The Gaze of Caprice (The Caprice Trilogy Book 1) (60 page)

              “I’m sorry,” said Xiaoyu.  She struggled against the casual abatement—nothing.  She had meant something.  The question was valid if not in her mind.  But he wouldn’t read what he couldn’t understand.  That would be awkward, like the moment.

              “You read Chinese,” said Diana.

              “I am Chinese,” said Xiaoyu.

              “Really?” said Diana.  Xiaoyu nodded.

              “From where?” asked Diana.

              “Liaoning Province,” said Xiaoyu.

              “Which city?” asked Diana.

              “Changyu,” said Xiaoyu.

              “I’m from Jiang Cheng,” said Diana.

              “What a coincidence,” said Xiaoyu.

              “It is,” said Diana, “What brings you to Malaysia?”

              “Business,” said Xiaoyu, “You?”

              “I work locally,” said Diana.  Xiaoyu glanced at his watch. 

              “Oh.  I gotta go,” said Xiaoyu, “Nice meeting you…”

              “Liu Dan,” said Diana.

              “Guo Bai,” said Xiaoyu, “You can have it if you like.”  Xiaoyu left the paper for Diana and left before she had time to answer.  His coffee came with him.

              Diana didn’t see him till the next week.  The next week rained.  Xiaoyu stood at the coffee table at 7:35am.  The fifth contact had more contact.  Diana saw Xiaoyu standing at the table in the usual corner.  The sight was becoming commonplace; it processed easily.  Diana became less certain the corner was hers.  Xiaoyu looked up at her as she walked toward the corner.  He held up his latest edition of
The China Press
.

              “
At it again
,” said Xiaoyu.

              “
I see that
,” said Diana, “
How are you
?”

              “
Good, yourself
,” said Xiaoyu. 

              “
I’m on my usual routine
,” said Diana, “
I don’t complain unless thrown off of it
.”  Xiaoyu found the conversation flowed more naturally in their native tongue.  But he noticed an inability to fully express himself in Mandarin.  His formal education had ended at age eight.  The architects behind
Caprice
had not thought of everything.  They used After Sensory Perception to program foreign languages into his subconscious.  They didn’t account for his Mandarin or lack there of.  It was his native language; they knew.  They hadn’t accounted for his ten years in Hong Kong.  He had spent more years hearing and handling Cantonese than he had with formal study of Mandarin.  Still, he could speak.  But his shyness about exposing his lack of sophistication with Mandarin had the effect of a vaccine.  It was poisonous at first.  It wounded his pride.  But it proved to be the deciding factor in the health of the operation.  Xiaoyu’s Mandarin or his perception of it made him speak less.  Diana filled in the space that opened up.  Xiaoyu was forced to listen.  This endeared her to his conversation—the absence of it.  She had the opportunity to have someone listen to her in her native language.  It was appreciated.

• • •

              Two weeks later, they met for the first time outside the coffee shop.  The comedy club was called
Ha-Laysia Comedy Lounge
a local favorite in Medan Pasar, a few blocks from the Klang River.  Most of the acts were in English but a few stand-up acts were in Malay.  Malay comedians were unique, many had made their careers doing English-language stand-up.  But the draw was the cross-cultured and cosmopolitan nature of the city itself.  So many jokes were funny because so many jokes were true.  The English stand-up made sure locals and internationals could blend the audience.  Diana was more local and Xiaoyu more international but they blended well.  They’re first meeting outside the coffee shop was important.  Diana had to make a decision on Xiaoyu with something other than both liking coffee in the morning.  So many in metropolitan cities had that in common.  Processed Arabica beans were a daily dose for most city dwellers but reheated coffee was never as good.  Diana wanted to be sure she wasn’t repeating the same strained relationship with a different guy.  She admitted to herself Xiaoyu was exotic looking.  To her, that made him attractive, not different.  What made him different was how he laughed.  He laughed like a baby walking the first time without falling.  He just went off in uncharted direction.  He wasn’t doing it for anyone else; he laughed for himself.  Like he needed it.  Like a baby first walking, he knew he needed to eventually.  So he did.  For Diana, there was something appealing about a young and handsome man enjoying himself for delight of himself—inexcusably appealing.  Xiaoyu made no excuses.  From Changyu to Kuala Lumpur it was his turn to be in control or out of.  He adapted.  He forgot about so many things for so many moments then the show ended.  The comedy club had food but Xiaoyu had suggested they just drink and get food at a place he knew.  The place he knew was known by Mason first.  He suggested it because it was quiet and dark.  The kind of intimate setting Georgia would have approved to treat a lady.  He did.  They ate a la carte and ordered a bottle of merlot.  Georgia made sure he knew what he was doing with a menu and wine list.  Diana reminded him of his sister—in lifestyle, not appearance. 

Diana was thinner than the Li women.  Xiaoyu’s mother and sister wore curves from puberty onward, a trait handed down from Baba.  Li Xing took after Mama.  They were the skinny ones.  Diana lived a city life and dressed and acted much like Xiaofeng at the same time in her life.  Xiaoyu imagined Xiaofeng in the same way, nights on the town with young suitors.  The idea gave him a piece to chew on.  It was one way of imagining his unseen sister. 

              Diana was familiar enough but different enough to be worthwhile.  If they were too similar to anything either had known it would be a caution.  If they were too dissimilar it would be a warning.  But Diana wasn’t like Xiaofeng.  She talked and talked, as if Xiaoyu wasn’t really there.  It was a contrast to his sister who always wanted to know what he was thinking and tried to protect him.  Diana just seemed like she wanted him around then she’d go on and on as if he weren’t.  He could be present and absent all at the same time.  He had felt a similar feeling all his life, making it easy to feed her the line—he fed her the line.  He was a businessman out of Hong Kong and he was doing a private equity deal between a Hong Kong and Malaysian company.  The deal also included a Singaporean company.  He couldn’t name names because the deal was between private companies but he assured her the deal would be in the paper months after it was finished.  The time presented a relative safety net.  After the deal, Xiaoyu would be back in Hong Kong exponentially, no more revolving flights to Kuala Lumpur.  He couldn’t give an exact timeline of when he would be leaving; negotiations were still on going.  Her story he already knew.  But she told him so much more.  Xiaoyu realized something about himself.  He liked listening.  They shared a taxi back to her building.  There was no invitation for Xiaoyu to come up only a promise to make plans for the weekend.  The only ambiguity was whether they’d see each other at the coffee shop or get in touch by phone.  It was decided that Xiaoyu would call her on Friday if they didn’t see each other at the coffee shop the next week.  

• • •

              Diana wasn’t at the coffee shop Wednesday or Thursday but she came Friday, saving Xiaoyu the phone call.  Their contact became patterned.  Diana—who became fond of having Xiaoyu listen to her—assumed he was always up to listen, making her more able to talk.  And she did talk.  While she talked, Xiaoyu had the opportunity to think.  Being Guo Bai was easy when most of what he did was listening.  Not talking made it easier to be someone else.  Xiaoyu was supposed to get more information from Diana.  The fact that she was comfortable talking to him lent both providence and Xiaoyu a hand.  On Saturday, they took a boat ride on the river.  The city felt more peaceful while afloat but looked threatening from afar.  As the boat went further along the river and farther from the city, so much of who Diana was melted away.  She had spent years making herself into a society woman.  Her short-cut hair was the classic working girl symbol—neat and professional—no fuss.  Her summer dresses weren’t tailor made but the fit didn’t show a difference.  All the customizations of life faded as the city became the background.  She paid closer attention to the natural landscape and natural order.  She brought up the topic of him leaving.  He didn’t know how to respond.  It was part of the operation for him to leave.  It was true before the operation began.  But he had to acknowledge something that he ignored before.  He was dealing with a real person.  The project would proceed like real.  She wasn’t Jusuf Juric pretending to be Aleksandar Stojanovic or Mykola Voloshyn living as a priest.  All elements around them were her actual life.  Her job at
Malpen
was her natural life. 

She told him she was anxious.  Her heart had been on hold for a good long while.  But she was twenty-nine years old—no kid.  Letting herself become unbridled for a man she knew would leave wouldn’t tame her heart but inflame it.  There would be frustration from distance.  All things ended one way or another.  It was likely; she knew.  They’re relationship would end out of distance.  But there was hope.  She was a high-level systems administrator.  He was a dealmaker.  She could find work in Hong Kong.  She speculated she could easily switch citizenship from Chinese to Hong Kong if she made the city her home.  Kuala Lumpur wasn’t exactly China.  She considered herself a citizen of the world.  But not everywhere in the world felt like home.  She was as cosmopolitan as she would get and she would always be Chinese in Malaysia, never a true local.  She said she was beginning to look at citizenship as urbanization instead of nationalization.  She had traveled South Asia for work and realized every country varied from city-to-city.  She considered her citizenship as Kuala Lumpuran.  If she moved to a different city it would become her new citizenship.  After all, she proclaimed a detailed knowledge of Kuala Lumpur that so many Malaysian couldn’t.  A Malaysian villager looked more out of place in the city than she did.  That little irony was only the beginning.  She spoke English and it was the stronger currency.  A Malaysian who depended on speaking and being spoken to in Malay could get by but his social standing in the city would be limited by his language, not what he might say. 

Xiaoyu realized she was a creature adrift.  Tastefully, he realized this before they got out of the boat.  Instead of stopping at a village restaurant along the river they took the return ride on very empty stomachs to dine in style at
Marquis Medi
, in the city center.  The restaurant was known for its kitchen staff who hailed from the Amalfi Coast.  The combinations weren’t common in Malaysia neither were the ingredients, pastas and Parmesan, tomatoes and tortellini.  The seafood was mostly imported.  It raised the price and prize of eating at
Marquis Medi
.  Xiaoyu suggested Diana meet some of his colleagues.  He wanted to assure her the relationship was to last longer than his stay in Kuala Lumpur.  At the same time, they both agreed that it didn’t have to.  The unlikely idea that they would remain friends no matter what came up.  They both openly agreed to the idea while holding on to private doubt.  Xiaoyu’s doubt was absolute.  They decided that having fun while time allowed was the only way to proceed.  No matter what happened they could always deny they were even dating and tell themselves they were only having fun.  It might complicate things but fun was fun.  In the interest of fun, they agreed over dinner that it didn’t make sense to always be two.  They planned an indoor rock climbing session for the following weekend.  Xiaoyu would bring two of his colleagues helping with the transaction.  Diana would bring a girlfriend she met at a self-defense class.  It was just for fun.

              It was all for fun but it wasn’t all a lie.  Joe and Mason were Xiaoyu’s colleagues.  They were all involved in a transaction in Kuala Lumpur.  Joe was based locally.  Mason was from America but worked out of Hong Kong sometimes.  The fantastic weaving of true and false made the deception almost fun, if fun was a way of thinking about deception.  The wall was 35-meters high.  It made sense to choose an objective.  For a reserved two hours, they would each climb the wall thrice.  Whoever had the shortest time after three combined trips would be the winner.  Xiaoyu—the obvious athlete—could have won the game.  But he let the spotlight—which initially fell on him—fall off.  Because of Xiaoyu’s mild forfeit, Yamila was the winner—Diana’s friend.  The rock climb was legitimate fun.  Even Mason allowed himself to admit it.  It was the most fun he had on the job, excluding setting up the board to play.  The Chessmaster preferred working with his plans but enjoyed the distinction in working with his hands.  After the climb and competition were done, Xiaoyu suggested food.  Yamila suggested a Bhuddist restaurant, although she didn’t follow the tradition.  Yamila had an aggressive nature that left no arguments.  The Bhuddist restaurant became the second destination of the day.

              They all managed to fit into a booth.  The restaurant was a modern take on Bhuddism.  The statues were in place and the lighting was low to match, although the restaurant had the feeling of a diner.  But the name was impressive,
One of Garden
.  The men:  Joe; Mason and Xiaoyu sat on one side.  Diana and Yamila had more space on the other side.  Yamila tactfully sat down first and went to the end of the seat, sitting opposite Xiaoyu.  Diana sat across from Joe.  Mason was a leftover at the far end.  Diana didn’t have a lot of weight to carry up the wall but she lacked enough muscle to carry what she did have. Her skinny—almost malnourished—look was in fashion but it stood in deep contrast to Xiaoyu’s athletic build.  Yamila was the rock climber.  It was the reason she won after Xiaoyu decided he shouldn’t.  A flutter of a feather of jealousy was all but obvious.  Yamila’s figure wasn’t the direct opposite of Diana’s but the desired opposite.  Whereas Diana was skinny, Yamila wasn’t fat.  She was toned with very little fat.  Being ethnic Malay her skin was a rustic red.  Her body looked healthier than Diana’s sickly appearance.  Yamila was the more attractive of the two but Diana had the more feminine face.  Still, the men at the table seemed to pay more attention to Yamila, herself demanding it.  Mason said little.  He chimed in with a witty insight that kept the conversation going.  Joe was naturally talkative.  It wasn’t a desired habit for intelligence work but a background agent had to fill other agents in.  That required talking.