Instead of driving a few feet down the road to the Chinese take-away, I decided to walk it for a change. I was having a bad day. Not the worst day, but just a shitter-than-usual one. The fresh air would do me good.
The town was busy for a Tuesday evening—student nights are Thursdays and they were out in force for something.
I made my way into Happy Panda and I had a flashback of my time in China with Chris, my twin brother.
We were in a restaurant that smelled exactly like what Happy Panda was smelling like tonight. Why was this memory coming through now? I’d been here lots of times before, in fact probably too often, so why China and Chris now?
Thinking back on it anyway, what a blast we had. We spent three months just bumming around the country. We started off in Hong Kong for a few weeks. Partying all night and then for days, spending time apart. I would sit in parks drinking coconut milk or tea and could have stayed there all day if it weren’t for the humidity.
We took trains and busses all over the country and spent days in secluded villages that really were off the beaten track and guidebooks. Once, we stayed in this mountain village hut/hostel and couldn’t believe ourselves we were here.
I can remember one night we went out, must have been four in the morning, and followed a path along a river near where we were sleeping. We didn’t have a clue where we were going, or even had any fear for our lives because the slate path was slippery and raised towards the water. We were silent, and this is what I love about my brother, we don’t have to say anything to each other.
The place was still. The cicadas and crickets had even stopped, or I had stopped hearing them. The only noise was my heartbeat, and the sound of the gushing water.
The further we went, the louder it got, and within the hour we knew a waterfall was somewhere upstream.
Chris was so damn happy that night. Here we were, right in the middle of a village, in a gorge, in China. He was, and still is, much more adventurous than me—his decision all along to come here, and to China. When it’s just us two, he brings out the best in me and I’d go along for the caper. Up ahead, he would turn and smile to me every so often with a look on his face that just said, “I can’t believe we’re here.” Cheshire-cat smile.
Soon enough the most unbelievable sight presented itself, the source of this river and nature looking stunning. A waterfall complete with plunge pool and hut-home by the water’s edge. We were gobsmacked and in awe. Living in Belfast all your life you don’t exactly see the world like this, or imagine someone, somewhere is living beside a waterfall.
The moonlight was in a perpetual state of flux as the waterfall made ripples in the pool below. We were getting drenched in the cool spray and decided now was the time to plonk ourselves down and just stare all around us—drinking it in.
We weren’t exactly doing anything wrong, but it felt mischievous none the less. This whole area probably belonged to the village where we were staying.
A Chinese door-greeting beeped out at me and Arthur was working behind the counter at the back.
“Jack, wha’s the craic?”
“All good thanks Arthur. Busy tonight?”
“So-so. Students are out in force like! We’ll be busy later when the pubs shut.”
Arthur’s cool, in his late forties I think. He’s lived here all his life so he tells me, and has a thick west Belfast accent.
“Can’t be a bad thing?”
“Aye, keeps the Mrs happy. What’ll it be?”
“Kung Po chicken.”
“Boiled rice, fried rice?”
“Fried rice.”
He nodded and went back to the kitchen and I sat in a booth with my back to the counter. I flipped through the bunch of newspapers and its innards.
I was getting into a story, of what must be an infinite amount of stories on the failing economy, when I felt a poke on my shin. I cursed and pulled the papers down to see a five foot tall Chinese woman with one leg, two crutches and a jet black beehive hairdo.
“Yo, long face, wha’s up?”
What the…
She poked me again with her left crutch, “Eh, sad face, wha’s up?”
“Hey what are you at?” I tried to brush her off, literally, brush her crutch poking off my leg.
“You come in here tonight, everyone else so happy.”
“Ah, ok…”
“Squeeze up. Make room.”
Oh god no. How long was Arthur going to be? In a place with about twelve free tables, four other people, this woman sits beside me, not even in the facing seat. I couldn’t turn around now too or she’d poke me again.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Man up. Why so sad?” She had direction that’s for sure.
“I’m not sad.”
“Yes, you are. Everyone else here so happy. You… um, not so much.” She was either going for wise and know-it-all, or mental and deranged.
“I’m not sad.”
“Oh yeah big boy,” She burst out laughing, “You are Tommy Cooper. You are laughing. You are smiling.”
“I’m not laughing right now… besides, this is a take-away restaurant at eight-thirty on a Tuesday evening, no one in here is happy.”
“You so clever!” She had a really deep voice when she was being sarcastic. “You come in here, all sighs and tuts and you drag your feet up to my nephew. No pleases or thank yous.”
Ah. Visiting, “I’m sorry…” Was that what she wanted to hear?
“Sorry, pfft! Sorry for wha?”
“For being rude to Arthur. I didn’t think I was.”
“That’s a problem you have! You need work on that!”
I really didn’t need a lecture this evening. I was more than polite to Arthur, I think. I hope. Damn she was confusing me.
“Listen, I don’t need any…”
“Your problem. You having a mild day. Some people are off with you. You take it on board. You not even polite with Huan!”
“I’m sorry, what? Who’s Huan?”
“My nephew!” She swung her crutch and whacked my shin again.
“Stop that!” I yelled. “I forgot, sorry,” I rubbed my shin, “Stop that please.”
“You don’t know hardship. You don’t know difficulty. You think you having bad day, big boy. You need think again.”
“I think my food is ready.”
“No. Huan is too slow, and fat. We have five mo minutes.”
I looked at the clock on the wall—eight-oh-five.
“Do you know Pinocchio?”
Oh my god. Is she being serious? “Yeah. Sure, why not.”
“No sarcasm.”
“I’m sorry, continue.”
“He lies. What happens when he lies?”
“His nose gets longer?”
“Pig shit! He deceives everyone around him. Make them think he telling truth. That’s a lie. He lie to himself.”
“What’s your point?”
“You lie.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do.”
“No. I don’t.”
“We do this all night Tommy Cooper!” She laughed her head off at what was fast becoming the wax-on, wax-off moment of her life, and my worst evening imaginable.
“No more lies. Be happy for change.”
“Kung Po chicken fried rice.” A girl said behind me.
“Can you excuse me?” I said to Arthur’s mental aunt.
“Ok, but be happy.” She continued to sit there looking at me. It was then that I noticed her, really noticed her. She had wrinkled skin like I’d never seen before. Her general presence reeked of stale cigarettes and something sweet, like intense vanilla and chocolate. Her breath stank, I was sure of that. But her smile, she looked genuinely happy and content.
“Oh, ok. I promise.”
“Good.” She got up, and hobbled off and poked a woman’s shin a few booths up. “Squeeze up. Make room, Tina Turner.”
It was ten past eight on the clock. I grabbed my food and bolted for the side exit instead of having to pass her and Tina.
