Tiger's Heart (22 page)

The heartache of being betrayed by my former best friend kept me quiet. Nobody was trustworthy, I told myself.

“Go start packing immediately,” Old Two ordered. “We gotta move.”

“Why do we need to move?” I protested. “Song told me the company is registered in his county, and he has been paying tax over there. We have nothing to be afraid of.”

Old Two sucked his lips a few times and looked at me pityingly. “Ah-Juan, you’re a smart girl, but why don’t you have any street smarts? Song is nothing but a rich rogue. Even if he registered the company in his home town, he still needs to register the office in Xiamen and pay taxes here. And who knows if he has even done this in his home town? I certainly know that he hasn’t registered it in Xiamen.”

“He’s been lying to me all along?”

“Just pack, and let’s get out of here!”

In a hurry, we moved to the eighteenth floor of an even newer building, into a bigger apartment with fancier furniture that overlooked the manmade lake in the middle of the city.

Song came to Xiamen the next day, and his eyes turned glazy when Old Two told him about the letter. I had never seen him so disoriented.

“I will find a way to pay back the taxes in my home town and resolve this problem as soon as I go back,” he promised.

“I hope you do,” I said. I didn’t trust this sleazy businessman, yet I felt powerless to protect myself.

21

SOON IT WAS
April. The willow trees around the lake started to blossom, and people swarmed to the teahouses at the beaches, spending their days sitting lazily in the sun and sipping tea.

It had only been two months since Xiao Yi had been fired, but my life seemed to be completely different already. Work took only a few hours every day, and I was left with tons of time to kill on my own. Finally I had money, but I was extremely lonely.

In the afternoons I often sat in the parterre in the open yard in front of the new building, staring at the sidewalk and the street and getting lost in a trance. The sound of a lifeless recorded female voice announcing the names of the bus stations mingled with the loud chirping of birds and crickets in the flowering shrubs behind me. I remembered someone once telling me proudly that every bus in Xiamen ran on vegetable oil, and that was why Xiamen had been voted the cleanest city in China. So what? I thought to myself. The sense of novelty

I had felt when I first arrived in Xiamen, the pride of being somewhere so gorgeous and exotic, was long gone. Everything in my world seemed to have lost its original bright color. I was back to being a lonely, miserable creature who had a lot of inexplicable wrath inside.

A spatter of giggling interrupted my thoughts. I saw a group of young girls in tube tops and high heels brushing past me on the sidewalk. Their faces were as fresh as peaches, and their laughter was as carefree as spring itself. I frowned enviously and reached for my purse. I took out a cigarette and lit it.

Jennifer, my new friend, had just taught me how to smoke.

“A long, thin cigarette dangling between your fingers with red nails—what could be sexier and cooler than this? Every man likes bad girls who can smoke,” she’d said.

I had gazed at her in the dim light of the bar she had taken me to, at her face painted with Shisheido powder and L’Oréal eye shadow, and hesitated for just a second. Nicotine’s danger came to mind, but then I dismissed the thought. I should just be happy that a trendy girl like her was willing to hang out with me, I told myself.

Jennifer and I had met one afternoon when I was especially bored with wandering the streets. I had gone into a spa, thinking that now that I had money, I should fix my rough peasant skin, which Ah Mei had once compared to a chicken’s. Just as I was standing over a giant bathtub and exclaiming at amount of the milk the girl had poured in—the kind of milk from real cows that was very hard to get in the hamlet—and vacillating about whether to get completely naked, Jennifer walked over in a lace bra and panties. She chastised the girl for cheating customers by putting in only three kilograms of milk instead of four as the price table stated. I gave her a thankful look, and we exchanged cell phone numbers and became friends.

Sitting in front of my building, I puffed out a streak of smoke and looked at my bare fingernails. I really needed to get a manicure and go to the newly opened Le Printemps department store to get more clothes. Otherwise, I would never be able to keep up with Jennifer, although I doubted that I would ever be as stylish as she was. She knew all the cool restaurants and bars in the city, especially places where foreigners hung out, and where to find the best steaks and desserts.

Jennifer had opened up a new part of city life to me, a life intimate with Western culture. The previous night, she had taken me to the Oriental Bar next to the best hotel in the city, the Marco Polo. Almost all the customers were Westerners and Chinese girls eager to hang out with Westerners. She’d introduced me to Corona, Heineken, Budweiser, and her American boyfriend.

“This is Danny,” she had said, pointing to the round guy sitting next to her with his arm around her shoulder. I’d looked at him curiously. Short and in his forties with a moustache, he looked a lot like the plastic statue of the Colonel that stood outside every KFC. The only difference was that he was wearing shorts and sneakers, with a pair of white socks pulled all the way up to his knees. If he had changed into pants and leather shoes and had been given a cane, he would have fooled every KFC-crazy Chinese kid in the city. At the thought, I’d had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

The sun was going down already. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly five o’clock. I had gotten myself out of my bed just two hours earlier, yet I was already feeling exhausted. I took out my cell phone.

“Hey, Jennifer, it’s me.”

“Hey, Caroline, meet you at KK around nine?”

“Sounds good. Shoot some pool after KK is closed?”

“Of course.”

Jennifer had turned me into a night animal who wouldn’t go to bed before dawn. KK, the most popular disco club in the city, closed at four in the morning, but Jennifer and I lingered in all sorts of dim-sum places and pool clubs every night until the taxi drivers changed shifts at six, and the new drivers picked us up as their first passengers of the day.

I walked back to the apartment. Old Two was busy in the kitchen with dinner. In the living room, the computer’s screen saver flashed
Caroline,
and I saw a few pieces of paper lying on the fax machine next to it. I sighed and grabbed them. Damn Europeans! Couldn’t they start their days a little earlier than three p.m. my time? I sat down at the desk listlessly and started my daily few hours—or minutes—of work. After faxing back and forth for a little while, I signed a deal for $100,000 worth of KOKETT machines with a German company before Old Two called me for dinner.

In my bedroom, I unlocked the top drawer of my desk and took out my bank account booklet. Seeing all the wire transfers from overseas in Euros or dollars, made at different times and in different amounts, I felt my heart beating a little faster. I found it hard to convince myself that I was becoming a wealthy woman. It felt strange and surreal, like I had climbed to the top of a skyscraper and was now looking down at the street, feeling dizzy and perplexed.

At nine o’clock, my taxi pulled under the tall metal arch of the KK disco club, where crowds gathered, waiting for a chance to sneak in. The fifty-yuan entrance fee was a lot for most people. The air was filled with the familiar smells of grilled lamb skewers from the barbecue stands on the sidewalks and heavy cologne and deodorant from the foreigners, who didn’t blink at throwing multiple fifty-yuan bills to the girl at the admission window.

I walked quickly toward the entrance, made of heavy metal and shaped like a giant tube leading to the club. As usual, several kids holding wilting flowers in their hands besieged me. Pulling my sleeves for all they were worth, they cried, “Sister, sister, buy some flowers from me!”

I kept walking. They followed me, tugging on my clothes with their dirty hands. At last I lost my patience and shouted, “I don’t want to buy flowers. Let me go!”

“Sister, please buy a flower from me,” one of the girls begged. “It’ll only cost you five yuan. I haven’t sold any today. My mother will be mad.”

I paused and dropped my eyes to her little dirty face. “Stop selling flowers on the street. Go back to school.”

“We don’t have money for school,” she answered right away. “We moved here from the countryside. Buy some flowers, buy some flowers!”

I looked at her and didn’t know what to say. I wanted to reach for my purse and give her some money, yet a voice inside warned me: don’t help these parents who use their kids to make money. As I was struggling with my conscience, one of the kids screamed to the others, “There’s a foreigner over there. Let’s go!” All of a sudden they let go of my clothes and dashed to a big-bellied American guy in a Dell T-shirt standing a few feet away from me.

I entered the club in an inexplicably gloomy mood. I spotted Jennifer’s pale, delicate face right away. She was sitting on a leather couch in a corner, on the other side of the bar that occupied the middle of the room. I walked over and sat down. I said hi to Danny when he looked up from touching and squeezing Jennifer all over for a moment.

Sitting quietly and sipping beer, I watched the couple flirting. Holding Jennifer’s leg up by her ankle, Danny ran his hand all over her skin and then bent down and kissed her ankle bracelet, which was made of tiny bells. Seeing him drooling all over her, I turned my head away. Jennifer was so pretty. Why was she sleeping with Danny, a man with a wife and three kids back in Cleveland? Working for Dell as a software engineer, Danny could live like a king in China. To Jennifer, he was probably just a sugar daddy. I wondered how much money he gave Jennifer every month. Five thousand, ten thousand yuan?

In the twinkling light of the club, I couldn’t tell exactly what I was feeling—envy for her for sleeping with rich foreigners for money or loathing for her for sleeping with rich foreigners for money. Perhaps money wasn’t the only thing Jennifer was getting. There was also jealousy from other girls and the prestige of hanging out with rich foreigners.

The DJ turned up the music, and suddenly the whole floor was shaking with the strong beats. The sound of Coco Lee singing “Di Do Di” blared from the giant speakers that seemed to be everywhere in the club. I grabbed the Corona bottle on the table and gulped down the awful beer, which cost ten times more at the club than it would have at a convenience store, and felt increasingly fretful in this drunk and dreamy world. There was a strong desire inside me. I realized that I hadn’t been with a man since I had left the South. Now I felt as if a hand were reaching out from my body and trying to grab men on its own.

A tall man leaned against the big metal column at the bar, watching the dancing crowd quietly. His long nose, blond hair, and athletic figure caught my eye. A few minutes later, Jennifer introduced him to me.

“This is Hafs, from Finland. He works for Nokia. You know they have a big factory here, right?” She seemed to know every foreigner in the city.

I stared up at him admiringly. He looked like the model in the Calvin Klein ad in a Western magazine that Jennifer had shown me.

“You are the most handsome man I have ever seen,” I said sincerely. I didn’t know how to be subtle. His eyes looked as cold as icebergs, but his haughty demeanor triggered something in me.

“Thank you.” He smiled politely.

We quietly watched the go-go girls in tall boots dancing on the bar. He kept drinking and rarely spoke. All I learned about him was that he had a wife and two kids in Finland.

When it was almost four o’clock in the morning, the music started to become sluggish, as did the crowd. Hafs stooped and grabbed his coat from the leather couch, and then with a faint smile he said, “Time to go.”

I watched his tall, broad back moving away from me in the crowd, and suddenly I felt a little lost. But after a few short steps, he paused, turned around, and asked, “Would you like to come with me?”

I hesitated only for a few seconds and then I followed him out of the club, into a taxi, and then to one of the most luxurious condos in the city. The view of the lake was supposed to be fantastic from this building, but I didn’t get the chance to see it. Without wasting any words, Hafs led me directly to his bedroom.

He laid me down on his bed and slowly took off my clothes. In the dark he kissed my lips, then my chest, and then gently moved his lips all the way down. When he pressed them on my bare skin, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. It was such a wonderful feeling, his lips kissing the most private spot on my body, a new feeling that I had never experienced before.

Hafs took a condom from his pants pocket and then, after putting it on, he slowly entered me. My body jerked with sudden pleasure. He held me tightly with his muscular arms, and I felt like screaming. But almost immediately, Hafs let out a groan and hunched his back.

“Sorry, I haven’t done this in a while.” He got up on his knees. I told him not to worry.

The next morning, as soon as I woke up and saw his cold blue eyes, I said a quick good-bye and rushed out of his apartment.

That night, when I saw Hafs walking in my direction at KK, my heart almost stopped beating. I gazed at him, ready to give him a sweet smile, but he passed by without looking at me, as if he had never met me before.

I looked around the smoky club blankly, deeply puzzled and hurt. Why didn’t he even talk to me, after the previous night?

Night after night, Hafs passed me in the club as if I was a total stranger. I watched his tall figure from a distance. I saw him holding other girls’ hands and leaving the club with them. Was I not good enough for him? That must have been it. Those other girls were flowers, and I was dirt. They were tall and slender, and I was short and chubby. I tortured myself with these thoughts in KK’s deafening music.

Jennifer, who had seen enough of my eyes following Hafs all over KK, reprimanded me. “Come on, Caroline. Haven’t you heard of a one-night stand? Foreigners, they sleep around. They play with Chinese girls. They never get serious with you. Be realistic. No need to get jealous of those girls who go home with Hafs. They just want money.”

I was at a loss for words. I didn’t understand why no one was ever serious, why everyone just wanted to play. Like Steven, who had fooled me with his deep voice and loving words. Like Hafs, who had taken me home and then treated me like a stranger.

I looked at the young girls in tiny shorts and high boots flirting with foreigners all over the club. I wasn’t sure I was any better than them. Sure, I didn’t need the money. I had enough on my own. But it didn’t seem to matter. I felt empty, lost like a kite with a broken string. I drank a lot of tequila that night and went home with an Australian guy.

A few nights later I got drunk again and got into a taxi with a German guy. The only things that I remember about him are that he was tall and thin, like a man made out of paper; that he worked as an engineer for a German forklift company; and that he had a huge penis that hurt me like hell. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get drunk and sleep with foreigners.