Eat a Bowl of Tea. Louis Chu
Chin Yuen asked the younger man, “Little brother, do you go in for a little recreation from time to time?” Before Ben Loy had a chance to answer, he added, “I mean such as girls.”
“Girls? Where? In this town?” asked Ben Loy, incredulously. He was sitting on the edge of his bed. He proceeded to take off his snow-dampened shoes and socks. He had known Chin Yuen for only two weeks.
“No, no, stupid boy,” said Chin Yuen. “Not in this town.” Chin Yuen looked like a pocket edition of a fat man with big round eyes. “In New York.”
“I have no girl friend anywhere,” said Ben Loy, smiling, somewhat taken aback by the conversation. He walked over to the window and looked out. He had never beheld so much snow before. White flakes floated down upon the street, upon the roofs, upon the city, upon the whole landscape, like white-grained rice husks flying from the milling closet. Only this was on a grander scale. All white. Everything was white. The whole world was white.
“Look,” he said when he heard Chin Yuen coming toward the window. He pointed to the fast falling snow, which had a musical and rhythmic quality as it glided through the air.
“It’s snowing.” Chin Yuen quickly turned away from the window. “Haven’t you seen it snow before? What is there to see?”
The room was sparsely furnished. No sofa. No chair. When they sat, they sat on the bed. It was not necessary for the boss to furnish these rooms with any degree of luxury. It was a place to sleep, a dormitory. It was unusual for roommates to meet and talk in their room; their hours of work prevented it.
Chin Yuen had just come out of the bathroom and started to get dressed again when Ben Loy asked, “You going some place?” He had presumed his roommate was getting ready for bed.
“Yes. New York. Want to come along? It’s going to be a dead night in Stanton.” Chin Yuen’s mouth twisted into a knowing smile. “You’re only young once. Enjoy yourself while you can.”
Ben Loy thought for a moment. If he had been working as usual, the hours would have passed quickly. But this way, alone in his room, he would have only the four walls to talk to. If he went with Chin Yuen, no one would find out he had been in New York.
“Don’t mention this to Wing Sim,” said Ben Loy as he hurriedly changed, excited at the thought of going to New York at this hour.
“Don’t be afraid, you dead boy,” said Chin Yuen. “Nobody is going to tell your old man.”
In less than an hour, with Chin Yuen in charge, the two roommates arrived in New York. From Grand Central, they hailed a taxi to take them to the Hotel Lansing on Fiftieth Street. A small marquee extended over the entrance of the hotel.
As the two walked in, an elderly man with glasses was bending over the desk. He looked up, greeted the strangers and proceeded to register them for the night. “Room 709,” he announced to the bell boy, who had come up to the desk. Ben Loy and Chin Yuen followed the bell boy to the elevator and rode up to the seventh floor, where he opened the door to 709. Ben Loy and Chin Yuen looked about the room. One double bed and cream-colored walls. One wash basin in the corner near the window, but no toilet or bathroom. One small dresser. The bell boy went to the window and pulled the shade down. As he turned to leave, Chin Yuen walked over to him and said almost inaudibly, “You have a nice girl?”
The man, who was about fifty years old, in a blue and yellow uniform, knitted his brows, and there was a pained expression on his countenance. He looked sympathetic. Slowly he shook his head. “My friends, on a night like this, I don’t know.” His hand was on the door knob. He shrugged his shoulders. “They don’t come around on a night like this.”
Chin Yuen followed the man to the door. Ben Loy was pushing the mattress down with his hands, testing its springiness.
“You try, my friend,” implored Chin Yuen, pushing a dollar bill into his palm. “Young one, huh? Nice girl.”
The minutes ticked by slowly. The expected knock on the door did not come. Outside the snow continued to fall. The hotel room suddenly became a self-imposed prison instead of a one-night paradise. What could they do but wait? The watch stood still.
“If I had known it was going to be like this,” mumbled the disappointed Ben Loy, “I would have stayed in Stanton.”
“How should I know it was going to be like this?” said Chin Yuen, feeling a little guilty at having dragged his roommate to New York for nothing. “Maybe some girl will come up. It was never like this before.”
Midnight came and went. They stared at the four walls. Should they wait some more or try to get some sleep? In their state of frustration, sleep would not come easy. If they had only stayed in Stanton! They were like two foolish people entrapped on a bed of cactus, squirming to make themselves more comfortable. There was no heart for talk. What a strange situation! Two men waiting. A double bed. A wash basin. Outside the whole world was blanketed in snow. The whole world stood still. Waiting. Just waiting.
Finally, after what seemed like ten thousand banquets, there came a soft knock on the door. Chin Yuen jumped up. He rushed to the door.
“Do you want to see me?” A middle-aged redhead with a hard smile stood in the doorway.
“Come in. Come in,” invited Chin Yuen. Her perfume tickled his nostrils, “Only one?”
“How many do you want?” the woman giggled. She stepped into the room. “Any bathroom?”
“No,” replied Chin Yuen. “Outside in the hall.”
She walked to the dresser and took off her black coat, which had a fur collar around it, folded it in half and laid it across the top of the bureau.
“Well, I certainly can’t take care of the two of you at the same time,” she laughed; and her hands went up and touched her hair. She was wearing a thin white sweater over a green dress. She began wiggling out of her sweater. “One of you will have to go outside,” she said coyly.
“How much?” asked Chin Yuen, sales resistance lowered from watching the sweater come off.
“Ten dollars.”
“Too much money. Too much money.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Five dollars.”
Her lower lip pushed out and up so that it encompassed the upper lip. Her right hand flew out and reached for her sweater. All this time Ben Loy was debating whether he should go out and lock himself in the bathroom or let Chin Yuen go out first.
“Okay, ten dollars,” said Chin Yuen. “Okay, I was only kidding.”
The redhead smiled and put down the sweater again. “Now which one of you is going out?” Her eyes flashed from one customer to the other, indifferent to which one to take on first.
Neither answered her. The silence was embarrassing and awkward to the men, but not to the woman. She proceeded to take off her dress, revealing her white nylon slip. Momentarily the men’s attention focused on her disrobing.
Finally Chin Yuen spoke up, “Ben Loy, why don’t you go outside first? Maybe there’ll be another girl along soon.”
The girl pulled her slip up and over her head. She stood in her panties and brassiere. Silently Ben Loy walked out, taking with him a vivid image of the almost naked woman. Chin Yuen kept his eyes on the woman standing beside the bed. He saw her bend forward slightly. The panties slid off her white, well-formed thighs. The flesh-seller had neglected to take off her brassiere and Chin Yuen helped her remove it. Chin Yuen started to unbutton his shirt with hands that shook with nervous energy. In a moment he was completely naked and he hurried to possess her.
Ben Loy waited in the bathroom in a turmoil of excitement and apprehension.
Fifteen minutes later a subdued and weary Chin Yuen stumbled out of the room to call Ben Loy.
“Where’s