Shanghai Story: A WWII Drama Trilogy Book One

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Shanghai Story: A WWII Drama Trilogy Book One Page 25

by Alexa Kang


  The car moved again and Eden checked her watch. Nine forty. They were more than ten minutes late. Clark had probably arrived already. She hoped they’d get there soon. She didn’t want to make him wait too long.

  Maybe it was a mistake to invite him. She could see now, Blood Alley at night definitely was not the type of place for respectable women. What would he think of her and her friends?

  Lin Shifu stopped in front of a bar called the Sambuca. “I’ll be parked across the street, ma’am.”

  “Excellent!” Ava closed her fan. Eden followed Ava and got out. Holding her purse close to her chest, she pulled Lillian away from a pair of Italian soldiers' leering eyes.

  Lillian didn’t mind the attention. “That one looks like Cary Grant, don’t you think?”

  Eden gave her a reprimanding smile and nudged her to keep walking.

  Wafting saxophones and jangling trumpets spilled from the dozens of cabarets along the street. Lines of rickshaws with coolies squatting beside them waited outside, the longest one forming in front of a cabaret called Frisco. American Marines swarmed the entrance. None of them paid any attention to the two big Russians dragging a civilian man out of the roulette casino next door. They only laughed when the Russians hurled him onto the ground.

  Next door to the Sambuca, Chinese girls in gaudily colored fake silk dresses loitered outside the Royal, calling out to a rowdy group of Seaforth Highlanders so drunk they couldn’t even walk straight.

  “Darling, won’t you buy me a drink?”

  One of the men responded with a loud whistle. He wobbled toward her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and they all went inside.

  “Come on.” Ava put her fan away and strode toward the entrance of the Sambuca.

  “Let’s go,” Lillian said to Eden. Excitement brimmed in her eyes.

  The Sambuca, at least, did not look as seamy as the environment outside. The plush velvet sofas, oriental rugs, and tables set with porcelain vases gave it a semblance of class. The red walls and dark wooden bar added a seductive ambiance, suffused by laughing voices of the guests.

  Across from the bar, a four-person band played in front of a small dance floor. The sounds of trumpet, guitar, and piano mixed with the rhythm of drums reverberated throughout the room. The music was so loud, she didn’t even hear him when Clark called out to her the first time.

  “Eden!” He waved to her from a nearby table.

  “Clark!” She tapped Ava and Lillian and directed them toward Clark’s table.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Eden took a seat. “Have you been waiting long?”

  “Only for a little while.” Clark moved his glass of scotch.

  “These are my friends, Ava and Lillian,” Eden shouted over the music and looked at her friends.

  “You must be Clark.” Ava gave him a wide smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Clark nodded. Before he had a chance to say anything, a man with dark curly hair came up to their table. “Ava!”

  Eden gazed up at him. He had the beautiful face of the Eurasians who were half Portuguese and half Chinese she had seen around Shanghai. She always noticed them because of people of mixed-race were unusual. They always stood out, even in this city. Here, most of them were Portuguese-Chinese.

  “Mauricio!” Ava greeted him with a light friendly kiss on both cheeks. “This is Mauricio Perez, owner of the Sambuca,” she told everyone. “Mauricio is my eye and ear in Shanghai. He knows everything going on in town and more. Whatever gossip you hear, they’re all lies until Mauricio says it’s true.”

  Mauricio bellowed out a hearty laugh. “What will you all have to drink?”

  “I’m so glad you asked. I’m craving some absinthe.”

  “Coming right up. The first round’s on me.” Mauricio gave her a thumbs-up.

  When he walked away, Eden asked Ava. “Is absinthe safe?”

  Ava merely smiled and dared her with her eyes.

  Next to her, Clark was watching her, amused. Eden gave up and let go of her worries. If both Ava and Clark thought it was fine to drink, it must be safe.

  Clark drank his scotch and looked over to the band. Eden followed his gaze and relaxed in her seat. The music the band played sounded Spanish, but not exactly. It had a flowing, uplifting tempo, accompanied by fast, choppy beat of percussion instruments she’d never seen.

  “What kind of music is this?” she asked Clark.

  “Cuban. This is a Cuban band. I didn’t know they were playing here tonight. I quite like this music. I would’ve missed out if you hadn’t invited me.”

  Relieved he didn’t frown upon this place, she said, “I was worried you would think I was mad inviting you to come here. It’s shadier than I’d imagined.”

  “I didn’t think you were capable of imagining how bad Blood Alley would be at all. I thought you might as well come and see for yourself.”

  Now Eden felt miffed. “You think I’m naive?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Clark denied, trying not to laugh.

  At the next table, two Arab sheikhs took turns smoking from a long pipe attached to a tall stemmed instrument that looked like an ornate lamp. Lowering her voice, she asked, “Is that opium?”

  Clark tossed back his head and laughed. “No, that’s a hookah.”

  “Hookah?”

  “Tobacco.”

  Eden cocked her head and watched as the sheikhs blew out clouds of smoke.

  A waiter brought a round of absinthe to the table and set each drink before them along with a pitcher of water. To prove she was neither naive nor a prude, Eden picked up the small, tulip shaped reservoir glass and swallowed the whole thing at once. The intense, bitter taste of anise nearly made her gag. Watching her, Lillian bowed over laughing.

  “My dear!” Ava quickly poured her a glass of water. “That’s not how you drink this.” She laid a small, perforated spoon across her glass and put a sugar cube on top. “Watch,” she said and poured water over the sugar to let it dissolve into the spirit.

  Thoroughly embarrassed, Eden silently drank her water while the band finished their song to a round of applause.

  The band stopped to take their break. As Ava and Lillian enjoyed their drink, Clark asked Eden, “How’s your new job?”

  “Awful. I’m awful.” She slumped her shoulders. “I have so much still to learn. Sometimes, I feel like I don’t know anything.”

  “I understand.”

  “You do?”

  “I feel that way at my job too. Every time I think I have things figured out, something else I didn’t foresee would happen and throw everything into a quagmire. And then, no matter what I do, I can’t make things right.”

  Not entirely convinced, Eden studied his face. “I’m surprised to hear that. You always look like nothing could shake you.”

  “The people I work for demand a lot of things that are difficult to deliver.”

  “Do they? My editor-in-chief is very demanding too. Nothing I write is good enough for him. I’m a long way from meeting his standard, and the one thing I could do to impress him is impossible.”

  “What’s impossible?” Ava asked.

  “My boss, Mr. Zelik. I found out today about something that he has always wanted, but it would be impossible for anyone to make it happen.”

  “What is it that he wants?”

  “He wants to make contact with the Jews in Kaifeng.”

  “Kaifeng? Where’s Kaifeng?”

  “It’s a city in Henan Province. Somewhere northwest of Shanghai, I was told. Apparently, some Jewish people settled in that place more than a thousand years ago. Over time, they’ve become isolated, although one had made it here to Shanghai and met Mr. Zelik. That was how Mr. Zelik found out about them. The man he met told him the Kaifeng Jews have kept their Jewish faith and customs.”

  “Interesting.” Ava leaned forward and held her chin in her palm with her elbows resting on the table.

  “Isn’t it?” Eden asked. “Mr. Zelik wants to find ou
t what has become of them. He wants to establish ties with them again, but there’s no way to reach them. Kaifeng’s in Henan Province and no one can get there.”

  “Can’t get there, huh?” Ava’s lips curled up. “Here’s what I think. There’s no such thing as impossible.” She lit the cigarette in her long cigarette holder and inhaled. “How far is it from Shanghai to Henan? Seven, eight hundred kilos? I’ve traveled much longer distances than that.”

  “It’s not only distance. I was told the road conditions are terrible, or there might not even be roads.”

  “My dear!” Ava rolled her head. “I traveled through Kenya in a caravan. A few days, or even a few weeks, in the Chinese countryside is nothing. Obviously, your editor had never met anyone who can travel without luxury trains and steamboats.” She exhaled a puff of smoke.

  “Even if it’s possible as you say, how would I possibly make the trip by myself? Who would take me there?”

  Ava opened her hands. “I can take you there.”

  “What?” both Eden and Lillian blurted out. Even Clark looked incredulous.

  “It’s simple. I’ll arrange for a couple of expedition vehicles, one for passengers and one for the trunks. Lin can be one of the drivers. He can double as the translator. He grew up in the countryside, you know. Bless his heart. He’ll know how to navigate the way. Oh, we should bring a photographer too.”

  Frowning, Clark said, “Ava, I don’t think that’s a good idea. The countryside can be dangerous. There are robbers and bandits. Two women, a couple of drivers, and a photographer would be easy targets. And two white women would be way too conspicuous.”

  Ava shrugged. “We can’t possibly be more conspicuous than when I traveled in Africa. But now that you mention it, you’re right. I should take along armed bodyguards too.” She lifted her chin and smiled.

  “I still think it’s a bad idea.”

  “You’re worrying too much,” Lillian chimed in. “It sounds like a great adventure. Eden, I think you and Ava should definitely do it. If I didn’t have school and classes, I’d absolutely join you.”

  Clark shook his head. “I’d advise against this.”

  “Clark,” Ava said and touched his forearm, “we’ll be fine. Foreigners have been traveling in China for centuries. I’m no shrinking violet. I don’t think Eden is either. Am I right, Eden?”

  Eden looked from Clark to Ava. This was her golden chance. If she could make it to Kaifeng and bring back news, Zelik would be amazed. Even better, she’d get to reconnect with an ancient, lost group of Jews. Imagine the articles she could write when she returned. Her heart was already racing at the prospect of it.

  She gave Clark an apologetic smile. “I appreciate you worrying about us, but I really want to go. I want to find the Jews in Kaifeng. Anyway,” she said and glanced around the room, “I’ve seen how cosmopolitan Shanghai is. I want to see what China’s countryside is like.”

  “There’s nothing to see. There are a lot of farmers and poor rural people.”

  “To me, that’s fascinating. Just think. When I come back, I’ll be able to write about it and tell the foreigners in Shanghai what life in rural China is like.”

  “Yes!” Lillian clapped her hands, even though Clark still looked horrified.

  “It’s a plan then,” Ava said. “We’re going to find the Chinese Jews.”

  “I just thought of something,” Lillian said. “What if you arrive in Kaifeng and find them during Rosh Hashanah? Wouldn’t that be something?”

  “I didn’t even think of that.”

  “What’s Rosh Hashanah?” Clark asked.

  “It’s the Jewish New Year. This year, it’ll be September 17th.”

  “In that case, we’ve got no time to waste,” Ava said. “We’ll have to arrive no later than the sixteenth. We’ll bring gifts. Lots of gifts!”

  “Ava!” Eden laughed. “We don’t need to give gifts for Rosh Hashanah.”

  “Oh, no? Well, we'll bring them anyway,” Ava said and waved her hand. “They’re Chinese too, right? They must have assimilated after all this time, and you can’t visit the Chinese without bringing gifts for a New Year holiday. Besides, one always brings gifts when visiting new tribes of people for the first time.”

  “Tribes?” Lillian asked as she and Eden laughed together.

  Undaunted, Ava lit a new cigarette. A dark-skinned Indian man in military uniform came up behind her and kissed the nape of her neck. Stunned, Eden stopped laughing. Lillian’s mouth fell agape and Clark yelled out, “What are you doing?”

  Surprised, Ava turned her head around. “Raj!” She touched him affectionately on the arm. “You made it! Come. Sit down.” She tapped the empty seat next to her.

  The Indian man took a seat. He picked up her fingers and planted a deep kiss on the back of her hand. “I almost died these last two days waiting to see you.”

  “Me too,” Ava said, her voice all smitten. “Everybody, this is Subedar Major Raj Patel of the British Indian Army.”

  “How do you do?” Major Patel beamed at them. Lillian and Clark only stared at him, speechless.

  Noticing he and Ava were still holding hands, Eden said, “Pleased to meet you, Major. I’m Eden Levine.” She kicked Lillian under the table.

  Lillian gasped. “Yes. Pleased to meet you too. I’m Lillian Berman. How do you do?”

  Clark’s eyes went from Eden to Ava. Recovering his composure, he held out his hand, “Clark Yuan.”

  “Pleasure.” The Major shook his hand.

  “Ava, you didn’t tell us Major Patel would be joining us,” Eden said, trying to keep her voice normal.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise. Raj and I met in Egypt. He’s one of the reasons I came back to Shanghai instead of going to Europe. I would’ve introduced you sooner but I had to wait till tonight when we come here. I didn’t want to raise another scandal. Some people in ‘polite society’ wouldn’t take it too well if they saw Raj and me together. Some of the men would get it into their heads he’s infringing upon ‘their women,’ like I’m a piece of property that ever belonged to them.” She rolled her eyes. “I personally couldn’t care less, but I don’t want to cause Raj any trouble.” She squeezed the Major’s hand.

  “My love, you’re no trouble at all.” Raj smiled.

  Clark, however, looked dejected. Did it trouble him so much that Ava and Major Patel had to hide their relationship? Eden wondered.

  The band started playing again. Maybe because it was now deeper into the night. Maybe more people had become drunk. Whatever the reason, the place now seemed rowdier. The fast pace of the music and thumping of the drums roused more and more people to crowd the dance floor.

  “Rumba,” Ava said, her voice low and sultry under the music.

  “Shall we dance?” Major Patel swung her hand.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Major Patel pulled her up from her seat. Before she followed him out to dance, Ava glanced back at Eden and Lillian and winked.

  After they left, the three of them bared their shock.

  “Whoa,” Lillian said. “She’s got nerve.”

  “You mean the fact he’s Indian?” Eden asked.

  “Yes. And she’s right. Can you imagine how people would react if we were anywhere but Blood Alley?”

  Of course she could, Eden thought. If Ava were running around with Major Patel in broad daylight in establishments such as the Astor Hotel or the Metropole, everyone would be whispering and pointing fingers.

  Lillian watched Ava and Patel dance together. “Although I must say, he’s quite a good-looking man.”

  Eden followed her gaze. If even Ava felt pressured not to flaunt her new paramour elsewhere, how could anyone else live with the gossip and criticism?

  At least Ava had the audacity to have a love affair with an Indian man. Could she herself dare to do the same? Eden asked herself.

  She turned her eyes back to the table and found Clark looking at her. Quickly, he smiled and turned his eyes away, and poured h
imself a glass of water.

  What was he thinking just now?

  “Where’s the waiter?” Lillian sat up straighter and looked around. “I think we should get a round of drinks to toast to your upcoming trip to Kaifeng. For good luck.”

  “I should’ve thought of that,” Clark said. “I’ll go to the bar.”

  “No.” Lillian pushed her chair back. “Let me. I want to look around and see the rest of this place.” She got up and left the table.

  With both Ava and Lillian gone, Eden felt an odd moment of awkwardness. Major Patel’s arrival had struck something open, except she didn’t know what it was or how to react to it.

  Clark ended up speaking first. “Your friend Ava is a character.”

  “She is. She never ceases to surprise.”

  “How is it she’s not married? She’s a handsome woman.”

  “She’s divorced.”

  “I see.” Clark’s face eased. “That’s why she can take the liberty.”

  Eden frowned. “Do you think she should not be with Major Patel if she wasn’t divorced?”

  “For her own good, it would be better if she didn’t become involved with an Indian man.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “Are you saying an Indian man is not worthy of her? Or is your opinion of her lowered because she is with Major Patel?”

  “Neither,” Clark said. “Please don’t take it the wrong way. I wasn’t criticizing your friend. What I mean is, society would find it very hard to accept her and Major Patel together. A mixed-race relationship isn’t something people approve of. If she had never been married, her reputation would be ruined. Her life would become very difficult, and some people might not react very kindly to her if they saw them together.”

  Eden stared at the flickering candle on their table. A flush of defiance came over her. “My neighbors aren’t of the same race. Thierry is French and his wife, Keiko, is Japanese.”

  “Things are a little better if the couple is a white man and a non-white woman. Her family may not accept it, and she might face discrimination from the world she married into, but at least in the eyes of society, she hasn’t denigrated herself.”

 

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