The Goddess of Yantai

by Ian Hamilton

  Ava turned and saw four men standing in the dark with their backs pressed against the wall. “Not again,” she said.

  “You just won’t listen, will you,” the now familiar man in the balaclava said.

  “Go to the house,” Ava said to Fai. “Alert the neighbours. Get some help. Hurry.”

  Fai took several steps backwards and then spun and headed for the house. One of the men started to move in her direction, but Ava went to the right and stood in his path.

  Ava stared at the men. She recognized only the one in the balaclava. The others formed another motley crew, two in hoodies and the third in a frayed denim jacket and baseball cap. They fanned out and moved towards her. That part of the courtyard was dimly lit, and Ava started retreating towards where there was more light. As she backed up, they followed, not rushing, and looking purposeful.

  It was still raining hard. Ava didn’t care that she was getting wet, but she was worried about the rain getting into her eyes and clouding her vision. These guys are more professional, she thought. It was one thing to take on two overconfident thugs, but another to fight three guys who knew what they were doing and knew what she was capable of.

  “Why do you keep doing this?” she shouted at Balaclava, who was hanging back. “You’re going to get your money.”

  He said nothing, and Ava saw that the men were now uncomfortably close. She thought about turning and running to the house, but she was wearing pumps and didn’t know how fast she could move. She also knew that if they caught her from behind, she would be essentially defenceless. Come on, Fai, she whispered, and then tried to think how she could buy more time.

  The men couldn’t have known what was on her mind, but they weren’t waiting anyway. They came at her in unison. She reacted instinctively, her right fist driving the phoenix eye into the face of the man on her right while her left foot found the groin of the one in front of her. That left the man on her left free. As he swung at her, she saw in the courtyard light the glimmer of metal. The cleaver struck her upper left arm. She staggered back, trying to find a better position from which she could defend. He took two steps forward and raised the cleaver again, but before it could descend, a gunshot rang out.

  “Drop that weapon or I promise I’ll kill you,” a man’s voice said. “I’m an ex-cop. I know what I’m doing with this gun. I won’t miss.”

  Ava glanced behind her. Fai was standing with Fan and the elderly couple from the night before. In front of them, a man was pointing a gun at the attackers.

  The man with the cleaver stared at Ava and then shook his head. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said to his colleagues as he threw his weapon on the ground.

  Ava saw them start to run towards the exit, but her interest in them began to wane as her vision blurred and she felt a searing pain in her arm. She looked at it. Her shirt sleeve had a six-inch rip over the upper arm, exposing her flesh. The gash was several inches long, but Ava was more concerned about how deep it was. It looks deep enough, she thought as blood ran down the length of her arm and trickled over the back of her hand.

  “This young woman needs to go to a hospital,” said the man with the gun.

  ( 47 )

  The man with the gun was named Lam. He was a former policeman, five years retired, and he had lived in the house on the other side of the elderly couple for more than twenty years. He hadn’t been at home when Ava was attacked the previous night; otherwise, he said, she would have met him then. She and Fai tried to express their gratitude for his coming to her rescue, but after a few words he cut them off.

  “We’re like a family here,” he said.

  He went back with them to Fai’s house and joined them in the bathroom. He tore the sleeve of her shirt until the wound was fully exposed. “You’ll need stitches — probably a lot of them. You might need blood as well, because you’ve already lost quite a bit,” he said. “We should wrap that arm as tightly as we can before we head for the hospital.”

  “I don’t have anything to wrap it with,” Fai said.

  “I have bandages at my place. I’ll go get them,” he said. “In the meantime, you help her off with that shirt and then, as gently as you can, wipe off as much blood as possible. She should be wearing a T-shirt or something short-sleeved.”

  Fai didn’t start crying until they heard the front door close. “This is too much,” she said through her tears.

  “I agree with you, but it’s also ridiculous, and we have to end it. If Chen doesn’t contact you tonight, we’ll find him tomorrow.”

  “How?”

  “We’ll figure that out later.”

  Fai stared at the gaping wound. “Does it hurt badly?”

  “My adrenalin is still pumping. It will hurt more in an hour or two.”

  “I can’t begin to imagine what that feels like.”

  Ava was sitting on the toilet seat, and now she slumped forward. “I’m feeling a bit weak.”

  Fai kneeled and wrapped her arms around Ava’s waist. “I’ll stay quiet,” she said.

  It was only a few minutes, but seemed longer, before Lam returned. He ran up the stairs and stopped at the bathroom door. “You didn’t change her shirt,” he said.

  “Sorry,” Fai said.

  “It’s okay, but you need to move away from her if I’m to put on a bandage.”

  Fai stood and retreated a couple of steps. Lam went to Ava’s side, gripped the shirt sleeve, and ripped it wide open. “Do you have a clean sponge?” he asked Fai.

  She took one from the bathroom cupboard and handed it to him. He gently patted the area around the cut until it was clearly visible, then he squeezed ointment onto the wound and began to wrap layers of white gauze around it. “I was told you didn’t call the police last night,” he said.

  “We had no idea who those guys were,” Ava said. “The same is true for tonight.”

  “And you don’t know why they seem to have targeted you?”

  “No.”

  “That’s hard to believe.” He shook his head as he kept wrapping. “Are you going to be able to walk to the corner so we can get a taxi?”

  “I think so.”

  “I understand you’re not from Beijing.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So I assume you don’t know our local hospitals. Fai, which one do you prefer?”

  “I’ve always gone to the United Family Hospital in Chaoyang.”

  “Well, get your friend a coat and we’ll head there.”

  Ava stayed seated until Fai returned with her Adidas jacket. When she stood to put it on, she felt a bit woozy and leaned against Lam. He was tall, at least six feet, and sturdily built, so he could easily support her.

  “Could you wait one more minute?” Fai asked. “I want to change. I don’t want to go to the hospital dressed like this.”

  “I’ll take your friend downstairs. We’ll meet you there.”

  Lam walked ahead of Ava, her right hand resting on his shoulder, as they descended. When they reached the front door, she stood with her back against it as they waited for Fai.

  “How deep did the cut look?” Ava asked.

  “It’s more of a slash than a cut. He didn’t hit bone — which isn’t to minimize it, or the pain you must be feeling.”

  “Thanks for the help.”

  “I’d feel better if you let me contact some of the local police.”

  “No, there’s no point to it. We don’t know who they are,” Ava said. “But do you think it’s possible they could be hanging around outside, waiting for a second chance?”

  “I still have my gun with me,” he said. “If they try again, I won’t be firing warning shots.”

  “I’m ready,” Fai said from the top of the stairs, and then came bounding down in jeans and a bulky blue sweater with a shawl collar. She grabbed a cap from the stack by the door, put i
t on Ava’s head, and took one for herself.

  “I’ll need my wallet, Fai. It’s in my bag on the other side of the door.”

  Fai removed the wallet, put it into her bag, and then grabbed the Callaway umbrella.

  When they stepped outside, they found the rain had let up, but Fai opened the umbrella anyway and held it over Ava.

  “Put your good arm around my waist,” Lam said.

  Ava did, and felt the gun tucked into the back of his trousers. “Let’s go.”

  It was a slow but uneventful walk to the end of the hutong, where they all got into a taxi. Lam gave the driver the hospital address and then told him exactly what streets he wanted him to take to get there.

  “Have you checked your phone recently?” Ava asked Fai when they were en route.

  “I did as I was changing. No calls.”

  Ava laid her head on Fai’s shoulder. “If he doesn’t phone in the next hour, start calling him.”

  “I will.”

  The drive from the hutong to Chaoyang was far quicker than it had been earlier in the day. In less than thirty minutes the taxi stopped in front of the emergency services entrance of the United Family Hospital. Lam paid the driver, despite objections from Fai, helped Ava from the car, and led her inside. The waiting room wasn’t full, but Ava estimated there had to be about twenty people there.

  “We have to register before a doctor will see you,” Fai said.

  They went to the registration desk, where Ava and Fai took seats facing a woman who wore what Ava assumed was a nurse’s uniform. The woman was working on her computer and ignored them for several minutes. Finally she looked up and said, “What seems to be the problem?”

  “My name is Lam, and I’m an officer with the Municipal Public Security Bureau,” he said, standing behind Ava and Fai. “This young woman is a visitor to our city. She was attacked in public by a mugger who had a meat cleaver. He struck her on the arm and there’s a large wound that needs immediate treatment.”

  The woman looked up at Lam, and as she did, he thrust a badge in her face. “I want you to give her priority.”

  “Yes, officer. We’ll see that she’s looked after right away,” the woman said. “But can I see her identification so she can be properly registered?”

  Fai reached into her bag, took out Ava’s wallet, and passed it to her. Ava handed over her Canadian driver’s licence and health card.

  “No passport?” the woman said.

  “I forgot it.”

  “Don’t bother her with that right now,” Lam said. “I’ll get it later if you need it.”

  “I still need a local address.”

  Fai rattled off hers.

  The woman looked displeased, but Lam was a looming official presence and she wasn’t going to argue with him. A few moments later she pushed a button on the side of her desk. Double automatic doors with the sign emergency patients only above them swung open. “You can go through now,” she said to Ava.

  “Can I join her?” Fai asked.

  “No visitors are allowed until the doctor has seen her and decided on a course of action,” the woman said, looking at Lam. “That’s the policy and it’s firm.”

  “I’ll wait for you here,” Fai said.

  Ava walked through the doors and was met by the woman. She handed Ava a card with a number on it and pointed to a line of cubicles beyond a nursing station.

  “You’re in cubicle C. Take a seat or lie down. The doctor will be with you soon.”

  Ava had an aversion to hospitals. She couldn’t remember how it had started, but from an early age she felt afraid every time she stepped inside one. She didn’t like the smells. She didn’t like being surrounded by sick people. And she couldn’t stop thinking about death. She knew rationally that hospitals were where people went to be cured, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how many wouldn’t be.

  When Uncle was dying of cancer, she had stayed in Hong Kong for several months and visited him every day. Even though she knew for certain that he was dying, she was able to handle it emotionally while he was still living at home. But as soon as he moved into the hospital, she started to fall apart. The hospital represented finality, and even when someone wasn’t desperately ill, being admitted to hospital felt like the beginning of a path that led to finality. Or so she thought as she sat on the bed in cubicle C with the curtains drawn, listening to a man in the next cubicle moan in pain.

  After a few minutes her curtains were opened and she found herself looking at a handsome young man with a nurse standing behind him.

  “I’m Doctor Chew,” he said. “And you’re Ms. Ava Lee?”

  “I am.”

  “I see from the chart that you’re from Canada.”

  “Toronto.”

  “I went to medical school at McGill University in Montreal.”

  “Great school.”

  “It certainly is, from my experience,” he said, and looked at the chart. “It says here that you were attacked by a mugger who had a meat cleaver. That’s odd, even for Beijing.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “And he struck you on the upper arm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, let’s take a look at it,” he said and nodded to the nurse.

  She was a short, stout, middle-aged woman who had a nice smile, warm eyes, and gentle hands. She helped Ava take off her jacket and then said, “We have to remove these bandages. It will be easier if you’re not wearing the shirt.”

  “Sure,” Ava said.

  Dr. Chew left the cubicle while the nurse removed Ava’s shirt and replaced it with a short-sleeved hospital gown. In spite of the nurse’s gentle hands, the nerve endings in Ava’s arm burned as the shirt passed over them. The pain started to ramp up even more as the bandages were unwound. Ava winced, her eyes watered, and she felt a slight sense of alarm when she saw the blood-soaked gauze.

  Dr. Chew stepped back into the cubicle and examined the wound. “You can move the arm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then the bone is probably intact. But it’s still a very nasty cut. It will have to be cleaned and sewn up, and I believe you’ll need an anaesthetic,” he said. “Unless you have an incredible threshold for pain, I don’t recommend you be awake while we do it.”

  “You’ll do the procedure?”

  “No, a colleague will. He’s very good.”

  “When?”

  He looked at his watch. “Sometime during the next hour. You’ve been given high-level priority,” he said, and then looked at the chart again. “Can I ask you, how is it that a superintendent from the Municipal Public Security Bureau brought you here in person?”

  “I guess I was just fortunate that he was nearby when I was attacked,” Ava said. “And Doctor, I’m here with a friend. Can she come in and see me?”

  “No visitors are allowed in here. She can see you in the recovery room after you’ve woken from the procedure.”

  “Will someone tell her what’s going on?”

  “Sure, I’ll ask the registration desk to inform her. What’s her name?”

  Ava hesitated and then said, “Pang Fai.”

  “Please don’t joke with me.”

  “I’m not.”

  He smiled. “You were brought here by a superintendent from the Security Bureau and the actress Pang Fai?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What is it you do in life, Ms. Lee?”

  “At present I’m simply a Canadian tourist trying to enjoy Beijing — and not doing a very good job of it.”

  ( 48 )

  The first thing she was aware of was pain. It was indistinct, almost detached from her. But then she turned to her left and her body lit up. Ava groaned and opened her eyes to see a white ceiling and bright overhead lights. She heard someone else groan and looked to her right. She
was in a room with four other patients, all of them hooked up to IV drips. She looked down and saw she had an IV as well.

  I’m in a hospital in Beijing and I’ve had surgery to repair my left arm, she thought. A thick wad of bandage stuck out below the sleeve of her gown. “Hello?” she said.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” a nurse said, approaching the bed. “How do you feel?”

  “A bit rough.”

  “The doctor will prescribe painkillers. They’ll take the edge off.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten past eleven.”

  “When can I leave?”

  “You’ll have to stay until the doctor examines you, but if you’re fine then, there’s really no reason you can’t leave tonight.”

  “Can you let him know I’m awake?”

  “I will.”

  “And I have a friend waiting for me. I was told she could see me in here.”

  “She’s with someone else — a man — in our administration offices. Once we knew who she was, we were reluctant to leave her in the general waiting room. It would have caused a ruckus if she’d been recognized.”

  “Thank you for doing that.”

  “It isn’t often we have celebrities here.”

  “Could you ask her to come and see me?”

  “Sure, that won’t be a problem. The doctor is occupied with another patient, so you won’t see him for another half-hour at least.”

  Ava closed her eyes and pressed her head back into the pillow. She imagined she’d now have another scar, and unlike the one on her hip and the smaller ones on her lower back, this one would make it more difficult to wear dresses. Then she thought, That’s vain, and then as quickly, What’s wrong with caring how I look? I am my father and mother’s daughter.

  She looked at her arm and grimaced as it struck her that she’d been sloppy in the way she had handled almost everything and everyone connected to this blackmail. She had spent too much time running around and not enough time thinking. She had made a lot of assumptions, including the belief that the blackmailers wouldn’t try to assault them again. But really, how wrong had she been to think that? What kind of blackmailers resorted to physical violence before getting paid? None that she had ever encountered. And this time there had been no warning phone call or follow-up demands that she knew of. Was the blackmail just bullshit? Was it a smokescreen to disguise another purpose? They had targeted her twice and left Fai alone. Maybe they thought getting rid of her would make Fai more compliant to their demands. But how did they even know who she was?