Mingmei Yip - Song of the Silk Road

Both parents took their turn to kiss Alex, then the father asked, “How are you feeling, son?”

Alex sat up, a tired yet big smile blooming on his sunken face. “Hi, Mom. Dad, I feel OK. Thanks for coming right away.”

“You’re our son, Alex,” both parents enthused.

Then their beloved son grabbed my hand and pressed it on his chest. “Lily has been caring for me the whole time, without her, I…” He stopped, too choked with emotion to continue.

I saw Donna’s face darken as Frank laid his thick palm on his son’s shoulder.

I stepped outside the room to let the trio enjoy their parents-and-son minireunion in privacy. A few minutes later when I re-entered the room, Frank announced his plan—to bring Alex back to New York right away so he could be treated at Columbia Medical Center in a private room by real nurses and world-leading specialists, instead of this dirty bed in a dingy, remote hospital.

Concern spread on Alex’s face. “Then what about Lily?”

Frank turned to me. “You can come with us if you want. We’ll pay for your ticket.”

I wondered if “paying for my ticket” was also a subtle suggestion that I was too poor for their son.

I smiled. “Thank you, but I need to stay here to finish a few things.”

Donna was frowning at me, and I was pretty sure she was dying to ask me what the hell was I doing in China all by myself. I pretended not to notice her questioning glance in the hope of discouraging her itchy tongue from wagging—or slashing. I guessed she was relieved that I’d turned down Frank’s offer to go back with them.

Although Alex clearly did not want to leave me behind, in his present state, he seemed to have lost his power to insist otherwise.

That evening, I went back with Alex’s parents to stay at the Welcome Guest Hotel. I was not eager to accept their seeming generosity, but I did not think I could take yet another night sleeping on a hospital bench. I wanted to be with Alex, but at that moment what I needed most was to restore my depleted qi with a comfortable bed, a hot bath, and something satisfying to eat.

Early next morning, Frank told me that he’d booked tickets the night before and that they would be leaving in the afternoon. After breakfast we took a car together to the hospital to pick up Alex.

An hour later when we arrived at the Urumqi airport, I was upset to see that the parents had arranged a wheelchair for their son. Maybe it was the right thing to do, because Alex did look weak and tired. But it was heartbreaking to see my young lover looking like an invalid. Worse, Donna insisted that she push the wheelchair all the way inside the lobby—to show off her motherly love to compete with my romantic one.

Inside, the four of us waited anxiously with other passengers who were chatting, reading newspapers, smoking, or bickering.

As I was about to talk to Alex, Donna signaled me to step aside to a quiet corner. Under the airport’s ghostly fluorescent light, her cosmetic-surgery-enhanced face looked drawn and harsh.

I blurted out a question before she had a chance to spill hers. “Donna, I think Alex is fine, so why a wheelchair?”

She gave me a cold stare. “Alex is not fine. He might have a concussion, and things might get complicated. I’m his mother and I’m concerned.”

“And so am I, Donna.”

This statement seemed to have greatly offended her. “Lily, I’m going to be blunt. I think you must leave Alex alone. You have caused him enough harm already.”

My cheeks felt hot. I shot back, “What do you mean to leave Alex alone?” and saw disgust rising in her dead blue eyes like those of a gutted fish.

“You know what I mean.”

“Sorry, but I don’t. I was the one with Alex the whole time during the accident and after, not you or your ex-husband. If I’d listened to your advice and left him alone, you wouldn’t be so lucky as to see your son alive today. Besides, Alex is the one who won’t leave me alone, not the other way around. Ask him.”

“But it was because of you that he ended up in this horrible accident.”

“Did I put a gun to his head to make him come to China?”

“I don’t know what you did, but right now my son is certainly bewitched. I’m sure it’s just a moment’s infatuation for an older woman.”

With her beaconlike eyes, she surveyed me from head to toe and then back up. In my T-shirt and worn blue jeans, with hair piled up loosely on my head and no makeup, I must have looked—if not ugly—downright poverty-smelling-plain. My hand moved involuntarily to smooth my hair.

Now her tone softened a notch. “Lily, you’ve taken enough of him. Please give me back my son.”

I heard my voice climbing in the air. “Donna, I think this is for Alex to decide. Not you or Frank.”

“He’s still a child. He doesn’t know what’s best for him!”

A young Chinese couple turned to stare at us, then whispered to each other. I shot them a dirty look and they hurried away.

In fact, Donna was the real target of my menacing look. I just used the couple as substitutes to show her that, though I might not have money, I was not to be bullied.

“Donna, you’re wrong. Alex is quite sure of what he wants.” My voice adamantly remained in a high register to match hers.

“He’s only twenty-one. Don’t you know that a twenty-one-year-old’s mind changes like the weather?” She paused to scrutinize me again. “Pretty soon it will be someone else for him. So please don’t try to find him after he’s back in the U.S. with us. Just leave him alone.”

I blurted out, “Donna, do you really love Alex or is it just a show?”

She looked—or feigned—shock. “What a question! Of course I love him. He’s my son, for God’s sake!”

“All right, but you have a strange way of loving someone.” I sighed and walked back to Alex and Frank, my heartbeat accelerating, followed by Donna’s clicking high heels.

I bent to kiss him. “You OK, Alex? You comfortable in the wheelchair?”

“I don’t know. I’m tired and not feeling well.” Alex grabbed my hand and buried his face in my palm. “Come back to me soon. Don’t make me wait.”

I smiled while Donna cast us a disgusted how-can-you-two-bea-match look. Frank was quietly smoking his cigarette, looking out at the runway through a glass door, pretending not to see or hear anything.

Just then a loud male voice blasted through the airport’s PA system:

“China Southern Air 208 will be boarding soon. Passengers on this flight please proceed to gate number eight.”

Three pairs of feet and the four wheels dragged nervously to the gate where the parents and son showed their passports and boarding passes.

Frank extinguished his cigarette and extended his hand. “Lily, thanks so much for taking care of Alex. Hope to see you again sometime in the future.”

After that, he pulled me to him for a bear hug.

Reluctantly, Donna also extended her bony, perfectly manicured, witchlike hand, “Good-bye, Lily, and thanks,” followed by a ghost hug.

“Good-bye and take care,” I said to the couple, then bent down to kiss Alex again, this time on his lips, lingering despite the flames shooting from his mother’s eyes.

Several heads turned to watch us. Two teenage girls held hands and giggled.

Alex looked up at me. “Please come back as soon as you can. I’ll miss you.”

“I will.” But I really had no idea how much longer I needed to stay in China before I could go back.

And then they were gone.

When I finally arrived back in my little cottage, I plunged onto my bed and cried my heart out. Now it seemed that just as I’d finally found someone I truly cared for, he had slipped away from my grasp like fish through a torn net.

For several days I couldn’t focus and cried much of the time, missing Alex terribly. Then one day I walked two miles to the post office to call the U.S., but no matter how hard the operator tried, the phone line just refused to cross the Pacific Ocean to reach New York. Alex must be in a hospital, being treated with million-dollar equipment surrounded by renowned, white-coated doctors and waited on hand and foot by a procession of pretty, flirtatious, and suffocatingly nurturing nurses. I was very tempted to book a flight back to New York to smash the equipment, shove off the doctors, push away the nurses, and pull Alex into my arms.

But of course this was merely fantasy. My urgent task at the moment was to fly to Beijing to settle everything with Attorney Lo and Mindy Madison so I could collect the money. Laozi said, “More things are spoiled at the end than in the beginning,” so there was no room for more mistakes, let alone romantic distractions. I also told myself that I was worn down and needed to eat better, maybe slaughtering a fat chicken or gutting a fish to cook myself a delectable, nutritious meal.

After two more days’ rest, I finally felt ready for the grand finale of my journey while trying to ignore my heart’s longing for Alex. Deep down I feared that Donna could be right, that her son’s love for an older woman was just a moment’s infatuation.

It took me three whole days to organize myself to pack and be ready to leave—this time for good. Two days before, I went to Keku’s house to inform her of my departure.

“Aiiya.” She widened her eyes. “How come so fast?”

“Keku, I’ve been here for almost six months now. It really is time for me to go home.”

“Then when come back, soon?”

“Hmm… I’ll try.” In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever come back, but had no heart to say so to those longing eyes.

Just then Mito came in and tugged at my shirt, then extended his hands, his palms two miniature basins waiting to be filled. Smiling down at this child who seemed to have stepped right out of a fairy tale, I placed a bag of candies on one palm and a plastic car on the other. He shrieked with pleasure, popping a candy in his mouth with one hand while grasping his trophy with the other.

Keku looked at her son affectionately, then turned back to me. “Please come back and play more with Mito. He loves you.”

“I love Mito, too,” I said, then stooped to touch the child’s angelic face. “Mito, will you miss me?”

To my shock, he shook his head.

Keku immediately came to my rescue. “Miss Lin, remember, he doesn’t understand Chinese.” Then she translated for her son. After that, Mito nodded his head like a pestle pounding on a mortar.

I laughed.

A few seconds passed and Keku shot me a chiding glance. “Aiiya, Miss Lin, now you’ve spoiled rotten Mito. What am I going to do after you’ve left?”

I smiled. “Then spoil him more.”

“With what?”

I sighed. “Sorry, Keku, but I can’t stay here forever.”

“I know, I know. Aiiya, very lonely after you’ve gone.”

“Keku, you have your women friends.”

She leaned close to me. “Miss Lin, you spoil me rotten, too. You are so smart, so now I only like talk to you. They stupid, no interest.” She winked. “But don’t tell them!”

We both laughed.

The morning of departure, Keku and her husband, Abu, helped to load my belongings into the waiting taxi. Mito helped by just standing there hanging onto the hem of his mother’s dress and looking as cute as a little Buddha. Other villagers gathered around to watch. I thanked the Uyghur couple and Keku’s woman friends, hugged and kissed Mito, waved to all, then climbed inside the waiting vehicle.

The driver inserted the key into the ignition and the car started to move. Looking back at the tiny village and the waving crowd, I felt my heart swell with emotions so complicated that I had no words to describe them. This was the place I’d spent the most exciting, memorable months of my life. The place where I fell in love with a man eight years my junior and where we made love on the singing golden sand, silently watched and approved by heaven above and earth below. The place where I had created a little home for myself, where I learned about Lop Nor, a good man to whom bad things happened, where I befriended Keku and Mito, now almost like a sister and a nephew….

When the crowd was receding from my sight, suddenly I saw a small child push aside the others, run after the car, and cry hysterically.

I stuck my head out of the window, waving and screaming, “Mito! Mito!”