.
a mother and a home to go back to. But my little Jinjin didn’t, and possibly never would.
“So the baby’s not injured?”
“No, you’re both fine. Only some abrasions.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“Dr. Li is your attending, he’s decided to keep you longer in case you have a concussion. He also needs to contact your relatives or friends to come pay and take you home. I’ll tell Dr. Li that you’re awake.”
Before I could stop her, she went on. “Miss, you’re lucky to have Dr. Li. He fended off many of your admirers and reporters for you.”
“What admirers?”
She laughed. “Oh, you don’t know? You’ve become a heroine! The mother wanted to see you and thank you, but we stopped her.”
My heart started to pound. That was exactly what I didn’t want! I had not done a good deed to get myself discovered and killed!
Oblivious to my fear and bitterness, the nurse left the room and returned with a pen and a printed form, then handed them to me.
”So far the hospital has no information about you, not even your name. So you need to fill in this form.”
Damn. Another thing I didn’t want in life. So I quickly said, “Miss nurse, I need to use the restroom real bad now. Can I fill out this form when I’m back?”
“Okay. I’ll come back for it in a few minutes—please fill it out soon.”
Right after she left, I sprang up and changed back to my own clothes, gritting my teeth at the pain in my shoulders. Then I grabbed my purse and slipped out of the room.
Luckily, rickshaws were waiting in front of the hospital, so I climbed into the closest one, endured the bumpy ride to the Star Ferry, and was soon home. I was asleep as soon as I lay on my bed. Later, when I woke up, still very stiff, I went out to get food and the evening newspapers.
Back in the temporary safety of my dusty but anonymous apartment in the crowded Wanchai district, I flipped the pages of the Singtao Daily News until my eyes landed on a headline in the local section:
Mystery Woman Saves a Plunging Child’s Life
This afternoon in Diamond Hill, a toddler opened the window to look for his mother and fell almost to his death. Miraculously, a young woman dashed through the crowd and caught the baby. Both were rushed to Kwong Wah Hospital. It was a miracle that neither had serious injuries, only scratches and bruises.
Onlookers said the young woman used her body as a cushion to ease his fall.
The boy’s mother had been out shopping and had left him alone. When she returned, police informed her of what had happened and warned her that they would press charges for child neglect.
As for the baby’s rescuer, she disappeared mysteriously from the hospital without leaving any information about herself or paying her bill.
People are curious to know who this bodhisattva is and why did she disappear. The mother of the toddler asked us to find her boy’s rescuer so she could personally thank her and reward her with a gift.
According to the onlookers, the young woman was in her early twenties and dressed like a student.
Anyone with information about her whereabouts should call our newspaper.
Young lady, if you are reading this article now, please come forward so we can better know your brave face and loving heart.
I almost chuckled at the last two words. I might have a heart, but it’d been anything but loving. Then I sighed. When I’d been the Heavenly Songbird Camilla in Shanghai, publicity was all I sought. But now I had to avoid it like a mouse a cat, or a pickpocket the police.
That night, my baby, Jinjin, came to my dream. But one thing disturbed me—he’d not been growing.
I asked, “Jinjin, how come you don’t grow but stay the same as the first time you visited me?”
“Because I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because my mother abandoned me. She’s famous for being cruel and scheming. I tell you, Mama, people can survive without food, but not without love.”
“Who told you this?”
“My baba, who else?”
“You met him?”
He nodded, each thread of his lustrous, silky hair tugging at my heart.
“Sometimes I’ll sneak out from my crib and crawl to where he sits. Baba has aged a lot because he’s very lonely and he misses you. I never talk to him because he doesn’t even know that I exist. So I can only watch and listen, but I heard him say this to himself.”
Before I could respond, he went on. “Mama, though most of the time I think he is my father, other times I’m not so sure.”
“How’s that?”
He answered in a mocking tone. “Oh, you forget? You had others besides my baba, remember?”
His saying this hurt so much that I was speechless.
“But, Jinjin, I love you very much! In fact, you’re the one who’s taught me to love.”
He didn’t respond to my declaration of love, but continued in his childish voice. “In a few months I’ll turn one year old, but sadly I’ll have to spend my birthday all by myself.”
“But I can celebrate with you!”
His expression turned sad. “How? I can’t always come to your dreams and I won’t let you in mine.”
“But, Jinjin, why can’t you let me into your dreams?”
“Because I can’t. I am no more than a dream myself. I am not real, Mama.”
“No, Jinjin! You are a living being, my son! What makes you think you’re not real?”
“Mama, I’m confused. When you gave birth to me, I heard someone say that I’m dead, a stillborn, what does that mean?”
“But you’re not.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Because here you are in my dream and my life.”
Just then I woke up, wetting my pillows with tears flowing like the Huangpu River.
I wanted my real Jinjin in my arms—not merely in a dream.
I had to go back to Shanghai to find him. Even if I’d get killed trying, so be it.
But making unexpected, risky moves in a seemingly hopeless situation was part of my training as a spy. Besides looking for my baby, I also needed to find out what was left of the two rival gangs after the shoot-out. Was the Flying Dragons’ Master Lung really dead at last—or just nursing his wound somewhere, awaiting his comeback? Had my boss, the Red Demons’ Big Brother Wang, finally been able to take over Lung’s place to be Shanghai’s number one gangster head?
The next few days, I shopped, packed, and booked a steamship ticket for Shanghai. Then, because I had no choice, I went to a hairdresser and had my waist-length hair cut off, replaced with a bob and thick bangs. I consoled myself thinking it made me look playful and even younger than my twenty years. I needed to look as different as possible from my days singing at Shanghai’s Bright Moon Nightclub, when I wore my hair permed to be as wavy as the ripples on the Huangpu River and swept to one side. Since arriving in Hong Kong, I had stopped putting on makeup and dressed mostly in a white blouse and dark skirt so I could pass as a university student, or a salesgirl.
I was scared to be going back to Shanghai, but also energized to be back in action at last. After all, I’d been raised to be a spy, not to mope around doing nothing.