Shanghai Girl by Vivian Yang Page B

Gordon.”
    He lets go of my hand and says, “Don’t be, my child, don’t. You’re such a good kid. Tao was lucky to have you. I see you here, Sha-fei, and I can’t help but think about Irene. So similar yet a world of difference.”
    “How so?”
    He utters a long sigh. “Well, I’ve practically given up on her. Sometimes I wonder if I still know her.”
    “What do you mean, don’t know her?”
    “Figuratively, Sha-fei. She bears no resemblance with me in terms of beliefs or values. She has no beliefs, no values, nothing of that sort. She’s been ruined by the American culture.” Ignoring my puzzled look, Gordon puts Irene’s photo back. With a smile, he changes the topic. “Now, let’s see. What can we do to get you over to the States?"
    I nearly jump from my seat. “You will help me go to the U.S.?!”
    Gordon laughs. “Those aren’t my exact words, are they?”
    This calms me down a little bit. I begin to second-guess his intentions. “You’re not doing it because of your daughter, are you?” I ask. “Or is it for my Father, or for your wife?"
    Gordon looks at me in disbelief. He reaches over and pats me on the shoulder. "You have a sharp mind and a sharp tongue, Sha-fei. Now listen to this: It’s for you. I love helping people whenever I can and I’d like to help you. I have an appointment to see the Commerce Counsel at the American Consulate. I'll take you with me and see if you can talk to the staff. They should be able to help with the technicalities. I hope we can kill two birds with one stone."
    I'm thrilled. "Thank you so much, Uncle Gordon. I'm sure Father would have been grateful for your kindness...”
    With a wave of his hand, Gordon cuts in. "What did I just say? It's for you, Sha-fei."
    I utter softly, "Uncle Gordon, if this were in the old days, I would kneel down and kowtow to you. But all I can say now is 'Thank you.' Let me show you my gratitude in the future, Uncle Gordon. I won’t disappoint you, I promise.”
    “Don't get carried away, now. In life, you have to strive for the best and be prepared for the worst." He picks up the china ladle in the serving bowl and aimlessly stirs the soup. “Did you ever see how they break the bird’s neck to make this blood soup? Well, sometimes I think life itself is such a process. ‘Survival of the fittest.’ So are you prepared to face the real challenges of life, Sha-fei?”
    “Yes, I am, Uncle Gordon. I’ll be worthy of your help.”
    “We shall see.”
     
    The taxi pulls in past the Plaza's gate. Gordon gets out, offers me his hand, and gives me a parting hug. The texture of his wool coat leaves a quick sensation on my cheek.
    I've just spent an evening with a gentleman from America, the gentleman who was the husband of the woman whom my own Father had loved …… My thoughts are in disarray.
    Gordon says our next meeting will be at the gate of the American Consulate at ten o'clock, the day after tomorrow.
    In the typical Chinese style of Ke Chi, or "over-politeness," I decline Gordon’s offer to have the taxi take me all the way home. "I have my bicycle," I tell him.
    "But it's almost ten. And it's cold out there. Will you be safe?"
    "No problem. People ride bicycles around the clock if they have to, say, taking one to the hospital at midnight in an emergency."
    “Imagine that!” says Gordon, shaking his head. "Well, if you insist, you're a big city girl. Thank goodness Shanghai is not as crime-infested as New York. Just take care of yourself!"
    No guards stop Gordon as he walks inside the gate. I gaze at his back, receding, blurring, and then disappearing behind the glass doors. I am reminded of the famed essayist Zhu Ziqing's lyric lines about his father in “Figure Viewed from Behind”:
     
    "I saw him wearing a small, black cloth hat, a
    black cloth mandarin jacket and a dark blue
    cotton-padded robe, walking haltingly to the
    side of the railway tracks …… His figure viewed
    from behind blended into the human