WITH ME
It was the first time she left the United States. 6 months prior her brother had passed away. He loved to travel and had been urging her to join him. Her own fear had kept her at home, now in a way to cope she would leave hoping to change her narrative. Her parents worried something might happen while she was away, but knowing they could do nothing but support her decision; they drove her to the airport. As they hugged goodbye her mother said "Don't forget to call".
"I know, I won't. Don’t worry." she said.
Her father nudged her mother in the arm. "Oh,.... your father bought you this." She reached into her purse, it was a small instant camera.
On October 15th 2015, with one duffel bag and a backpack she boarded the plane. She’d take a 3 hour flight to Canada, have a 12 hour layover and then fly for 13 hours to Hong Kong. Time was the cost of the cheap flight. She arrived at 12:30 am two days later. After de-boarding the plane she stopped briefly to take a photo of herself in the terminal shoving the picture in her blouse pocket and headed down to the cabs, where a line of translators ready to assist with transport stood at the curb. There was confusion about the hotel’s location resulting in a heated argument between the translator and cab driver which made her nervous. When they finally came to an agreement she was ever so gently shoved in the back of the cab by the translator. She rode in the back seat across the Zhuhai–Macau Bridge. Her hair whipping around in the warm hot air, watching the lights dance on the water and thought it was just like in the movies. They passed by the city lights and headed up a long poorly lit hill her hotel was perched on, a small detail she had purposefully sought out for to make the experience more memorable. The cab driver left and she headed inside.
She rung the bell sitting on the counter. A young man appeared from around the corner.
“Ah.. hello Miss are you staying here?”
“Yes!” she replied.
“Passport?” She handed it over to the young man.
“Miss, your stay is for tomorrow.”
She had overlooked that her 12:30 am arrival would have required booking the hotel for the previous day and not the day she had arrived.
“Sorry Miss no more rooms.”
She asked If she could stay there till another accommodation could be found, knowing her phone could only be used using wifi. But their lack of shared language resulted in a puzzled look and silence. She started begging to stay in the lobby but only received a “Please, come back, 4pm”.
The last response from the young man prompted a small elderly man with a lantern to appear. The receptionist leaned into the small man’s ear before he motioned her to follow. They walked out of the hotel and onto a balcony overlooking the hillside. The receptionist pointed to a small golden arches in the distance “McDonald’s, you’ll go now.” She was lightly shoved yet again but now out of the hotel and into the hot summer night. The small man led the way, as they descended the 9 flights of stairs that hugged the hillside. When they approached the final gate he pointed to where the golden arches stood, now out of sight hidden behind the tall buildings. Then he handed her the lantern momentarily and made an x with his arms saying “gōngyuán”. She shook her head yes, but she didn’t understand his instruction.
She was overheated, she smelled of sweat and travel. The 40 pound luggage was now a reminder of what felt like the worst mistake of her life. She wandered for 2 hours looking for the golden arches but the dense buildings had gotten her lost. It was then that she found herself crossing a park. A park she never would have gone into alone this late at night had she been home. But, her desperation and exhaustion had gotten the best of her. Exhausted from carrying the luggage she sat at one of the park benches just for a moment to rest. Her eyes closed, waking up hours later with the hot sun beating down on her. Still lost she approached every person she crossed only to be ignored; she assumed due to her ignorance in their native language. An hour had passed when she found another McDonald’s. Sitting down in the corner, trying to hide so she wouldn’t have to spend her small budget. She charged her phone and used the free wifi to download the city map when she noticed me watching her from the corner of the establishment. I had already been following her for the last hour but she hadn’t noticed me yet, so I was a bit startled when she did. She packed up her stuff quickly and headed to the hotel.
When she arrived there was a sign stating the receptionist had an emergency. That she would have to check herself in at the kiosk and retrieve the key to the room. She slept the rest of the evening and night away. I waited outside but I believe she was too traumatized by the entire situation because she didn’t emerge till it was check-out time. I stood in the shadow watching as she chucked the keys in the check-out box and headed to the hostel she would be finishing the trip at.
She passed by the same park I had first seen her in. I must have frightened her this time because when she saw me on the park bench sitting where she had found herself that sunny afternoon; she ran the other direction only stopping for the red crosswalk signal. Turning to look back to see where I was, she saw the sign posted on the pole next to her. The sign had the picture she had taken in the terminal the night she had landed and below it a headline: Do you know me? followed by a translation in Chinese characters, a phone number and an address. A wave of anxiety rolled over her body like a tidal wave, unsure of what to make of the sign. She took a photo and headed in the direction of the hostel. A block before she arrived at her accommodation she found a phone booth and dialed the number from the flyer.
A woman answered “Wei ”.
“Wei, Ni Hao, umm..
“Wei?” Click*** The woman hung up.
Unsettled by the odd flyer, she redirected and headed to the address noted. It was a hospital. She walked into the front room, when the receptionist stood up walking away down the hall with a stack of folders. She followed her hoping to show the receptionist the poster on the phone to get the mistake resolved, but as she passed the fourth door she saw herself lying in the bed. I sat in the corner watching as she approached herself. Her head was wrapped with gauze, her eyes black and puffy from the swelling and a breathing tube down her throat. I stood up and walked towards her stopping at her side to wrap my arm around her. My touch unwrapped the memory she had tucked away. She hadn’t fallen asleep on the bench in the park that night. She had sat on the bench for a moment when two men approached from behind. One hitting her in the back of the head, the other scooping up her duffel and backpack. Leaving her without any ID and in a coma. Only the photo she had taken in the terminal still in her blouse pocket.
It had been 3 months in the hospital room before she finally made eye contact with me. She had stood by her bodies side; hoping she could change things, hoping her family would walk in. “I never got to do anything...., I just wanted to be somebody. I thought; maybe I’d get a second chance at least to see my family but I don’t think I am.” she said looking at me for some resolve in her heartache. I had seen that look once before by her brother.
(Illustrated by Felicia Cantu)
I looked at her from across the room; wishing I could at the very least have her family see her one last time. But it wasn't my place. I stood up and walked to her, she turned looking up at me.
I put my hands on her shoulders... “You know, every millisecond of your existence in this world is immeasurably significant. Even when you pass, the reverberations of your existence means something to someone, somewhere. Your essence stretches in every direction of time. You see; I'm a bit different than you. I can see all of time, at the same time. I'm everywhere at all times. Right now, I see you being born as you lay here dying and I'm with you now while I'm with the man dying next door.” I said.
“So even though I’m about to die, I’m still alive somewhere with my family?” she asked.
“In my reality yes, in your reality only as a memory. However, even a memory is quite substantial for the one who holds it.”
Her head tilted back as far as it would allow. She looked up at me crossing her arms, saddened by the necessary decision. A single tear rolling down her cheek. “Alright, lets go ”she said.
Humans are quite exquisite. Their lives weave a variety of tales throughout their short lifetimes. It’s quite fascinating to rewatch the choices made by every individual human in an attempt to write chapters they are pleased with. All the while knowing that every book in history ends....... with me.