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Archive for 九月, 2010
Here it was as crowded as it was every Saturday nights. I almost could not walk through the gate. The foreigners of Taipei who wanted to have fun but had no private party to join in thronged this temporarily paradise.
About ten people were dancing with the music on the long thin bar in front of the bartenders. I located myself in a spot across the way that was few steps higher and blocked by banister, so I could see most people’s expressions.
Some guys stared me with smile, but they were not my type; besides, I was enjoying my own company right now. The evening was young and there was no rush. I turned my attention to a guy on the bar. He might have been a Latin-American, because his body fitted the rhythm and moved sexily. But he interacted with his friends under his feet, and then shifted his attention to the woman beside him. They began teasing each other. I sighed.
On the right side near the entrance was a man in his working suit whom I met every morning on the MRT. We caught the same train after transferring from Fushing station to the Mucha line, and he always got off at the station before mine. So he didn’t spot me, he was busy flirting with a young woman who was short and only come to his shoulder. He held her tight and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh out loud.
Two people jumped down from the bar and jointed their friends. And a Taiwanese woman climbed up. She wore a low-cut black singlet tight on her body and I noticed her white chest. I remembered her. Her foreign boyfriend dumped her not long ago for another woman who was older than she, but now, she had another foreigner at he side.
In the left corner was the D.J. surrounded by his equipment and VCDs. He was young and chubby and looked down at his audience from high. He focused on the music he was playing and on our reactions to it. At the end of one song, he would skillfully mix into next one, or he might stop sometimes to hear us still singing along.
A tall young guy appeared in the middle between here and the bar. He was slim and wore a goatee. He bent his head and talked to someone, but the people beside him blocked my sight. I stretched my neck. Oh, it was a woman, but they were not that close. It seemed to me she was only an acquaintance. I observed them for a while and watched the clock. It was 1 am., time to go home.
Not to hurry. I come here every week. I will talk to him next Saturday.
We worked on the same floor but in different buildings on the opposite sides of the street. And every time I raised my head, I could see the left side of your face. I guessed you did not know that I was watching you every working day, because even thought you looked at this direction, you could not see through my tiny window.
Because of the big window of your office, I knew you worked with two colleagues in the same room. Your boss’ room was next to yours, I supposed, because it had large space as my boss’. There were also many colleagues out of your room, but I could not see them clearly.
On sunny days, you put some flowers against the window. I imagined the perfume flew in my office too. And on rainy days, you stood up often and looked downstairs. But the distance between us kept your figure dim to me.
You were always very busy. Sometimes you disappeared for a long time and were especially busy after you came back. I liked to watch your fingers tapping the keyboard quickly, as if you were playing a piano. I thought you must love music.
Once you were absent two weeks, and I made a few mistakes at work during that I felt a loss. And my life returned to normal when you showed up again. I guessed I was used to see you during working hours, and you made my job easier.
Today is a rainy day. I lunched with Mathon, my director, as usual. On the way to restaurant, the rain splattered my clothes and somehow stirred my heart. I turned my head back to say something to Mathon, and suddenly, I ran into a person. The person fell down and when I looked down, and I saw it…it…it was YOU. I recognized you immediately by your pink shirt that I saw this morning. On an employee tag was, your name, Helen. I helped you up and insisted on offering you a dinner tonight for apology. You hesitated for a few seconds and then accepted.
Now I walk back to the office with your face, your perfume and your pink shirt on my mind. I ignore totally what Marthon is saying. I am extremely happy, and I cannot wait to see you tonight.
“Miss Wang, don’t move. Your head has received a serious blow, you need a good rest.”
No, no, I am not Miss Wang, I am Mrs. Chen. Who are you? I fainted.
“Hi, you woke up. Don’t worry, little sister. The doctor said you don’t have any trauma, and you only need to stay in hospital three more days for observation,” a beautiful young woman says in front of me.
“Who…who… are… you? Where…am…I?”
“Don’t you know me? I am your sister.”
I have no sister that young. I want to move my head, but I am too weak and I feel a stabbing pain all over my body. I try to focus on someone I know in the room, but there are one three other people I don’t know either. They all look very nervous and the young woman goes out. Five minutes later, a doctor comes in with her. He asks gently: “Do you remember your name?”
I almost say my name, but I decide not to. “No…I… don’t,” I lie.
“Well, what do you remember?”
Actually, I remember a car droving fast straight at me, “I…I…I…can’t remember…”
The doctor considers few seconds, then tells the four strangers: “She may have only temporarily lost her memory. Don’t try to force her to remember anything. Let’s wait until she is better. Maybe she will remember then.”
After the doctor leaves, I ask the young woman give me a mirror. I could see the reflection is not me, but a young pale beautiful woman. I touch my chin, nose, and lips. What happened? Did I turn into another person when the car collided me? And she starts saying that the two older people are my parents and the other short woman with dark skin is our maid. I had a car accident because my boyfriend drank a little bit much. We clashed a poor old woman who died on the spot. My boyfriend is still in the Intensive Care Unit. I realize my soul occupied this woman’s brain, and I curse her boyfriend and hope he never recovers.
During the three observational days, I cannot eat and cannot stand up. When the doctor finally declares that I have no more effects from the concussion and I can eat again, I almost want to cry. I only stay in hospital two more days and my parents and sister take me home.
It is a garden house on Young Ming Mountain. When they show me my room, wow, it is big. I look around slowly. A queen-size bed against the window, bright green wallpaper, plenty of English books on the bookshelves, a wood dressing table, and a photo of a smiling woman on the night table. There is also a full-length mirror nearby. I take a good look into the mirror and see a woman with big round eyes and dyed long hair woman looking back at me. The smooth skin makes me feel the young is back to me again. I have to admit that she is quite pretty.
I attend the seventy years old woman’s funeral and farewell to my past. Now, I am twenty-three and my name is: Wang Su Yuan.
Last September, I joined a tour group of 25 to attend the Tai Ya Tribe’s harvest festival.
One of the attractions was making rice cake which is used when worshiping the gods. Two girls in Tai Ya traditional clothing showed us how to thresh grain. Our tour guide told us a fairy tale relating to this ritual.
‘According to the story, if the woman, who threshes the grain, is still a virgin, the rice won’t jump out of the mortar. Does any one want to try it?’
In our group, there were several pretty young girls who wore short vests and short paints. Hearing this, their faces reddened and they covered their smiling mouths. They nudged each other forward but no one was willing to volunteer. Suddenly, Mrs. Chao, in her fifties and the oldest lady in this group, raised her right hand bravely and spoke loudly: “I will try.”
She did it without spilling the rice. We all applauded her excitedly. The tour guide scratched his head and explained that it was only a fairy tale.
Mrs. Chao looked straight at her husband standing at the back of the crowed, with both sadness and hate in her eyes.
Fumbling with my keys, I can’t open the door where my wife, my honey, lives. I try a couple times, but it’s useless. Isn’t the lock the same as this morning, has it not been changed? I don’t want to push doorbell, because it is midnight.
I remember today is my wedding anniversary. I promised my wife I would come back earlier this morning, but Linda, my beautiful client, came to my office for a project this afternoon. I invited her out for dinner, and surprisingly, she accepted. After a few drinks, I touched down. Trust me, she was gorgeous. I treated it as a bonus for working hard. Regarding my wife? It is O.K. I will make her up tomorrow.
Wait a minute, on honey’s birthday, it happened too, almost in the same situation. It was Monica, a sweet woman who always smiled. And honey stopped hugging me after that day. Oh, last year, my boy’s birthday, I also absented. Yes, Natasha, she was so sweet and so hot. And then on Chinese lover’s day, I even reserved a romantic restaurant, but I didn’t show up. This time it was Samantha, but I so regretted that, she was a dead fish. I would rather have had had dinner with my honey, but since that day she seemed to forget to kiss me every morning when I left home.
Of course I love my wife. She is the mother of my handsome boy. You know, I proposed with a one-karat diamond ring; I celebrated our first anniversary with diamond earrings; I gave her a diamond bracelet for her labor; and a diamond necklace for the second anniversary. The diamond is the symbol of my true heart and she knows that. And now, a diamond foot chain lies in my pocket. I will put it on the pillow tomorrow morning before she wakes up. She will love it and dine with me as usual.
Click, the door opens; see, I am not that drunk. My honey is sleeping in sexy blue silk pajamas now. Funny, the tears that I see on her face.
Give me one more minute, and then I will call 110.
I have been waiting for ten years for your death. I will not allow that woman to come to your funeral. You belong to me, and me only.
Did you remember how you promised my parents that you would take care of me? But after our second son was born, after I could not dump my 20 kilos of fat, and you secretly had a woman. Of course I knew it, but pretended I did not know. How could I give up my rights, give up my sons, and let that woman take charge of this family? I cried for one month when you were with her. Then I decided to kill you.
I persuaded you to get a vasectomy, so could not have any more children, and then I insured you for NT$10,000,000. I started to cook treats for you, such as stewed pork knuckles and beef stresses-chuan style, often high fat and high calorie foods, fried vegetables with port oil. I increased the salt bit by bit. You loved what I cooked for you, and ate it all with guilt.
And I only ate rice with eggs and mild soup which you did not taste at all, and a lot of fruit. You gained two kilos every year, while I lost the same weight every year. I imagined that woman holding your obese body with a disgusted expression, knowing she had to endure you for money.
Just now, your hands grabbed your chest, your mouth opened to breathe, your face twisted in pain, and you fell to the floor. I am smiling. I am finishing my lunch. I peel an apple and eat it slowly.
Our two sons will be back in almost five minutes; I guess it is the time to call.
異象化的電影世界 