Rosa: A Wangxian Reincarnation Story

The Price Of Letting Go

The hotpot is delicious and the three of us enjoy ourselves. We laugh and tell stories of our childhoods (current). All of us are onlies and while Xavier and I had very similar all-American childhoods, we are fascinated by Alain's life in France. Playing hide and seek with cousins amid the family vineyards. Riding horses since childhood and joined the Olympic equestrian team at fifteen. His family is very well off and could afford to send him to college in Paris where he earned a double license in cinematography and English Studies. Xavier, curiosity piqued, asked a question, one both of us needed an answer to. "Why did you choose the Holocaust as your first documentary." For me, it is a sore subject, and I prefer to keep those last memories of us as a couple to myself, so I stay silent and listen. "I am not certain. I do know that as a child, all of us learned of it, from a French perspective, at a very early age. It is something still very raw there. The ground, everywhere, is sacred now, so bloodied as it was." He thought deeply and he took a small sip of buttery chardonnay. "I first read about it at eleven. I discovered small bits of information about gay persecution but not a lot. I knew by then that I liked other boys and I felt a strange sense of desperate sadness, knowing that many were exterminated for this reason. Yet, I felt oddly distant (I suppose being young, I felt that this horror was not something I could willingly face) and I filed it away. When I decided to be a filmmaker I remembered the obsession I had as a child, and as a gay man, I felt a responsibility to others like me, to open my eyes and tackle the horrors of it all. I researched to the point of insane exhaustion. I needed, was obsessed, with knowing all I could. I traveled to key cities and countries, researching, and filming. The last few places I traveled to, were Berlin and then the camps that held the earliest transportees. By then I was worn out. I put it away for a year or so. Then I tackled it when I felt strong enough. " I finally speak up. "How did you choose Charlottesville as your opening site?" He smiles warmly at me and I feel that I am melting again. Images of last night surface instantly. "I have a question first. Have you started wearing contacts recently?" "No. Why?" "Because your eyes have changed a bit. They shine like silver in certain lights." I am startled and Xavier chokes on a scallop he has just fished out of the hotpot. "Oh." I stammer. "I...I get that way when I get happy or excited sometimes. I haven't had that happen in a long time." Xavier interrupts quickly. "You were telling us about your choice of Charlottesville." Alain takes my hand and kisses my palm and casually continues. "I knew I wanted to open quietly in the States. And I wanted somewhere that would bring me a mix of liberal and conservative reactions. I wanted young and old to see it too. So I looked at college towns and the only one that stood out, pulled me towards it as it were, was Charlottesville. I researched and read about their gay community. Good-sized, fervent, accepting. I saw photos. And well, I must confess, I even saw a photo of you at an event, Mon Petit. It was just once but when I saw you in distress at my opening, it surfaced in my mind. I had to help you and I had to get to know you better. Something compelled me to seek you out." I try to speak but I cannot. I am suddenly overwhelmed and I feel dizzy. This is my final confirmation and I am weirdly unable to absorb the rush of emotion. I look to Xavier who has a sheen of tears in his eyes. He has accepted it, so why is the only thing I feel is that old urge to run? Because Alain is the only one clueless and I am now helpless to decide how to tell him our story I would stand to lose him if he cannot accept it. I am about to fall apart at the confused look on Alain's beautiful face. It slaps me back to reality. I cannot make him face it again. I cannot sit with him, tell him the truth, and tear his safe new reality away. He needs to live his life without the past clouding it for him. I stand quickly and mumble the usual excuse. "I need to visit the men's room." I plaster on a sick smile and head there then deviate to the rear exit. I stand still for a minute, gasping for air. Then I run, as quickly as I can to my apartment, shutting and locking the door. I manage to pull out my phone and text him a message. 'Ill. Too spicy. Headed home. Please make sure Xavier gets home safely. I am sorry. See you tomorrow. S.' I make my way to my bedroom closet and pull a box from the top shelf. I open it to reveal the black and red tunic I have made new every year. Below it is a set of robes in blue and white. I leave them in the box. They will not be needed this lifetime. I go to the living room and place the porcelain figures into the box and then remove Subian and Bichen from the mantle. Everything must be hidden from view. They are unbearable to me right now. I run to my studio and with one hand rip the wall-hanging down as well and let it drop. I fumble in my front pocket for the key and open the door wide. I walk to the table and open the box, removing the tunic, and discovering Chenqing among the folds of silk. I lay him aside a moment and he protests, with a single note. Then I strip down and begin to don my old attire. I fold the wall hanging into fourths then lay it down on the floor. I place Bichen and Subian on either side of the crane brocade and I pick up Chenqing, sinking to my knees, twirling him smoothly, the weight of him natural to my hands. He sounds out on his own, a cry for attention. I gentle him as I stroke the ebony wood and raise him to my lips; the song Lan Zan wrote for us fills the studio. It will be the only part of Lan Zhan left to me in this lifetime, after tonight. I will set my memories of my beautiful man aside so he can rest and we will enjoy the remainder of this life as Scott and Alain. I will help Lan Zhan immerse himself fully, in the new.And the tears begin to flow.-