WAITING FOR THE BEGINNING

44. Where life and death crosses path

In the days that followed, De Yi and Ping Ping determine quietly to move forward.  Neither speaks about it.  They merely act upon the resolve, each in his / her way.    

Yet even in this new normal, a sense of something askew remains.  Both know it. Neither can define it. Even less give it a name. A voice.

He dismisses it as part of her condition where her memories of their past remain shattered in pieces.  She agrees.  In part.  He seems to have a blind spot that in those missing interim years, she has built other memories.  He believed that if things continued on this path, it would lead only to one logical destination.

For her, much more than just missing their memories, it is the inability to forget her new memories as herself, with Wei Xin.  Yet the first law of physics seems to be at work; the harder she tries, the more vivid the loss and the legitimacy of Wei Xin in her heart.   For her, the deliberate choice to forget Wei Xin proved her commitment to De Yi.  Little by little, she believes that De Yi's kisses, embraces would erode whatever she has or rather had with Wei Xin.

With their new routine, he no longer pressures her to return to Shanghai -- the city of their youth and innocence. Their new routine marks a restart and new phase. One that is transitioning from unsettled to comfortably not knowing. Living with the mystery and a tentative hope.

She cooks strange regional cuisines that is both homey and of another world. One in which he is a stranger.

There perhaps lies one of those subtle uncertainties. Her taste has changed. He no longer knows everything about her.  She no longer leans into him like he's the source of her stability.

One night, he suggests they make dumplings together.  She nods and then asks what kind he likes.  Not remembering the traditional pork with mushroom, shrimp and cilantro that they've shared on so many special occasions.  He smiles tightly, then proceeds to order in dinner.

That one conversation reveals so much more with what is not said than what is said. Instead of the transparency they shared, they each now have unspoken things regarding each other. Secrets they don't mean to keep. But best not said.

These little inconsistencies motivates him to make her more irrevocably his.  His patience and kindness to overlook these gaps compel her to try harder to conform to the way he remembers her.  The her she thinks he wants her to be.

In the twilight of a cold December evening, he warms her under the comforter.  

"Ping."  He kisses her on her left shoulder.  "Let's leave this city."

"Um."  She responds, her body tensing slightly.  "You want to go back to Shanghai."

"No."  He kisses her other shoulder.  "Some where we don't know anyone.  Some place where we can make new memories."

Her body relaxes and then shudders as his kisses traces the back of her neck.  More than her physical response, her heart struggles as if un-rooting her from this city means something entirely different than just leaving.  Just as quickly, she reminds herself that this is an opportunity for her to choose De Yi intentionally.

"Okay."  She bids back the tears and turned to face him.  

On that fateful weekend, he returns to Shanghai to retrieve the engagement ring he purchased four years ago and to make some business preparations.   If he knew what was about to transpire, he surely would have made different decisions.

In his absence, she strolls about the city - bidding it a farewell.  The meandering path takes her past the run down part of town hiding the safe house - her apartment with Wei Xin.  It passes the flower shop, the tea house, the luxury condos to which she made many deliveries.  

Step by step, she walks.  Step by step, she says goodbye.  Step by step, she plods towards destiny.  Unaware.

The hospital emergency room is a place of fate.  Where life and death crosses path.  And sometimes more.

As she approaches the hospital, she notices the commotion and increased frenetic energy.  Her feet moves her towards the atrium, as if they obey a different master - one that understands the urgent announcements over the intercom have special meanings for her.

Code blue.  Code red.  All available personnel report to the ER.  Attention, the hospital will be in lock down in 5 minutes  Please follow directions of the medical personnel and officers to ensure the safety of everyone.

From that distance, she watches as if a slow motioned portion of a movie, the uniform officers holding back the crowds to make room for the rush of gurneys, each drenched in various dosage of blood and accompanied by a team of medical personnel.

Then the hairs on the back of her neck tingle.

She identifies a familiar face - the face of the man who watched her on the train.  The man who brought her breakfast that first day in the safe house.  The man who is running along side the gurney and shouting.

Then she notices the man she'd come to know as Uncle Tao.  The man who taught her about flowers, secret messages and the inevitability of goodbyes.

Her feet move on its own, charging her towards the chaos.  The tears streak down her cheek without her even realizing.  She catches a glimpse the man on the gurney, covered in rivets of blood.  his expensive suit torn apart - displaying the tattoos.  Parts of which look all too familiar.

The police officer stops her trying to break the line.  She grabs onto the officer for support, her body shaking in horror and then she hears someone screams in hysteria. 

"No........"  

That screamer is her.  And her shrills echo thru out the hall.