Peter Liu - Watering Heaven

“Not at all.”

“I don’t think you appreciate the situation. Each of these girls was an investment and you’ve cost me a shitload of money.”

Martin looked down, moved his feet back and forth.

“This motherfucker just doesn’t get it.”

The fat guy lifted a gun and pulled the trigger. The gunshot boomed louder than a firecracker and the blast was a hydraulic piston hammering Martin in the belly. It was both abrupt and drawn out, raucous and barely audible.

I gasped. Amber stiffened. Sweat froze along my chest. I thought of swapping stupid jokes with Martin, the time we nearly convinced two girls to sleep with us because we lied and said we were porn producers. I remembered him throwing up on strangers after getting wasted, the time I crashed his car on a snowy mountain and the way he laughed it off.

Amber shook me. I stared at her, helpless. She gestured for me to follow.

On the roof again, I took out my cell to try to dial 911. No reception.

Amber bit her lips. “Can you ever leave the past behind? Pimps, family — they think they own you. My mom and her boyfriend used to abuse me — they’d beat me till I was a bloody mess. I ran away when I turned 17. I didn’t hate her. I just wanted to forget her. But she kept on trying to find me. Have you ever been so disgusted by a memory, you just wanted it to disappear?”

I saw small fires across the city, dim lights blazing like pine cones.

“I changed my name, my job, my whole life so I could forget,” she said.

“It didn’t work?”

“No ones gives a shit about anyone but themselves.”

“My baby, he’ll have a different life from me,” she said. “And since he won’t have my sickness, I won’t let any harm come to him…”

But her resolve weakened. Her eyes were trembling. “If something did happen to me…” She hesitated. “Martin said I could trust you.”

I grimaced, nodding. “You can count on me.”

I felt a pang, shook my head, saw a flash of Martin’s body flailing backwards like a rubber doll. The ringing in my ears amplified like an avalanche.

“We have to get out of here and call the cops,” I said.

“Police never come out here,” she replied. “It’d take them days just to respond and Garnaut’ll bury his body by then.”

“I can’t just leave like this.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I have to try.”

When we went back down, Martin was a lone archipelago mired in a pool of blood. His face was wan and there were bluish-green patches along his neck.

“I gotta get him out of here,” I said to Amber. “Can you help?”

She lifted his other shoulder and we stumbled towards the parking lot, Martin dripping blood. People watched confusedly, trying to figure out what had happened, not sure if they should get involved. No one did. Families went back to their scraps; kids made toy wars out of garbage; some of the elderly made condemnatory remarks along the lines of, “That’s what you get for living an immoral lifestyle.”

By the time we put Martin in the backseat, he was nearly colorless. He rambled unconsciously and we did our best to calm him. He jumped up, eyes beady.

“We’re gonna get you to a hospital soon,” I said.

“My wallet, did you bring my wallet?” he demanded.

“Where’s your wallet?”

“With my stuff. I need my wallet.”

“I’ll get it later,” I told him.

“I need it now. I have to buy their freedom! Where are the girls?”

“They weren’t there when…”

“No! Shit no! I have to get them! I have to!”

“Where’s your wallet?” I asked.

“It’s under the counter, there’s a lock.” He told me the code.

“I’ll get it.”

I was about to sprint away when Amber stopped me.

“What?” I asked.

“There’s nothing in the wallet,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone stole his cards when he got here.”

“Does he know?”

“I don’t know… Just don’t go back in there.”

“I can help. I have savings. I…”

But she put her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t get more involved than you are. There’s no way out after you step in.”

“I don’t believe that,” I said, turned away and ran back in.

All families had their bizarre manifestations. I was no different and my principal hope was for the panacea of amnesia: never recollecting, never remembering. There was that fox in Chinese lore who spent his entire life committing acts of kindness. When he reached heaven, he was granted any wish he wanted. He asked to become rain, existing in a million drops before splattering away into oblivion.

When I got to the locker, it was just as Amber said: an empty, tattered wallet. I picked it up, laughed at the stupid irony of it. Which was when one of the hookers saw me and yelled, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Martin asked me to…”

But she had a knife in her hand…

Which brings us to the present: it’s 6 a.m., I’m inside an abandoned shopping mall, and a hooker’s chasing me with a kitchen knife.

I would love to tell you how I outran her or pulled some slick maneuver to ditch her in one of the stores. I would love to tell you my happy resolution, my reunion with Martin and how we rescued all the girls. Unfortunately, the hooker had some friends who tripped me up. I stumbled on the ground, scraped my elbows and knees. She grabbed Martin’s wallet, saw my own, tried to snatch it. There was a screaming sound, I turned and saw a knife coming towards me. I lifted my arms, wondering Is this the end? The blade plunged into my forearm and jammed on the bone. I cried out in pain, blood draining out. My first instinct was to close my eyes and curl up, but then Martin and his hookers flashed across my mind. I had to resist the pain, had to survive.

I forced myself to my feet, remembering something Amber said. My only hope was to sprint towards the mini-market. I ignored the knife in my arm, ignored the globules of blood spilling out. The meters seemed like miles and I suppressed wanting to know where the thieves were. Instead, I begged my ankles for egress, forced every muscle to contract until the soles of my feet felt like deadweights. I finally spotted bodyguards and raced straight for the market door, crashing through.

An old Asian man I took to be Mr. Lee demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?”

I collapsed to the floor. “Can I make a phone call?”

“Do you have money?”

I lifted up my wallet and waved some cash. Mr. Lee gestured affirmation towards the guards who pointed their guns outwards.

I was safe.

I bartered away everything I had for that phone call. It took the authorities two hours, but after imploring the operator, the medics arrived. They couldn’t save Martin. But they patched up my arm. “You’re lucky,” an EMT said. “Any longer, and we’d have had to amputate your arm.”

I looked at Martin’s corpse. I didn’t feel that lucky. But then I saw Amber and her womb.

“I’m going to name him Martin,” she said.

“What if it’s a girl?”

She seemed surprised, as though she hadn’t considered it. “Any suggestions?”

I shook my head, comforted by the thought that she had a choice. Then gave into my fatigue and watched the world fade to black.

BANGKOK, THAILAND — I was a bacterium spliced into a billion-celled organism called Habit. Habit died and reincarnated as Huo Yu. Huo Yu — A.K.A., me — was taking a vacation from Beijing in Thailand for the Chinese National Holiday. I’d just visited some ancient Thai temples built in traditional architecture filled from one end to the other with Buddhist sculptures. All the doorways had blocks at the base, designed so they’d trip up evil spirits who could only slide straight without being able to step over impediments. With every step I took, taxi drivers were trying to lure me in, promising ‘lifetime opportunities to cash in on precious gems,’ and amazing tourist packages to watch sex shows that would ‘revolutionize’ my life. I ignored them, wishing for blocks of my own to ward off all the distractions.