If Tears Were Wishes And Other Short Stories by Ruth Nestvold Page A

the office today before dark was because the network had crashed. But Cleio had already committed to a release date and couldn't back out now: the partnership between NGTS and Cleio revolved around reliable translation and distribution of each other's products.
    Lindsay entered the temple, grateful for the muted lighting and bright colors and smell of incense. A little gray-haired man in slacks and shirt hurried up to her, bowing at the waist, and Lindsay wondered if there was something she was supposed to do. "Ni hau," she said, imitating his bow. She gestured towards the wealth of altars. "May I look around?"
    The little man nodded and indicated with a hand motion that she should follow him. He led her up a flight of stairs, past more altars, and out behind the temple to a small section of tropical jungle rising up out of the busy city. Halfway up the side of the hill was an altar in the open. The statue of a white goddess stood with a bottle in one hand, the other extended in what looked like an "okay" sign. On either side of her were figures resembling gargoyles playing with snakes.
    Lindsay climbed the stairs up to the goddess, sweating from combined tropical humidity and sweltering October heat that easily gave Austin a run for its money. When she reached the top, she saw that worshipers had left all manner of offerings at the feet of the regal lady, from so-called "American cookies" to bunches of bananas, flowers, and bundles of the fake paper money burned for good luck in Taiwan.
    She smiled and shook her head, toying with the ring on her finger, which was swelled up from the heat. There was something about a goddess people liked well enough to bring flowers and cookies that struck a chord with her — as if she were an everyday presence, a friend even.
    Impulsively, Lindsay dug the psychedelic pink fruit out of her bag and laid it on the altar in front of the goddess. Perhaps she should wish for something now. But what? That the deal with NGTS would go through — and Cleio would be eaten alive? Or that the divorce proceedings would disappear by the time she got home? Fat chance.
    "Are you a follower of Kwan Yin?" a gentle voice came from behind her.
    Startled, Lindsay whirled around to find a lovely Asian woman at her elbow. Like most people here in Taiwan, she made Lindsay feel tall and wide. She seemed to be about Lindsay's age, but at the same time older.
    "Is that who this is?" Lindsay asked. "I was wondering."
    The other woman nodded. "Kwan Yin is worshiped as the goddess of compassion — she who hears the cries of the world. As a Bodhisattva, she achieved enlightenment, but rather than going to Nirvana, she remained on earth to help those in need."
    Lindsay turned around and looked at the statue again. "What a nice story. I'm glad I gave her the fruit."
    Her companion chuckled, and Lindsay turned to her with a grateful smile. The presence of the smaller woman was calming somehow, smoothing out the panicked fuzziness she'd been feeling so often since Trevor told her he wanted a divorce.
    "Your English is very good," Lindsay said. "Where did you learn it?"
    "I've had the opportunity to spend some time in England and the U.S."
    Lindsay nodded and held out her hand. "By the way, I'm Lindsay Gurdin."
    The other woman took it, bowing slightly. "Call me Ma-tsu. What brings you to Taiwan, Lindsay?"
    "I'm testing the English version of a computer game for a partner company."
    "That must be nice, having games as your work."
    She shrugged. "Well, the business end isn't always fun."
    "How do you like it here in Taipei?" Ma-tsu asked.
    Lindsay gazed down on the colorful dragons frolicking on the roof of the temple and beyond, to the city she had only seen from the window of a taxi. "I haven't really gotten around yet."
    "Ah, you must visit Yangmingshan Park. It is very beautiful, and not far at all."
    "I don't know if I'll have the time. I have to prepare for a presentation tomorrow."
    "You must get away, though. Promise