Mambo in Chinatown

by Jean Kwok

  Once, Nina had pretended to be Dominic teaching a dance session. “I don’t like your feet, your legs, your shoulders and your head. Just cut them all off!”

  But the week before, I’d caught sight of myself in the mirror while going to a student and I’d had to double-check that it was really me. This woman, walking proud, shoulders back and neck stretched out long, looked like she belonged here. It was sustaining that appearance that was the challenge.

  Julian was leading that morning’s dance session. Despite myself, my heart thrilled. I remembered how loose and sure of myself I felt dancing with him. He began by announcing, “We will be doing international tango and the emphasis in today’s lesson is standard technique. Simone, if you please.”

  With a little smile, Simone positioned herself in Julian’s arms. He stepped right up to her, so that there was no distance in between their bodies. She arched her back and head back in a dramatic sweep away from him.

  Julian adjusted her head. “Don’t break the line. It must all come from the spine.” He dropped his arms so that he was only touching her with his stomach and stepped forward and back. Simone followed him perfectly. He pivoted, and she did as well, moving as one entity. Then he stepped away from her with a nod and turned to the rest of us. “Gentlemen, when you lead with the true center of your body, you will not need your arms. When we lead with arms, we are only as graceful as an octopus, because that is what we will look like.”

  Julian pretended he was an octopus. We all laughed. I wondered if he knew how appealing he was. But of course he did. “Take a partner, everyone.” Then Julian held his hand out to me and I felt my pulse flutter. “No arms, Silver syllabus international tango across the floor.”

  The other dancers set off and I was astounded to see how smooth and coordinated their movements were, even though they only touched each other with their middles.

  Julian put his arms around me and arched my back, while maintaining contact with our pelvises. Before I could worry about how inappropriate this would seem to Pa, he positioned my spine and head until I was staring at a point on the ceiling. It was so awkward and uncomfortable, I forgot everything else. “How does that feel?”

  “Awful,” I squeaked. I could hardly breathe in this position.

  He chuckled. “That’s good. It takes some getting used to. Now, hold that and let me lead. Don’t worry about where your feet go, just keep your spine arched and your head up.” He took me into dance position and started off. I saw the ceiling spin as we went into a series of lightning-fast pivot turns across the floor. I panicked and started to straighten.

  “No, hold the position, breathe into your center. You’re doing just fine,” he said. We started moving in a straight line again, then he dipped me so that my back was almost parallel to the floor, and we both flowed to the side, then he stopped abruptly and pivoted us around. With a jerk of his arm, our heads snapped to the other side. He swung me into a series of fans around his body. “Welcome to international tango. You’re a natural.”

  I smiled, flattered. I had never been a natural at anything. He let me go and I looked up to see that the others were finishing their round of the ballroom, still without using their arms. Simone swung into a swirl around Dominic without any contact at all.

  Then we all assembled again. “Now we switch leads,” Julian said. “Still no arms for the rest of you. Charlie, you may lead me with your hands.” All of the women got into the leading position and the men, including Dominic, took the lady’s part.

  “I’ve been waiting for this day,” Simone said, as she positioned Dominic in front of her. Everyone laughed. It was the first time I’d heard Simone say anything funny. I was so used to her being unpleasant.

  The others took off again, with just as much precision as they had the first time around.

  “How can they do that?” I asked.

  “It’s the job of the professional to be able to do both roles equally well,” Julian said. “All right, our turn.”

  He turned around so that he was in the lady’s position and I was in the man’s. I took him into dance position and he arched back, as perfectly as any woman. I looked at him in the mirror and his position was flawless. It should have looked ridiculous, but on Julian, it didn’t.

  “I don’t know any steps,” I said.

  “Steps are a crutch,” he said, without breaking his line. “Learn to move. That’s what takes years of training. Lead me, Charlie.”

  I took a step closer to him so that our bodies were touching as before. I stepped forward with my left leg and he didn’t budge. Julian broke position and looked down at me.

  “You were moving with your leg. You need to propel yourself with your center. When our centers connect, then we have dance. Breathe into your middle.” He slid his hand in between our bodies and laid it on my stomach. How strange to be touched so intimately by a man I hardly knew. Pa would be shocked—or would he? He’d watched Ma perform too. Maybe he’d understand more of my life than I thought he would, if I only gave him the chance.

  I clenched my teeth and stood still. This seemed impossible. Julian settled himself into lady’s part again. I forced my body to relax. I thought about how, in tai chi, I told the students we had to move from our centers, keeping our minds and bodies in balance by creating a healthy circulation of qi, the vital life force, within us. I closed my eyes and allowed my body to go forward. I didn’t feel any resistance at all.

  In surprise, I opened my eyes and Julian was directly in front of me. He’d flowed with me. I did it again, simply propelling us forward but with no awareness of my feet or legs, just thinking about my center connected to his, gliding forward. He moved as if he were a part of me, weightless and effortless. I took a step backward and he stayed with me. I went to the side, he followed. It was like he was an attachment. I laughed with joy.

  Julian deliberately turned his head to wink at me. Then he arched backward again. We stepped forward and I decided to try some of the pivot turns he’d just done with me. We spun around and around. I stopped and we broke apart.

  He had a broad smile on his face. “You understand. Do you know what I like about you? Not your talent, because although you are gifted, so are we all. Because you have the desire that makes the difference between success and failure. Those who succeed are the ones who are willing to follow their talent into all of the unknown places it will take them.”

  —

  It was the monthly studio party and I was wearing a dark red dress Adrienne had given me. It fit me closely, with a soft skirt that swung when I moved. Like all of the other dancers, I was wearing a Santa hat. I was grateful the theme this time was simply Christmas, instead of cowgirl or Grecian goddess.

  The studio was dimly lit, with platters of cheese, crackers and fruit laid out on the tables. Bottles of wine stood open. We all knew better than to drink. It looked like a party, but it wasn’t for us since we were working. The students started to arrive. First came the regulars like Keith, but I also recognized two female students who had been in my beginners’ class. They waved at me as soon as they entered. Close behind them came Evelyn, her fiancé Trevor and Ryan, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tan pants.

  “Mr. Sexy can come to Mama,” Mateo whispered in my ear, keeping his eyes on Ryan.

  “Is Mama me or you?” I asked.

  He looked at me in some surprise. “I’m Mama, of course.” Then he waltzed off.

  Like the other teachers, I went to greet the students I knew. While Evelyn and Trevor were chatting with Nina, Ryan approached me, his shoulders backlit by the spotlights.

  “So you do exist after all,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Evelyn’s really set on my doing the father-daughter dance with her at her wedding but I wouldn’t come back unless you were my teacher. They told us you weren’t available then.” He looked sheepish. “Gues
s I’m not that brave.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “It’s intimidating to learn how to dance, but every teacher here is very nice.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  I laughed. “So how come you’re here tonight?”

  “It’s a part of that introductory package, along with the beginners’ lesson.”

  The lights flickered, signaling that the dancing demonstration was about to begin, and we all gathered around Simone and Mateo. Much as I disliked Simone, she was beautiful on the floor. They went into a series of bolero moves that ended with her arched backward in a dip, to applause.

  When the general dancing started, I found it wasn’t as hard to ask the men to dance as I’d thought, since they seemed pleased to be approached. This wasn’t personal; it was simply my job. Many of them were beginners and they were excited if we could move around the floor without crashing into someone. I left the more advanced students to the others. Keith and Simone swirled around to a complex Viennese waltz, and I found myself enjoying dancing with the students until one student said to me, mid-foxtrot, “Have you seen the new Gauguin exhibit at the MoMA?”

  I stumbled. It was like he was speaking another language. “No.”

  “It’s fantastic. I love all of the postimpressionist painters, don’t you?”

  “Shall we try a box step with turn?” I knew he wouldn’t be able to do it, and instead of all his art talk, he started apologizing for not doing the step properly.

  Then Ryan was standing in front of me with his hand extended. When the swing music started, he began to move right in time to the music.

  “I see you’re not wearing your boots tonight,” I said.

  “Having enough trouble not getting tied into a pretzel as it is.”

  I grinned. “Do you remember the underarm turn?”

  In response, he led me right into it. I sang a bit under my breath as I did a triple step underneath his arm. He even remembered the variation I’d taught as a challenge, where the man scooted underneath the arm as the lady was turning back. His steps were still too big and he wound up so far away from me that we were only touching by our fingertips.

  “I’m impressed,” I said as he took me back into dance position. “Are you sure you’re only a gardener? No secret ballet lessons as a boy?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Definitely not. But I used to box competitively.”

  I thought about my tai chi background. “That would help explain it.”

  “And I might have taken some yoga lessons.” At my surprised look, he continued, “Lots of boxers do, although we don’t tend to advertise it. Not manly, you know. But yoga helps us avoid injuries by building up flexibility and stamina.”

  I noticed he still considered himself a boxer. “You don’t box anymore?”

  He started doing a series of basic steps, probably so he could manage to talk to me at the same time. “I left the competition scene years ago. But I still coach kids every weekend. Keeps them off the streets, gives them a place to put all that aggression.”

  “Why did you stop?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “My dad was a cop and got shot in the line of duty. Didn’t have time for a lot of things after that.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I thought about Ma. “My mother died when I was fourteen. Things were never the same afterward.”

  The music faded away. Ryan held on to my hand. “So, are you teaching students now?”

  “I’m still being trained.” Although I really liked him, I had to be honest. “You might want someone more experienced.”

  “No, you’ll do. You’ll be saving my girlfriend’s toes too.”

  Of course he had a girlfriend. I wasn’t disappointed, why should I be? I swallowed. “You should bring her with you to the lessons.”

  “She’s studying in California, but she’ll be back for the wedding.”

  “All right, then. I’ll get you ready for her.”

  —

  Zan was sprawled on Mo Li’s bare floor, while I had my legs curled up on her bed. Mo Li was back for Christmas vacation. She always wanted Zan and me to e-mail her when she was away, but neither of us had easy access to a computer. Whenever she came home, Zan and I rushed to see her and catch up on all that we had missed. Her parents weren’t home again, since they were usually working on Saturday evenings.

  Mo Li was digging in her suitcase for something. “Here they are!” She pulled out two large packages and tossed them to us.

  I looked at the bright red logo through the wrapping. She’d given us Boston University sweatshirts. “Wow.” I took mine out of the plastic. The material was soft and heavy. “This must have been really expensive.” We usually got each other things like candles or drugstore cosmetics. Zan tended to make her own things. I still had an embroidered heart with my name on it that she’d given me in high school.

  Mo Li said, “I’m on all kinds of scholarships and working jobs on top of it. Besides, I’ll be a lawyer soon and then I’ll rake in the big bucks. Zan, do you like it?”

  I looked at Zan, who was rubbing her sweatshirt against her cheek. The smile she gave me was strange, and then I recognized the emotion on her face as jealousy. There was something new in between us. Things were changing for Mo Li, and now for me too, but not for Zan, with her dreams of driving away out of Chinatown.

  Before Mo Li could notice, I said, “Mo Li, what happened with your ma’s naturalization test?”

  She broke out in a grin. “She passed! And you know why?”

  “Because you helped her prepare so well?”

  “Nah, she didn’t learn anything. I think it was because I kept jumping up and down outside the examiner’s door. The window was set so high, I couldn’t see through it otherwise, and I was so worried about my ma. The examiner finally opened the door and told me to either get a step stool or take a seat in the waiting area. I could tell he was trying not to laugh, though. I think he just felt sorry for us and let her pass.”

  “Thank goodness for kind examiners.” I thought of Lisa. “I wish there was something like that for the Hunter test.”

  “How’s that going for your sister?” Zan asked.

  I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She’s practicing on her own, as always. I tried to help her but I just couldn’t understand the questions. I think my uncle’s doing some exercises with her too, but it’s hard for them to find time at his clinic. Her other friends have parents and classes and stuff to help them prepare.”

  Mo Li shook her head. “No one expects you to be her mother, Charlie.”

  “I know. It’s just there’s no one else. Pa, well, you know how he is. He’s off in his own world and so busy trying to make ends meet. I wish I could do more for her. She’s not happy, something’s wrong. I can feel it. If I don’t fix it, who will?”

  We were all quiet for a moment. Then Mo Li said, “Hey, Zan, what’s up with that learner’s permit anyway?”

  A big smile spread across Zan’s face. “I passed the written test! I was waiting to tell you.”

  Mo Li and I whooped. Then Zan deflated again. “But I don’t know what to do now. I guess it’s the real reason I put off taking the written test for so long, because I knew I’d hit a dead end after that.”

  “What do you mean?” Mo Li asked.

  “It’s no use.” Zan echoed my past words. “Who’s going to teach me to drive? I could never afford a driver’s ed course. No one I know has a car. They wouldn’t be willing to risk my driving it even if they had one.”

  I regretted all of the realistic things I’d ever said to her. “No, you were right. You can do it, you just have to take things one step at a time.”

  “You think?”

  “Look, whoever would have thought that I’d be doing what I am now? I don’t know what’s going to happen to me but I’m just trying my best day by day
. Believe me, if I can become a dancer, anyone could do anything.”

  Zan sighed. “I’m just the girl at the food cart and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

  Mo Li said, “Ridiculous. One day, you’ll be waving at us from some big old truck.”

  Slowly, Zan smiled. “Yeah. Hasta la vista, baby!”

  Mo Li said, “In honor of this occasion, I’m going to make us some microwave popcorn to celebrate.”

  As we followed her into the galley kitchen, Zan said, “Oh, have you heard about Grace? She’s in deep trouble.”

  I thought back to the meeting with the Yuans at the Benevolent Association. “What’s happened?”

  “Her mother caught her in bed.”

  “No!” Mo Li put a hand to her mouth. We all hid our sex lives from our parents. Until we were married, there could be no exceptions. I wondered if Grace had been found with Winston.

  Zan continued, “With a girl.”

  Mo Li and I both screamed. “I never knew Grace liked girls,” I said.

  Zan shrugged. “I don’t know the details. I only heard her mother stopped by her dorm at Brooklyn College unexpectedly and caught her. Now the family’s planning to marry her off, as soon as possible. They say she’s too wild.”

  “She has the right to have a girlfriend if she wants,” said Mo Li.

  I felt bad for Grace. I didn’t want to imagine how Pa would react if he ever found out my secrets. “I agree, but her parents will move heaven and earth to get her tied down to a guy now.”

  “Speaking of men,” Mo Li said, “I have a mission this Christmas vacation.”

  Zan and I groaned. We knew Mo Li and her projects. She got her heart set on something and we all had to do it. Last time, she’d dragged us all to a karaoke club and made us do vodka shots before singing. Thankfully we were in our own private booth. I didn’t really like the taste of alcohol and none of us had any aptitude for singing. Not at all. It was awful.

  Mo Li said, “Next week, we are going to Decadence.” Decadence was an Asian nightclub on the outskirts of Brooklyn Chinatown. Rumor had it that all kinds of wild things happened there.