Stavro Yianni
© 2003

      The Queen of the Far East, a little restaurant that was situated bang in the middle of Chinatown, was quiet.

      I was sitting at a table on my own. A generous basket of prawn crackers sat in front of me. I chewed them up one at a time. A bottle of soy sauce, a knife, a fork, salt, pepper and a single candle also lay before me. Chopsticks to the left, breadsticks to the right. I needed none of these, as I already possessed my tools. I gazed at the wax as it melted down the candle and formed a shapeless mass in the cup of its silver holder. The glow of the flame added a bit of warmth to the place, especially as it was pouring down outside.

      I was listening to the elderly Chinese man sitting on the table two away from me, talking to an attractive young Chinese lady. From what they were talking about, I gathered that they were father and daughter. I listened intently to what they were saying. He was dressed well. A black Gucci suit, expensive. Gold covered his hands. A cigar sat in the ashtray next to him, awaiting its user. His face looked drawn, yet healthy. A few wrinkles, but for his age, he still looked fresh. His white hair, with a few black streaks still surviving, was brushed back from his brow.

      His daughter inherited her father’s facial features. She was beautiful. Her slanted Eastern eyes were seductive, enticing. Her cheekbones were high, her skin, smooth. Semi-full lips. A petite nose. Her long, straight, shiny black hair finished the portrait. Dark eyes and white teeth sparkled in the candlelight.

      I picked up a prawn cracker and placed it in my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue. My eyes never left the couple. I sat, facing their profiles, the two sitting opposite one another. What remained of the cracker crunched and tasted good. I immediately placed another into my mouth and repeated the procedure.

      So far, I had gathered that my only two companions in the restaurant had something to celebrate.

      ‘Everything will work out,’ he told her.

      ‘I hope so. I’m glad you like him. I was a bit scared that you wouldn’t approve of...you know. Us.’

      ‘Well...you’re right. I don’t really like the idea of my little girl being taken away from me...’ He smiled and she laughed, pretending to hit him. ‘But, seriously. You have done well for yourself. You have my blessing.’

      ‘I love you father,’ she replied. ‘What would I do without you?’ She smiled revealing her pearly teeth. He also smiled, revealing gritty, yellow teeth, one of which was solid gold. He placed an old, worked claw on her smooth feminine paw.

      I ate another prawn cracker and glanced outside. Rain smeared the window. The air was icy. Through the distorted glass, I could see a side door open across the road, revealing an old man brutally chopping up what looked like a chicken on a wooden pedestal with a sharp meat cleaver. Next to him, an old woman, presumably the man’s wife, swept dirt from her porch with a battered broom.

      Mrs. Ming, who owned the restaurant, brought me the coffee I had ordered, extra strong. She gave me a wide grin. I just ignored her, not interested in older ladies. She scurried back into her kitchen, leaving us alone again. I took a sip of the coffee; it was nice, just how I like it. I chewed up another cracker and carried on listening to the conversation happening on the other table.

      ‘...call your brother tomorrow.’

      ‘I don’t think he’d want to come,’ she said.

      ‘How can you say that?’ He sounded angry. ‘He may have done some bad things…but, I know that he loves his little sister and wouldn’t miss her marriage for the world…He’ll come.’

      ‘What about the family?’ she asked.

      ‘What about them?’

      ‘They may not want to see Shih.’

      ‘I don’t care!’ He waved his hand in the air. ‘He’s my son and your brother, so they’ll have to see him whether they want to or not. The girl nodded and a pause took over. She soon broke it.

      ‘Michael and I want to repay you.’

      ‘For what?’

      ‘For what you’ve done for us.’

      ‘Don’t…You’re my daughter. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,’ he told her. ‘Just keep me that way and you’ve repaid me.’ They smiled again, and his grip tightened on her hand.

      I reached for another prawn cracker and felt an empty plate, so my attention turned to Mrs. Ming who had wandered back into her restaurant floor from the kitchen. I asked her for the bill, not bothering with any more food, I wasn’t that hungry. Besides, I had to go. She left the room to sort it all out for me. I glanced over to the other table and listened more.

      ‘...this country. Go back to China, where it’s safe.’

      ‘Are we in danger?’

      ‘No, no, no...I’m just homesick.’ They both laughed.

      ‘We’ll be a happy family again. Me and Michael. You and Shih, all together. I can’t wait!’

      ‘I promise you, everything will work out.’ He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. Silence along with smiles prevailed.

      Mrs. Ming came back with my bill on a small plate. She didn’t grin this time, but instead turned and scurried back into her kitchen. There were a couple of fortune cookies on the plate alongside the bill. I cracked one open. I left the cookie behind and read the message inside: LAUGH AND THE WORLD LAUGHS WITH YOU. CRY AND YOU CRY ALONE. Very true. Especially the last bit. I gazed back out of the window and noticed the three-quarter moon hanging in the black sky. I always thought that she looked like she was pregnant at that stage. Like she’d burst. A few stars twinkled here and there, visible even through the heavy rain. I liked that.

I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. I opened it. I had one left. I don’t smoke that much, just now and then. I placed it in my mouth, crumpled up the empty packet and threw it in the ashtray. I lit my cigarette and took a couple of long drags off it. From my pocket, I retrieved my wallet and placed some money on the bill, leaving the change as a tip. My shades then went on as I got ready to leave.

      The two figures in front remained seated as I stood. They were smiling. Both joyous and optimistic about the future. Icy chills ran up and down my spine for a few seconds. Someone walking over my grave. Mrs. Ming reappeared and placed two glasses on their table. She poured a colourless liquid into them. She disappeared again to their thankyous. I took a last gulp of my coffee and a final drag on my cigarette. I extinguished it in the ashtray. I stood, ready to leave. Grins from ear to ear appeared on the happy father and his daughter, as they raised their glasses. They clinked together, creating an echo. My eyes never left them as I spread open my long, black trench coat. My hand reached inside, and it touched cold, hard steel. I revealed the pump-action rifle, my favourite gun, which I had concealed under my coat.

      Chuckles and ‘cheers’ were their last sounds. I pumped the gun, which broke their laughter. Terror raced across their faces, and for once, the girl looked old and ugly. I raised the business end of the rifle and aimed at the old man...BANG. He was taken out of the formula. The girl froze, perplexed, horrified. Blood stained her all over. She screamed and turned to face me. Glass shattered. Pump and BANG. She got it. A shot in the chest. The face was too beautiful to ruin. The bodies slumped, blood quickly flooding the once clean floor. I replaced the gun back beneath my coat and surveyed the scene, thinking what a waste the young girl was. But, there wasn’t time for dwelling. Slickly, I turned and darted out into the downpour, where I felt at home, just before Mrs. Ming came rushing in. Just before she began to scream.