Page 14

Fourteen

QIANG WEN

Is it wrong to lie? Qiang Wen knows it is, on the whole, not a great thing to lie. But what if it is a lie that never hurts anyone? A lie to make people feel good. And Qiang Wen has always been good at those, ever since he was a little kid. Like telling his mother that the new dress she bought was pretty and did not at all look cheap, or telling his father that the pepper beef he cooked wasn’t too peppery, even though Qiang Wen couldn’t stop coughing after every mouthful. But these are good lies, aren’t they? Lies that help grease the wheels of life, because sometimes life can be so cruel, so jagged and harsh.

But maybe there is no such thing as a good lie. Because now, Qiang Wen’s lies are catching up with him. And it’s these lies that got him in this predicament in the first place. Lies that Xander came up with and Qiang Wen never refuted, lies that—

No. Qiang Wen needs to own up to his responsibility in this entire business. As much as he would like to blame everything on Xander, he can’t. He was a willing participant. But, oh, he was so lonely. Excuses. Anyone can come up with an excuse for anything, even murder. Tears fill Qiang Wen’s eyes as he looks at his phone. He hadn’t even known what an Instagram was before Xander. Then Xander had downloaded it on Qiang Wen’s phone and helped him create an account and followed a handful of people for Qiang Wen. One of them was Xander, of course, but the others were very interesting Chinese people who posted videos of themselves cooking Chinese food or doing tai chi or having family meals. Qiang Wen likes the last ones most; that’s all he watches nowadays, just videos of strangers eating with their families. Sometimes he cries while watching these videos.

But now, Qiang Wen isn’t looking at these strangers’ content. He’s scrolling through Xander’s profile and letting the grief and guilt and confusion surge through him in overwhelming waves. There are so many pictures and videos of Xander, and Qiang Wen misses him so much he could practically hear Xander’s voice, laughing with him, calling him “Ah Gong.” His own grandchildren don’t even call him that. They call him “Gramps,” a horrible English word that sounds so grouchy, so harsh to Qiang Wen’s ears. But when he tried to tell them to call him “Yeye” or “Gonggong,” his own daughter had told him off and accused him of taking away their autonomy. Qiang Wen hadn’t even known what an autonomy was; how could he take it away?

He smiles sadly at a video of Xander and him, both of them wearing matching aprons, making dumplings. His voice comes out tinny, barely recognizable. “The edges of the dumpling skin should be thinner than the center, so when you pinch it together, you don’t get this horrible, thick layer of dough,” Qiang Wen says in Mandarin.

“Never thought of that, Ah Gong,” Xander says, obediently rolling the edges of his dumpling skin thin. He looks at the camera and gives that heart-winning smile of his, switching to English. “Is there anything better than making dumplings with your grandfather? And these are seriously so good, you guys.”

“So good,” Qiang Wen repeats to the camera with so much earnestness that Xander laughs.

Had that moment been real for Xander? For Qiang Wen, it had been one of the sweetest memories he had, one of the happiest days in recent years that he could remember. But now he finds himself questioning what it had meant to Xander, and he hates that he’s doing this. What does it matter if it didn’t mean the same thing to Xander as it did to him? Surely all that matters is his own perception? But it does. It does, damn it. Knowing that it could all have been fabricated for social media hurts as much as if Xander had told him he hated him. It hurts so much that Qiang Wen could’ve very easily hurt Xander over this betrayal. He grips his phone tight before slamming it face down on the table with a sigh.

The best thing Qiang Wen can do right now is to forget about this whole thing. He takes a deep breath. He’s going to let this go. Forget about everything that has to do with Xan—

The door swings open. “Ni hao, Qiang Wen!” a loud voice calls out.

All semblance of peace shatters and Qiang Wen’s head snaps up, his heart immediately hammering hard against his rib cage.

In the doorway is Vera. But not just Vera. She is flanked by the man Qiang Wen recognizes as TJ and TJ’s teenage daughter Robie? Or Rowan? Something like that. And the uncannily serious little girl Emma, who would be unnerving if she wasn’t so dang cute. Qiang Wen stares at them as they pile into his little shop. Qiang Wen’s dumpling place isn’t really an eat-in restaurant. There is only one small table with two chairs for people to sit at while waiting for their order, so the addition of four people, even if one of them is pint-sized, makes the space feel overcrowded.

“Uh,” Qiang Wen burbles. It takes a moment for him to find the right words in English. “Can I help you?”

“Vera thought it would be nice to eat at your place for a change,” the teenager mutters.

Qiang Wen is really not very good with teens. His own relationship with his daughter had deteriorated when she hit puberty, and he regards the teen years as a hideous time of strange hairs and even stranger odors. He gapes at this particular teen now, unsure of what to say to her.

She glances at him sullenly before shrugging. “Don’t look at me, it wasn’t my decision.”

“Oh yes,” Vera chirps. “Grab more chairs, Qiang Wen. You have some upstair? TJ help you.”

“Uh.” Qiang Wen’s brain has stopped working somehow. This is an invasion.

“Ah, I find stool back here,” Vera says, pointing to the kitchen area. “Look, there is stack of stools. Robin, you take one, TJ take two because he is very manly and strong.”

“Um, I’m not sure…” TJ mumbles.

“You not strong and manly?”

“No, I mean like,” TJ lowers his voice, “this feels like we’re intruding on Qiang Wen’s space?”

“Don’t be silly,” Vera cries. “Qiang Wen don’t mind.” She turns to Qiang Wen and gives him a sweet smile. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Wh…” Qiang Wen’s brain gives up trying to make sense of anything and he merely nods.

“See? He don’t mind. Stools now!” Vera snaps, and Robin and TJ stand to attention and rush to get the stools while Vera plops Emma onto one of the available stools and perches on the other one herself. “Qiang Wen, I want six pork and chive dumpling, six pork and shrimp dumpling, six pork and crab dumpling, and six vegetarian dumpling. Extra chili oil. Eat in.”

“We don’t do eat in,” Qiang Wen says, but the words come out soft as a whisper, and already more stools have appeared around the small table, and four pairs of eyes are now staring expectantly, hungrily, at him. And so without quite understanding what is happening, Qiang Wen heads back into the kitchen, where he fills Vera’s order, locating the right steamers and piling them on top of one another. He brings out the stack, staggering a little under its weight, and TJ jumps to his feet and helps him place them on the table. He could’ve sworn that there was no way that they could eat around this tiny table, but somehow, they make it work. Somehow, everybody has a pair of chopsticks—Emma has a pair of training chopsticks—and a little saucer of chili oil and vinegar, and somehow, everybody is eating his dumplings and arguing good-naturedly about which filling is the best one.

Is he allowed to enjoy this moment? It feels so wrong to Xander’s memory to have a good time after his death, especially given that these people are only here because Xander died. If Xander were still alive, Qiang Wen’s life would be the lonely, drab one he’s always known, with the occasional visits from Xander as the only bright points in it. Qiang Wen watches in a daze as Robin patiently tears a pork and crab dumpling in half and helps Emma pick it up with her training chopsticks.

“Chew slowly,” Robin instructs her. “I don’t want you to choke.” And this, coming from a surly teen, is somehow all the more touching because of its unexpectedness.

But just as Qiang Wen’s heart fills with joy, Vera says, “Qiang Wen, you’ll be happy to know that I am making very good progress on investigating your grandson’s death.”

Qiang Wen’s throat tightens and he struggles to swallow.

“Well, I have post two viral videos already. Do you know what ‘viral’ mean? It is like virus, spreading very quick, from person to person. A Vera virus,” she says proudly.

“That just doesn’t sound like a good thing,” TJ says.

Vera shoots him a dirty look. “It sound like the best thing. Why anyone would not want to catch Vera virus?” She takes her phone out of her bag and brandishes it at Qiang Wen. “Look! Second video, Robin help me make. She is very good. Has over five hundred thousand views already! That’s half a million you know,” she adds unnecessarily.

“Oh,” Qiang Wen says weakly. “I don’t understand what this has to do with Xander.”

“My bad,” Vera says. “I forget to turn on volume.” She squints at the phone and fiddles with the controls. Loud noise suddenly spills from the phone. “WELCOME TO VERA WONG’S—”

“Sorry!” Vera calls out, lowering the volume. She shoves the phone back at Qiang Wen, who listens with mounting trepidation at Vera’s narration.

Stop digging! he wants to shout. Please, please stop.

But the video continues playing, showing Vera cooking while the voice-over talks about Xander and how they desperately need to know what really happened to him.

“And I am getting a lot of the DMs,” Vera says proudly. “You know what are the DMs? They stand for ‘directly messaging.’?”

“Just ‘direct message,’?” TJ mutters.

“People are doing the DM to me and giving me so much info.”

“Most of them are irrelevant,” TJ adds.

Vera’s glare slices into TJ, and he shrinks back. “TJ, nobody like a no-sayer. No-sayers say nothing, that is why they called no-sayer.”

TJ chews his dumpling sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m just…I don’t know, it’s kind of macabre to me to make content off a poor kid who died.”

“Well, she’s not just making content, Dad,” Robin says. “She’s trying to find out what really happened to him.”

“Nothing happened to him!” Qiang Wen snaps.

They all look at him. Even little Emma. Qiang Wen wishes he could crawl into the kitchen and hide from all of them.

“Sorry,” Qiang Wen says. “This is a tough subject for me.”

Vera’s face scrunches with sympathy. “Of course, Qiang Wen. He was grandson. I am sorry. I should be more sensitive to you. You don’t worry about it, my friend, I will not stop until I am under the bottom of this.”

What can he say to that? It’s not like he can say, No, I don’t want to know what happened to my grandson because I don’t want you to find out the truth. He merely nods and says, “Thank you.”

“Now, one of the DMs say, ‘Vera, you are so fabulous, you have to come to this party on Friday. A lot of people that Xander party with going there, actually he been to this house before, I see on his photo.’?”

Every pair of chopsticks, except Emma’s, stops in midair. Everyone, except Emma, stares at Vera. After a moment, Emma, noticing the sudden silence, looks around at the table, then at Vera.

“Vera,” TJ says in a wary voice, “are you saying you got an invitation to an influencer party?”

“What is influencer party? You mean influenza party? I hope not. At my age, if I get influenza it will be very bad. You know, I got a touch of pneumonia last year because—”

“Not influenza, influen cer ,” TJ says. “A party full of the who’s who of social media.”

“Oh!” Vera regards the question for a bit. “It sound like that kind of party, yes. Why?”

“Oh my god, can I go?” Robin says.

“No,” TJ says immediately.

“What is big deal?” Vera says. “I get invite to party all the time.”

They all continue staring at her until she adds, “You know, my weekly dinner with Tilly and all that. They are party.”

“Yes, we play games,” Emma adds.

“There you go,” Vera says. “Very fun party. Everybody have fun.”

“This is going to be a little bit different,” TJ says. “Listen, Vera, I don’t think you should go. I don’t think it’s safe.”

“What nonsense,” Vera says. “I am life of party, everybody say so. Back in the day, my friends and I go take a trip to Macau—oooh, the trouble we get up to. You know, we even get ban from nightclub in Macau!”

Robin’s eyes widen. “Banned from a nightclub? Oh my god, Grandma, how did that happen? Tell me everything, and do not spare the details.”

Vera opens her mouth to reply, but TJ rushes in with, “ Anyway , I just don’t think an invitation from a complete Internet stranger to a strange party is the safest thing to accept.”

“You don’t worry, TJ. I bring my police-grade pepper spray. Homemade! I make from Szechuan pepper, not only sting but make eyes go numb. Very effective. My soon-to-be daughter-in-law is in process of seeing if she can switch out the standard police issue pepper spray to mine.” When they all look skeptical, she at least has the grace to look slightly sheepish. “Well, I am sure one of these days she will realize my Szechuan pepper spray is better than their old one.”

Qiang Wen has been watching the exchange in a kind of stupefied horror so far, but now he finally snaps out of his daze and says, “Vera, I don’t understand. What is it that you are hoping to get from this party?”

“Information,” Vera says simply. “This is the kind of thing your grandson use to do all the time. I see on his profile he go to this party, that party, wah, very busy life. You don’t want to get to know his friends? People he spend so much time with? Maybe one of them know what happen to him.”

Qiang Wen’s stomach knots painfully. Nerves? Fear? Guilt? All of the above? It is a struggle keeping his voice even. “This subject is too painful for me,” he says finally. Next to him, TJ shifts on the stool, obviously uncomfortable. Good , Qiang Wen thinks. Grief should make others uncomfortable. It’s designed to drive others away so he can mourn in peace. Except that doesn’t seem to apply to Vera, who reaches out to pat his shoulder.

“I’m sure is very painful for you,” Vera says. “I cannot even imagine. But don’t you worry, Qiang Wen. We here to help. I promise you, I won’t rest until I find out what happen to your grandson.”

Nooo! Qiang Wen wants to wail. I want you to do the exact opposite. Rest without finding out what happened to him.

But that’s not the sort of thing that a loving grandparent could say, is it? He’s been backed into a corner now. He’s tried to stay away, keep his distance from this whole thing, but clearly that tactic hasn’t worked. He’s like a fly obstinately buzzing into a glass pane over and over. Maybe what he needs to do is the exact opposite. Change his strategy. Instead of shying away, Qiang Wen needs to be like Vera and rush into this head-on. With a gulp, Qiang Wen meets Vera’s eyes and says, “Then I’ll do what I can to help you.”