Chapter 3

Two days later . . .

I sat on his bed with my hands on my lap, looking out the window. The sun was setting. The whole room was orange. I squinted when the sunlight hit my face. That made me get up & continue my little tour around his apartment. I had to persuade the clerk to let me in Jann Lee's room. He told me I had a short time, because the government or someone was coming to take the belongings. I hoped that I would be able to keep some of his things just to remember him by. I already liked his bed sheets, which were black with golden vines roaming around them. And I liked his miniature statue of a red dragon on his hind legs. It was on the dresser. The dresser was tall, about up to my shoulders & it was made out of dark wood. I went over to it. There wasn't much on it except some paper & the figurine; there wasn't even dust.

I shuffled the paper around until they were neatly stacked. It was the least I could do. Then I looked at them. They were listings of some clubs & the phone numbers. I looked at the next paper. Some phone numbers. Then the next one. It was a note with messy writing. So I read it:

You never listen, do you? I knew it would be useless to keep telling you. I just waste my breath everytime. But now I don't care anymore. You can do as you like from now on. But I'd be careful if I were you. He's been off-track lately & he could probably do something harsh again. Oh yeah, do you remember that drunk last night? You know, the one who thought you were a woman (that was funny)? Would you believe that guy's dead? No surprise there. He was a lowlife anyway. My relatives say I should get out of China, but I keep telling them that it's nothing like the movies. Sure there's trouble here, but not anything harsh. Okay, not often. Anyway, I'm getting off-track. I'll stop here. Take care. And you be careful next time. You better listen to me.

PS. Can you believe my sister's afraid of you? You're probably not surprised . . .

That was the end of it. There was no signature.

Must be from one of Jann Lee's bouncer buddies . . .

I laughed to myself.

Bouncer buddies . . . If only Jann Lee could hear me say it . . .

I was getting sad again.

I looked over the note & remembered the part about some guy being off-track & how he could do something harsh.

Could it have been . . .? No, no, no . . . Well, maybe . . .

I set it down, thinking that if Jann Lee were here right now, he would be angry that I was searching his apartment.

The last piece of paper was a drawing of his face. I stared at it. It was so detailed. Everything fit perfectly. The spikes in his hair, his tweezed eyebrows, the small wrinkles in his lips, & his flat cheekbones. His head was turned, but his eyes were on me almost as if he was really there & looking at me.

Lian can draw like this.

I had to keep it. I folded it up & slipped it into my skirt pocket. Then I looked down at the drawers. I opened the middle one. There were shirts inside. I recognized one of the shirts. It was the blue one with the yellow falcon on the back. I remembered telling him that I liked it & it looked nice on him. He just said thanks & never wore it again. That made me unhappy. I thought he didn't like me. But it all changed when he told me that my dress was nice. The dress I always wore to the tournaments, that is. I had gone a little overboard from his compliment & nearly screamed out if he really thought so. That was funny. Everyone had looked our way. But you shouldn't blame me. It was very rare that Jann Lee gave compliments.

I remembered fighting alongside him in the tournaments, winning most of our matches as if it were yesterday. Then he leaves me & I leave him, but we soon see each other to fight one another.

Those were the days . . .

I had been determined to prove to him that I wasn't weak. I lost against him three times. I was always told not to give up, but I had lost interest in fighting him after the third tournament. Mostly everyone couldn't believe me. I couldn't believe myself. I was so determined to beat him, but then almost instantly, I stopped caring.

"What's the point in chasing something that's too fast for me to catch or studying something that's too complex for me to understand?" I had asked myself after I lost against him for the third time.

I never stopped to think what Jann Lee thought about it. I actually thought he was relieved. I wouldn't terrorize him about it ever again. It was fun though. I remembered leaving messages on his answering machine, telling him that he was going down & that I would take what dignity he had left & eat for breakfast. Mess like that. I probably left thirty messages on his answering machine each day just before the second tournament. Then I stopped doing it after I lost against him for the second time. It didn't affect Jann Lee. He actually found it funny & he told me so.

It's too hard to believe he's gone . . . There won't be moments like that again.

I could remember meeting him for the first time. He supposedly saved my life, but I didn't need his help. I had finally mastered Tai Chi & I wanted to try it out, but some guy had got to the hoodlums first. He had some nerve calling me weak . . .

I thought his name was Gi at first, but soon found out it wasn't. I also found out he lived in an orphanage since he was young, but soon moved out. I guess you could say I was determined to find out who he was.

I shut the drawer back, thinking it would be best not to search them. His place was making me depressed, but I wanted to be there. After all, I was only in his apartment once, but that was against his will.

There wasn't much in his room. Just his bed, dresser, closet, window, lamp, bathroom, & doorway to his living room. I had already looked through there. Nothing much, but a TV set, some DVDs, couch, which was really soft, some paintings, a coffee table, & the kitchen. There wasn't much food in the cabinets, but there was tons of food in the refrigerator. The stove was clean as if it has never been used.

I always knew Jann Lee wasn't the cooking type.

There was someone bringing him food though. I saw a note on top of a glass container in the refrigerator. It was from a girl. She must have known him since he was in the orphanage, because she wrote stuff about how she kept telling him to stop eating cold food or something & that she needed to go over there sometime & teach him how to cook.

I walked towards the doorway to the living room & stopped to listen. There were people coming down the hallway.