Shadowboxer

by Tricia Sullivan

  ‘You have done well,’ he said. She dared to glance up at him, just a peep, and for a moment her heart seemed to spread tiny frail wings of hope. ‘I am glad I chose you among all the orphans.’

  But I am not an orphan, she wanted to say. My family are prisoners of the army in my country.

  ‘You brought me back with no help. Your mind is strong.’

  Mya kept her gaze down, nodding meekly again. She waited for him to say the words she hoped for, but he didn’t. As he continued talking her heart seemed to shrink, and her hope folded its wings, confused.

  ‘Mya. You must never travel to the forest without me. Its nature is mysterious, and there are many doors that can take you from the forest, but those doors don’t all come here. They can lead to places all over the world. You would soon be lost without me. Sometimes children think they are old enough to do things on their own. Those are the children who get lost in the forest. There are many spirits. Many ghosts, and they are hungry. Do you understand?’

  Mya nodded, trembling. Mr Richard was at his gentlest. He spoke slowly and clearly, as if he didn’t realize how much English she understood now. He knew many hidden things, but maybe he didn’t know about the many hours of YouTube she had watched while he slept.

  ‘Do you see that tree out there?’

  He pointed to the bodhi tree beside the porch. It shaded a wide area near the house, and some of its branches came right down to the ground, where they had rooted to make new trees.

  ‘This bodhi tree was once another kind of tree. The bodhi seed germinated high up the branches of the other tree. Over time, the bodhi tree grew until it swallowed the other tree and became great—immortal, even. See how it puts down new roots?’

  She nodded, wearily because he had spoken of this before.

  ‘I am the bodhi tree, Mya, and you are going to be the little tree inside.’

  This made no sense. What did he even mean?

  ‘I have been working for a long time to make the final medicine for us. When it is ready, this medicine will let me give you a great honor. When my body wears out, my power will move to you. You will come under my branches just like the mortal tree came under the bodhi tree. Look at it! Isn’t it beautiful?’

  Baffled, she said nothing.

  ‘But for the moment we must think of practical matters.’

  He reached into his pocket and produced a fresh vial of the night orchid extract. Then he took out a paper envelope sealed with wax.

  ‘I took too much last time,’ he said. ‘If that ever happens again, you must give me this antidote. I keep it in the third drawer down.’

  He held up the envelope. ‘You know that this powder comes from the venom of the naga. It is very precious. I always carry it with me when we go to the forest, but I was distracted by Johnny’s incompetence, and I forgot.’

  ‘I understand,’ Mya said. He was trying to show his gratitude. No wonder she had been allowed to watch Nang Rai. She tried not to squirm.

  ‘Mya. Something is troubling you. What is it?’

  Oh, his voice was the softest. Such a dangerous question. She summoned all her courage.

  ‘Will I... will they...?’

  ‘What is it, child?’

  ‘Please, I only wondered... may I go back to my family now?’

  He inhaled sharply. He had been leaning toward her with kind concern, but now he pulled back. Insulted.

  ‘Ah. I see. But you have not understood. You think nothing of your family with your selfishness. Your duty is here. You belong with me now.’

  Her mother always complained that Mya disappeared when she should be working. She saw things no one else could see and believed they were true. Mya’s disobedience would ruin her, people said. Her lies would ruin her. But they had said these things gently, and with humor; Mya had been funny and strange, but her family loved her. Would they not want her back?

  I would never go to the forest again if I could be back with my family, she thought.

  Mya kept her eyes focused on a knot in the wood of the floor. She would not break. She would not cry. She would not beg. Those things would only arouse his anger. She thought of the beaten man abandoned in the forest.

  ‘My body cannot suffer these medicines forever, child. There will come a time, soon, when instead of dying my spirit will take a new body. And you, my child, you will be the house for my spirit so that my work can continue. My identity will pass into you. And my power.’

  Mya fought to control her trembling body. She kept her eyes downcast. Just like the virtuous girl in Nang Rai.

  He put his hand on her head, and the touch soothed. The medicines he took ensured that he had such power over people. She found that she forgot to be afraid.

  ‘Mya.’

  Mr Richard’s voice was always soft, but now it had an extra quality. Like sugar. Like magic. Like stars.

  The hairs on her arm stood up with attention.

  ‘Mya, you have nothing to fear when you are with me. You have a great destiny, and I will let no harm come to you. When the time comes, my power will be yours and you will be my eyes and hands in the world. We will become more than human. We will be immortal, just like the bodhi tree.’

  She stared. The medicines he used made Mr. Richard so big. Not big like Johnny the hard man, but big like the sky, big like sunlight and wind. He seemed to fill in all the places where she was lacking, so that she could lean into him and trust him to make her safe.

  Until the medicine wore off, and then she would just want to run away.

  ‘Now,’ he said brusquely, and waved a slip of paper at her with an address on it. ‘Let’s go. We have to see an old friend and hand out some charisma in a bottle.’

  Mr. Richard was always concocting medicines in the little room beside the prayer room. Money flowed in through invisible banking transactions and in the form of information or favors by video link or encrypted message, and medicines flowed out. In the time that Mya had been working for Mr. Richard, most of the medicines had been passed along through the forest. Mya handed packages to people who waited in the doorways among the trees. Doorways to other places, the places where Mr. Richard had warned her not to go alone. Sometimes she took other children chosen from the orphanage across the forest to new homes. Sometimes she met other children and gave them the medicines wordlessly, with an exchange of shy smiles. The forest played host to a network of transactions that were invisible in the outer world.

  Mya waited on her prayer cushion facing out the window. Mr Richard’s body shuddered when the night orchid extract went into his blood.

  She poured her mind into the forest all around, out into the leaves that gave shape to sunlight. She could find the forest anywhere that green things were growing. She reached toward Mr. Richard and he took her hand.

  They were standing at the base of a fir tree caught in the act of falling by the branches of its neighbours. The tree hung suspended with its roots exposed. It was still alive, and there were mushrooms all over the shadow-side of its trunk. Mya paused to pick some of these; Mr. Richard could use them for their unearthly properties.

  ‘We need to go somewhere new,’ Mr. Richard murmured, spreading a pungent salve over his nostrils. ‘The place is called Combat Sports Emporium in New Jersey, USA. Focus, Mya. Help me find it. I am not as strong as I was.’

  Mya peered into the forest, expecting to see the boy ghost, or the dying journalist. She willed herself to keep thinking of Combat Sports Emporium, until at last the salt smell of sweat came to her. She reached out and parted the spatulate leaves of an otherworldly fern, and a gust of air brought with it not the smell of dirt, but a smoky, chemical musk.

  She could see an opening in the shadows of the half-fallen tree. The room beyond was small, dark and cluttered; its air had been breathed in and out too many times. There was a ficus plant in a pot in the corner; it needed more light and it wasn’t watered enough, but it was alive. Harsh music thumped through the walls. In a sliver of light Mya could see an al
tar with photographs, a chipped Buddha statue, and a porcelain gecko. She could see piles of cardboard boxes, stacks of file folders and a wall of trophies with a white towel draped over the largest. She had never been to this place before.

  A slim person was standing just outside the frame of the light, shifting from side to side nervously. Through the opening in the worlds the person spoke to Mr. Richard in English. The voice was soft and low, and it could have been male or female.

  ‘Richard, I swear I have never spoken to anyone about you,’ the shadow murmured. ‘I would never betray you.’

  In a shaking voice Mr. Richard said, ‘Don’t forget it was me that got you out of Bangkok. And I can bring you down any time I want.’

  Then he was pressing a little black plastic bag into Mya’s hands.

  ‘Give it over and come straight back,’ Mr Richard said. ‘Hurry up.’

  Mya slid through the gap between worlds into a gust of cool, smelly air from Combat Sports Emporium. She set the bag down on the floor, ducking her head respectfully. She glimpsed a glass-covered window. Instead of letting in light from outside, it let in fluorescence from another room. Bare-chested Westerners in shorts were skipping rope on the other side of an empty boxing ring. Some were hitting hanging bags with muffled smacking sounds and shouts.

  ‘Thank you, little one,’ the person said softly in Thai. They didn’t give her anything in exchange. Mya retreated to the warmth and floral smells of the forest.

  ‘I am tired,’ said Mr. Richard. He reached for her hand. ‘Take me back, Mya, before I get sick again. I look forward to the day when I can leave my body behind and come with you. My spirit will be so happy in the house of your body.’

  His chilly fingers were the color of old paper.

  Escalating Fuckup Series

  AT MANDINO’S THAT night I told Chrissie I had to quit without notice. I offered to work one last shift. She chewed me out some and then she ended up getting all teary. She said that if it didn’t work out for me in Thailand she’d always have a job for me. I guess she’s OK. I mean, I work hard and I don’t steal, and I never hit anybody at that job, so I guess I’m a good dishwasher. I think she thinks I’m cute. If only she knew.

  I was just closing up the kitchen for the night when Cake showed up, all fresh-faced and smiling.

  ‘Now don’t take this the wrong way, Jade.’

  That’s his opening. I hate it when people do that. I’m already taking it the wrong way.

  ‘Let me guess, you’ve come to laugh at my pronunciation,’ I quipped, hefting the bag of pig swill out of its container. ‘All the times you’ve tried teaching me to speak Thai and I suck, right?’

  I dropped the bag on the floor and started dragging it towards the back door. Cake sidestepped neatly. He looked all spiffed-up, freshly showered after training, clothes ironed, not a hair out of place. I looked like a rat under a hair net. I was finishing up my shift, which means leaving the kitchen clean. Everybody else had already gone home, except Manuel who was running the vacuum in the foyer.

  ‘I want to talk to you about your temper,’ he said, following me out back. He has a soft, singsong voice—kind of high-pitched, too—and he’s only about five foot seven in shoes. If you know how to look, you can tell he’s strong, but a lot of people don’t know how to look. People think ‘Cake’ stands for ‘Cupcake’ or something.

  It don’t.

  ‘What temper?’ I heaved the bag into position for pickup and started stacking cardboard boxes to make room for the rest of the garbage. It was a warm night and I could hear Eminem’s ‘Go to Sleep’ coming from the open windows of a car stopped at lights.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Cake said. ‘I am not passing judgement, I only want to share something with you.’

  Sometimes it takes my brain a little while to catch up with my mouth. The truth is, in the time I’ve known Cake, he’s never given me any kind of advice, he’s never criticised me, and he’s about as low-key as anybody I’ve ever met. He studies engineering at Stevens Institute and lives in Mr B’s basement. He sends money home to Thailand. He’s never been anything but humble, even though we all know that in a standup fight he could take anybody in the gym except maybe Khari, who outweighs him by about 80 pounds.

  I sighed, wiped my forehead with the back of my filthy hand, and let myself flop against the stucco wall. It smelled bad out here but at least it was dark.

  ‘OK, pana, what about my temper?’

  Now all of a sudden his face screws up and he can’t look at me straight. He’s embarrassed.

  ‘You see, in Thailand it’s not like New York. People aren’t...’

  ‘What?’ I said, laughing. ‘Loud? Rude?’

  ‘Sort of. Yeah. They won’t respect you if you always show impatience, act pushy. You won’t make no friends. You need friends, Jade. When I came here, I didn’t know anybody except my uncle. Everybody was so angry here, so rushing all the time, nobody talks to you. If you ask them questions they are rude. Where I come from, people are good people. If you try not be so... aggressive, then you will be OK there.’

  ‘I’m not aggressive,’ I said.

  ‘If somebody upsets you,’ Cake said, ‘You got to just relax. Don’t worry about it. Flow with the go.’

  ‘Cake, I’m a fighter.’

  ‘Me, too. Remember?’

  We both laughed and I said, ‘OK, OK, true.’

  ‘In the ring is fighting but after we smile and hug. We are kind to each other. You understand?’

  I sighed again.

  ‘Jade. It’s too much. You would fight your own shadow. You only end up hurting yourself.’

  ‘I don’t know, Cake. I was brought up on attitude. That’s how I got where I am.’

  ‘OK, OK, no problem,’ said Cake, and he literally backed away. ‘Just some good advice for you. I hope you will be happy in my uncle’s camp.’

  Now he was walking away from me, through the kitchen, stepping carefully so he wouldn’t get his shoes dirty on the trail of slime that the pig swill bag had left on the tiles.

  ‘Wait,’ I said, following. ‘Is there anything else I should know? Can you teach me some curse words?’

  ‘Keep practicing,’ he said, flashing a smile over his shoulder. Then Chrissie was there, an envelope with my cash in her hand, and he was slipping around her while she started asking if my cousin Luis could do anything about the ignition in her Mercedes. Then he was gone.

  I went home and told Malu what Cake said. She listened while she fed the fish and skimmed their tank.

  ‘You, learning to take it easy? That could be asking too much. On the other hand, this could be an opportunity for you.’

  ‘Have you been talking to my mom again?’ I closed my eyes. Mom had called me on the restaurant’s phone—she’s resourceful, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if she took out skywriting to get her message across: STAY OUT OF TROUBLE, JADE. She yapped away in my ear. Was I sure? Did I promise to be careful? Would I call her every day? I decided to let Mr. B explain to her that I had no phone.

  Now Malu flashed her eyes. ‘As a matter of fact, I did talk to your mom. And I had to swear upside down and sideways that you’ll be safe on this trip. So you better. Don’t get into it with anybody.’

  ‘Fine.’

  I thought I kept my voice neutral, but she gave me her Look.

  ‘What, Jade? Spill.’

  She knew me too well. Me and my cousin had been close since my mom moved from Queens to Union City to get away from my dad. Even in those days Malu was big and womanly-looking and smart, but she got pushed around by pretty much everybody because she never stood up for herself. I was scrawny and truant and back in Queens I’d had a lot of fights. I picked fights because I liked everybody to know that I might be small, but I was no pushover. I was Malu’s bodyguard for years, and she made me do my homework.

  Then Malu got a scholarship to private school and we were separated. We lived in different worlds. Malu lived away from home, where she got educated and
cultured. ‘You’re like a butterfly coming out of your cocoon,’ I used to rag her, and Malu would say, ‘You’re like bullshit coming out of a bull.’

  Then my aunt and uncle moved to Virginia, but Malu stayed to go to college in the city. I was starting eleventh grade when our grandmother was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer and my mom went back to the Dominican Republic to take care of her. Malu moved in to keep an eye on me, and she was doing that literally right now. She was drilling me with her eyes. I didn’t flinch.

  Eventually she said, ‘You know you’re going to tell me.’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Malu snorted.

  ‘Nothing!’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘OK. OK, but it’s stupid.’

  She raised her eyebrows, waiting.

  ‘I’m scared of Thailand,’ I said.

  Malu rolled her eyes. ‘Come on. You’ve been wanting to go to Thailand to train ever since you started in with this Mr. Big dude. Now you do something really stupid, hit a movie star who could have you arrested, and with your luck you manage to turn it around so you get what you wanted to do anyway, which was to go to Thailand. Where does the scared part come in?’

  ‘I know it doesn’t make sense,’ I said. ‘You’re right. I have always wanted to train there. It’s just that everything’s happening so fast. And I’m... scared. Of myself.’

  ‘Yourself.’ Malu can lay on the mock about three feet deep just by the tone she uses. I ignored her tone. I said:

  ‘I think I can feel a fuckup coming on.’

  Malu sighed. She went in the kitchen and came out with a plant mister. Malu is an earth-mother type. She keeps plants, and fish, and of course there’s Coltrane the iguana, who she sneaked into the apartment without Irene the super finding out. As she started spritzing the Norfolk pine, she had a disapproving pout on her lips.

  ‘Seriously,’ I said. ‘I can feel it building, you know like an electric charge before a thunderstorm. Probably my biggest yet.’

  ‘What have I been telling you about thinking positive, Jade?’

  ‘I’m not trying to make it happen. It just is. I mean, bad things happen in threes, right? Well, I’ve messed up twice so far, you know? First when I stomped that girl’s head. Second, I lose my temper and knock out the world’s second biggest kung fu movie star. This is definitely an escalating fuckup series.’