by F. J. Chase
“No, not at all. Do you have children?”
“One son. I was in South America when he was born. He’s twenty-three.”
“What does he do?”
Avakian shook his head again. “The army.”
“Did he go to West Point, too?”
“No. I tried so hard to steer him away from the army so of course that’s what he went for. He dropped out of college and joined up. He’s a sergeant in South Korea. His mother didn’t deserve that, either.”
“It doesn’t sound like your fault.”
“Thanks for saying so. Change of subject?”
“These cucumbers are excellent.”
The waitress rescued him again by arriving with a stack of steamer baskets. She arranged them on the table and removed the lids with a flourish and a puff of live steam. The white dumplings were closed with a swirling crimp at the top and sat on a circle of rice paper.
“Any tips?” the doctor asked.
“The wrapping is super thin,” said Avakian. “And there’s juice inside. So you’ve got real problems if you punch a hole in one with your chopsticks. Same if you try to nibble at it. The expert technique is to bring it up to your mouth, bite a little hole in the wrapping, drink the juice, then dip it in sauce and eat. But if you try that, you’re flirting with disaster. The only safe play is to eat like a foreign devil.” He reached for a spoon, scooped up a dumpling, and slid it into his mouth intact. Pressed against the roof of his mouth, the dumpling exploded in a burst of pork, spices, vegetables and savory meat juice. Rich pork, unlike American pork, which had all the flavor and consistency of a hockey puck. He chewed slowly, aware that he must have a beatific expression on his face. “These are really good.”
Doctor Rose duplicated his technique. “Oh, my God. How do they keep the juice inside a wrapping that thin?”
“Witchcraft. What was yours?”
“Shrimp and pork.”
“Mine was the green vegetable and pork. I encourage you to switch between baskets.”
“If I wrap my arms around the steamer and say: mine, mine, just ignore me. Can we keep eating these all night?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Avakian. “But you’ll have to tell me how you ended up with USA Gymnastics.”
“Is this just a ploy to keep me talking so you can eat more dumplings?”
“You see through me like I’m made of glass,” said Avakian.
“I’m not married,” said Doctor Rose. “Never have been.”
Avakian cocked his head at her and narrowed his eyes. “Was that some clever way of avoiding my original question?”
“No, I just think it’s only fair to cover the same ground you did. Grew up in Hibbing, Minnesota. University of Minnesota, Harvard Medical School.”
“Very impressive,” said Avakian.
“Did my residency in Denver and stayed there. Orthopedists love ski country. I never had time for anything except building my practice and skiing. Wow, what are these dumplings here?”
“Crab roe and pork,” said Avakian.
“They’re amazing. Where was I?”
“Building your practice.”
“One day I woke up and I was bored. So I said: Judy, why don’t you go see about one of the sports teams? That was because I knew a few people. My first choice was joining the circus.”
“High wire or animal act?” Avakian asked.
“I’m not good with heights and I’m afraid of tigers. And do you have any idea how few openings there are for circus doctors?”
“From your tone, I’m guessing not many.” Now he knew why he’d thought she was kind of severe. It was part of being the doctor. Don’t look at me—listen to what I’m telling you. Because of that she wasn’t into display, not a flirty woman by any stretch of the imagination. But when he made her laugh she opened up like a flower and it all came out. It made him want to keep doing it.
“I suppose it’s not really a life-changing adventure if you have more than enough money in the bank to cushion the life change.”
“Don’t expect me to comment on that. The army pays me my pension every month.”
“How long were you in the army? I’m switching this back to you, but you’ve noticed how I do that.”
“Pardon?”
“You’ve been reading me, the same way you read all those Chinese the other day.”
Avakian paused at the brink of eating another dumpling, not wanting to risk choking. He’d never been caught at it before. Or at least never been called on it. “I’m not following you,” he said innocently.
“Kinesics. The study of body language.”
“Never heard of it,” said Avakian. “Sounds interesting, though.”
“So how easy am I to read?”
“I’m drawing a blank. You should join the professional poker circuit.”
“A likely story.”
“Twenty-three years in the army. There, see how I learned that from you?”
“You’re a quick study. And what did you do in the army?”
“Started off as a paratrooper. But spent most of my career in Special Forces.”
“Really? And this is how you became…?”
“Security liaison. Really, just a glorified negotiator. I moved into security consulting after I retired. I tell you how to keep your executives in Colombia from getting kidnapped, that sort of thing. Do security surveys, risk assessments. Compared to government service, the money is pretty incredible. I knew a few of the people here. The Chinese drove everyone crazy, so they hired me.”
“And the Chinese don’t drive you crazy?”
“No. When you don’t have a career dependent on the results there’s no anxiety. I’ve tried to evolve beyond being the little guy with the chip on his shoulder. He shows up every now and then, but for the most part I follow the wisdom of Elvis Costello: I used to be disgusted, but now I try to be amused.”
“And the angels want to wear your red shoes?”
That gave Avakian more of a jolt than if he’d found out she was heavily into body piercing, except this was a turn-on. “I warn you, don’t toy with me by quoting Elvis.”
Her complexion darkened again, and she made a point of ignoring that. “So the more you cared about getting little Brandi out of Chinese custody, the worse the Chinese would have made it for you?”
Avakian refilled her tea and saluted her with the pot. “Exactly. The more you seem to care, the more they have you over a barrel.”
“So you have to develop a don’t give a crap attitude?”
“It’s something I’ve honed through many years of hard work.”
The waitress reappeared with two dishes.
“Oh, my God,” Doctor Rose groaned. “What’s this?”
“Unless I miss my guess, fried rice with egg, scallion and pink prawns.”
“I don’t think I can eat another bite,” she said. Then, after sampling it, “I can eat another bite. I have never had fried rice this good. What’s in the other one?”
Avakian slid the bowl over to her. “Hot noodles with peanuts and sesame sauce.”
“That doesn’t sound like my kind of dish. Okay, I want all of that, too. This is totally undignified, isn’t it? I should be picking at my food and pretending I’m never hungry.”
“Actually, it’s refreshing. You know what I’m going to say next, don’t you?”
“You’re going to express your regrets on my eating disorder?”
“No. Ask what you want for dessert.”
“No, no. Not another bite. At least not after some more fried rice.”
“Whatever you say.”
Outside they did what everyone does upon leaving a restaurant in a good mood: stop, look around, stretch a bit, smile in satisfaction, taste the change in air, and be reluctant to move on.
“That was wonderful, Pete,” Doctor Rose said. “One of the best meals I’ve ever had. Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome, Judy.”
“You’re
quite the gourmand, aren’t you?”
“I never can understand why people go to all the trouble of traveling only to eat room service or look for the nearest McDonald’s.”
“Would you mind walking a bit?”
“A walk sounds great, but we’re really not near anything.” Avakian took out his phone. “Let me get Kangmei over here. We can take a walk around Houhai Lake. It’s just north of the Forbidden City. For me, it’s China in a nutshell.”
A half hour later, as they stood on the edge of the lake, Doctor Rose had to ask. “Now tell me why this is China in a nutshell.”
“I wanted to start you out on the northern shore here because it’s the quietest part.” Avakian stood beside her and pointed down the bank, at the silhouettes of fishermen sitting with their long poles, lit by the red dots of their cigarettes. “Forget them, and don’t look into the distance.” Now he was pointing toward the opposite shore, a shimmering wave of multicolored neon from all the bars and restaurants. “Look at the middle distance, the water. Half a million years ago Peking Man drank here. This was nothing but scattered pools and ponds that formed in the spring when the Yongding River overflowed.”
“Homo Erectus dazzled by the moon reflecting on the water,” said Doctor Rose. “That’s a nice image.”
Avakian offered her his arm. She hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow and they began walking.
“Three thousand years ago they started planting crops on these banks,” he said. “In the thirteenth century Kublai Khan built his winter palace here. His engineers dug out all the little ponds, connected them, and turned them into these three lakes. Fed them with aqueducts, so they wouldn’t dry up in the summer. Barges came up and down the river systems and let off their trade right here. Financed the Mongol Empire. During the Ming Dynasty the waterfront and a short commute into the Forbidden City made this prime real estate for the Imperial eunuchs.”
He smiled over at Doctor Rose, and she said, “Tell me, would you rather administer the empire and wield all that power, or…or not be a eunuch?”
“Power is overrated,” said Avakian. “I’ve never heard anyone make that claim about sex.”
They both laughed, and he said, “This was a very popular place in the daytime. Everyone in the city came here when the lotus was in bloom. But it was deserted at night.”
“Why at night? Crime?”
“It was also a popular place to commit suicide by drowning. The Chinese believed that the spirit of a suicide could only be freed if someone else took its place. So if you walked the shore after dark, ghosts might tempt you into the water.”
Doctor Rose chuckled. Tonight the lakeshore walk was filled with sightseers, vendors, pub crawlers, restaurant goers, and knee-hugging drunks. “The ghosts are going to have to fight for you.”
The shoreline was now filled with neon bars. Most with al fresco terraces overlooking the lake, pounding music you could feel in your fillings even from outside, and desperate barkers out front trying to drag in business.
“See that?” said Avakian, pointing at one of the few ancient-looking buildings they’d come across. A real triple-arched stone structure, as opposed to the bars and cafés with pseudo-ancient facades.
“What is it?”
“The Guangfuguan Daoist Temple.”
“Can we go inside?”
“Sure. It’s a bar now.”
“I think I’m getting an idea of your nutshell view of China,” said Doctor Rose. “Lotus blossoms to bar district. Was that your point?”
“Well, I suppose my point is whatever you thought it was after my little presentation,” said Avakian. “But I might have been sort of aiming in the general direction of implying that there aren’t many spots on this earth where you can stand on half a million years of continuous human history.”
“And have a nice walk.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. How about some coffee, or a cold drink, or some dessert?”
“Now you’re talking. Maybe not dessert, but we doctors can drink coffee in any climate.”
“Coffee it is. Keep your fingers crossed—it’s not as consistently reliable here as tea.”
“And maybe some place where we won’t be risking permanent auditory damage.”
“I hear you on that,” said Avakian.
“Very funny.”
“Just trying to keep up with you.”
They found a small café in the midst of a sea of bars. There seemed to be more of an older crowd there, probably due to the relative quiet. It was hard to see anything through the cigarette smoke inside so they walked around to the outside deck.
A waiter was clearing off a small two-person table and motioned them over. As they stood there waiting for him to finish, two Chinese, a man and a woman, stepped right in front of them and began to sit down.
Doctor Rose was so stunned by that she didn’t know what to do. She looked over at Avakian.
Who, without a word, grabbed the man by the shoulders, picked him up, and spun him around behind them. Doctor Rose had her mouth open. The Chinese woman had already scampered off.
Avakian held the chair for her. The doctor checked around the area, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. The waiter was laughing and patting Avakian on the back.
“How do you like your coffee?” Avakian asked her.
“Uh, black. Please.”
“Hei kafei,” Avakian told the waiter, holding up two fingers.
The waiter smiled and nodded.
“I always choke on numbers,” he told her.
She was staring at him again.
“For the most part, one-on-one the Chinese are really nice, really polite people,” he said. “But out in public if you’re not family or friend they’re the rudest swine on earth. It’s every man for himself. Whether this is a fact of city life, or the legacy of the Cultural Revolution, when I first came here I’d be standing in a line and I’d never get anywhere because Chinese kept cutting in front of me. At first you go: look at that chutzpah, no wonder they’re doing so well in business. And then you realize you’re never going to get anywhere. So I asked a Chinese what to do. And he said to grab them by the shoulders and throw them out. So that’s what I do. When in Rome…”
“And this works?”
“Consult the evidence of your own eyes.”
The waiter returned with two tall glasses containing a milky brown liquid and what seemed to be either whipped cream or ice cream on top.
Avakian held out his hand as if to say: what the hell?
The waiter just pointed to the glasses as if to say: trust me on this.
“In case you’re wondering, I can order coffee in Mandarin,” said Avakian. “Evidently he’s positive he knows what we need better than we do. You game?”
“Why not?”
“If it’s too weird we just won’t drink it. I’ll go first. That way you can treat me if I go down.”
“That would be an interesting finale to the evening.”
Avakian took a sip. “Hmmm. It’s kind of like really strong ice coffee with some type of Chinese spice twist and not quite whipped cream but lightly beaten sweet cream on top. It’s not like any ice coffee I’ve ever had, but it’s good.” He nodded to the waiter, who was hanging around for the verdict.
Doctor Rose sipped hers cautiously. She rolled her eyes up, as if making a decision. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever had, either. But it’s interesting. And good.” Now she nodded to the waiter, who broke into a big grin.
“Xiexie,” Avakian told him.
The waiter gave them the thumbs-up.
After he left, Doctor Rose said, “What did you say?”
“Just thank you,” said Avakian. “Not what you were thinking—I wasn’t calling the drink something naughty.”
The doctor began coughing over her ice coffee.
“Not that it wouldn’t be funny,” said Avakian. “But my Chinese isn’t muscular enough for it. I’ve been trying to get the verbs down, but th
e tones keep kicking my butt.”
“That was our euphemism for poop when I was a kid.”
They sipped their drinks and watched the lights from the opposite shore dance across the water. The lake was only a few hundred yards wide at that point. The rest of the overcast had blown away, and the moon and all the stars were out.
“This is nice,” said Doctor Rose.
That relieved Avakian of a massive amount of date anxiety. He knew she’d liked the restaurant, but wasn’t sure about the lake.
The inside of the café erupted in a solid roar of cheers. People were jumping up and down and standing on their chairs.
“Somebody’s team must have won,” said Avakian.
Doctor Rose looked at her watch. “At this time of night?”
“Some sports program showing replays? Maybe there’s a soccer game on TV?”
Everyone out on the deck was looking just as puzzled. Then someone crashed out the door and yelled something in Chinese. And everyone around them started cheering, too.
Avakian dug into his pocket and started tossing cash onto the table. “I’m getting one of those feelings.”
“It’s contagious,” she said.
Two Caucasian men in their twenties emerged from the café door, looking plenty worried. “Either of you guys speak English?” Avakian called out.
“Yeah, mate,” one said in Australian.
“What’s going on?” Avakian asked.
“Bloody Chinese are shooting missiles at Taiwan. Premier was on the TV. Looks like war.”
“Oh, shit,” Avakian said.
“Too bloody right,” the Aussie replied. “Time to get back to the hotel before the fucking Chinks start turning all xenophobe and anti-foreigner. Later.”
“Thanks,” Avakian called out after them. And then to the doctor, “Politically incorrect but factually correct. His instincts are on the money.”
“My instinct is to be scared to death.”
“That’s okay. Just don’t look worried. Smile and act like you’re as pleased with this as everyone else.”
“Are you kidding?” she said as he took her arm.
