Mambo in Chinatown

by Jean Kwok

  I said, “Mo Li, sometimes I think you’re shallow.”

  Zan giggled. Mo Li answered with dignity, “No, I’m exploring what it means to be American.”

  Zan and I looked at each other.

  Then Mo Li said, “My Korean friend says that the most important thing we need to do to get in is to dress really slutty.”

  Twelve

  The following Saturday evening, we all met at Mo Li’s house again. Zan and I had told our parents that we were sleeping over at Mo Li’s house since her parents wouldn’t be home anyway. That way, no one would worry when we were out until late. We would sneak back into Mo Li’s apartment before her parents returned in the morning from their night shifts.

  The three of us considered each other. We were sorely lacking in sluttiness. Since Mo Li had gone away to college, she’d developed a funky style of her own when she made the effort. She was wearing a fashionable short dress with shiny boots, but Zan had on pants with a high-necked flowered blouse that must have belonged to her mother, and I’d chosen one of Adrienne’s simple dresses.

  Mo Li said, “Well, at least it’s the winter so we’ll have our coats buttoned up anyway. They probably won’t be able to see much on the street.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?” Zan asked.

  “The bouncers,” Mo Li said. “They decide who gets in and who stays out.”

  I said, “Is that even legal?”

  Mo Li said, “That’s New York nightclubs. My friend explained the whole system to me. When you’re in line, you need to put the skankiest-looking girl in the front.” She surveyed us. “That would be you, Charlie.”

  “Oh, thanks!” Now I looked like a bimbo. “You’re dressed cooler than I am.”

  “But I’m really short and chunky. You’re the sexiest.”

  Zan studied me. “You do seem different, Charlie.”

  In this context, I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not.

  Mo Li said, “We should get there just as it opens, when the line’s not too bad. We have to try to appear Korean.”

  “What?” I said.

  “We’re Chinese so we’re borderline acceptable, but if there are lots of Koreans in line, we probably won’t get in,” Mo Li said.

  “Why do we want to go to this place again?” I asked. In high school, the three of us had attended dances at school, and once in a while, we’d gone to parties other kids had given. None of us had ever been into the wild scene. We drank a bit, but said no when drugs, mostly pot, were passed around.

  Mo Li said, “It’s an experience. I went to a few clubs in Boston, but this type of pure Asian nightlife is really New York. Decadence’s infamous. I want to see it before I die.”

  “That sounds really scientific,” Zan said.

  “And I want to meet a cute guy,” Mo Li added. “We could use some action.”

  We all burst out laughing.

  —

  A few hours later, the three of us were freezing in the line for Decadence. Almost everyone there was Asian and many looked Korean. It wasn’t that crowded yet but we could see the two bouncers at the front choosing the people who got in. Most of the pretty Asian girls were admitted. Some of the guys entered too, especially if they were with an attractive woman. Almost all the non-Asians we saw were sent away. Other Asians were stopped too. I wasn’t sure why. As we drew closer to the front, I signaled Zan and Mo Li to try to listen in, so that we could maximize our chances of getting into the club.

  The bouncer said to two guys in front of us, “Do you have a reservation?”

  “Um, no,” one of the men answered.

  “Good-bye,” the bouncer said.

  The other man took the bouncer’s hand, shook it and said, “We’ve got the money.”

  Glancing at his hand, the bouncer said, “Three hundred dollars minimum per table.”

  The two men consulted each other, nodded and then were admitted.

  Mo Li squeaked, “Three hundred! I didn’t know you needed a reservation!” I shushed her so I could hear what the other bouncer was saying.

  The other bouncer was talking to another group consisting of three guys and two girls. Both girls were beautifully made-up. The bouncer didn’t ask them if they had a reservation. He just smiled and said, “You lovely ladies are welcome.” He then turned to the guys. One was paler than the others, his hair slicked back above his high cheekbones. The bouncer said to him, “You’re in too.” Then he addressed the two darker men, who seemed like they might be from Southeast Asia, and said, “No sneakers allowed.”

  Only one of them was wearing sneakers. That man said, “But he’s wearing sneakers too!” He pointed at the guy who’d been admitted.

  “They’re better sneakers,” the bouncer answered.

  “What about me, then?” the other man said.

  “Wrong type of shoes.” The bouncer shrugged. “Sorry.”

  The girls and guy who had been admitted started to protest, trying to get their friends in as well. The bouncer was adamant. Finally, the two rejected men gave up. As they walked away, one of them said, “At least we speak English. We’re not like all of the fucking super-FOBs you’ve got in there.” Their friends gazed after them for a moment, then ducked into the club.

  It was our turn. I felt Mo Li’s hand push me to the front. I looked at the bouncer and forced myself to smile. He smiled back, then turned to my friends. Zan was standing next to me, trying to appear friendly, but it looked more like she was grimacing. He started to frown. Then Mo Li opened her mouth and said something to him in Korean. Zan and I both stared. We had no idea Mo Li could speak Korean. She grinned and the bouncer laughed at a joke she must have made. He waved his hand and let us all in.

  As we stood in line inside for the cashier and coat check, Zan said to her, “When did you learn to speak Korean?”

  “In China.” Mo Li shrugged. “I speak Japanese and French too. I was supposed to become a diplomat if we hadn’t emigrated. Asian languages aren’t hard when you’re Chinese.”

  “Oh, what about for us then?” I said.

  “I mean, when you’re a real Chinese. I mean . . .”

  By then, we’d entered the main dance area and could hardly hear each other anymore. The DJ was blasting house music. The club was massive. A huge chandelier covered with glittering jewelry hung from the high ceiling. I’d heard it was a Decadence tradition for women to throw their bracelets and necklaces up there. The central dancing pit was ringed with tables, already teeming with men. A balcony above us was filled with tables and guys as well. I saw passageways leading to what Mo Li had told me were private lounges for larger groups. Some girls were dancing and a few men were flailing around on the dance floor. I almost laughed at what Dominic would say if he could see them. Mo Li bought one of their signature drinks, the Decadent Orgasm, which we shared. It tasted like gin and mango juice. Between the entry fee and the coat check, this night was already very expensive. We’d have to go easy.

  People were pouring in. Almost everyone was Asian and the few non-Asians were accompanied by groups of Asians. Everyone around us at the bar seemed to be speaking Korean. Strobe lights played across the shirts and hair of the people on the dance floor. Beautiful go-go girls stepped out onto raised podiums and began to dance a choreographed number while lights spelling out the name of the club flashed across the ceiling. The dancers were pretty good.

  I grabbed my friends’ hands and pulled them onto the dance floor. I wanted to do some real dancing before it became so crowded that all we’d be able to do was to jump up and down. Huge clouds of steam poured over us. I let the beat pound into me. Zan was leaping from foot to foot like she was jogging. Mo Li threw her fists around as if she were beating someone up. We grinned at each other and I loved all of it.

  I raised my arms and spun into a spiral. When I arched my back, my entire spine flowed. Whatever I f
elt, I could express. It was wonderful, like I could tap into a part of myself I’d never known existed before. I felt in control and free at the same time. The three of us danced song after song. Then I felt someone tap my shoulder, a waiter in a white shirt and bright blue pants. Had I done something wrong?

  He grabbed me by the wrist and started to drag me off the dance floor. I pulled back but he was very strong. Mo Li and Zan noticed and followed us. I looked around wildly to see that other girls were being taken away by other waiters as well, mostly under protest. The women all seemed to be scantily dressed. I wasn’t wearing anything like that, why was I in trouble?

  Then I realized the waiter wasn’t ejecting me from the club. He brought me to one of the tables, where a group of young men were sitting. They had a bottle of brandy and a plate filled with appetizers in front of them. The music was too loud for us to be able to talk. The waiter indicated I should sit, then he left. The guys grinned at me and, using hand gestures, offered me a drink. When they noticed Zan and Mo Li, they poured for them too. Now I understood why it cost three hundred a table. The waiters scanned the floor for pretty women, then brought them to the men. I almost wished there was someone there for me, and for moment, an image of Ryan’s face flashed across my mind. I shook my head, embarrassed at my thoughts. Well, none of the guys here were likely to want anything more than the obvious. I met Zan’s and Mo Li’s eyes. They’d caught on too. We smiled, shook our heads and went back onto the dance floor together.

  When we finally left Decadence, I was sure I had permanent hearing damage.

  Mo Li said dreamily, “Racism, sexism and stupidity all in one evening. What an experience.”

  —

  It was January and I was back at the studio, sitting in the teachers’ room. By now, I was used to the dancers stripping down. I always changed in the ladies’ room but the others often stood in front of one another in their underwear. Viktor now wore no shirt and polka-dotted boxer shorts. He was so thin you could see his ribs. Katerina giggled and pinched his bottom.

  “What is it with the two of you today?” Simone asked. “Did you have great sex last night?”

  Viktor winked. “Even better,” he said. “We had great rehearsal this morning.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Katerina said, “That is right. Coaching with Julian. He is a genius.” I watched as she danced back to her own locker, singing to herself in Russian. I thought of Julian and felt a sudden pang of longing for a boyfriend and partner of my own. Men had started noticing me and I felt more attractive, more conscious of my body, but it made me lonelier too.

  “What happens if you don’t fall in love with your partner?” I asked her.

  Katerina shrugged. “Why would you not?”

  Mateo said, “Honey, even I have slept with my partners. I couldn’t stomach it anymore. That’s why I stopped competing, until I met Chastity-Belt Nina here.”

  Nina drew a cross over her body, then pretended to lock herself up and throw away the key. “No one gets into these pants anymore. Your virtue is safe with me.”

  To my surprise, Simone started talking. Her limpid eyes blinked rapidly as she spoke, and it was like she couldn’t keep the words inside. “You do everything with your partner. It’s not like you start out the best of friends but you rehearse together, you train every day, you put together your routines. And when you’re dancing together, you’re constantly trying to create the illusion of romance and passion.”

  Nina said slowly, “It’s a real head trip. It often makes your professional relationship better if you don’t have all of the personal junk clouding it up. Sometimes that illusion we’re trying to create takes over. We can wind up so . . . ballroom. You know.” She struck a series of dramatic poses, with her face going from anguish to elation. “That’s what I like about your dancing, Charlie. You’re real.”

  It was almost time for the next class. Most of the dancers trailed out until it was only me and Nina. She was tightening the straps of her Latin shoes.

  “Does Julian have a girlfriend?” I asked, attempting to sound casual.

  “He might be in between right now, but he’s a serial monogamist, you know what I mean? The last girlfriend was some jet-setter from Spanish aristocracy. He’s never going to settle down, but at least he’s stopped dating dancers.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Well, whichever woman he picked would shoot into the stratosphere with her dancing, so it was great for her, but it exhausted everyone, wondering who would be the lucky one this season.” Nina stood up. “He’s very attractive.”

  “I know. I’ll be careful.”

  “It’s the nature of the business. When it comes to the professionals, it’s a meat market out there. Even good people like Dominic and Adrienne will try to set you up with another pro. It’s like date-a-dancer. They have the best intentions but this world will swallow up everything you have if you make the wrong choices. Believe me, I know. And remember that students are forbidden fruit.”

  —

  Lisa’s nightmares had become so bad now that she woke screaming on some nights. I knew the Hunter test was approaching but this was too extreme, especially since she seemed calm about the exam when we spoke. Pa asked Uncle Henry to stop by our place over the weekend, sending Lisa out on an invented errand before he arrived. Uncle shook off his navy wool coat as he came in, appearing out of place in our old apartment with his pressed shirt and expensive shoes. I felt grateful we had someone like him in our family and hoped he could help Lisa.

  Pa poured Uncle our finest white tea, in the porcelain set he reserved for company. He also set out a dish with sugared lotus seeds, candied winter melon and dried ginger dipped in red sugar.

  “What is your opinion?” Pa asked.

  “She’s at an age where there are many changes,” Uncle Henry said. “With those young girls, it is normal that she has some trouble sleeping at night sometimes.”

  “She’s not just scared when she wakes up, she’s stiff with terror,” I said.

  “I have never seen Lisa like this,” Pa said.

  Uncle Henry frowned, thinking.

  “She needs help,” I said.

  “There are many possibilities at my clinic,” Uncle said. “But probably your best chance is the Vision of the Left Eye.”

  “You’re sending her to the witch?” I asked. “I thought you’d recommend a specialist. Maybe someone she could talk to about her problems.”

  They both waved their hands at me dismissively. Uncle Henry said, “People like psychiatrists are a bunch of quacks. She needs a professional.”

  I was silent. Uncle was a successful healer. What did I really know about such things?

  “I’ve seen it before,” Uncle Henry said. “Those therapists won’t do any good. They’ll just ask her about her childhood and all kinds of other nonsense. I think the Vision should start by doing a Release of Life. Then, if necessary, we can consult her further.”

  “You’re absolutely right, older brother,” Pa said.

  “She has a very bright future ahead of her,” Uncle said. “She’s not like those other kids who were born here. Sometimes they have less ambition than someone fresh off the boat.”

  I looked down. I had ambition, I just hadn’t been given a chance to draw upon it, but it was still worthless in the context of my family. Even if Uncle and Pa knew I was a ballroom dancer now, they wouldn’t think it was an acceptable profession for a girl. Better that I’d be an accountant or pharmacist.

  Pa said, “There’s nothing wrong with being born here. Charlie’s doing wonderfully at her computer firm.”

  I managed a wan smile.

  Uncle said, “Yes, that’s very good, but the ambition and drive that we had, it’s watered down in the later generations. I just see those young kids hanging out on the street and I think, ‘What a waste.’ They have it
so easy and still do so little with it all. They have the English skills. They know how to fit in. But determination is more important than any of those things. When I first arrived in America, I worked day and night just to make ends meet.”

  “Pa still does that,” I said.

  “Well, we need to aid Lisa. I’ve been having Dennis help her study whenever he’s free. I’ll start working with her more myself.” Uncle paused a moment. “It’s imperative that she find some peace, especially with the school test coming up in a few weeks. When you talk to the Vision, Charlie, make sure she knows I sent you.”

  —

  The police had become much stricter in public places, but I knew that on most Saturday mornings the Vision would be at the edge of Gossip Park, telling fortunes. She sat on a park bench, huddled in a purple down coat, with her assistant, Todd, standing behind her. Despite the bitter cold, there was a crowd gathered around her. I nodded at Todd, then I held out my gloved hand, showing her the sealed red money envelope.

  “Mrs. Purity, Pa asks you to perform a Release of Life for Lisa and me, as soon as possible.” Pa had decided that he might as well cover me too, as long as we were consulting the witch anyway. He said it was well worth the extra cost, although the expense worried me.

  The Vision of the Left Eye indicated the group of people around me. “I am very busy right now, tell him I speak to him soon.”

  I’d been prepared for this. “My Uncle Henry asks you to help us as well. It’s urgent.”

  The witch tapped a finger against her cheek. “Come back before twilight.”

  Things were confusing when she got all mystical. “Do you know what time that is?”

  “Try four o’clock,” Todd said. “Bring a photo of the person you want to help too.”

  When I came back with Lisa’s photo in my bag, I had to wait another half hour while the Vision finished with her customers. I stomped my feet to keep warm. Todd was still waiting behind her, leaning forward to whisper with her once in a while.