My Asian Dragon

“You worried?” Billy asked back. In the background Joy could hear traffic sounds, he must have been driving.

“I don’t think so,” Joy said. “The message is a few days old, and seems to be more of a warning to stop my investigating more than a direct threat on me. Since that’s happening anyways, I don’t think there’s a problem.”

“All right. Still, if you like, I can be ready to leave town tonight.”

Joy shook her head, even though she was on the phone. “No, I think it’s all okay. There’s supposed to be nothing new coming out with my byline, and if I drop off the scene, they’ll leave me alone.”

“Okay. So what’s your plan for this afternoon?”

“I’m going shopping, actually. There are some things I want to take back to the village with me, and since I’m leaving all the furniture behind, your van will have plenty of space.”

“Great. Hey, I talked to the medical supply guy I know, and he said he’ll be able to get you some medicine for that girl’s hand. He even got most of it for free. Technically you’re getting a lot of samples. Most of the rest he’s writing off on the company’s charity budget. You’re only going to need about thirty dollars for the rest.”

“Wow. You’re a miracle worker, you know that Billy?”

“Not me, Joy. I just work for the miracle worker, remember?”

Joy chuckled. Even though she didn’t have Billy’s evangelical faith, she could appreciate his goodness anyway. “Okay, Billy. I’ll see you in three days, with the cash you need for the stuff you got.”

Joy left the office after exchanging goodbyes with the reporters on duty. It wasn’t all that painful, she hadn’t really liked any of them, and made her way to go shopping. In addition to more durable clothing for herself, she still had to find some DVDs for the children, and she had a few other ideas in mind, including a mini-solar panel charger so she could trickle charge her own computer and cell phone if need be.

As Joy walked, she started to get a weird feeling. Looking around, nothing seemed out of place, but as the feeling persisted, she noticed there were two men who seemed to be following her. They were relatively nondescript, but both were consistently ten meters behind her. When Joy stopped to look in a window, they would stop. When she moved on, they moved on as well.

Joy considered darting into a police station or turning back, but knew either one was useless. The police would do nothing without a direct threat, and even then may have been on the take. By keeping herself in public as much as possible, she minimized the chances of something happening.

Still, knowing the men were following her took a lot of the pleasure out of her shopping expedition, and she took care of things in a utilitarian fashion. In addition to more trousers and underclothes, she bought two pairs of work boots, and a pair of galoshes. In a supermarket, she bought dried goods in addition to coconut oil (one of the few natural ingredients she could find to treat her hair. Chinese ideas of hair care did not mesh with black hair that was for sure). Her final stop was the music store, where she relaxed and found plenty of DVDs for both the school and for Longwei. Departing the store with her bags, she saw the two men, who were waiting outside at a food stall, and she shrugged. As long as they were just keeping her under observation, she could deal with it.

Billy helped her pack her last things into the van. She carried all of her money in cash, a wad of bills that she would have felt uncomfortable with in her childhood neighborhood. Even in Shanghai, it made her nervous. Billy lifted the last sack of rice into the back of his van, and closed the back gate. “All right, that’s everything. Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Joy said, looking around nervously. “But let’s get going, okay? Having those guys tail me and then to be standing here with all my cash is kind of freaking me out.”

As they pulled away, neither Joy nor Billy noticed the man on the cell phone across the street. He nodded a few times, speaking in rapid Chinese. “Yes, they just left,” he said into his phone. “She’s with that missionary. No, I couldn’t hear anything, but from what she loaded into the van, I think she is leaving town.”

The man nodded a few more times to the sound of his phone, before a smile spread over his features. “Of course. Getting into the apartment will be easy. I will check it out now.”

Ten minutes later, the man closed the door on Joy’s apartment, slipping the lock picks back inside his pants pocket. A quick glance revealed that she was definitely leaving, the place had the antiseptic look of a moved out room. The sheets were stripped off the bed, the shelves were empty, even the television and other appliances were unplugged. The man looked around, seeing if he could find any clues about where she was going.

A search of the living room revealed nothing. Joy, if anything, was a fastidious cleaner. The bathroom and bedroom area also were scrubbed relatively clean. Finally, in the kitchen, next to the refrigerator, he thought he found something. A notepad, the type that people used to write down quick messages on the phone or shopping lists. When he picked it up to the light, he could see that it had been used recently, the paper on top still bore the imprints of writing.

Curious to try something he had once seen in a movie, the man took a pencil and knife out of his pocket. He shaved off graphite dust and carefully scattered it over the paper. It took him a few minutes of tapping and work, but he could see English letters start to form over the page. Thankfully, this was why his boss had put him on the job of following the American journalist, his English was better than many of the other Triads.

“Gauze…. rubbing alcohol….. DVD for Longwei…..” the man read, the last part catching his attention. He called his boss on his phone, shifting back into Chinese. “Sir? Yeah, it’s me. Listen, she’s got a name on here, one you told me to keep my eyes out for. I found a shopping list, and the name Longwei appears on here. Yeah? Okay, I’ll bring the paper. Heading back now.”

The man scooped up the pad of paper and left the apartment. Whoever this Longwei person was that the American was apparently mixed up with, sort of saddened the man. He had been tasked with watching the American since the first of her articles had come out, and had come to appreciate the uniqueness of her beauty in a city of Chinese. More than once he had watched her through binoculars at night in her apartment, clad in nothing but light pajamas. Yet, if the boss’ tone was correct, he wouldn’t be able to see the chocolate skinned beauty again.

She soon would be dead.