Steven would never admit it to Julia, but she was correct, her Pancit wasn't as good as Gilberto's. He thought he knew the reason, too. "No, do you want to know what I think, sister?"
"Of course I do, wise kuya, and please enlighten me with your seasoned, elder knowledge," she answered.
He thought about picking something up to toss at her. That's what he would have done ten years ago, but he was no longer a child. "It's his tongue, sister. Nothing more than his tongue…well, that and his superior memory."
"I think you're right, Kuya. Papa could take a taste of adobo and tell the meat, the age of the meat, the spices in the basting, the type of wood used for the grilling…even the age of the vinegar and how many bay leaves had been used," Julia answered.
Steven laughed again, "Well I don't know whether he can tell the number of bay leaves, but maybe you're right. He has a great sense of taste anyway. There is nothing random about what he adds to his recipes. It is all calculated out in his head with input from tongue and nose.”
She brought him a large bowl of her Pancit, taking only a small portion herself with a glass of water. "I can neither sing nor wear that blue sequined number on a full stomach."
She was taking him out to the jazz clubs later. She wasn't working tonight, but she explained that if anyone at the clubs they would visit knew her, they might ask her up on stage to sing a number. With a wink, she added, "I always accept. There's no better advertisement than a short, live commercial."
Touring With The Singer 1982
The first place Julia wanted to go was a new place in the Western district by the bund, a waterfront area in central Shanghai. Well, new wasn't the right word, from what Steven could see, but Julia said, "New ownership, Kuya, new ownership."
The "Can You Do This In F Sharp" was a club recently opened in a derelict building off a dirty alley. Steven stood as tall as his five feet five inch frame would allow and slipped his arm around his little sister as she led him down the dark street. She just looked at him and laughed when he did this. "Do not be afraid, my kuya," and she hugged his arm around her waist. When she rapped on a non-descript door and asked the eye that looked at her through the peek-a-boo security opening responding to her knock for entrance, in Shanghainese, the door immediately opened to a dimly lit, smoky room.
"What's that smell?" Steven asked her. It was opium, of course. He was familiar enough with it from his youth and from some of his ports of call, but he didn't know if his baby sister knew it or not.
"Hush, Kuya, don't get us thrown out of here. I've wanted to come since they opened, but it's a bit of a tough neighborhood, even for me." She snickered at this because she knew her kuya was impressed with her self-sufficiency.
"They just opened a few weeks ago and I've heard they're paying top dollar so they can attract the investors from the west after they're tired of working." She pulled him by the hand, like he was her date, and he guessed he was, in a way. That way in which she could concentrate on herself and not on fighting off lecherous advances all night.
Steven waved a server over and asked for a beer and a white wine. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir! We only have champagne for the lady! You like some champagne for her?" The very young Chinese girl had tried the speech in Chinese first and when Julia completely ignored her and Steven just repeated his order, she tried it in English.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry then. Nothing for now." And he waved her away. Three minutes later she was back with a can of Budweiser and a glass of some sort of white wine.
"Five dollars."
"No dollars, Yuan?" Number one, he didn't have dollars and number two…five dollars for a beer and a wine? Where did she think she was, Paris?
A frown and a huff came over her face and she repeated, "Five dollars!"
He did his own multiplication and put twenty Yuan on her tray and turned back to his sister. It must have been enough because the server turned around and continued trying to sell her champagne.
Meanwhile, Julia struck up a conversation with the piano player, who was nursing his own beer at a table near the front of the stage. She was laughing at his jokes and he was becoming more animated with each exaggerated wave of her head and smile. His smile disappeared when Steven walked up and put his arm around Julia's waist.
She unwound his arm and introduced him. "Lenny Chen, this is my older brother, Steven, who is still playing the protective role I assigned to him when we walked in the door."
She turned to Steven and patted his hand. "It's okay, Kuya, just relax and let me talk business."
The smile came back to Lenny the piano player's face and the two of them went back to speaking animatedly in Chinese. Later on, after the singers took their second break of the evening, Lenny exaggeratedly asked Julia if she would treat the crowd to a song.
"Of course I would, my old friend, how about 'Fly me to the Moon'?" Julia answered.
"Ah, I know it well, my dear!" The piano player responded.
Steven thought, "I suppose you do, you long fingered hustler, I heard it come up at least three times with my sister and you an hour ago during your little chat." He didn't know what he was getting worked up about. Lenny could certainly play the piano and his sister's voice took him back to his childhood. If he didn't busy himself with waving down the money grubbing server for another beer, he might have teared up listening to her sing.
#
"Seriously? We're going to another club? I usually go to bed by now if I'm not working or reading."
"Seriously, Kuya. There's two more I want to visit, at least." She pleaded with him, her dark brown, almond eyes twinkling while her smile said, "You know I will win, just give in."
"I guess that what I really meant was that if I'm not working or reading or listening to jazz I'm usually in bed." Taking her hand he helped her over to the door with the little peek-a-boo security system and they exited back to the grimy alley.
When they left the alley Julia waved down the first rickshaw she saw and chattered in her broken Chinese to them. Steven didn't understand much of anything, but he heard MJ Wangs mentioned several times and figured that's where they were headed next.
"How did you get this guy to run all the way over here, Sister?" The rickshaw driver was winded when he pulled them up to an only slightly less grimy entrance than the first club.
"I told him you were a wealthy sailor that tipped well, Kuya." Smiling, she stepped from the cab and headed to the entrance, leaving Steven to deal with the tired, but expectant runner.
The red door to this place was standing open and two ponytail sporting guys with black tee shirts and Levi jeans where standing, barefoot with their arms crossed, blocking the entrance. The more muscled one to the right of the door perked up when he saw Julia get out of the rickshaw, but frowned when he realized Steven was coming with her.
"Lok, sweetheart, how are you!" Julia greeted the frowning doorman with a kiss on both cheeks, after which she whispered in his ear. When she stepped away, the doorman smiled at Steven and winked at him as he walked inside.
"What was that all about?" Steven asked.
"Lok works a couple different places as security. He's very protective of me, but I told him you like guys. He does, too," Julia answered.
"What do you mean, he does, too? I mean I have guy friends, but I don't 'like' guys," Steven replied.
"Oh, Kuya, I'm just getting us in the door. Besides, I'm your baby sister, I don't care who you like." Julia smiled and dragged him through the door.
This place was different in a few ways from the last. "Why's it so smoky in here, Sis?" Steven asked.
Laughing, she replied, "Yeah, it's really funny smelling in here. That MJ must be a smoker," Julia replied.
"MJ…that's what the name means?" Steven said.
"Of course it does, silly," Julia replied.
This club was similar to the last one, except here the servers wanted to sell Steven hand rolled joints instead of beers. Being the well-seasoned sailor that he was, Steven was familia
r with most of the drugs of the day. He stayed employed by mostly avoiding them, but there wasn't much he hadn't tried or seen someone try.
Again Julia flirted with the piano player during his break, again he happened to ask her to sing and again they both happened to know "Fly Me to the Moon".
#
It was after 1:00 a.m. when Julia and Steven arrived at the third, and Julia promised, final club. It was starting to be more difficult to find rickshaws because there were a lot of people around. This seemed to be an area that was alive at night. Steven couldn't figure out if the crowd was coming or going and he guessed it didn't really matter.
This club was a bit more lavish on the outside, which is to say it didn't smell bad and was better lighted.
"Musically I don't know much about this one, Kuya. Be careful what you agree to once you're inside, though," Julia told him.
He almost responded with a joke, but glancing at his sister, Steven could see that she was serious and answered. "Okay, no problem. It's not like this is my first time in a foreign port."
They were greeted at the door by two very slender women. The one standing next to him wore a floor length, tight, white dress that sparkled when she moved. It started just above where Steven imagined her nipples must be and ended with just the slightest bit of material dragging on the floor. There wasn't any more space between her skin and the dress material than there is between a drink of milk and the glass it's poured into.
Julia elbowed him in the ribs. "Quit staring, Kuya, it isn't polite."
Steven turned to look at the woman standing next to Julia. She had a similar, slender body, but she was covered in what Steven figured was a very traditional and ornate Chinese dress. The women hooked arms through each of them and led them to a small table near the back of the area facing a stage. At the moment there were no less than a dozen women dressed in similar fashion to the traditionalist that escorted Julia to their table in the room.
Leaning over to whisper into Julia's ear, Steve said, "This doesn't look like jazz to me. Are you thinking of broadening your scope of work, sister?"
Julia looked sheepishly at him and replied, "I think I've been misled about this club, Kuya. I would not fit in here."
Laughing, Steven patted her forearm, "I would not care to have you fit in here, sister."
When the server, also dressed in traditional Chinese costume, came to their table, Julia turned to Steven with just a hint of a smile showing at the corners of her eyes, "I believe I have come down with a fierce headache, Kuya, shall I leave you here to enjoy yourself?"
Looking slightly aghast, Steven replied, "Are you crazy, I've been half asleep for two hours and besides, I'm not sure I'm up to the challenge of either skinning one of these alive or working my way through the traditional ties that bind."
The server bowed and replied, "Ah no, sir, traditional Chinese flower is very easily opened," as she smoothly pulled one string and the front of her dress fell open, exposing her flawless skin and delicate woman parts.
Julia almost came apart trying not to laugh at the bewildered look on her brother's face. He quickly tugged the sides of the server's robe back together. "I'm sorry, but we've got to leave now. As you can see my sister isn't feeling well and I must accompany her home safely." Even though they didn't eat or drink anything in this club, Steven's tip was double what he'd left at the last two places.
When the door closed behind them, Julia stood laughing so hard she couldn't speak for a few minutes. "Oh my God, Kuya. I thought you would fall over!" She chuckled one final time. "Your eyes were coming out of your head, when was the last time you saw a girl naked? …or a guy?"
The color rushed back to Steven's face and he hurried her along to what seemed to be a cab stand, "You hush, you. That's not something a little sister talks to her big brother about!"
"She was stunning, wasn't she?" Julia asked.
Again, Steven replied, "You hush, you," but this time it was a bit softer.
Boris Visits Shanghai 1982
The initial delivery from the Philippines to Shanghai was finally agreed upon. Boris was tight enough with the mayor after five years of faultlessly delivering what he needed that there was no written deal and no pre-shipment walk through. The mayor made it completely clear what the exports were and the window of opportunity. Well he also made it clear what the profit would be for Boris, and to Boris' relief, the mayor's estimate was within the acceptable range Boris had already set his mind on.
There was only one catch.
Boris was so close to being able to get his own boat capable of this voyage he could almost taste it. It was the proverbial cart before the horse thing though. Until he successfully finished this initial run he just couldn't swing the pesos. If he did a subcontract with another captain in the same business he ran a dual risk. Number one, the subcontractor might sniff out just how lucrative the business was and push the price up so high Boris could do the run and still not be able to swing the purchase of his new boat. Number two, an even a worse risk, the subcontractor would sniff out the potential for on-going business and make a successful or deadly run to take the entire business for himself.
No, he would have to do this first one on the sly as well as without being the captain of his own boat. There were two things working to his advantage in this case as well. Number one, his youngest sister, Julia, was living in Shanghai and singing in the bund district. Number two, she was standing in front of him at the moment.
"Sister, when are you going back to Shanghai?" He asked her.
Laughing, Julia took her hands out of the laundry she was poking into the sudsy water of the washing machine and said, "Really, Bori? If I had it my way I'd leave tomorrow!"
"Daughter! I'm only in the next room! I can hear you!" Gilberto apparently felt like he had to chime in on the answer he heard, "I've only asked for a tiny bit of help to clean this simple restaurant that has fed and clothed us all so well."
Julia answered her father as she winked at Boris, "Father, why is it then that I have been doing laundry non-stop for three days now! I dare say you have started a laundry service for the neighborhood bed and breakfast!"
This only resulted in a chuckle from the far room so Julia continued with Boris, "I must be back there in four weeks for the start of the jazz festival. On the other hand, I must stay here for two additional weeks, according to my residency requirements. Why do you ask, Bori?"
"Well I'd like to go with you, sister." Youngest brother and youngest sister were generally a close knit team. Among other things that brought them together, they were both planners and schemers and the two most determined of the four siblings.
Julia screamed and threw her arms around her brother. "I'm so glad you're finally going to come see me, Bori! You'll love it in Shanghai. The people, the culture, the food…it's all so great. I'll never get enough of it."
Returning to stuff the last of the laundry into the machine, she asked Boris, "But how will you come with me? Don't you have to make plans?" Boris knew it originally took her three months of going back and forth to get the deals brokered so she could go over and not slowly starve to death.
"My plans are made already, sister. All except for the travel and the hotel arrangements over there."
She smiled when he said it, and answered, “But Bori, these are the biggest plans to make. Luckily, I can help.” Hugging him, she continued. "You can travel with me; go tomorrow and get your tickets. You can stay with me for as long as you like. However, I don't know how long you'll like it. I live in a tiny walk up. It has running water but no air-con."
She couldn't afford much when she originally moved over there. She became friends quickly with a well-connected Filipino that had lived in Shanghai most of his life. She had already told Boris how he had helped her get the place. By now she said she’d gotten quite used to it.
Having tiny housing bills gave Julia much more money for clothes and parties, from the sounds of things. Now it was set, Boris would travel to C
hina with his lovely sister, who was at times back and forth more than once a year. She always went by boat because she grew up in an archipelago with sailors for brothers, friends and boyfriends. There should be no issue with baggage and everyone knew that check-in and customs was much less rigorous on a ship than is was on an airplane. The cargo he would carry over was quite heavy, but would be well concealed in luggage. Literally, he planned to make it part of the luggage. Boris wasn't too worried about the trip going over. He was moderately worried about the trip coming back.
#
The business of moving various Filipino artifacts of historical or monetary value had been picking up recently. "Maybe 'removing' was clearer," Boris thought, contemplating his new business model.
Between the reopening of China and the martial law that continued in his own country, the current window of opportunity made the process fairly straightforward, if you were smart, well connected, and had access to the infrastructure. No one was particularly worried about seemingly tiny movements between relatively unimportant Asian countries. More clearly, in the minds of non-Asians, between some relatively undeveloped archipelago with a relatively small population and another, albeit larger, Asian country that was mostly known for cheap knock-offs. The importance of the sea to individuals, as well as entire economies in the area, made it hard to trace each transportation vehicle, let alone each person arriving and departing.
Boris figured he was fairly smart and he was going to have access to his own infrastructure, a seaworthy boat to be specific, after this first operation. As soon as he acquired it his options would vastly expand, as would his wealth. He was very much on his own for this first delivery and return, though. The result would make or break him and he knew it.
His cargo going over was roughly eighty pounds of gold coins. He didn't know the specifics of where the mayor had aquired these actual coins, but he’d heard the stories Filipinos told about all the WWII bounty buried or lost by the retreating Japanese. Some called it the Yamashita hoards.
Game of Wit and Chance_Beginnings Page 8
