants to America. The Irish, the Italians, the Chinese, the Eastern Europeans, the Jews. Nearly every ethnic group that has set foot in New York has gone through this phase. Becoming a mover in New York is easy. Becoming a mover and a shaker in this town is a different story.

Up until a week ago, I thought I was well on my way to becoming a mover and shaker here, what with the final sale of the business and rubbing shoulders with the likes of DellaFaves. But I was wrong.

First, there was the call from that Ed Cook. Then, Sha-fei showed up for her meeting with me the very next day. Not only did she come with her usual impeccable report but also with an unwelcome surprise: she wanted an H-1 professional-worker sponsorship and a raise matching that status. She told me that I wasn’t the only person interested in her abilities, that she had been given recognition for her work by some political entities.

“DellaFave’s campaign for Governor?” I asked anxiously.

She nodded with a faint smile and proceeded to add, “To avoid possible embarrassment for you, Uncle Gordon, I did mention that we’re friends, and that I do occasional work for you as well.”

“Occasional work? This is absolutely brazen, disrespectful, and ungrateful!” I banged my palm against my desk. “This is a betrayal! How dare you, you underling that I took pity on in China in the name of Tao?”

But she sat there and calmly replied, “No, Uncle Gordon. You know, and I know, this is not entirely true. And I didn’t betray you at all. To the contrary, I let them know I was working for you so you could save face. I realized you’ve been reviewing the information we gathered to prepare for DellaFave’s big fund-raising event. Incidentally, I’ve been invited, too.”

“Damn!” I cried out aloud. What a back-stabber! I couldn't believe I was fooled by this young woman. I should have clipped her wings in China and never agreed to sponsor her into the United States. I thought about Ed Cook’s phone call the day before. Could he be masterminding all this for Sha-fei? “You told me you needed more money because you’re on your own now. Is that the truth, Sha-fei?”

Her large almond eyes glared at me. “Yes, Uncle Gordon. It is the truth.”


Why did you leave him?”


It wasn’t a healthy relationship. I thought you would be happy to hear that.”


It doesn’t make a difference to me anymore, Sha-fei. You’ve double-crossed me, and I cared so much about you.” I shook my head and uttered a wry laugh at myself. “Did he tell you to ask for a raise and an H-1?”


No! He didn’t even know I worked for you. You told me not to let him know that.”


What did he tell you about me?”

Sha-fei rolled her eyes and appeared to be thinking hard. “I can’t think of anything, honestly. He hardly mentioned you.”

“Do you still get together with him?”

“No, Uncle Gordon. You have to trust me. He doesn’t even know my phone number or where I live.”

I suddenly believed her. That rascal Ed Cook called me to ask for her phone number. And Sha-fei is absolutely capable of leaving the guy like that. This woman is just too good ……

An urge to strip her right then and there ripped through me. I wanted to gratify the craving that had been buried in me for so long. Look at her, in a charcoal gray suit, something I had never seen her wear before. And those long legs wrapped inside the nylons. Staring at this creature in front of me in sheer bewilderment, I extended myself and pled, “Come, Sha-fei, come to me. Just come … ” She didn’t move. I walked over and hugged her.

She eased out just as fast and began in her same composed voice, “I have to get going, Uncle Gordon. I really came to ask for a sponsorship and a raise. I thought if other people were offering, you deserved to have a chance first.”

Quietly, I pushed my glasses up my nose bridge and considered. Then, I held her hand and said, “Sha-fei, my child. I can certainly give you a raise to nine hundred a month. As to the sponsorship, you know I’m caught in the midst of this move and the sale of the company. I’ve got some very thorny matters to settle. I’m afraid this is not the best time.”

Her hand still in mine, she looked at me understandingly and said, “Thank you very much for the raise. I do appreciate it, as always. Can I be of some help in the matters you mentioned?”

I smiled fleetingly and let go of her hand. “I can deal with them just fine, Sha-fei. And thanks for asking. Now take care of yourself.”

She flashed her dimples while giving me a firm handshake. “Thanks again, Uncle Gordon. You take care of yourself, too. And happy moving.”

She walked out with those legs on heels before I could say anything else. I stood in my office transfixed, until I heard the faint “ding” of the elevator outside.

And there goes Sha-fei and that dream.

Have mercy on me, Almighty Buddha Bodhisattva!

 

The expression
Nong Qiao Cheng Zhuo
jumps into my head after Sha-fei leaves. I have tried to be cunning yet ended up being outwitted by foxiness itself. I have underestimated Sha-fei and got myself into an absurd position. All my efforts lately have been devoted to closing the business here. I hardly thought about this Ed Cook, or even Sha-fei Hong. Big mistake. Well, live and learn. And continue to bear and endure -
Ren
. Be the
Ninja
soldier with a design.

The battle with Ed Cook is fate. Bad karma exists between us. I had sensed the negative
Qi
, the perverse energy already when I met him in Shanghai by accident. I tried to stay away from him, to deny his existence after what he had done to Irene. But karma keeps bringing him back to haunt me. First through Irene, then through Sha-fei. And now, he even threatens me directly over the phone.

Tax evasion and illegal dealings abroad. If the accusations stick, he could ruin me and my career. If he dug further, he might find out my transactions through Hong Kong over the years. Sachs & Klein are the only people who know about such matters. This is no joke. Ed Cook has to go. I have no other choice. The
Ninja
is a warrior with the right moves.

A call to Dong Kee Siew is in order. The young man had telephoned me about a week ago to offer Chairmen Siew's assistance with my move.

"We'll arrange to have it done for you free of charge, Boss Lou," he assured me. "The Chinese boys are excellent. All new from Guangdong Province, strong as bulls. They are used to carrying a couple hundred pounds of wheat on their shoulders.”

But sheer physical strength wasn’t my only concern. “Have they been movers before?” I asked politely. “My mahogany furniture does need to get from point A to point B, scratch free.”

Dong Kee paused briefly then said, “For you, Boss Lou, we’ll select the best. They won't leave dents anywhere or knock off anything."

I asked him to thank the Chairman for his kindness, but no, thanks. I did ask him about something else, though. I had found out upon returning from China, that he had asked Lotus out to lunch when I was away. "Lotus is a nice girl," I said.

"Thank you, Boss Lou. She really is. She told you already?"

The excitement in his voice made me realize there was something more. “Yeah?” I uttered ambiguously.

“The invitations will be out soon, Boss Lou. You sure will get one.”

“Ah. Congratulations, young man. I’m happy for her. You must know that I'm closing shop here, don't you?"

"Heard a little here and there, yes."

"Then you know she won’t have to work any longer.”

“Yes, yes, Boss Lou. And I won’t let her. Just allow me to thank you for providing her years of employment. I’ll let her stay home and bear sons.”

“Good. I wish you 'Sons and grandsons filling the house.'”

“It’s certainly most kind of you, Boss Lou. But I thought you were a high-class, American-educated gentleman. You believe in our prayers for male seeds as well?”

"Do in Chinatown as the locals do."

It took Dong Kee a few seconds to respond. "Is that a saying I don't know, Boss?"

I laughed. "No, it isn't. You take care now. And give my regards to the Chairman."

"Thank you, thank you, Boss Lou. You take care of your precious health yourself. Give me a call if you need anything."

And now I need something. I will call him to make a deal. As it happens, Mr. Stockman, the owner of Nice Jewish Boys Moving Company, bought this factory building of mine. The Israeli boys came as part of Mr. Stockman's package deal that I couldn't refuse. In eighteen months, the building will be converted to fifteen loft units for rent, a sure cash cow in the Manhattan housing market. And I have retained an interest in the management company.

Dong Kee sounded delighted over the phone. He and Lotus will be eternally grateful for my wedding present -- a loft apartment. They, in turn, he vowed in the name of the Clan, would do everything possible to accomplish their end of the deal.

 

Soon after my placing the call to Dong Kee, Lotus enters my office to thank me. “Boss, this is marvelous! A 2,000 square feet loft in this building? It must be worth over a million! Brainy and I could never dream of owning an apartment here. Thank you so much!”

I point at the display case. “Had you told me you were engaged, this could have been yours as well.”

Lotus’s lychee eyes expand like I never saw them before. “Can I still? Oh, Boss!” She pulls my sleeve coquettishly. “I’ve been taking care of it for so long.”

I change the topic abruptly. “Did your fiancé tell you what the loft comes with?”

“Sure, he did. We are still elated.”

“Think you can handle that?”

“Absolutely, Boss. Brainy will make sure it runs smoothly. You want to see something?”

“What?”

“I’ll show you this, and I then can have the display case, okay?” she says with her head tilted.

For a split second I envisioned Sha-fei.

“Show me first.”

Lotus opens a small, velvet box. Her engagement ring. "It's from the best jeweler in Chinatown, my
Lao Dao
's old customer. Twenty-four K, not a speck of impurity. The half-carat diamond is imported directly from South Africa. The jeweler has relatives in Johannesburg."

“Beautiful,” I comment weakly, drawing her to me. “Soon to be a Mrs., aye? So, what stopped you from sharing the good news with your boss? Afraid I wouldn’t like it?”

Lotus looks frightened, and I am reminded of the fear Sha-fei showed when she saw me changing in the hotel room in Shanghai. Oh, that devilish Sha-fei Hong! I lead Lotus’s hands to my tie and press my lips against hers. She unbuttons my shirt dutifully, as usual, from top to bottom.

“Just this last time,” I whisper to her ear. “I promise.”

She works me over with such dexterity, peeling away my pinstriped shirt, sending one cuff link flying, and leaving the tie loose on my neck like a lasso. My waist belt is the next thing to go.

Then I undress her, trying hard to visualize Sha-fei. First, there is a maroon sweatshirt that reads “CUNY – Hunter College.” Then her beige T-shirt from Gap. Lastly, a pink brassiere with a black clasp in the front from Frederick’s of Hollywood.

And that pair of breasts, small and full. Conjugally full, the size of those of my father’s concubines. They always come in our favorite sizes and shapes, like big, freshly steamed buns with nipples sticking out, the sole, red bean on the smooth-skinned bun. Beans rising at my touch. Perhaps it’s nature not nurture, genetics not synthetics, again I covet her tapering cleavage, the cleavage of a maid raised on an Oriental diet despite McDonald’s and public school lunches …

Rice paddies. Bamboo-flute melodies. Water buffalo serenity. No greasy hamburger meat. No fries. No American cheese. Everything’s the same as back in China, unspoiled. A Chinatown butcher’s daughter.

I roll down her lacy, pink silk G-string panties. Kisses and squeezes press on her tiny feet, like those three-inch golden lotuses my father and father’s father so often fondled. Then, I pick her up by the waist, place her on my desk and bend over for her.

A bottle rolls by my foot. It had fallen out of one of my drawers when I was emptying them of junk. It is the bull’s penis extract Lotus brought back from Hong Kong. Never used. Until now.

I pick her up again and lay her flat on the floor, then smear this honey paste on her crotch. I listen to her dainty moans, my hand begins to tremble. Layer upon layer I paint her, till she’s a chocolate-coated lollipop.

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