Thirteen Orphans (4 page)
Pearl felt something inside her tighten as she listened. The voice was right, as were the clothing and the appearance, but something else was very wrong.
Brenda did not know Albert Yu, so she answered politely.
“Dad drove over to your house,” Brenda said, “when you didn’t come for our appointment. I could call him. Let him know you’re back.”
“Whatever, whatever,” Albert said vaguely. He glanced over and noted the scattered mah-jong tiles on the table. “Having a game while I was out?”
Pearl stiffened, forced herself to relax. Brenda, who had pulled out a cell phone, paused with her fingers above the keypad. She glanced over at Pearl and Pearl signed her with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Brenda let the phone fall shut.
“Actually not,” Pearl said. “You know you need at least three to play mah-jong. The tiles were much like that when we arrived.”
“I’m sorry the office was left in such a mess,” Albert apologized. “Still, no harm done. I see you found some tea and shortbread. Did you get any chocolate?”
“Dad bought me a piece,” Brenda said. “It was lovely.”
“Let me get you a sampler,” Albert said.
Before they could comment, he had breezed out the door that went into the shop. They heard one of the staff members saying “Oh, Mr. Yu, I’m so glad you are here! The dowager of Longleaf …”
The words were cut off by the closing door.
Brenda looked at Pearl, and Pearl, who had expected to see doubt or accusation in the younger woman’s eyes, saw only apprehension.
“That’s Albert Yu?” Brenda asked.
“That looks like Albert Yu,” Pearl replied. She moved quickly over to the table and began gathering up the mah-jong tiles. “I have known Albert all his life. This man does not act like Albert Yu—especially Albert Yu among the Twelve. He reserves that breezy manner for customers, and only for those customers that formality would drive away.”
Brenda came over and helped Pearl collect the tiles.
“What are we going to do?”
“Will you follow my lead?”
“If I can ask questions later, and get straight answers.”
“Done.”
They had most of the mah-jong tiles stacked into their case when Albert returned. He held a long, flat box in one hand.
“Sorry for the delay,” he said. “A client who is ordering favors for five hundred guests at her granddaughter’s wedding wants to rearrange everything—at the last minute, of course. My manager needed to brief me right away.”
He extended the box to Brenda. “This is a sampler I reserve for clients who are coming in with a big order. I hope it will serve as an apology for my tardiness.”
Brenda accepted the box with stammered thanks. Pearl saw her heft it surreptitiously, and knew that Gaheris’s daughter shared her father’s tendency to automatically estimate price. Whatever figure she arrived at, Brenda was impressed.
Albert extracted a small, deep box of truffles from his pocket and handed it to Pearl.
“Your favorites. I do apologize. Do you still have time to visit?”
Pearl dropped the last mah-jong tiles into their places in their lacquerware carrying case.
“Actually, I think we should leave you to attend to your business. We’ll go out and call Gaheris, then reschedule our visit for later this week. We’d love to stay, but we have another appointment.”
“Of course, of course … .” Albert glanced toward the telephone, visions of expensive wedding favors clearly claiming his attention.
They said their good-byes.
As they were leaving, Pearl said, as if in afterthought, “Albert, might I borrow your mah-jong set? Brenda was admiring it earlier, and we might while away the evening with a game or two.”
“Take it, take it,” Albert said.
“It is an antique,” Pearl said, looking for the least sign of hesitation on his part.
“Don’t worry,” Albert said. “I know you will take good care of it.”
Pearl motioned for Brenda to pick up the case containing Albert’s mah-jong set. With easy, housewifely efficiency, Pearl herself folded up the printed cloth and tucked it into her purse.
They took their leave, exiting through the shop into the mall. Brenda pulled out her phone and looked at Pearl.
“That was Albert Yu?”
Pearl frowned. “If that was Albert Yu, then he has forgotten everything he ever knew about himself, or he would not have let me take this away with me. Call your father. We must talk.”
Paradoxically, the manner of Albert Yu’s return was what pushed Brenda into accepting that something like truth lay behind Auntie Pearl’s strange story.
Auntie Pearl seemed to sense this. When they were back in the mall’s grand foyer, waiting for Auntie Pearl’s driver to bring the car around, she gave a small, understanding smile.
“Not here,” the older woman said. “There’s my car.” The car was long and dark blue, trimmed with silver, and like everything else associated with Pearl Bright, both expensive and quietly elegant.
The driver came around and opened doors for them.
“Tell Hastings the name and address of your hotel,” Pearl said.
Brenda did. Then she slid into the car’s vast backseat. As Hastings shut the door behind her, and moved around to take his place behind the wheel, Auntie Pearl touched a button on the armrest beside her. A thick glass partition slid into place between compartments.
Auntie Pearl gave the slightest of smiles.
“An indulgence, yes, but even at my age I still find myself discussing business that I do not wish my driver to know. Tell me. You had never met Albert Yu before. I had the impression that your father had not spoken of him to you. What made you sense that something was wrong?”
Brenda looked down at the box of chocolate she now held in her lap. The box was metal, tinted a muted shade of bronze and embossed with what she thought of as “Chinese-type” flowers, hand-painted in artistically natural colors.
It was a beautiful piece, and helped her frame her thoughts.
“He wasn’t right,” she said. “The man who designed that office, who commissioned this box to hold his candy, wouldn’t have spoken the way the Albert we met did. The Albert Yu we met would have had signed photographs of himself with famous clients framed on the office walls, not ink-brush art. He would have boxed his candy in something not necessarily flashier … This is flashy in its own right, I guess. But something that hinted at dreams of moving his product into, you know, high-end department stores. Sort of like Godiva did. That kind of thing.”
Brenda looked up from the box, expecting to see Auntie Pearl looking amused, but the older woman was listening intently. Brenda was reminded of a great cat, frozen in the tall grass near a watering hole, waiting with perfect patience.
Brenda went on, her words tumbling over each other.
“And how he acted was all wrong, giving us the chocolates like that. And I could tell he didn’t remember he had an appointment with my dad, or maybe that he did, but he didn’t remember why. And he should have, shouldn’t he?”
“Oh, yes,” Auntie Pearl said. “Albert should have done so. Meeting you is very, very important to him. You are, after all, your father’s heir apparent. You don’t realize quite yet how important that is, but I promise to explain. For now, accept it.”
Brenda felt both scared stiff and relieved. She wanted to know why all this Rat stuff was important, but she didn’t, too. It was like waiting for the teacher to give out grades after a test where you had no idea at all how you had done. You wanted to know, but then again, you didn’t.
“Albert Yu shouldn’t have let you take that mah-jong set, should he?” Brenda asked, more to cover her indecision than because she had any doubts about the answer.
“He should not have done so,” Auntie Pearl agreed. “There are thirteen original mah-jong sets. This is one. They are more than antiques, more than family heirlooms. The Albert Yu I know would no more let me walk out carrying his set without comment than he would have let me walk out with his head. That argues that either that man was not Albert Yu or Albert Yu has completely forgotten who he is.”
Brenda pursed her lips, then asked, “Did he look like himself?”
“Looked, dressed, sounded, even smelled like himself,” Auntie Pearl replied. “What he did not do was speak like himself—and even that is not completely correct. I have seen him adopt that manner with some of his clients, usually movie stars or nouveau riche who would be intimidated by his usual, much more reserved manner.”
Pearl Bright paused, and when she resumed speaking, Brenda could tell that the older woman was thinking aloud. Rather than being offended, Brenda found herself deeply flattered. That great cat she’d envisioned crouching in the grass never forgot her surroundings.
“I think Albert’s deepest core,” Auntie Pearl said, “is centered around the knowledge that he is the great-grandson of an emperor. He never forgets that, not for a moment. I have known royalty. True royalty can be as human and flawed as the rest of us—more so, perhaps, because they know that no one can take from them their titles and prestige. Albert, however, knows all too well that titles can be taken, that he is an emperor in exile, not a reigning monarch. Therefore, he never lets his dignity slip.”
“But this man we met didn’t have that reserve,” Brenda said. “Are you sure he wasn’t off his guard because we were, well, sort of family?”
“Family? Never that.” Auntie Pearl coughed a hoarse laugh. “Honored and privileged advisors, but except for a few who had blood ties to the emperor—and distant ties at that, for the old emperor was wise enough not to let both bloodlines and power close to his throne—none of the Twelve were family.”
She sighed deeply, and for the first time since they met, Brenda thought that Auntie Pearl looked old. The car was curving into the wide driveway of a nice hotel of the sort that catered to business travelers.
“We will discuss this further when we have met up with your father,” Auntie Pearl said.
Gaheris Morris was waiting for them, and joined the driver in helping them out of the car. His eyebrows rose when he saw the box of expensive chocolates Brenda held, but his gasp of surprise was audible when he saw the box of mah-jong tiles Pearl Bright carried.
“Shall I help you with that?” he asked.
“Please,” Auntie Pearl said. “They are quite heavy, and I would not drop them.”
“No,” Gaheris agreed, taking the box with what Brenda thought looked like reverence. “I think not.”
Hastings was told that they would be some time, and so he could have the next several hours for his own business.
“I may not drive back home tonight,” Pearl said. “If I take rooms here, I will call you.”
The driver nodded. “I had thought this might be the case, madam. Call if I am needed.”
He bowed, slid into the car, and drove off.
“Polite fellow,” Gaheris commented. “Where did you get him? Central casting?”
“Just about,” Pearl agreed with a light laugh. “Young would-be actors always need work. Driving for me is not terribly onerous, and I am understanding if a casting call comes up suddenly. Sometimes, I even unbutton enough to reminisce about my successes. Hastings has dreams of understudying the lead in a traveling Broadway show. I do not doubt that he will ensconce himself somewhere and memorize lines until I call.”
The idle chatter had carried them to the bank of elevators. As they shared the elevator car with a couple of earnest-looking young men in suits, further talk waited until they arrived at the suite Gaheris had taken for himself and Brenda.
It was a nice set of rooms, not unduly lavish, but roomy. The front room was comfortably furnished with a sofa and two chairs with a low coffee table stretched between them. Off to one side was a small kitchenette. A square table, about the size of a card table, sat surrounded by four chairs, ready either for meetings or meals. Brenda knew that later she and her dad would flip a coin for which of them got the bed in the other room, which would sleep on the sofa bed out here.
“There’s tea,” Gaheris said, glancing at a narrow wicker basket beside the two-burner stove, “and coffee. I can get sodas and ice, or order room service, if you’d like.”
Dad must be rattled,
Brenda thought, feeling herself smile.
He never orders room service. Or maybe he wants to be kind to Auntie Pearl. But, looking at him, I think he’s rattled.
Brenda thought, feeling herself smile.
He never orders room service. Or maybe he wants to be kind to Auntie Pearl. But, looking at him, I think he’s rattled.
“I see Earl Grey there,” Auntie Pearl said. “I think I can settle for that. I also have a box of absolutely overly rich chocolate truffles here. I hope you two will share them with me.”
Brenda felt a momentarily selfish joy that she wouldn’t have to share her own treasure trove, then ashamed of herself.
“I have my chocolates, too,” she said. “Dad, I think I’d like coffee rather than tea. We got up really early this morning to fly out here. My head’s muddled with everything that has happened.”
Dad moved to set up the coffeepot, and when Brenda put her box of chocolates on the table in front of the sofa, Auntie Pearl waved for her to put them away.
“Keep those for later,” Pearl said. “That’s an expensive treasure, and one to be savored. You may never have anything like it again. I assure you, these truffles will be more than enough for us all.”
Gaheris turned from setting up the coffee, and glanced at the two boxes with their “Your Chocolatier” labels.
“You decided to raise Albert’s profit margin?”
“No,” Auntie Pearl said, and her tone held a challenge Brenda could not quite understand. “Albert gave them to us by way of an apology for his being late.”
“Gave you?” Dad turned and picked up Brenda’s box. “This is a half-pound sampler! Those run something like two hundred dollars, especially in that box. I remember thinking about getting Keely one for our anniversary, and decided that if I was spending that much she’d prefer something more permanent.”
Auntie Pearl nodded. “And Albert didn’t even offer you a discount, did he? Yet he gave Brenda and me our little gifts with a smile. That’s not the only odd thing he did.”
Succinctly, she summarized the events that had followed Albert Yu’s return.
“You’re sure that was Albert?”
“Albert or his twin,” came the tart reply, “and he does not have a twin. I may be elderly, but my vision remains perfect. My doctors are quite impressed. I simply explain that I have an excellent heritage.”
Gaheris frowned. “Auntie Pearl, is eating that chocolate wise? You said Albert wasn’t behaving quite like himself. Maybe he had some ulterior motive for giving you those chocolates.”
Pearl smiled a thin, catty smile. “Gaheris, I think you’re jealous … but that doesn’t mean you’re being unreasonable. As far as the chocolates go, I think we’re safe. I watched through the hidden window, and saw Albert tell a shopgirl to make up the boxes. She took the chocolates directly from those in the larger display case.”
“I wish I had been there,” Gaheris said. “Here’s your tea. I hope I didn’t let it get too strong.”
Brenda moved to pour herself some coffee. Auntie Pearl was opening the box of truffles, and cutting them into thirds with a very sharp folding knife she pulled from her purse.
The coffee wasn’t bad, and the truffles were like the divine ideal of chocolate. Brenda let a piece of one melt on her tongue and felt instantly restored.
“You said Albert Yu doesn’t have a twin,” she said. “Does he have any brothers? Any cousins? Anyone who might be able to pass for him?”
Auntie Pearl shook her head. She wiped a minute bit of dark chocolate off her lip before speaking.
“No. Albert is an only child. His own father was the only son of the boy I told you about earlier, the last survivor of the old emperor’s line.”
“The first Cat,” Gaheris added. “Has Auntie Pearl told you about the twelve animals?”
“A little,” Brenda said. “I know that each of the twelve wizards was associated with an animal, and that those animals are associated today with the Chinese zodiac. I know that the boy emperor, Albert Yu’s grandfather, was called the Cat, but I don’t really know why.”
Auntie Pearl said, “There are many stories about how the different animals were chosen for the zodiac, and each of them gives a different reason for why the cat was left out. Personally, I think it was because there was already one cat in the zodiac, in the tiger, but that is neither here nor there. What my father told me is that someone started calling the boy—remember, he was hardly more than a toddler—the Cat as a joke. When the magics associated with the mah-jong were developed, they considered their options.
“Normally, the emperor is associated with the dragon, but there was already a dragon among the Twelve. Had the child been a girl, they might have chosen the phoenix, the Red Bird of the South, but that would not do for a boy.”
Brenda longed to ask why not, but decided she’d probably learn soon enough.
“As I told you, mah-jong was adopted when the Twelve realized that their enemies were still pursuing them with intent toward harm. Someone, the Dog, I think, pointed out that cats were really quite good at hiding and at slipping away, even when you believed them cornered. Cats were as fierce as tigers in a fight, and nearly as cunning as rats. Everyone agreed that as the little boy already was on his way to identifying with the cat, they could do far worse, so the symbol of the emperor in exile became the cat.”
“Oh.” Brenda ate a bit of raspberry truffle and nearly dissolved at the rich levels of flavor.
Other books
Becoming Death by Melissa Brown
Grave Secret by Sierra Dean
The Lioness by Mary Moriarty
The Spyglass Tree by Albert Murray
Exclusive Access by Ravenna Tate
Abby's Vampire by Anjela Renee
Maulever Hall by Jane Aiken Hodge
Love Potion #9 by Claire Delacroix
The Long War 03 - The Red Prince by A. J. Smith
You and I, Me and You by MaryJanice Davidson
