Episode 24: Nothing To My Name
I
Ai joined in with the applause as the credits rolled. The "auditorium" was little more than a classroom lined with folding chairs and a projector screen. However, with how still all the other parents and students sat, it might've been a high-class opera house.
The quartet of student filmmakers bowed before returning to their seats. Ai had enjoyed their documentary. Given the prompt of "how can you help others," they decided to film themselves volunteering at the local food bank. It was simple but brilliant. Ai wondered how it never occurred to her to do the same. She started thinking up some long explanation about wanting to be unpredictable. Beneath it, she knew that it was only because she was too imaginative for her own good.
"Well done to all our groups thus far," Mr. Ding announced as he began resetting the projector at the front of the room. It was a machine larger and older than any of the film camp's students, but its age lent it a certain charm. Whenever it worked, that is.
"I mean it when I say that this is perhaps the brightest, most insightful group of young filmmakers we've ever had here at Qife Zhe Film Camp. Now, our last group, but certainly not our least, is Sunset Productions, featuring Wang Ai Ling and..."
Mr. Ding pulled a scrap of paper out of his dress shirt pocket. He lifted his glasses and squinted at the list.
"Featuring Wang Ai Ling," he repeated with greater conviction.
Ai took in a deep breath. She felt her friend's hand rest on hers. The gesture siphoned all her nerves out of her. She stood up, shimmying past the knees of the others in her row, and jogged to the projector screen.
Behind the glow of the projector, everyone looked like shadows.
Well, not quite everyone.
"So..." Ai began, momentarily forgetting what she wanted to say and what she was doing and who she was, but they all came back to her a moment later.
"This is the part where everyone else talked a little about what their film was about and why. Honestly, I don't even know what I could say. I already spent days making a film; what more could I possibly say?"
She stopped for a moment to check the audience's faces—still just shadows. She did, however, spot two smiles among them. That was enough for her.
"I think if you want to know what somebody's really thinking, what they're really like, then you have to share something with them. That's why we have movies and books and all that stuff, right? So we can learn things about the people who make them, watch them, read them, or whine about them in the newspaper?"
The shadows laughed at that.
"Exactly. So it wouldn't matter what I say up here. It won't tell you nearly as much as I hope this film will. Anyway, on with the show!"
SUNSET PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS...
A WANG AI LING FILM...
MY DAY WITH CARMEN
ACT I: MY HOME
How can I help others? That's the question that I, Wang Ai Ling, have to answer with this film.
The first thing I wanted to do was making a video about the Huangshan Mountains. I know we all live here, and we see the mountains every day if you can look past the rooftops, but there's so much more to them that you can't see from that far away. There are all these cool trails with amazing views of these beautiful canyons. If you go far enough, you can see the magnolia flowers. They grow in these huge bunches that make them look like a cloud you can reach out and touch.
I know people can walk up and see those things any time. Still, sometimes they're too busy, especially people like my sister, Jiejie, who spends all week working at the tea shop. Taking a walk up the mountains, seeing the magnolias, is such a wonderful way to relax and realize that life doesn't have to be all about working and being busy. I thought, if I made a nature video about the mountains, then I'd be helping people who were too busy to go up and see them for themselves.
Okay, to be honest, I just really wanted to do my project on the mountain trail, even before knowing about the "helping others" part. But I really do think the magnolias are beautiful.
No, the film is supposed to show me helping others. The first person I thought I could help was Jiejie. I filmed myself cleaning the dishes, dusting the kitchen, and trying to make some tea before she came home.
The footage of me making tea got...Deleted by accident. Really.
After a few days of that, I looked through the footage and found...A really boring film. Maybe it was because it was all too easy. After all, it's a small house, and there's only the two of us anyway. Or maybe it was because it was all stuff that Jiejie had asked me to do anyway while she was at work.
Well, except for the tea.
So the mountains were too far away, and home was too close. I needed something in between, something that was easy enough to do but hard enough to really make a difference.
So definitely not tea.
ACT II: CARMEN
I took my camera down to the market street, looking for someone who might need some help.
When I say it that way, I sound a bit like a superhero. Really, I just looked nosy.
While I was walking around, filming whatever I could find, I thought a little more about the question I was supposed to answer. I was supposed to find a way to help others, but what sort of "others" would need my help?
I zoomed my camera into all the shop windows. I found a chef standing over a blazing grill, a herbalist carefully lining up bowls on a table, and a tour guide juggling three telephones. They all looked like they might need help, but I wasn't sure why I wanted to help them. Well, I knew why; for my project. But that wasn't a very good reason to do anything. After all, how many of your favorite films were made just so they could say they made one at all?
Then I found something really interesting. We get tourists up here pretty often, usually booking the mountain trail tour, but this one was different. She was short, only a little taller than me, and I'm pretty short for thirteen. She had really bright blue eyes and pink fur like the magnolias near the mountaintops. Oh, and she also had four arms. Two of them were holding the straps of this huge red backpack she was carrying. It looked like it was full of bricks, but she made it seem like it was full of feathers. With her other two hands, she was reading a tiny book called The Pocket Portuguese-Mandarin Dictionary.
She was standing outside a convenience store in the wall of a bigger shop, talking to a shopkeeper whose forehead wrinkled more and more with every question. The pink tourist looked between him and her dictionary, asking him where the library was and when dessert was served. Finally, she asked something about tickets. She lit up when the shopkeeper nodded in understanding, but then she drooped when he said "two-forty."
The tourist turned away from the convenience store, shutting her dictionary and adjusting her gigantic backpack on her shoulders. I've not been able to get tickets before, usually because a movie or a show was sold out on opening night or because the only good seats literally cost an arm and a leg. It's always annoying, but this tourist looked worse than annoyed. She looked defeated. In one of those big-budget movies, pouring rain would've started coming down on her. She must've really wanted to go. Maybe she really needed to go.
Then her face lit up again. She had a face meant for smiling. Even from across the street, just looking at her made me want to smile too.
She hopscotched between passers-by through the street, finding an empty space between two shops. She dropped her bag down and started rummaging through it like a little kid diving into a toy chest. A few things were pulled out and put back in, like a tiny statue of the Eiffel Tower and a tin labeled British Candies. There was also a handheld lighter with a blue triangle and white star that I later learned were from the Puerto Rican flag.
Finally, she stood up and turned around. In her lower hands, she held a pair of maracas made of brownish-red wood so polished that they seemed to glow. She had three batons covered in some kind of silver paper in her upper right hand, while in her left, she held the Puerto Rico-themed lighter. An upturned black fedora lay at her feet.
I zoomed in as close as my camera would allow, wanting to get the perfect shot of whatever this strange pink tourist was about to do. Then I had to zoom out; I wouldn't get much out of an extreme close-up of her nose.
She started shaking the maracas. I once held some ages ago in an old second-hand shop, but I had no idea how anyone made music with them. The pink tourist, however, had an excellent idea. She made them sound like drumsticks that could play without a drum. She didn't just shake them; she twirled them between her fingers like batons. They danced around her hands.
She earned the attention of a few passers-by. They seemed more confused than anything. Still, what is it they say? 'Any publicity is good publicity?'
The pink tourist held up the lighter and the three batons, grinning as if to say, I wonder what I could do with these. Then, with the kind of swift motion that I thought was only possible in animated films, she lit the batons' ends and started juggling them. The crowds' gasps started as terrified screams and ended as entertained oohs. People far down the street rushed over, suddenly bored with whatever else they'd been doing.
I'll be honest, I probably would've dropped my camera if it didn't have a hand strap on it.
The batons made beautiful orange spirals in the air, dancing to the maracas' music. They reminded me of the tails of the dragons in the New Years' parade. I bet this was what real-life dragons would've looked like. I didn't even look through my camera. I'd be able to watch the footage over and over again, but I might only get to see the real thing once.
After about a minute, I wondered what she did with the lighter. I zoomed through my camera again and looked for it. She'd dropped it and caught it with her toes. While standing on one foot, she reached her leg back to her bag and tucked the lighter into a side pocket. I couldn't help chuckling a little as I zoomed back out, wondering how many people had noticed the hidden extra trick.
Before I zoomed back out to the dancing spirals, I looked at the fedora by her feet again. It had become a nest of renminbi notes. There were mostly green ones and purple fives, but I knew they must add up.
Finally, the pink tourist started her grand finale. She caught the burning batons in her right hand and (I'm serious) ate the flames off of them like they were scoops of ice cream. Then, as if the dancing spirals hadn't been dragon-like enough, she leaned back and spat a cloud of flame into the air. She shook the maracas much more passionately than before, making them shout over the roaring fire.
The crowd's applause burst out of them as if they couldn't contain it. The pink tourist, even after her incredible performance, looked as if she couldn't believe them. Then, with her face somehow getting even pinker, she bowed. Her fedora was overflowing.
I followed her as she scooped up the money-filled hat and her huge backpack and hurried back to the convenience store. She showed the shopkeeper the money she'd earned and her shining blue eyes. I couldn't see how anyone could turn her down.
Even so, just like before, the shopkeeper brought her crashing down with two words. "Sold out."
The pink tourist stared at him for a moment as if he had more to say. Once she realized that was all there was to it, she turned and ambled away. It looked like she suddenly realized how heavy her backpack was.
And I suddenly felt awful for filming all this. Then I remembered why I was out here filming in the first place.
I walked up to her and said hello.
"Hola," she said, rushing to hide her broken frown beneath a fake smile. "Oh, um...Nǐ hǎo."
I asked her what she was trying to buy. She took out her dictionary again and, after a quick flip through, reached into a side pocket on her backpack and gave me a poster. It was an ad for some band called The X-Periments. It showed the members, who were all colorful and furry like the tourist, floating through a starry sky while playing their instruments. They looked strangely thrilled to be lost in space. The ad said they'd be playing tonight at a stadium in Huangshan City.
"You really wanted to go, huh?" I said.
The pink tourist pointed at the band members on the poster. "Familia," she said. "Um...Jiātíng."
"Oh," I said. "They're your family. You're trying to get back to them."
She looked at me for a moment, then nodded. I don't think she understood exactly what I said. Still, something in her glowing blue eyes told me that I'd guessed right.
I looked again at her fedora full of money. She'd gone to the trouble of earning it. There must still be something she could do.
"Hey," I said. "I have an idea."
I offered her my hand. She took it, tilting her head but smiling. I led her down the street until we got to the bus depot. We scooched through a gaggle of tourists getting off a bus to reach the map board at the far end.
"You've got plenty of money here for a bus ticket," I explained as I started tracing the route from the village to the city. "The route to the city takes about two hours. There'll be more stores down there selling last-minute tickets. If you do another awesome show down there, you'll be able to make enough money to get in."
The pink tourist gave me a smile dripping with awkwardness. She slowly held up her dictionary.
It took a few minutes, but she finally understood my plan. She clapped her hands and hopped on her tippy-toes. Then, just when I thought she couldn't surprise me anymore...
"Wanna come?"
I wasn't sure if I should. Jiejie wouldn't like it if I went to the city on my own.
But then again, I wouldn't be on my own. I'd be with...
"What's your name?" I asked.
Her blue eyes lit up. "Soy Carmen."
I'd be with Carmen. And it was all for my project anyway.
And it's not every day that a new friend offers to cover your bus fare.
ACT III: SUNSET
That bus ride with Carmen was probably the most fun bus ride I'd ever had. Not that it had much competition. It's not like a bus ride can change your life.
Well...
The first thing Carmen did when he got on board was go rummaging through her bag again. Once she had what she needed, she jumped onto the ceiling to put her bag into the overhead storage compartment.
Yes, she actually jumped onto the ceiling and stuck to it with her hands and feet like a spider. No, I'm not faking that. Do you really think I have that kind of budget?
She dropped down on the seat beside me as the bus started moving. She handed me a sandwich in a plastic container. It was one of those ready-made subs they sell in airports and bus stations for people in a rush. Carmen had one for herself too. They tasted alright. I guess you can't be too picky if you're in a rush.
As we ate our sandwiches, Carmen started flipping through a photo album with her second pair of hands. The cover was adorned with pictures of many different flags. I spotted the Puerto Rican flag again and the proud crimson cross of the Union Jack, the affirmative scarlet circle of the Hinomaru, and the black, red, and gold bars of the German flag. The people who make these flags sure do like the color red.
Carmen looked at me, her blue eyes deep in thought for a moment, and then they lit up again.
"Huíyì," she said. Memories.
As she took her through her album, I felt like she was taking me on a world tour. No wonder her backpack was so heavy. She'd been building up a collection from all over the world.
In Puerto Rico, Carmen leaned over a speedboat's railing to kiss the nose of a dolphin leaping from the crystal-clear waters. I couldn't tell who was pinker; Carmen or the dolphin.
In France, Carmen went to the very top of the Eiffel Tower. She took a photo of herself at the bottom, waving up, and another at the top, waving down. It looked like two Carmens were waving to each other.
In Italy, Carmen paddled a punt down the Grand Canal. She looked like holding the paddle was the only thing keeping her from fainting at the sight of the city's evening lights. The photo made it look like a cloud of fireflies was dancing around Carmen. I can only imagine what it looked like in real life.
"You've been all over the world," I said.
Carmen nodded. She turned the page, and I couldn't help but laugh at a picture of her gaping at a pizza twice as big as her in an Italian restaurant. She laughed too.
She'd been to so many countries and done so much. But there was still one thing I wanted to know about her.
"Where do you go when you're not traveling?" I asked.
She tilted her head. I thought of one word to squeeze my question into.
"Jiā?"
She flipped through her dictionary. Her eyes lit up...
"Casa."
And then darkened.
Home.
She closed the photo album, leaving only the flags again. She jumped back to the ceiling, dug into her bag, and came back down with the poster for The X-Periments.
"Oh," I said. "Right. They're your home."
Carmen nodded again. She looked unnaturally still as she looked at the poster. She seemed like she wanted to say something to the band members floating happily away into the stars. But they couldn't hear her through a sheet of paper and, until recently, who-knows-how-many countries away.
I tried to imagine what that felt like. Then I realized that I didn't have to.
"Hey," I said, showing her my camera. "You've shown me lots of photos. Can I show you a video?"
She lit up again and scooched in for a better look. I thought it was funny how she jumped between happy and sad. I think she was just determined to be happy as often as possible, even if it was hard sometimes.
You see, my camera is supposed to hold twelve hours of footage. I've only ever had as much as twelve hours, fifty-four minutes, and twenty-six seconds. There's nothing wrong with the camera; there's just a clip that I won't ever delete, and it's not even something I filmed.
It's nothing super exciting, just a sunset from the amazing view near the top of the mountain. I know a trail I can take to see it in real life whenever I want. It really is an incredible view. The sky turns all different colors; orange and purple and blue, like a rainbow covering the whole sky. You could paint it, but you wouldn't because every second spent looking at your canvas is a second that you're missing the real thing.
This video is nothing but one of those sunsets. It goes on for five minutes and thirty-four seconds. Every forty-two seconds, there's an annoying little flicker of static. At two minutes and eighteen seconds, a bird flies across the sun. At four minutes and thirty-one seconds, there's a clicking sort of sound that I think is two people kissing. At five minutes and seven seconds, the sun disappears, and there's a final blast of color before the stars begin to flicker into the night sky like the video's static. As that happens, we hear the video's only line of dialogue.
"Měilì de." Beautiful.
I've watched hundreds of sunsets, but I've watched this one more than any other. It might not look as clear as seeing it in person, but it's the only one I can watch with my parents.
Carmen looked at me once the video was over.
"Familia?" She asked. "Jiātíng?"
"Yeah," I said. "Familia."
She kept looking at me. Her blue eyes were shaking. I thought she wanted to cry, but her eyes might've been all out of tears. I know what that feels like. It's annoying.
I took her hand. Her fur was soft and wavy, like the petals of the magnolia flowers.
She smiled, but she wasn't looking at me. I turned to the window. The sunset's rainbow was already out. On the horizon, the city lights came on one-by-one like fireworks celebrating the beautiful sight.
All I had was a video, and all she had was a poster. For now, at least. I knew just how I wanted my film to end.
In the window, Carmen's shaking eyes glowed with the golden sun.
ACT IV: THE BEST SEAT IN THE HOUSE
"Ladies and gentlemen," I declared as Carmen struck up once more with her dancing fire routine.
I felt a little nervous getting the attention of so many city-goers. Okay, that's a lie. I thought I was going to have at least one heart attack.
"I know you must be busy, but if you'll listen for just a moment..."
They looked busy, too. It didn't matter if they were speed-walking down the sidewalk, talking on a cell phone, or even just waiting at the bus stop. Everybody looked like they wanted to be doing something else. Maybe they really were busy. Or they might've just hated being in the city.
I'll be honest, I didn't think it was that great either.
"This is my friend Carmen! She's traveled all around the world trying to find her family, and she's so close!"
I tried to figure out what it was while my heart kept beating like it was trying to break out. Maybe it was the way the streetlights made everyone's shadows really tall and monster-like. It might've been that the pavement and the buildings looked too dark and too sleek, so right that it looked wrong. But I think it was because I couldn't see the mountains from there. Every time I turned to find them, I only saw rooftops. I kept expecting to see something but saw nothing, so I was just left with this feeling of waiting spinning in my gut.
"Her family will be performing in the stadium in barely an hour! Your spare change could help Carmen get inside and reunite with her family! All she asks is some small reward for her incredible talents!"
I drew on as many quotes I could think of from every film speech I remembered. Borrowing from people who knew what they were talking about helped me feel like I knew what I was saying.
I glanced over at Carmen. She bunched her burning batons together, threw them in the air, spun on her heels, and caught them behind her back. She made it look easy. I thought I must look pale and sweaty and scared, but all I was doing was talking. Carmen easily had the harder job and looked like it was nothing.
Then I imagined what it must've been like traveling the world without a home. Sure, there were the dolphins and the Eiffel Tower and the Grand Canal, but what about everything in between?
I guess while you're focusing on juggling fire and shaking maracas, it's easier to forget the things that aren't good enough for photographs.
The city was a tougher crowd, but when we found someone who wanted to listen, they really listened. A group of girls in school uniforms dropped five yuan each in Carmen's fedora. A little boy ran from his mother, filled the fedora with coins, and then ran back. An elderly couple saw us, and, after some prodding from the wife, the husband dropped in a neatly-folded ten yuan note. For each of them, Carmen threw her batons in the air, blew them a kiss, and then caught her batons again. I wonder how many thought she was fishing for tips and how many knew she was thanking them.
I helped her pack up once she was done, holding onto the fedora while she slung her mountain of a bag onto her back. She took a moment to bow to a small handful of remaining audience members.
"Come on, Carmen," I said as I grabbed my camera from the windowsill I'd set it on.
"We don't much more time-"
She took my hand and pulled me into a bow with her. I wasn't sure what I was bowing for, but it felt nice to hold Carmen's hand again. It reminded me of the magnolias, which was as close as I could get to the mountains for now.
We ran down the street as fast as we could. The stadium stood at the end of two rows of tall buildings. It reminded me of films set in old castles and kingdoms, where the king appears in a doorway with rows of soldiers making a tunnel for him out of their raised swords. We could hear cheering well before we were at the ticket booth.
I raised my camera, ready to get the perfect shot of Carmen trading her fedora to a beaming ticket-seller for a pass to her future. From there, we would follow Carmen as she got to her seat, finally in the same room as her family.
We stopped running. The shot I got was a cheap, wrinkled, printed-out paper sign showing the booth's hours. 9:00am to 8:00pm, Tuesdays through Sundays. Behind it, in the cramped, darkened room behind the glass, the only light came from the bloody-red numbers, 8:02.
The cheers hurt my ears.
"Oh, Carmen..." I said, turning to her.
Her blue eyes were shaking. She looked more exhausted staring at the digital clock than she ever did during her juggling routine.
"I'm sorry...There might be another way. We could try and catch them after the show. Oh, but I don't think they'll just let people backstage. We could find out where they're staying...I don't know how we would, though. Or maybe..."
Carmen looked at me. When she did, her eyes suddenly stopped shaking. I thought she was about to cry. I was waiting for her to so I could cry with her. But she never did. She just kept looking at me.
And then she looked up.
I spun around. As mighty as the stadium looked from a distance, the apartment buildings beside it were twice as tall.
Before I was even sure of what Carmen was thinking, she'd picked me up, hugged me closed to her chest and started walking up the side of the building.
As we climbed, we could already hear the concert beginning. The music fought to be heard over the cheers.
"Wǒ céngjīng wèn gè bùxiū,
"Nǐ héshí gēn wǒ zǒu..."
It felt really weird, like the slow hill-climbing part at the beginning of a rollercoaster, except much longer and much, much steeper. But Carmen's arms didn't feel like they were going to let go. After everything I'd seen her do today, she didn't seem like the sort of person who dropped things easily. So I thought I'd just enjoy the ride and get some fantastic bird's-eye-view footage of the city below.
You know what? It looks much better from high up.
"Kě nǐ què zǒng shì xiào wǒ, yīwúsuǒyǒu,
"Wǒ yào gěi nǐ wǒ de zhuīqiú,
"Hái yǒu wǒ de zìyóu..."
The show was just starting as Carmen and I finally got to our seats. The X-Periments looked like little blots of color in a pool of light. Carmen waved at them.
"Kě nǐ què zǒng shì xiào wǒ, yīwúsuǒyǒu,
"Ō, nǐ héshí gēn wǒ zǒu..."
I think I saw them wave back.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I wish I could've helped you be with your family, instead of just sitting up here with..."
Carmen took my hand. I remembered the magnolias again.
"Jiātíng," she said.
Behind her bright smile, I could see the mountains in the distance.
You know what? I think this ending will do just as well.
"Ō, nǐ héshí gēn wǒ zǒu!"
I shut my camera off. The show looked better outside of a lens.
VI
Carmen waited until the other audience members started applauding before she joined in. Her face heated up when she heard Jiejie give a loud whistle from beside her.
She could barely believe that only a week had passed since she and Ai had made their film. She'd only just begun to get used to living in the same house for more than a few days. It was a breath of fresh air from breakfast buffets and train station lounges. The film had brought all of those memories back, both from the photos and all those in between. They felt more like dreams now. Or stories.
"Hold on, hold on," Ai said, halting the applause by raising her hands. "Don't you know you have to wait until after the credits?"
Carmen shifted to the edge of her seat. Ai hadn't told her about any after-credits scenes. Before she could even guess what it could be, the screen bloomed with a flurry of colorful faces.
Even through her tears, Carmen recognized all of them.
"Aloha, Carmen!"
It was enough of a delight already for her eyes, but there was one more surprise for her ears. She was still getting the hang of Portuguese and Mandarin, but she was more than fluent in Tantalog.
"Sorry you couldn't make it to the show last week," Heat said from his perch on Kixx's shoulder.
"But we're gonna make it up to ya tomorrow," Kixx said.
"Your new ohana told us where we can find ya," Reuben said, carefully adjusting the slices of rye on a sandwich that looked far too good for the bus station cafe.
"So we're coming to visit you all tomorrow," Angel said, followed by a brief electric fanfare from her guitar.
"We're so excited to see you again, cousin," Stitch said. Carmen knew it was a recording, but she almost thought she could see her reflection in his eyes.
"And remember..."
"You'll never be left behind or forgotten!"
Ai's film concluded with Carmen's cousins waving and blowing her kisses.
The applause resumed, but Carmen didn't join in. She thought her tears would burst out of her if her hands left her mouth.
"So, what did you think?"
Ai was back in her seat beside Carmen, who couldn't help herself. She fell into Ai's arms, squeezing her as tight as she could.
"You liked it, then?"
"Ih," she said.
She pulled away to look at her new cousin. Tears fell over her wonderful, shining grin.
"Xièxiè nǐ," Carmen said.
Thank you.