by Charles Yu
“Just for a while. A few weeks. Maybe a couple of months.”
“A couple of months?”
“Tops.”
So she goes. And you keep working. A few weeks turns into a couple of months which turn into several. Several months turns into a year. More. That creeping feeling. Karen was right. Something you’ve known all along, maybe. It’s never going to happen. You should quit now.
A glimmer. A glimpse of a life outside this. And then, perfect timing, right when you start to seriously consider for the first time in your life an existence outside of Chinatown, the phone rings and it’s the director and he says the words you have been waiting to hear all your life.
Congratulations.
You are:
KUNG FU GUY
No Karen here to share the moment. You’re alone. You got exactly what you wanted. Didn’t you? Or did they give it to you. The thing you thought you wanted. The role of a lifetime is one you can never bring yourself to quit. Karen was right: you are trapped. Doing well is the trap. A different kind, but still a trap. Because you’re still in a show that doesn’t have a role for you.
INT. GOLDEN PALACE CHINESE RESTAURANT
You’re standing by the food table. It’s this table of food. You can eat the food. No one’s counting. But you also don’t want to embarrass yourself. It’s easy to embarrass yourself. They have everything: little finger sandwiches cut into triangles or squares, roast beef or smoked turkey or cucumber tomato for the vegetarians or pretend vegetarians, heaping mounds of curry chicken salad and shrimp salad and tarragon pasta salad, all kinds of foods in stick form, carrot sticks, celery sticks, zucchini sticks, cubes of cheese (three colors, although to be honest you can’t tell the difference), and that’s not even getting into the desserts. Pyramids of brownies and blondies and dainty miniature red velvet cupcakes and vegan versions of all of the above. Snickerdoodles as big as your head. Candy, gum, mints, coffee, tea, soda. Sometimes if the day goes long, they’ll bring out a surprise: Korean tacos stuffed with bulgogi and kimchi slaw. Handmade ice cream sandwiches. You’re standing there, stuffing greasy cold cuts into napkins, sneaking balled-up meat bombs into the pockets of your kung fu pants, a meal that you can sneak back at the end of the day. You stop to consider what you are doing. Still playing a part that was handed to you, written for Asian Man. You understand: you’ve made a mistake. The biggest mistake of your life. Man. You screwed up. You need to go find your family. How do you get out? You can’t go out the front door. You sneak out the back.
EXT. ALLEY
You look up at the billboard. BLACK and WHITE. You can’t be a part of this anymore. Their car is parked there. A getaway car for you—now on the run. You jimmy the lock, hotwire the ignition, and you’re off. Driving off. Behind you, you hear sirens. You step on the gas and lose them.
Local Chinese children were also dressed as rural peasants by day to add to the ambience. By night they changed back into their normal Western clothes.
Bonnie Tsui
When…an outsider happens upon a performance that was not meant for him…the performers will find themselves temporarily torn between two possible realities.
Erving Goffman
ACT V
KUNG FU DAD
INT. CHILD’S BEDROOM—MORNING
Upbeat music jangles and jumps!
SINGING CHILDREN
We’re up, we’re up, we’re happy.
Phoebe Wu sits up in bed, stretches her arms, her yawning mouth a perfect O.
SINGING CHILDREN (CONT’D)
Rise and shine, Phoebe Wu!
INT. BATHROOM—MORNING—MOMENTS LATER
Phoebe, now dressed, brushing her teeth, singing along.
INT. KITCHEN—MORNING—A LITTLE LATER
Phoebe enters the kitchen, singing.
PHOEBE
(singing)
Xie Xie Mei Mei!
SINGING CHILDREN
(echoing)
Xie Xie Mei Mei!
PHOEBE
Bu iong xie!
Phoebe, backpack on now, lines up with children of identical heights, large heads and tiny bodies, bobbing along.
Singing children. Phoebe joins, in step, in key, as they file into the bus, heads bobbing, off to school:
SINGING CHILDREN
Xie Xie Mei Mei!
Xie Xie Mei Mei!
It’s a cartoon. Sort of.
Real people against an animated backdrop, a show about a little Chinese girl, Mei Mei (little sister), and her adventures in a new country.
The country is geographically unique and logically impossible, some amalgam of dynastic China, a Taiwanese village in the olden days (before imperial colonizers!), and some focus-group-tested, aesthetically engineered, perfect mythical U.S. suburb. Location, location, location, three of them, composited into one perfect synthesis incorporated and flattening, the world as a children’s illustrated atlas, primary colors and rounded edges, smoothing out the map, blurring the boundaries and natural barriers, an optimistic amnesiac’s retelling of the age-old story of immigration, acculturation, assimilation.
Mei Mei can move freely between these places, just by stepping through a doorway, into the next room. Space and time, apparently, being highly malleable, as Mei Mei navigates her new country, learning words for foods, and places, questions (“Where is the bathroom?” and “How much are the squash?”), directions (“Turn left for the police station, turn right for the bank”).
Strangers are friendly, for the most part, and why not, given Mei Mei’s pink-cheeked post-toddler disposition, precocious for a five-year-old but still innocent enough to not have encountered anyone at school who might make fun of her short-sleeved flowered silk shirt, or, even more likely, recoil at the smell of the fermented black beans in the lunch box her a-kong packed for her.
Xie Xie Mei Mei, you sing.
Xie Xie Mei Mei, the other kids sing.
INT. PHOEBE’S ROOM—MORNING
Phoebe opens the door to see you standing there.
PHOEBE
Daddy!
KUNG FU DAD
Phoebe.
PHOEBE
I haven’t seen you in so long.
KUNG FU DAD
I know. I’m sorry.
PHOEBE
I asked Mom why we couldn’t visit. She said you were busy.
KUNG FU DAD
I missed you.
(looking around)
This place is not how I imagined it.
She jumps into you for a quick hug.
KUNG FU DAD
Oof. You got heavy.
(then)
Where did the years go?
KAREN (O.S.)
Nice of you to drop by, Will.
Karen appears in the window.
KUNG FU DAD
Karen—wow, holy shit, you look great. Like really great.
PHOEBE
Oops Daddy! You said a grown-up word!
SINGING CHILDREN (O.S.)
He said a grown-up word!
KUNG FU DAD
Sorry.
(to the children)
I shouldn’t have said that.
KAREN
Nice of you to say, Will, although fairly inappropriate on all fronts.
Phoebe is leading the singing children in a single-file line, getting ready for the next segment.
KUNG FU DAD
(re: Phoebe)
She’s, like, a person now. When did she get so big?
KAREN
Time flies when you’re doing the kid show.
K
UNG FU DAD
It’s a lot to process. I just learned that my daughter is this amazing person.
KAREN
We’re all learning a lot. But mostly just you. Speaking of which:
(leads children in song)
And now it’s learning time!
KUNG FU DAD
I don’t want to sing.
KAREN
Learning time is a special time, learning time is—
KUNG FU DAD
No, seriously.
KAREN
Learning is a serious matter. Try to keep up. You’ll figure it out.
PHOEBE
So, what are we going to learn about today?
KUNG FU DAD
I…don’t know. I guess I could show you some kung fu moves?
Phoebe laughs. Karen looks concerned.
PHOEBE
Haha, Daddy is silly, isn’t he?
KAREN
(deadpan)
He sure is. A silly, silly man.
PHOEBE
I like kung fu. But we usually save physical activity for our Move Your Body segment!
KAREN
This is the part where we learn songs and rhymes with positive messages about tolerance and inclusion!
CHILDREN (O.S.)
Yay!
PHOEBE
And culture and food and vocabulary!
CHILDREN (O.S.)
Yay! Yay! Yay!
KUNG FU DAD
Tell me one thing. In this story, are we together?
KAREN
No, Will. That was your choice.
PHOEBE
Divorce is a part of life!
KUNG FU DAD
(to Karen)
They talk about divorce on this show?
KAREN
You need to watch more kids’ shows.
PHOEBE
I have two parents and they love me just as much. Now I have two homes instead of one.
CHILDREN (O.S.)
Sometimes grown-ups need to make hard choices!
KAREN
Maybe we should talk. Privately.
KUNG FU DAD
Is there somewhere we can go?
INT. PHOEBE LAND—GROWN-UP TALKING PLACE
You peek out the window. All clear.
KAREN
You just show up here? After all this time?
KUNG FU DAD
I missed you. I mean her. Phoebe.
(re: Phoebe Land)
How did this happen?
KAREN
You said you didn’t want her to grow up in the SRO.
KUNG FU DAD
But. This place?
KAREN
You lost the right to make that decision.
(then)
I’m going to leave you to get to know your daughter now. If you take her outside to play, make sure to put sunscreen on her.
A muffled whimper out of Phoebe. She does this thing, when she gets nervous, a tiny clearing of her throat, almost a squeak, usually twice, maybe four times, always in twos. Self-comforting. You look over at your daughter.
KUNG FU DAD
Didn’t realize you were there, honey.
PHOEBE
It’s okay.
KUNG FU DAD
Also, sorry for being a, uh, crappy dad.
PHOEBE
It’s fine. You tried.
KUNG FU DAD
Do you want to play something?
PHOEBE
We need to retreat to the castle!
Phoebe runs off, the sobs trailing after her now, bursting into full-fledged running and crying.
KUNG FU DAD
The castle?
INT. CASTLE (AKA PHOEBE’S CLOSET)—DAY
You follow the sound of her talking to herself, climbing up a tower, the winding staircase narrowing as it ascends, until you come to a door just big enough for you to crawl through.
The door is ajar, and from the room inside, you catch Phoebe, mid-story.
PHOEBE
(softly, to herself)
…and I’ll have a store where I sell things I make. I will make a comic book and I am going to sell it, and if I make something else, I will sell it, too. I will sell things for a dollar or a hundred dollars but if you have no money I will sell things to you for a penny and you can give me the penny whenever or you don’t have to give me a penny, I will sell it to you for no money and I will give you a hundred dollars. Daddy said he will help me with the store…
She pauses, for a breath.
PHOEBE (CONT’D)
He is busy working right now but he is smart and tall and when he is done working on the weekend we will work on setting up the store. Also at the store we will sell stuffed animals and if you buy a stuffed animal we will donate the proceeds to help animals that get killed for their tusks and horns like elephants and rhinos…
Watching her is like finding old letters, of things you knew thirty years ago and haven’t thought of since. How to feel, how to be yourself. Not how to perform or act. How to be.
You survey the room: drawings, hair ties, notes to herself. Seemingly every species of stuffed animal or creature, real or imagined, lined up like a royal court along the walls on the floors. Her friends, her audience. Her off-screen voices. She seems both more resourceful and yet more childlike at the same time—how she’s invented a world, stylized, so that its roles and scenery, its characters and rules, its truths and dangers, all fit within one room. How small it is, and overstuffed, and ready for expansion. How bright it is, how messy. This whole place, the objects in it, all from her.
KUNG FU DAD
You made all of this.
PHOEBE
(shy)
Yeah.
KUNG FU DAD
How did you do it?
PHOEBE
Do what?
KUNG FU DAD
Build a castle. Build a whole world.
PHOEBE
Oh. Like this.
She shows you, using what she has. Small rounded kid scissors. Scraps of fabric. Glue, tape, a binder clip, some string. Strips of paper on which she labels her world, names for everything written carefully in neat cursive that wanders around the page.
She pauses. She’s a thoughtful kid. Already better at this than you are. You can already see the day when you’ll have aged into your next role, when you’ll put on the old-man suit. You’ll fumble, feeling the future slip away, and she’ll still be young, moving away from you with every moment.
PHOEBE
The thing about building a castle in the air is it’s easy. You build up. It’s like a little ladder, then you start building a castle in the air. Then, you destroy the ladder. And your castle is floating.
KUNG FU DAD
Why do you need the ladder in the first place?
PHOEBE
Dad!
KUNG FU DAD
Sorry. Is that a dumb question?
PHOEBE
There are no dumb questions.
CHILDREN (O.S.)
There are no dumb questions!
KUNG FU DAD
Thanks honey. And thanks, weird children that I am unable to see.
PHOEBE
You can’t just build in the air.
KUNG FU DAD
Right. Of course.
PHOEBE
It’s not connected to anything. So you build a bridge to the
air, then you can break that bridge. But nothing falls down.
KUNG FU DAD
Makes sense. That’s cool.
PHOEBE
See, this is a big pig face I built in the air. It’s a huge head of a huge pig and it’s huge.
KUNG FU DAD
I like that.
Phoebe smiles. Then frowns.
PHOEBE
Okay, I’m done with this. I want to draw now.
KUNG FU DAD
I’ll watch you draw.
PHOEBE
I don’t feel like drawing anymore. I just want to sit with you here.
KUNG FU DAD
That’s okay, too.
The words coming out of your mouth, you can feel it happening, how you’re softening, changing into a different person. You were a bit player in the world of Black and White, but here and now, in her world, you’re more. Not the star of the show, something better. The star’s dad. Somehow you were lucky enough to end up in her story.
INT. PHOEBE’S ROOM—NIGHT
The truth is, she’s a weirdo. Just like you were. Are. A glorious, perfectly weird weirdo. Like all kids before they forget how to be exactly how weird they really are. Into whatever they’re into, pure. Before knowing. Before they learn from others how to act. Before they learn they are Asian, or Black, or Brown, or White. Before they learn about all the things they are and about all the things they will never be.
PHOEBE
Wanna know what I’m afraid of?
KUNG FU DAD
Sure.
PHOEBE
I’m afraid of five things.
KUNG FU DAD
Only five?
PHOEBE
Five is a lot!
KUNG FU DAD
Okay, let’s hear them.
PHOEBE
Secret passages.
KUNG FU DAD
That’s one.
