Chapter Nine
When Sally escaped, she drove directly home, but it was almost three o'clock when she arrived. Everyone in the house was in bed. She could only go to her own bedroom and sleep. When she woke up, it was eight; she jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs in her pajamas. Her mother walked Alida to school everyday except when school was closed. The new semester had already begun and they had left for school. Her father and sisters were sitting at the dining room table, having breakfast. Their office generally opened at nine and her father's video store at ten. So they could have time for a nice talk. Sally sat down at the table and related her encounter with the five men last night.
“So you had an adventure. How exciting was it?” Tricia eyed Sally, grinning impishly.
Sally made no answer, raising her right hand to cover her mouth as she gave a great mute yawn.
“Could you tell what party they belonged to?” her father put forth the question.
“Not really.” Sally felt frustrated.
There are different parties in kungfu circles just like in political circles. Different parties have different kungfu styles, like Shaolin Temple (it's a party, too) has Shaolin style of kungfu. From the style a person performed, people could identify which party he or she belonged to. Later, therefore, some parties teach their disciples the mixed styles they have stealthily learned from other parties to cover their origin. That is often used for evil purposes. Besides, parties often invent new styles so that people cannot identify them when they are first used. However, Sally was not experienced enough to distinguish what their original style was when people used mixed styles. Only those who were very much familiar with the styles of all the parties could tell the difference between the original style and the furtively learned styles because it was inevitable that there were some traces of imperfection in the latter styles when some kungfu thief performed them.
“We'll go together this weekend. It's not because I want to avenge you, but because Uncle Charles's death is mostly concerned with the kungfu circle. So I'd like to meet anyone who can perform kungfu to get whatever clue I can,” Lois announced her decision.
“Be careful,” her father warned.
“We will, Dad,” replied Tricia. “We are all older than Nancy Drew. Besides, we have kungfu while Nancy can only exercise some judo kicks.”
“Should we take some weapons? At least some daggers?” Sally asked.
“No, we don't want to get into trouble with the New York police,” Lois said.
“What if I take a pair of big scissors? They are not illegal weapons, I hope,” said Sally with sham seriousness, though she made great efforts not to giggle and to keep a straight face.
“We should have registered weapons for our own defense,” Tricia suggested. “The police detectives all carry weapons. We should, too, even though we're private.”
***
Sam called their office after they arrived and talked to Lois. “What'll you do this weekend, Lois? I need a break. I've been too busy. I don't even have time to go to the bathroom.”
Lois told him their plan for the weekend. Sam was excited. “Count me in, will you, Lois? I can help.” The thought of being together with Lois for the weekend was more than exciting.
Lois could not refuse him since they worked together so often. “I'll pick you three up at nine,” he offered. After some more chitchat they hung up. Lois was not so excited. She knew that before kungfu people Sam was vulnerable. She didn't want him to be hurt if she could prevent it.
Sharply at nine, a soft honk of the horn was heard in front of the house. The three sisters filed out the door in a beeline and got into Sam's car. They wore black pants, dark-colored jackets and the brown uniform shoes that would suit them best in case there would be a fight. Lois sat in the front seat, the other two sisters in the back. Sally offered Tricia a piece of gum, but Tricia declined, saying, “I am not a gum addict.” Sally shrugged and put one into her own mouth.
“It's really a surprise to me that you can be so punctual today, Sam,” Sally joked in the backseat diagonally across from Sam, whose tardiness was notorious among all his acquaintances and friends.
“I have to, if I don't want my life thread to be cut.” Sam glanced at Sally from the rearview mirror.
“Sam,” Lois interrupted, “you should learn kungfu. It's helpful for your work.”
“I wish I could. Really don't have time. They'll call me on my cell phone any time after office hours, if I have any office hours. The sound of the ring often wakes me up right in the middle of my sweet dreams,” he sighed dejectedly and temporarily shut his eyes.
“Look out!” Sally yelped the warning, the gum falling out of her mouth into her lap. Sam opened his eyes. The car before him stopped short in front of the red light. Sam had to slam down the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front on the bumper, making the two girls in the backseat swing forward. The girls in the back had to use their hands to hold the backs of the front seats to prevent their heads from knocking into the headrests. “You want to kill us or what, Sam Dawson?” Sally shouted in rage, as she retrieved the gum and thrust it back into her mouth.
“Sorry, not intentional,” Sam apologized. “But what's the motive if I wanted to kill you?”
“Lucky. The beneficiary on my life insurance policy is not you,” Sally jibed and winked at Tricia.
“That proves that I don't have a motive. So am I off your suspect list now?” Sam made a grimace at Sally in the rearview mirror.
The weather was nice. They opened all the car windows to let in the rushing wind, which blew Tricia's shoulder-length loose hair backward, saving her the trouble of always pulling it back. Although it was a weekend night, there were still a lot of cars on the Garden State Parkway. People were hurrying to seek pleasures, pay visits or for some, make extra money. The foursome were not in a hurry. So Sam drove a bit under the speed limit and saw many cars approaching from behind change lanes and bypass his car fleetingly, just for the purpose of reaching their destinations a few minutes earlier at the risk of being caught by the police and given a ticket and some points on their driving record. But if luck was with them, they might never meet any patrol cars. A kind of gambler in life.
***
A carful of teenagers came up in the next lane, laughing and giggling loudly--hahaha--hihihi--hahaha--hihihi—hahaha--hihihi… The red convertible sped by, the laughter fading in the distant night sky. Sam turned the volume of the car radio a bit louder. Lois tapped her foot to the music. Occasionally, the burst of a bubble could be heard from the backseat.
The quartet arrived in New York around ten, high time for weekend nocturnal life to start. Sam found a space at a meter and parked his car. They went to the bar where Sally had met the five men. Sally walked in first. Others followed after a few minutes, pretending not to know one another. Sally cast her glance around in the hope of seeing one of the faces she was looking for. All were strangers. They came out. “It's too early, I think,” Sally explained. “I met them last time after midnight.”
“Let's go to the other bars in this area,” Sam suggested. “We can come back here later.” They wandered from bar to bar till late into the night. Sally kept blowing the gum bubbles as big as balloons. They didn't see any of these people in the other bars. They came to try once more at the first bar, but none of these people were inside. They stood on the pavement before the bar window deciding what to do next when suddenly someone shouted at them, “Gotcha. You can't escape this time.” Seven people, some young, some middle-aged, were approaching, five old “friends” among them.
Sam wanted to step forward, because he thought fighting was a man's business, but Lois held him back, whispering into his ear, “I'll handle it.” She stepped forward, waiting for the new arrivals to speak first. They stopped before the foursome, with the tall guy a few steps ahead. “I can see, Miss, you have reinforcements this time,” he sneered. “So we can settle the old debt tonight.” He cast a glance at the bubble before Sally's face. Sally felt secure this time since Lois was here. She had great confidence in her Big Sister.
“Do we owe you money?” Lois asked icily, sweeping her eyes across all seven faces, which wore no expression of any sort, as if they had put on masks or the skins of their faces were frozen by the icy tone of Lois.
“Not really, but the dark Miss hit our brethren the other night. It's a flesh and blood debt.”
“So? What do you want tonight?” asked Lois in the same marrow-freezing tone.
“If the Miss can break one of her arms, we are even,” the tall guy said in a similar cold voice, his eyes fixed on her face, belching with a dangerously threatening belligerent fire. Sally stopped producing the gum balloons from her mouth-factory and involuntarily put her arms behind her back.
“What if she won't?” Lois challenged, her arms crossed before her chest, tapping one of her feet on the ground as if to some silent music.
“We have to step in to help,” the tall man made a chopping gesture, squinting at his six comrades, who nodded their agreement.
“Very good. Please go ahead. We'll follow.” From Sally's experience last time, Lois knew what they would say and so she said it for them.
***
It was after midnight. The two parties stood in the bleak parking lot, facing each other at a short distance. All of a sudden, Sam pulled out his handgun, clenching it in both hands like in a movie, and shouted, “Don't move! Police!” The last word sounded like “Please!” No need to be so polite with the gun pointing at us, the tall guy thought. The next moment, a long whip was heard cracking. Sam's hands were hit by the thin end of the whip and the gun dropped to the ground with a resounding clatter. Lois glanced back with a warning gesture.
“You'd better step back and stand here watching, Sam,” Tricia advised him. “Lois can handle them.” Sam blushed a little, but no one saw it in the dark. He retrieved the gun, put it back into his holster, and stood silently with Tricia and Sally a few steps behind Lois. Tricia had a miniature camera with her and took pictures of everyone in the other group.
The whip came again, this time at Lois's chest. Lois waited until it got close enough. She raised her right hand and using the thumb, forefinger, and middle finger, caught the thin end of the whip, which she twined twice around her hand. She pulled at the long whip. A big, stout man of about thirty held the whip at the other end. He was pulled forward three steps. Then he stood his ground tugging hard at the whip, which went taut between them. Lois sent her chi through the whip. The big guy felt a sudden jerk on his end of the whip so strong that he was jerked backward and could no longer hold the handle of the whip. He had to let it go. Lois pulled the released whip all the way to her and cast it down on the ground at her feet. The big guy cursed, “Fuck you, bitch.”
At a gesture from the tall guy, they simultaneously drew out daggers. They formed a semicircle, pressing slowly in on Lois. She stepped right into their semicircle. Crouching and using her hands to hold onto the ground, supporting her body like an athlete on a pommel horse, she swept her feet out and around at the hands gripping the daggers. It was so unexpected that three of them shrank a step back. Two guys intended to change their angle of attack to stab at Lois's feet, but Lois was much too quick for them. Before they could make the change, Lois kicked the daggers out of their hands. The daggers flew into the air and fell with clanks on the ground almost four meters away. The last two guys barely had time to duck back. Lois finished the first round of fighting and stood up. She stared at the seven people calmly, crossing her arms before her. The two guys rushed to retrieve their daggers.
“Our Big Sister's already mastered so well the important principle in kungfu fighting,” commented Tricia. “Don't move when your adversaries don't make a move yet, but make a quicker move than they do when they start to attack.”
Now the tall guy made a sign, which only the members of the group could understand. All seven people lifted their daggers, pointing them at Lois. They didn't go forward. Then hissing noises were heard. They issued their chi through the daggers. Lois raised both her hands, covering all the seven men. Her chi was much stronger. When the gusts clashed, the seven men were all pushed a bit backwards. Lois still stood there though her upper torso was pitching a little backward.
Sam had never seen such fighting before. He was astounded and spellbound, standing there with eyes wide open and mouth ajar. The seven guys made a deep inhalation and a slow exhalation before their next move. They surrounded Lois and began their organized group assault. Before their daggers could reach her, Lois leaped towards a guy facing her. She flipped her index finger at the side of the blade, sending the dagger to slash the air sideways. At that very moment she grasped the wrist of his right arm with the dagger still in the hand. She pulled him to her right side and added a push on his back with her left hand, making him sail through the air into the two guys attacking her back. The two guys had to drop their daggers and outstretch their arms to receive their flying comrade.
Lois quickly approached the guy on her left and chopped him on the neck with the edge of her left hand, sending him sprawling on the ground with a painful moan. Then she leaped right and kicked sideways at the tall man’s stomach so hard that he was hauled like a sack of cotton through the air, though he was attempting to stab at her calf but missed by a hair's breadth since he was slower by half a second. He made a somersault in the air and fell on the ground on his feet. He gave a low whistle. All the guys adopted the first and best strategy: to escape, except the one lying on the ground. He was in too much pain to get up. The guys had no time to carry him away with them. They knew they met their Waterloo tonight. The fight ended within five minutes.
Lois walked up to the guy on the ground. She touched the tip of her shoe lightly at a spot on the man's shoulder, which was a xue that stopped his pain. Tricia, Sally and Sam came close. The foursome stood over him. This time Sam was wiser. He hung aside quietly, his arms crossed in front of him, letting Lois do the interrogation. And Sally resumed her production of balloons.
“You want me to get you to the police station, or just answer my questions here?” Lois stared coldly at him.
“If I answer all your questions, will you let me go?” He sat up now.
“It's a bargain,” Lois promised. “What's your name?”
“Shiaoshiao Pin.” Lois was not sure if this was his real name.
“Any ID?”
“Forgot it at home. You can search me.”
“Do you belong to any organization?”
“No, no. We are just friends.”
“Who did you learn kungfu from?”
“Master Craig Pu.”
“Where does he live?”
“In Queens.” Then he gave the address.
Lois asked a few more questions. Sally wrote down all the answers. At a gesture from Lois, Sally tore a blank slip of paper from her notepad and gave the slip and a pen to the man. “Sign your name here,” she ordered, chewing her gum. The man didn't say anything, just obeyed. Then he was let go. Sally put the slip into a plastic bag and picked up the long whip, entwining it round her waist. She could use it as a weapon later if necessary. No one could say that carrying a whip was illegal; besides, it was better than a pair of scissors.
***
It was almost three o'clock in the morning when Sam pulled his car into the three sisters' driveway. Lois invited Sam inside to eat something. They sat at the dining room table. Mr. and Mrs. Lin were asleep upstairs and Alida was in a deep slumber in the family room downstairs.
“Do you like wonton, Sam?” Lois asked.
“Oh, yeah, I like wonton,” said Sam. I’d like anything you’d cook for me.
Lois went to the kitchen to cook wonton. Mrs. Lin always made wontons ready to cook, stored away in the freezer. Lois took frozen wontons out and put a pot filled with water on the stove, waiting for the water to boil. Then she dropped in wontons one by one and stirred them with a ladle. When all the wontons floated on top of the boiling water, they were ready to serve.
Sam, Tricia and Sally sat at the dining table and chatted. “It was really amazing to see Lois fighting seven people alone.” Sam sang his hearty praise and admiration of Lois.
“She can fight more if their kungfu is bad.” Sally sounded proud of her Big Sister. “Sometimes, it's who's faster than whom. Sometimes, it's who’s on a higher level than whom--or both.”
“She can invent some new moves right on the fighting spot, depending on the situation, which is very useful,” Tricia joined in, putting her crossed arms on the table. Her skin would look dazzlingly white in the sunshine, Sam noticed. Then he looked at Sally, her skin looking healthily dark, but she's too wild--the gum addict.
“I really need to learn kungfu,” Sam admitted.
“Why not?” Tricia asked, giving him the sweetest alluring smile ever displayed.
“No time, unless I am given a long leave of absence, which is practically impossible.”
“I can teach you little by little, better little than none,” Tricia offered. “You'll learn something eventually in the long run.”
“I'll consider it, I promise.” Sam didn't want to be ungrateful.
“Sally,” Lois called from the kitchen, “can you lend me a hand? Don't sit there like a Buddha in a temple.”
“You can have both my hands,” Sally replied and went into the kitchen, spitting the gum into the garbage pail.
A moment later, Lois and Sally came back, each holding two bowls, one in each hand, and set them down on the table. After eating, Lois gave Sam the plastic bag with the slip of paper in it. “Dust for fingerprints and check him on your system,” she said intimately.
Sam left and the three sisters went to their separate bedrooms.
***
Sam phoned the next day. “The guy has no record. We checked his prints. Only he gave us a phony name. His official name is Michael Dong.” Tricia took down the name as she was receiving the call. After Sam hung up, she dialed Lois's cellular phone number and passed on the information. Lois was on her way to Master Craig Pu's place in Queens. She found that Craig Pu's name was the fifth on her list, but no address on it. Now that she got the address from the man, Shiaoshiao Pin or Michael Dong, or whatever his name was, she thought it was worth a trip to Queens.
Master Pu was seventy-three and retired. He had grown a salt-and-pepper beard, as long as half a foot. He was dressed in a mauve old-style Chinese gown resembling the official gown of a high-ranked courtier in the court of the Qin Dynasty, the last dynasty in Chinese history. He had a round red face, a sturdy build and a tall stature, looking like he could live till the end of the world. According to her father, he was a first-class master. His wife died two years ago. He had a son of forty-nine and a daughter of forty-five, both married with children of their own. The son and his family lived with the old master. The master was alone at home at that time, his son and daughter-in-law being away at work and their son at college.
Master Pu received Lois very politely and they talked in Mandarin. Lois gave a hasty look around the living room. All the furniture had a crimson lacquer surface; the central lacquer table was covered with a glass top with four lacquer chairs on each side, and a lacquer coffee table with a glass top on it, too, was before a lacquer settee. Some lacquer vases with golden flower designs on black backgrounds, multicolored figurines, scarlet cups and saucers, dark octagonal candy boxes inset on the exterior with glimmering specks of shell fragments, and other lacquer articles, were all displayed in a dark polished glass lacquer cabinet.
After the exchange of a few social words, Lois asked, “Did Shiaoshiao Pin or Michael Dong learn kungfu from you?” The old master seemed baffled for a moment, then said, “I never heard such names before. In fact, I never teach anyone kungfu except my own children and grandchildren.”
“Do you know this man?” Lois produced a photo out of her purse and showed it to the old master. The old man looked closely at the picture, then said, “He's my neighbor, a few doors down the street.”
“Do you know anything about him, like where he learned kungfu?”
“No. We don't even say hello to each other, though he’s lived here for two years now. You know young people nowadays… no, I mean boys. They know nothing about etiquette.” The old man sighed regretfully as if it were his fault.
“Please call me if you come to know anything about him.” Lois handed him her name card with both her hands, a gesture of reverence to the old master. Then she took her leave.
She went to the nearest police station in Queens and showed her ID, asking to have a look at the mug shots. She checked all seven photos with the pictures in the book. Her expectation was downcast. Either they really didn't do anything illegal, or the police hadn’t caught them when they did something wrong. The latter seemed more possible since they would not be bold enough to fight in public. |
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发表于 2008-8-17 00:07:00