Chapter 92

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Yesterday, I took my family to a restaurant for dinner. We had barbeque pork with all the trimmings—kimchi, Chinese mushrooms, sautéed onions, etc. The food was delicious. I washed the vittles down with two bottles of soju. I became quite drunk.

The Dragon Lady said, "Soon Ken go to Amerlican plom."

I said, "Plom? What the fuck is plom."

Ken said, "She means prom. And no, I'm not going."

I said, "You might go. It's too early to tell. That doesn't happen for another couple of years yet."

He said, "I'm not going!"

She said, "No sassy tawk."

I said, "Ken's not sassy. He never gets into trouble at school." I turned to him. "Have you ever had a detention?"

"No."

The five-hundred-pound gorilla was suddenly back in the room. I could feel my heart fill with the usual hatred.

I said, "Why did you kick him out in the first place? He's such a nice boy."

She said, "You da fucken idiot. He not da nice boy. He neva study in Kolea."

"But he did study. He had all As and Bs."

"He not get good glades. He onry pray da computa game."

Ken said, "Leave it alone, Dad. I'm happy in Texas. I don't want to live in Asia. I'm going to get a job to help pay for college."

My hatred was quickly replaced with fear. Soon my wife will collect money for the villa. A construction company plans on tearing it down in the near future to build something more modern. But I don't trust The Dragon Lady. There's no doubt in my mind that her and her family will steal all of my cash. I often feel like Jonathan Harker in Dracula's castle. I'm surrounded by evil supernatural beings, and there ain't fuck all I can do about it.

I said, "When we buy a new apartment, I need my name on the deed. We can co-sign."

She didn't respond.

I know in my heart that I'm pretty much fucked. My life savings will eventually be in the hands of my greedy Asian family. But I'm cool with the knowledge. Perhaps she'll finally divorce me. After all, she's got everything I own. The blood has been sucked from my body, and I've been reduced to a husk. But I refuse to give up. I can always start over in China and spend my remaining years in peace.

We walked back to my humble abode in silence. I took a shower and said the Lord's Prayer on bended knees. I asked Jesus to kill my wife. But he won't do it. That's not his job. I'm supposed to love her—even though she's murdering me in a slow and painful fashion. Oh well. What's a boy to do?

I read an online newspaper before going to bed. The Chinese government has now banned all gay internet sites. The powers that be want to protect the citizens from unsafe and immoral sexual practices. I've never been a huge public supporter of the fags, the lesbos, or the lady boys. But—like all red-blooded Americans—I believe deeply in free speech. To that end, China should go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut. But I plan to keep my opinions to myself after arriving on the mainland. The last place I need to be is a Chinese prison.

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