Page 22

Twenty-Two

QIANG WEN

Like Vera, Qiang Wen is an immigrant. And like Vera, his partner died over a decade ago—bone cancer. Unlike Vera, Qiang Wen’s offspring has moved out of the Bay Area. “Too expensive, Ba. You should move too,” she’d said. But he was too scared to leave Chinatown, and so he chose to stay put. He was fine, anyway. He had friends that he met up with twice a week to play mahjong, he did tai chi every morning, and he liked this part of the city.

The thing with being fine, though, is that when things change bit by bit, when life slides lemons to you in tiny little slices—like your mahjong buddies getting older and sicker one by one, so the mahjong sessions go from twice a week to once a week, then to every other week—it happens so slowly, so gently, that you don’t realize it’s happening until one day, there’s no one left to play mahjong with. But because of the slowness of the deterioration, you don’t realize that you’re no longer fine. You continue thinking, I’m fine , and you keep chugging along even though the small speck of sadness in your heart has grown quietly into a boulder, without you even noticing. When your kids call, you tell them you’re fine, and because they’re busy and have a million things to do and you’re just one of many things on their list they have to check off, they believe you.

Qiang Wen was fine. Everything was fine.

Then along came Xander. He wandered into the shop one morning, and they started chatting. Qiang Wen often chats with his customers; it’s probably the best part of his job. But Xander was different. As they chatted, Qiang Wen recognized something in Xander. It was the way the corners of his mouth trembled ever so slightly when he smiled, like it took a lot of effort to keep the smile up. And that haunted, empty look in his eyes—Qiang Wen shivered. It was the same look he saw in the mirror every morning. The look of someone who had given up. And that was the moment Qiang Wen realized that he was far from fine.

Xander did not have enough money to pay for his dumplings, which was somewhat strange, given he was wearing nice clothes, but Qiang Wen didn’t mind feeding him. They talked for nearly an hour that day, and Qiang Wen found himself telling Xander about his family and even showed Xander photos of them. Xander told him about his family back home in Indonesia. Then he glanced at the clock and jumped out of his seat, saying he had to go. After Xander left, Qiang Wen felt painfully empty. He shuffled about, doing mundane little tasks to keep his mind off the gaping hole in his heart. The thought pounded in his head: I am not okay. Not okay. Not okay at all. And he had no idea what to do about it. So there was nothing to do but keep puttering on as always.

A few days later, Xander came back. This time, he handed Qiang Wen a five-dollar bill. “For last time,” he said.

Qiang Wen laughed and pushed the note back to him. “Keep it.” Then he served up an assortment of his fattest dumplings.

They talked about everything. It had been a long time since Qiang Wen had held a conversation with someone who wasn’t geriatric, and he found Xander’s world really quite marvelous. Xander showed him the apps on his smartphone and helped Qiang Wen download a couple—a brain challenge game, which Xander said would be good for him, and TikTok, so he could entertain himself on slow days. He didn’t tell Xander that every day was a slow day. The following weeks, Xander dropped by regularly, and Qiang Wen found himself looking forward to seeing him again. Whenever Xander’s head popped into the shop, Qiang Wen got a joyous little glow, like the sun was shining directly on him.

And when Xander started to call him “Ah Gong,” Chinese for “grandfather,” Qiang Wen thought he might die of happiness. A grandson. A grandson who came to see him multiple times a week. A grandson whom he plied with food and fussed over and talked to.

Xander would take selfies with Qiang Wen and post them to his social media profiles with the caption “Hanging with my grandpa.” And Qiang Wen could cry happy tears at how proud Xander was of their relationship. It was too good to be true.

Then, that horrible, earth-shattering day. The argument they’d had.

Qiang Wen did not tell anyone about this. What would he even say? He had a falling out with his only friend? What was he, twelve?

And Qiang Wen had to tell the cops that no, he wasn’t Xander’s grandfather. Yes, he knew that Xander was calling him that online, but no, there was no biological connection between them. And did he know that Xander wasn’t his real name? No, he did not. Did he know Xander’s real name? No.

It seemed that Qiang Wen knew very little about Xander after all, even though Xander knew practically everything there is to know about Qiang Wen.

“Did you give him any sensitive information, like your social security number or birth date or anything like that?” the police officer said.

Qiang Wen had told her no. It wasn’t true, but what did it matter? Xander was dead. And one way or another, Qiang Wen would have to be fine, to keep going.

“Then you showed up,” Qiang Wen says in Cantonese.

Vera has been listening with wide eyes, and when Qiang Wen says that, she lets out a heavy breath. “Oh, Qiang Wen. We crossed paths so many times. We stopped to say hi to each other once in a while, but why did we never talk, really talk?”

“Habit, I suppose.”

“Yes, I think you’re right. Stupid, stupid habit. We were both so lonely, we could’ve used a friend. But, no, we just remained in our little isolated circles, bumping everyone away.” Vera gazes out the window, then turns back to him. “Well, never mind that. We’re friends now, and friends tell each other the truth. Thank you for telling me the truth. But why didn’t you tell me before?”

Qiang Wen looks down at his hands.

“Qiang Wen,” Vera says. “What is it? What are you hiding?”

He can only shake his head, not able to trust himself to speak without bursting into sobs. “I’m sorry, Vera, I lied. I couldn’t bear to face the truth.”

After Vera’s dramatic entrance earlier, he fully expects her to fly into a rage at this, but all she says is, “Ah, I thought so. Did he tell you he wanted to come clean about not actually being your grandson?”

Surprised, Qiang Wen nods. “How did you know?”

“He did the same thing with Aimes and TJ. And now I’m guessing he probably did the same thing with Millie too, but I haven’t had a chance to speak to her. So. He wanted to tell everyone the truth. Why did that bother you?”

“It wasn’t the fact that he was going to tell them we’re not really related, it was…He was rambling, he was hardly making any sense. He kept saying he was leading a double life and he was tired of preying on people and—”

“Preying on people?” Vera says, sitting up. “Did he say how?”

“No. I asked him what he was talking about, and he said, ‘It’s safer for you if you don’t know.’ Seeing him like that, so scared, it made me scared too. I told him to please leave and take whatever dirty business he was involved in with him. He was as good as a grandson to me, but in his time of need, I turned him away.” Qiang Wen moans. The truth is, the one who had betrayed the other was Qiang Wen and not Xander. “I tried contacting him after that. I regretted it almost immediately. But he never replied. I couldn’t get ahold of him. And then the police came, and well, you know the rest.”

“Preying on people,” Vera muses. “He and Aimes were pretending to be a couple online. Could that be what he was talking about?”

“Pretending to be a couple online?” Qiang Wen tries to wrap his mind around that. “But why?”

“To get more likes. They could do cute little couple things for content.”

Qiang Wen has no idea if that made any sense, but he nods and goes along with it. “I don’t think it was that. He was really torn up about whatever it was. It sounded bad, like it was eating him up.”

“I think you’re right. The thing with Aimes is not wonderful, but it’s not really the kind of thing that would bother someone like Xander too much, if he’s okay with faking everything online.”

“I didn’t know he was faking everything online.”

“Oh yes, everything. Many of the images were photoshopped, made it look like he was at some parties when he wasn’t. I’m not sure if he did that with every party he pretended to have attended—no, he must have gone to a few of them, otherwise people would’ve noticed. Anyway, yes, he faked a lot of things online.”

“What?” A deep sorrow stabs into Qiang Wen. Can it be true that he knew so very little about Xander? And why? Why would Xander have hidden so much from him? He should’ve known that Qiang Wen wouldn’t mind, wouldn’t have judged him. Again and again, Qiang Wen is realizing that he’s failed Xander in so many different ways.

“You can’t blame yourself,” Vera says, reading his mind. “You were lost and so was he, from the sounds of it. And so was I, in fact. We were all just groping around in the dark, trying to find our way out of the tunnel. You did the best you could. You provided him with a safe place to go to and good food to eat.”

Qiang Wen nods, sniffling. He takes some time to gather himself before asking, “What are you going to do now?”

“Well, I need to speak with Millie and ask her if Xander came to her about doing some sort of exposé.”

“Millie is the only one of us who knew him as Thomas,” Qiang Wen points out. “Maybe that means she knew him better than any of us.”

“Good point. I think Millie definitely knows something. Ah, don’t you worry, I’ll get it out of her. There is no one as good as me when it comes to interrogation.”

“I believe you.” And he does. He’s beginning to learn that life gets much easier when you hand over the reins to Vera.