Read Online White Tiger on Snow Mountain by David Gordon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Gordon
Ads: Link
said that the images she was getting were Chinese. That I had been Chinese in a past life and that’s why I was drawn back to Taiwan. And she even mentioned this.” She reached into her collar and pulled a necklace out from under my sweatshirt. It was a small jade dragon curled on itself, with a yin-yang symbol in the center and little holes for eyes. “She said it was something I wore in my previous incarnation.”
“But I bought you that,” I pointed out.
“I know. I always said you should develop your psychic abilities. You have a lot of spiritual energy around you too. I bet you could see spirits if you were open to them. You’re just so closed off.”
“OK, OK,” I said. “Get to the part about the lover.”
“Fine,” she said, emptying her mug and starting on my cheesecake. Here’s more or less what she said: In a prior existence, back before the Second World War, Nina had been a courtesan named Su Li-Zhen, renowned in the pleasure quarter of Taipei for her singing and dancing as well as her great beauty. Su Li-Zhen fell in love with Liu Ping, the son of a wealthy merchant, but his parents refused to even consider a marriage with a fallen woman. The young lovers fled to New York, but Liu Ping’s family hired detectives who tracked them to a cheap hotel in Chinatown. In despair, they committed suicide, swearing to meet in the next life. It was in finding this reincarnated love that Nina wanted my assistance.
“But wouldn’t he be in Taiwan?” I asked.
“No. Betsy said he’s been reborn in New York. That’s why there’s so much energy around it. But he could be anyone.”
“Maybe that’s him,” I said. A very fat, very furry fellow in very short shorts was strolling by the window, singing along with his headphones. In New York, traditionally, that’s one of the first signs of spring. “Or him.” I pointed to a pigeon that was pecking at some filth on the curb. “Look, he’s trying to signal you. Hi, Nina!”
“Are you jealous?” she asked. “Is that why you’re so resistant to this? Because it’s not like a romantic thing for me. It’s a spiritual connection. I have to find this person so that Su Li-Zhen’s spirit can rest in peace.”
“I thought you were Su Li-Zhen. Her spirit is in you.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“OK, OK. I’ll help.”
And so the hunt began. We placed personal ads in the newspapers, including the Chinese ones, and posted messages on Craigslist: “Su Li-Zhen Seeks Liu Ping,” “Searching for Lost Love,” and so forth. She got a fair number of responses, ranging from the innocuous (people looking for old schoolmates) to the creepy (an Asian-themed porn peddler), but none relevant. We wandered Chinatown, going into any old buildings that we thought might once have been hotels, visiting fortune-tellers, and lighting incense in little storefront temples. I even came up with an idea: We placed the dragon amulet on a copy machine and then taped its picture all over town with a phone number underneath. But everyone who called thought it was for kung fu lessons or an underground rave club. The whole thing was inane, I know, but it was fun. We ate lots of dumplings, and I found a store that sold rare kung fu films and Hong Kong gangster movies that hadn’t been released in the United States. It rained interminably, and we spent a lot of time under my umbrella or staring out restaurant windows, past glazed ducks on hooks, watching the traffic and drinking tea. Sometimes, in a doorway, we’d kiss. I even wondered, briefly, if Nina hadn’t just cooked up this whole story as a way of getting back with me. But that wasn’t her style. When we were a couple, she had always been pretty direct. Once she asked me straight out if I was in love with her yet. I couldn’t say that I was. For some reason, at the time, my honesty seemed more important than her happiness. Now I wonder if that was just arrogance. Or fear. What harm could a little yes have
“But I bought you that,” I pointed out.
“I know. I always said you should develop your psychic abilities. You have a lot of spiritual energy around you too. I bet you could see spirits if you were open to them. You’re just so closed off.”
“OK, OK,” I said. “Get to the part about the lover.”
“Fine,” she said, emptying her mug and starting on my cheesecake. Here’s more or less what she said: In a prior existence, back before the Second World War, Nina had been a courtesan named Su Li-Zhen, renowned in the pleasure quarter of Taipei for her singing and dancing as well as her great beauty. Su Li-Zhen fell in love with Liu Ping, the son of a wealthy merchant, but his parents refused to even consider a marriage with a fallen woman. The young lovers fled to New York, but Liu Ping’s family hired detectives who tracked them to a cheap hotel in Chinatown. In despair, they committed suicide, swearing to meet in the next life. It was in finding this reincarnated love that Nina wanted my assistance.
“But wouldn’t he be in Taiwan?” I asked.
“No. Betsy said he’s been reborn in New York. That’s why there’s so much energy around it. But he could be anyone.”
“Maybe that’s him,” I said. A very fat, very furry fellow in very short shorts was strolling by the window, singing along with his headphones. In New York, traditionally, that’s one of the first signs of spring. “Or him.” I pointed to a pigeon that was pecking at some filth on the curb. “Look, he’s trying to signal you. Hi, Nina!”
“Are you jealous?” she asked. “Is that why you’re so resistant to this? Because it’s not like a romantic thing for me. It’s a spiritual connection. I have to find this person so that Su Li-Zhen’s spirit can rest in peace.”
“I thought you were Su Li-Zhen. Her spirit is in you.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“OK, OK. I’ll help.”
And so the hunt began. We placed personal ads in the newspapers, including the Chinese ones, and posted messages on Craigslist: “Su Li-Zhen Seeks Liu Ping,” “Searching for Lost Love,” and so forth. She got a fair number of responses, ranging from the innocuous (people looking for old schoolmates) to the creepy (an Asian-themed porn peddler), but none relevant. We wandered Chinatown, going into any old buildings that we thought might once have been hotels, visiting fortune-tellers, and lighting incense in little storefront temples. I even came up with an idea: We placed the dragon amulet on a copy machine and then taped its picture all over town with a phone number underneath. But everyone who called thought it was for kung fu lessons or an underground rave club. The whole thing was inane, I know, but it was fun. We ate lots of dumplings, and I found a store that sold rare kung fu films and Hong Kong gangster movies that hadn’t been released in the United States. It rained interminably, and we spent a lot of time under my umbrella or staring out restaurant windows, past glazed ducks on hooks, watching the traffic and drinking tea. Sometimes, in a doorway, we’d kiss. I even wondered, briefly, if Nina hadn’t just cooked up this whole story as a way of getting back with me. But that wasn’t her style. When we were a couple, she had always been pretty direct. Once she asked me straight out if I was in love with her yet. I couldn’t say that I was. For some reason, at the time, my honesty seemed more important than her happiness. Now I wonder if that was just arrogance. Or fear. What harm could a little yes have
Similar Books
