The First Excellence: Fa-Ling's Map

by Donna Carrick

  As was customary, Sun did not address Shopei, even though he understood she would make her own decisions, but instead directed his suggestion to the elder male, Master Long, for consideration.

  “This is not a bad idea, my friend,” Long said. “I will discuss it with my granddaughter and we will give you a decision.”

  “Do not delay,” Sun said. “The visa and passport must be used immediately.”

  “I want to stay here,” Shopei said, “with my grandfather.”

  “As I said,” Long insisted, “we will discuss it. There is no need for a hasty decision.”

  His voice was firm, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in approval.

  “Meanwhile,” he continued, “Sun, you must take Mr. Chan to the facility. He will travel as your nephew, wearing this.”

  Long reached into the pocket of his painting trousers and proudly pulled out a two-piece device. One of his secret passions was his fascination with modern electronics. He enjoyed gadgets of all kind, the more sophisticated the better. In fact, along with a seemingly endless supply of worn wooden chairs, his garden shed also housed an impressive collection of high-tech devices.

  He held out one of the new cell phones that were commonly seen on the streets, the type that could be attached to the user’s ear. It was mat-silver in colour, and was shaped in a raindrop pattern like half of the yin and yang symbol.

  Shopei explained to Randy in English he would need to wear the telephone on his right ear.

  “I already have a phone,” Randy said.

  “How does it work?” Sun asked.

  “This little phone holds a secret camera. There is a remote device to go in Randy’s pocket. Young people are always walking with their hands in their pockets. It will not appear strange for him to do so.”

  “What about the language problem?”

  “When you arrive,” Long said, “make a point of arguing with him. He is your nephew. You tell him he is there to assist you and to learn something of the real world. He should keep his eyes open and his mouth shut. Then if anyone speaks to him, he can give an angry look and let you answer for him. I doubt whether anyone will push the point.”

  “Very good,” Sun said. He held a top government position, and as such he was given access to almost any government location. Few people dared to question him. It was an excellent position for someone in his real line of work, as a procurer of false documents and transporter of escaped ‘prisoners of conscience’ for the Underground Railroad.

  Shopei translated Long’s instructions into English and explained to Randy how the hidden camera inside the cell phone worked. He turned the tiny remote control over in his hand.

  “Cool,” he said.

  “So,” Master Long said, “Shopei and I are going to prepare for supper. We will talk about my granddaughter’s future, and when you return we will give you our answer.”

  “Remember,” Sun said, “the documents will expire soon.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Randy followed Sun’s instructions, which were given in cheerful but almost incomprehensible English and accompanied by much pointing and waving of the hands. It would have made more sense for Sun to drive, since the older man knew the way and was accustomed to the noodle-crazy maze of traffic in Shanghai, but Randy was playing the role of ‘younger male relative’, and as such he would be relegated to the task of driving.

  They finally arrived at an impressive brown brick building, four storeys high with windows stacked in rows along the exterior. It looked like a warehouse, only taller. The grounds were neat and barren, a cracked cement walkway leading to the main door.

  Randy parked, then moved to a different space on Sun’s insistence. Before they got out of the car, Sun touched Randy’s elbow. He used one hand to zipper his mouth shut, and the other to point at Randy. The younger man understood.

  As they made their way into the building, Randy stayed a full pace behind his ‘uncle’, one hand wrapped carefully around the remote control device in his pocket. Sun was almost eight inches shorter than Randy, and yet keeping up with him was no small endeavour. Sun strode forward with youthful energy, no doubt the same thrust and drive that had carried him to the top levels of government. His cheerful demeanour was replaced by a look of determination. He was a man to be reckoned with.

  Randy had been warned the sights he was about to see would shock him. To react would jeopardise an operation Sun had developed and maintained for many years.

  Randy was there to fulfil the function of ‘human recorder’, nothing else.

  “Good afternoon,” Sun said in Cantonese.

  The young woman at the reception desk stood quickly and straightened her vest over her skirt, flashing a timid smile at the brusque bureaucrat.

  “I am Minister Sun from the Interior. I have an appointment with your Administrator. I may be early. Is he available?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she replied, daring to shoot a glance toward the handsome, angry young man at Sun’s side. “I will call Administrator Dong right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  The young woman asked them to have a seat, but sitting was not Sun’s way. He wandered around the lobby, studying photos of previous Administrators that lined the walls.

  Randy leaned against the front desk, his face the picture of youthful arrogance.

  “Minister Sun,” Dong said, extending his hand in the Western manner. Sun took his hand, shaking it lightly to indicate his disapproval. In truth, he didn’t mind in the least, but in his role as Minister of the Interior, it was important he maintain the appropriate attitude of superiority to his subordinates. Dong got the message. He withdrew his hand as if it had been scorched, offering a slight bow in its place.

  Sun smiled.

  “As you know,” he said, “my report is due at the end of this week, so I would like to see your operation today, rather than having to come back. I have other sites to visit while I am in town.”

  “Very good, Minister. I am at your service.”

  Dong led the way down an ornate hallway, painted soft yellow and adorned with red and gold banners. Between the banners were framed photographs of other government officials who had visited the site. They were pictured shaking hands with generations of Administrators, ending finally with a single shot of the new man, Dong, posing beside a minor Shanghai official whose name Sun could not remember.

  He would reward Dong after the tour by offering to pose with him in the great room. Such a photograph would be a valued prize for the ambitious Administrator.

  First things first. Sun followed Dong down the hallway and into the great room, which had been freshly scrubbed and decorated in honour of his pending visit. He nodded in approval, inspecting the velvet drapes, the polished window looking out over the parking lot, the podium where speeches of great consequence no doubt were regularly delivered.

  “Very nice,” he said, nodding his approval.

  “May I offer you something to drink?” Dong said.

  “No, thank you,” Sun replied. “My nephew and I had a large lunch. Besides, he is out of sorts, I’m afraid. His mother insisted he make this trip with me. He would have preferred to engage in his usual activities, but she would not have it.” Turning to Randy, he said, “Get your hands out of your pockets, Boy. Show some respect,” which command Randy ignored, turning away from the older man with contempt.

  “Young people!” Sun said cheerfully. “They will have their turn in the real world, won’t they?”

  “Oh, yes,” Dong said knowingly, grateful for the chance to develop a friendly bond with the Minister.

  “In any event,” Sun continued, “my nephew’s education will begin today. Perhaps a taste of the work done by men like yourself will help his feet to find the ground, eh? Come on, then. I did not come here to drink tea or to make conversation. I need to see the holding rooms, to make sure all are up to code. Are your people ready for inspection?”

  “They are, Minister. I hope you will find everything up
to standard.”

  “Let us at all times, Administrator, strive to surpass the standard, shall we?”

  “Yes, Sir. This way, Sir.”

  As Sun had expected, all prison cells had been scrubbed in anticipation of his visit. He chose three cells to enter for closer inspection, and saw no signs of vermin or lice. The bedclothes were clean, the slop buckets had been disinfected, and the prisoners themselves were freshly shaved and dressed in new jump-suits.

  However, there was no way to hide their emaciated bodies from view, the pallor that proved these unfortunate souls seldom if ever saw the sunlight, and the evidence of chronic malnutrition.

  “Excellent,” Sun said, nodding his head joyfully. “You have done a top job, Administrator. Well beyond standard, let me assure you.”

  Dong beamed, bowing his head in a show of false humility.

  After all, Sun reasoned, Dong had done a good job of preparing for the inspection. There were seldom any ‘snap’ inspections in China, as they would not produce the desired official reports. The government did not want to publish information that would reflect badly on itself, so it rarely put its minor officials in the hot seat, which might cause them to lose face. The only exceptions to that unwritten rule were those situations where the government wished to get rid of an errant official. In that case, an unexpected inspection would be ordered, and would naturally find the official to be grossly failing in his duties.

  Anyway, it was better these poor prisoners should have their cells cleaned occasionally for an inspection, than never at all.

  “Yes, indeed,” Sun continued, “most excellent. Thank you, Administrator. I will be sure to send you a copy of my final report. I believe you will be most pleased. And now, please, we have a flight to catch. I would like to have a quick look at your medical set-up.”

  Dong’s smile froze on his face and his eyes widened. He quickly recovered, meeting Sun’s cheerful gaze.

  “That is most unusual, Minister,” he said softly.

  “Nevertheless,” Sun said. “There have been complaints. An American organ recipient developed a case of Staphylococcus bacteria recently after returning home from Shanghai. He had to be hospitalised in Miami for four months while his body was flushed with antibiotics. This drew Western media coverage. It is attention we do not desire.”

  “I understand, Minister. You will not be disappointed with our medical unit. We have enlisted the top local students, under the supervision of a surgeon from Guangdong. I make an inspection myself on a weekly basis.”

  “I am pleased to hear that. It fits with my impression of your management. Please, let us get on with it.”

  “But Sir, we normally perform our surgeries in the afternoon. We will be interrupting procedures.”

  “Nonsense! We will not be intrusive. We will wear masks and gowns, of course. I must see this facility in order to complete my report. Besides,” he added slyly, winking at Dong, “it might improve my nephew’s disposition to see what happens to dissidents.”

  Dong laughed despite himself, charmed by the older man’s humour.

  “Very well,” he said. “Come along, then. We will have a look at the operating room.”

  He led the pair past the rows of sanitised cells, toward the far end of the building. As they passed one private cell, Randy’s attention was drawn to a young man squatting on his slop bucket. He appeared to be no more than fifteen or sixteen. Randy’s first instinct was to look away, to give the boy his privacy, but something desperate in the child’s eyes held his gaze.

  The boy spoke, holding out his hands in supplication. Of course, Randy did not understand the words, but he was moved by the childish voice. Suddenly he remembered Long’s warning, and caught himself before he could react. He turned away and followed Dong.

  Sun’s firm stride forced Randy to follow more quickly. Although the youth had spoken in his own ethnic Zhuang language, Minister Sun understood the desperately uttered words: Please tell my mother where I am. One day, he thought, there will be an end to these ‘lost’ children.

  At the back of the building they entered a large elevator designed to accommodate medical gurneys. It carried them slowly to the fourth floor. Sun smiled genially, patting Dong on the back and assuring him his errant nephew could take a lesson in ‘work ethic’ from the Administrator. He joked that perhaps, in the near future, he would convince his sister to stop spoiling the boy and let him work for a few months as Dong’s assistant.

  “No doubt he would benefit from being useful, don’t you think?” Sun laughed.

  Dong wisely kept his mouth shut, and waited for the elevator doors to open. He kept his fingers crossed, hoping the habitually drunk Feng, the celebrated Chief Surgeon from Guangdong, would be absent as usual. It would not do for Sun to make his acquaintance. Far easier to excuse him for the day due to illness or family emergency.

  As it happened Feng was present, but was about to leave for a smoke break. The elevator doors opened to find him on the other side.

  Dong made no attempt at introduction, exiting the elevator as quickly as possible and making room for Feng to step aboard. The two men made eye contact for the briefest instant, Dong’s message reaching the shaky surgeon. Feng pressed the ‘door close’ button, watching Dong lead Sun and the young man into the scrub room for gowns.

  That was close, Dong thought, hoping Minister Sun would not notice the stench of alcohol that followed the doctor.

  No doubt the celebrated Chief of Surgery, Sun thought, wrinkling his nose.

  FORTY-NINE

  Shopei dressed in the white cotton trousers and tunic known as the gi or dobok, complete with brown belt that had been handed down through many generations of Master Long’s students. In fact, Shopei, like her brother Dahui, had recently earned her black belt in Shaolin kung fu, but the brown belt was the only one Long had on hand, so it would have to do.

  She braided her hair in the old style, letting it fall down her back in a heavy pendulum.

  Long dressed in his usual Master’s tunic. He washed and greased his few strands of grey hair, brushing his teeth meticulously. He was secretly proud he had lost none of his teeth, knowing at his age dental health was a blessing. He attributed his good fortune to the mix of herbs and pre-boiled water with which he rinsed his mouth after each brushing.

  And so the two of them, the young girl and the old man, made a natural pair as they walked arm in arm away from the old quarter and toward the main street. Anyone seeing them would believe she was a good and dutiful granddaughter, respectfully guiding her addled, elderly relative toward his favourite restaurant.

  Long was partial to dim sum, though food had never been a point of focus for him. At the restaurant, he politely asked the hostess to seat them in one of the private booths. He wanted to talk openly to Shopei. The decision she reached today would affect the balance of her life. She must not be influenced solely by her heart, although in Long’s experience the heart, when balanced with reason, could be a good guide.

  They waited until the waitress brought tea.

  “Grandfather,” Shopei began, but stopped when he raised his hand.

  “Words, once spoken, cannot be easily retrieved,” he said. “Before you reach your decision, there are several factors we must discuss and consider carefully. If you take the documents from Sun, you will be guaranteed safe passage to New Mexico. You will have immediate US citizenship, a status that is priceless in today’s world. In six months, you can make arrangements to move to Boston, to be near Randy and his family. Family is the only true ‘gold’ to be had. Your relatives will take care of you. They know their duty.”

  “That is true. It would be exciting to live in America, and I have always had great respect for Aunt and Uncle. There is much to recommend my moving to America.”

  “There is great danger in remaining in China.”

  “And little motivation, other than revenge.”

  “Revenge is a futile fantasy,” Long said. “It will destroy the chi an
d waste the mind.”

  “I have little desire for revenge. Grandfather,” she said, turning earnest eyes toward the old man, “I respect you as my father did. May I not stay here and learn from you?”

  “I am old, Shopei. There will not be much time. If we rob you of this opportunity, only to discover that my own time is soon up, then what?”

  “There will be time. I can learn your medicine. I can help the travellers. I want to continue my father’s work. Please, Master Long, do not send me away.”

  “My dearest Peipei,” the old man said. “I will never send you away. This is your decision, and I will be your servant. I must insist you take your full meal to consider all options. There is so little to recommend staying, and so much weighing on the other side. Please, for my peace of mind, make sure your motivations are correct.”

  “I am sure,” she said. “I have thought of nothing else since we arrived at your home. The positive energy in your house heals me. Remaining in your service, and in the service of our travellers, is my highest desire.”

  “Then you will be my granddaughter. You will remain under my protection until I am no longer part of this earth.”

  “After which point I will carry on your work.”

  The waitress brought their first basket of fried fish on lentils and rice. Long, who normally ate sparingly and with the best of manners, dug into the food with a refreshed appetite, his chopsticks taking flight over the delicious, tender flakes of fish.

  There is nothing like the company of youth and the satisfaction of a decision reached to restore one’s natural energy and vigour.

  **

  Dong watched from behind the heavy curtain in the ‘great room’ as Sun and his speechless nephew got into their car. The boy did not even have the courtesy to open his uncle’s door first. Poor Sun had his hands full with that one!

  He smiled, thinking of the auspicious photo his assistant had taken of Sun shaking his hand near the podium. The old bugger had beamed with approval, and did not even recoil this time from the Western style handshake, instead holding Dong’s hand firmly and maintaining the grip for the camera. Then Sun and his nephew had taken their leave, after much reassurance that the report, when finalised, would reflect well on the Administrator.