“This country is all about murders and murderers.”
I turned to see the source of that comment and saw that a well-built, thick-moustached man was standing beside me with the palms of his hands spread. I stood on my feet, just as a sign of imaginary respect, and shook hands with him. He was the guy from the picture in the other room. He looked rougher than the picture, and his moustache had turned grey. His hand squeezed mine, and a sudden shock ran across my brain causing direct agony; once again the image of my father holding the heart of my mother had appeared. I quickly withdrew my hand from that big fist and dropped onto the sofa.
“Are you all right?” Gen asked and placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Yes,” I nodded. “Just migraine.” That was a lie.
Gen called his daughter to bring me a glass of water.
“He has had this headache since this morning,” Li said, handing me a glass of water and sitting next to me. Her presence had a kind of soothing effect. “So, you have migraine and you didn’t tell me about it!” she said, as if she was my girlfriend. But oh, I did wish to be her boyfriend, and I really did like the care that comment demonstrated for me.
Gen went to change his clothes, and the grandmother went into the kitchen to prepare lunch. I planted a quick kiss on Li’s mouth, and she looked at me with a little frown. It was as if she knew everything about me, and the story of migraine was the missing piece in the whole puzzle picture.
“I don’t have migraine. I just lied. I didn’t feel good when I looked at your father. That’s all.”
She put her hand on her mouth and giggled.
“Who would feel good looking at my father?” she commented.
We gathered within minutes at a table for lunch. Li sat next to me, while on the opposite side were Gen and the grandmother.
“How is your head now?” Gen asked.
“The pain is over.” I replied.
“I heard you are a teacher.”
“I was.”
“All my life I have hated teachers. No offence meant to you, but that is my true opinion. Teachers keep you away from truth and reality and fill your head with bullshit rubbish.”
Li stopped eating and stared at her father angrily. I nudged her foot with mine, and she saw a smile on my face. Her father was certainly very opinionated, as the daughter had warned me.
“That might be the reason why I quit the job,” I sarcastically commented.
Gen giggled and so did I, and Li’s smile returned. But one thing didn’t change—the hard look on the grandmother’s face as if I wasn’t welcome at the table and my presence was a heavy burden. I didn’t mind that old witch. I liked Li and planned to stay close to her for some time before my death.
The thick-moustached guy delivered another of his opinions. He described the poor people roaming in the shopping malls with their simple or ragged dresses.
“They shouldn’t be allowed to enter malls, I believe.” He spoke while chewing a piece of chicken skin. “The malls should have a dress code. The image of the malls gets ruined by the presence of such people walking in. What would tourists say about our great country? It is like a soup where chicken is mixed with pieces of tasteless bones, eh? A line between layers of our society must be drawn clearly and well respected.”
I could see how Gen liked to be the king of the table and have his theories accepted as facts. No wonder he was not beloved, but I couldn’t see at that moment how that might be related to the bad feeling I kept getting in his presence.
“Hey, Gerald, my mother told me that your family name is Arsov?” He started again.
My eyes turned to the grandmother, who dropped her eyes to her plate, which was almost untouched.
“Yes,” I replied.
“That sounds like a Russian name.”
“I don’t know why my father bore that strange surname.” I smiled.
“Where is your father now?” Gen looked me in eyes.
“In Thailand,” I lied. I didn’t intend to give him the story of my life.
“What is he doing there?”
“Business.”
“And your mother?”
“She always accompanies him wherever he goes. She is stuck to him like his tail.” I chuckled.
At this point, the grandmother’s expressions lightened as if she was waiting for my lies to be spoken. I didn’t see any reason behind the interrogation.
“I used to know a family with the same surname.” He spoke again.
“Arsov?” I enquired.
“Yes.”
I forced my mouth to continue working on the piece of chicken and hide whatever signs of surprise his remark caused within me.
“I guess even Russian names can be copied.” I smiled.
As I continued to eat, thoughts came to my mind. I realized that if he had really known a family with the same surname, it would have to be mine, especially in China. No coincidence could have brought another family with the same surname to China. But the big question was how he knew my family. It was unbearable to hold that question in my mind, and I looked up from my plate to ask it, only to see Gen standing and walking into the kitchen while licking his fingers. This wasn’t the time for it.
I kept asking myself how a piece of garbage like Gen might have known my family. I knew father to be logical and respectful towards others. If that was the truth about my father, there would be no reason to keep in contact with such a hideous character as Gen. I couldn’t see why Gen would joke about knowing my family, if he was really joking. His face didn’t show any indication that he was a guy who would share casual jokes. The question of how he knew them was eating me up.
That day didn’t satisfy my hunger for truth. When I went home, my mind was busy with the new thread that had emerged that was related to my parents, and I was wondering whether the bad feeling I kept getting in the presence of Gen was related to the secret information I was seeking. The following days did not help me with what I sought, though I caught glimpses of happiness when I was in contact with Li. I didn’t wish to make it only a matter of sexual desires with her, because I truly carried feelings for her, and so I met her most days after her work at coffee shops or restaurants. She seemed to be very happy with me and was always in hurry to meet me, like a teenager who falls in love for the first time, and I do believe she fell in love with me. I liked her attitude of showing me care and pure kindness, and that made her even more special. She also would always send me text messages asking about me and whether I had my meals. I do believe she will make a fantastic wife once she is lucky with the right man. My destiny wasn’t meant to be with her, and yet my heart longed for the promise of happiness she might provide me, and thus I wouldn’t forgive myself for abandoning her.
One week after our first meeting, I invited Li for dinner in a small restaurant. As I was walking that evening to my destination, I stopped by a dress shop, as the dress on the glass window had caught my eye. The dress was similar to the one Li always wore in style, but the pink skirt was substituted with light oceanic blue. I imagined how it would look pretty on her. At first sight, I believed it was even the exact size for her. I stopped myself from following temptation and buying it for her; I didn’t wish to create any sort of bonds of commitment she would believe in with me.
As I continued to stare at the dress, I saw a well-known complexion reflected in the glass, the beloved and much dreamed-of figure of Fang. The weak breezes of the sky blew her silky hair, making her fine face visible. I didn’t turn around for fear of losing that view that always followed me within my dead memories. My heart dropped all its guards and wished for nothing more than just to look at her angel face. I let that figure in black dress pass by, and a black car with dark tinted windows stopped. The back door was opened by a man in a black suit, and the ghost of Fang climbed in. I realized now that
I was losing her once again, if she was really Fang, and so I turned around quickly and ran towards the car, but my feet were not fast enough. The engine roared and the car sped away along the road. I paused there for a while unable to catch any more glimpses of the car. Then I thought about it over again. That girl couldn’t be the Fang I knew, I told myself, or at least I just made myself believe it.
I turned and walked back to the new shiny girl in my life. I could see, by comparison, that I was ready to leave Li and everything for the sake of the first name my heart intuitively spoke—Fang.
26
When I was with Li, I always put thought into my dress; I liked to look good for her. Although my mind was totally against it, the quest of my heart demanded it. When I met her that evening, she had on her normal white and pink dress, and for a second I recalled the picture I had imagined of her wearing that blue dress. She had arrived before me, and her eyes were fixed on the young couple two tables away as they held hands and exchanged loving gestures. I paused for a while, thinking again about the effect I was having on her life and the effect she was actually wanting me to have over her life. Like a teenager, I approached her from behind and tapped her left shoulder, while turning around to take a seat on her right. She laughed when she saw me in front of her.
“I didn’t know you were a guy who jokes.” She smiled and leaned her head a little to the left. Her eyes were shining crystals under the yellow light of the room.
“Is it good if I joke?” I asked. It was the first time anyone had made such a comment.
“Yes, for sure.” She straightened her head and placed her fingers around the glass of water in front of her. “You are just a very serious type, Gerald. I would like seeing you always laughing and joking. A smile looks good on your face.”
“So be it. I shall change my skin.”
She ordered chicken soup and so did I, and in the short period before the order was delivered, her eyes didn’t stop stealing glimpses of the couple two tables away. Girls love to be loved and shown deeds of love. I am just a boring presence when it comes to anything related to love. The soup was placed on the table, and Li slowly moved her spoon around in it, stirring it in more than taking it to her mouth.
“What is it, Li?” I asked, seeing that she wasn’t her normal self.
“Nothing… nothing.” she replied, while her spoon kept moving around the soup bowl.
Silence dominated the air. I started to eat my soup. I didn’t know what was wrong with her, and I couldn’t see whether I had the right to investigate it. Sometimes women change their mood more frequently than they change their makeup and dress.
“You have not approached me since your visit to grandma’s house.” Li spoke almost in a whisper, and despite the tranquillity of the restaurant, I could barely hear her.
“Not approached you!” I looked at her, speaking softly. “Is that what you are upset about? We always meet, talk, and share thoughts.”
“You must have so many girls in your life.” Her eyes were still fixed on her soup bowl.
I couldn’t see her point. Her words were riddles for me to connect.
“What are you talking about, Li? Please tell me what is going on in your mind.”
“If you really don’t have any other girl, you would ask me to your apartment… you would… sleep with me again after that first night.” The tops of her cheeks reddened with blushes as she spoke those words.
Now things were clear to me. The fact that I had not been sleeping with her was, for her, a sign that I had other girls in my palace and that she was just a part-time toy to play with.
“I promise I have no other girl,” I said, reaching out my hand and placing it on her cheek. I brushed her cheek with my thumb and then moved my hand to her tiny chin and pinched there gently. “But giving this promise doesn’t mean that I am an ideal person. I have, like any man, a dark side to my life. It is only that I don’t want to hurt you, Li, and don’t want you to think of me as a guy who is just after your cunt.”
She laughed and held my hand with both of hers and placed a gentle kiss on my palm.
“I am so sorry for bringing this silly little thought to our relationship,” she murmured.
“I am happy you have spoken your heart.”
We had our soup then while exchanging glimpses and smiles. Looking at her innocent face, I felt guilty for being with her for now and for planning for my life beyond her expectations.
“Listen to me.” I looked at her seriously.
She swallowed what she had in mouth and opened her eyes with full attention.
“What if I was to marry you for less than a year, share life, love, and happiness with you, and then, say after ten months, leave you widowed where you can touch only the sand atop my grave.”
My words fell heavily on her and on me as well. I had spoken very seriously with no glint in my eye.
“You are scaring me, Gerald.” She attempted to smile but then dropped it, seeing my eyes fixed strongly and fiercely on her. “Yes. If you are seeking an answer, my answer is yes,” she quietly said.
“It is not a joke. I am asking you. Answer me seriously from your heart,” I demanded.
“Yes,” she answered after a pause and with her eyes now wet. “I swear it to God. Every moment with you is a blessing for me, and if you are talking about living with me for ten months as a husband, that is a lifetime for me. Being widowed is not scary. Losing a beloved one is completely bitter, but if you fill me with lovely memories, I will grow old embracing them.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know much about you, Gerald, and I am not interested in your past and your future plans. I am interested in your fidelity to me.”
A wet drop scrolled to the end of her eye and fell onto her cheek. I wiped it clear. Our bowls were empty of soup. Our eyes met regularly in a silent manner and our mouths were shut. I realized she was thinking now of what would come of the words exchanged between us just a couple of minutes ago. I had my plan for her. The couple two tables away were gone, and no one was there on our left except for a slightly tinted window that served as a mirror. Li’s eyes were fixed there mostly, avoiding looking at me directly, but not avoiding looking at me through my reflection on the mirror. In her pure innocence, she didn’t realize that I knew that she was looking at me. I pulled closer the embroidered napkin on the table, and still she didn’t turn her head. I took a pen from my pocket and started writing on the napkin, but still she didn’t turn her head. I folded the napkin and pushed it towards her, and now she responded and her eyes analysed the folded napkin for a while before unfolding it and reading my note. She covered her mouth with her hand and blushed in silent laughter.
“Okay,” she said as she moved her hand to cover her eyes. Her perfectly straight white teeth were fascinating.
My note on the napkin read,
Your mouth crystal and tits perfect and small,
My tongue wishes on your vagina to roll.
It is surprising that such a dirty comment could have an uplifting effect on some girls. I guess everything is different when you are with somebody you carry real feelings for, and that was the case with Li and me.
Twenty minutes later Li was sitting on the small sofa in my apartment, legs spread, skirt and panties off, and my head buried in between her warm thighs, licking the flaming cunt and bringing feverish moans out of her. Her whole body trembled, ravished with a current that was spiking through it just three minutes after starting the activity. Her thighs started closing up in a shiver, squeezing my head, and she started to lift her flattened bottom. I wrapped my arms around her and carried her small body like a child. I placed her on my lap and shook her like a bottle of whisky. My fingers rubbed every piece of her golden body. She went through multiple orgasms, and her small body made failed attempts to free her from my clenched hands that were wrapped around her waist till I h
ad my explosion. Li lay on the sofa and I on the floor, both out of breath. Her gasping was very deep, and she followed that with weak giggles, and so did I. I reached with my fingers after a while and started caressing her feet.
“I didn’t dream of having sex with you,” she laughed.
“You didn’t?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” she giggled again. “Many times during college. You were my crush.”
“And how was it in your dream?”
“Not as beautiful as it is in reality. You are amazing. You must have experienced many, many girls, right?”
That was a question I didn’t wish to answer, not to her, and I tried to escape the subject.
“How is your father?” I asked, recalling the mystery of him knowing my family.
“No one knows.” She was brushing the bottom of her foot on the thick hair of my chest.
“Where can I find him?”
“Why? He is not someone you should be with. No pure-hearted person would be with him.”
Pure-hearted person! How good that description would make anyone feel. But was I? People who love you would make an angel or even God out of you. I was nothing close to that.
“I might change him after all,” I commented.
“Change him!” she laughed. The tips of her feet fingers were smoothing my chest hair. “You cannot change a devil.”
“A devil!” I was surprised at her harsh words about her own father.
“You don’t know him. There is a rumour that he was the cause for the death of a family.”
That sentence rang in my ears loudly, with a shock that cemented me where I was. Was Gen related in some way to the tragedy of my family? More thoughts started to flow in my mind, and confusion followed. I was much hungrier now for the truth about Gen’s relationship to my family. I insisted that Li arrange a meeting between me and her father. She gave me his phone number but told me that I could find him in the Land Chrome night club almost every night.
MEMORIES from the EAST Page 17
