Daniel Rose - Larry's Kidney, Being the True Story of How I Found Myself in China

Dear Safrina, First of all I want to apologize for the way I left you waiting at the Singapore airport last time. I know it’s nine teen years ago, but I’m trying to make amends for my youth. What can I say? I loved you, but you had too many boyfriends for me to handle. I had to break your heart before you broke mine. Anyway, I find myself in your neck of the woods again and wonder if you might have access to any working kidneys on any of the islands…

Dear Achara, I’m sure it comes as something of a shock to hear from me again, two decades after our painful falling-out, but I’m writing to ask an unlikely favor. I remember you telling me that your aunt was the queen of Thailand. With the vast con nections that must be available to your family, do you know anywhere in Bangkok I could possibly get my hands on…

Corazón! It’s way past time that we bury the hatchet. Why point fingers? There was enough blame to go around. I’m not mad anymore and hope you’re not either, because I have a dire favor to ask. Manila has become quite the sophisticated medical center this last decade and…

Then, speaking of the devil, just after I’ve pinged this off, Manila pings me back. Not Corazón or any of my other old Asian flames, but a beachside motel where I earlier made tentative arrangements if our week in Beijing didn’t pan out.

To whom Sir and Madam

We look forward where you stay. At your request we have book two ooms. However we are in perplex about you request for rooms on separate floors for ‘breathing room’ purpose. Is pity Sir you request or two floors can not be honored because we are single floor operation. However we can place each room far from the brother room, if suitable, on other side of Relaxation Yard which is covered by green plants to make guests feel cleansing and comfortable…

Score! I snag this despite its vaguely prisonlike sound. It’s only a contingency anyway. Hopefully, we won’t need Manila if China somehow comes through.

One more outgoing e-mail before I get to my in-box: A warm thank-you to Happy-Go-Luck Travel, telling them I won’t be needing Yuh-vonne’s services any longer and directing them to give her a large tip in farewell. It’s in honor of the little teeth prints on her lips, may she be happy every day. But, oh dear: Is Larry’s generosity rubbing off on me?

No, it’s his pragmatism. I’m purchasing Yuh-vonne’s continued silence. The last thing we need is for her to blow the whistle on us.

Nibbling the plunder I pocketed from breakfast, a croissant I’m happy to confirm does not have a 4-H blue ribbon clipped to it, I move on to my incoming. The first is from the Disapproving Docs:

“Dan, we must once again state in the strongest possible terms that we find your actions reckless in the extreme. The very idea of scavenging for a life-saving surgery would almost be laughable if it weren’t so naïve. There are simply so many unknowns here that we demand you clear all contacts with us before proceeding. You have lined up rock solid contacts, we assume?”

Oh, rock solid, never fear. Into the recycle bin it goes. I open another e-mail from my one and only contact, the embassy friend of the friend I e-mailed before I left home. Izzy is gone all week, it turns out, but wants to know if we can meet on Friday evening when he gets back. I check my calendar. That would be cutting it close, because it’s only two days before our backup flight to Manila. Izzy suggests we meet at his synagogue, some sort of makeshift temple for expat Western Jews apparently, in a space graciously donated by a foreign-language institute. It sounds sufficiently Somerset Maugham-ish to spark my interest, and I tell him yes.

And now the reward for all my hard work: an e-mail from home. Even tapping the name of my youngest stings my heart with yearning.

Dad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MS. BOULDRY MYNEW TEACHER IS

AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These are some words to describe her:

funny, creative, smart, childish, helpful, caring, weird,

CHATTER-BOX!!!!!!!!!!! and gets disracted really easy!

dad i love you sincerely,

Jeremy Roth-Rose

P.S. I think Flight attendants wear to much lipstick, Dont you?

Okay, that’s it. I need a blast of family heat. It’s 9:00 A.M. here, 9:00 P.M. there on a school night, but they might still be up. I dial.

The incomparable wife: “How’s it going, hon?”

Her unworthy husband: “Compared to being on a chairlift with two preadolescents? It’s a cinch,” I say.

“You staying safe? Boys, try to keep it down when I’m talking to Dad in China -”

“DAD IN CHINA!?” There’s the sound of the phone being grabbed, fumbled, moved to the fifty-yard line, intercepted. Touchdown! I manage to ram in the earplugs I’ve arranged at the ready just in time.

“How’s it goin’, Pop? You’re not getting arrested or anything?”

“Going okay, Spence.”

“Not getting gunned down by Laurence?” he says with a mock French accent. Our little motif, for some reason.

“Laurence keeps missing me so far. What’s going on with you?”

“Won a tennis trophy. Wrote a cool poem. I’m well rounded.”

“Amazing,” I say. “You astound and delight me, big boy.”

“Yeah, so I’m feeding the ducks like you asked, and everything’s fine, except Mom keeps fast-forwarding the movies through the sex parts just because Jeremy’s too young.”

“AND I ALREADY KNOW WHAT SEX IS!” adds his exuberant little brother in the background. A statement Spencer cannot let pass unchallenged.

“Okay, Jeremy, what is it?”

“Guys, guys, have a sense of the moment,” I say, “this is a phone call from around the globe.”

“Well, Mom’s saying it’s Jeremy’s turn. See ya, Dad.”

“DAD, HI, I CAME UP WITH SOME INVENTIONS JUST LIKE YOUR COUSIN. READY? BEER POPSICLES!”

“Not bad, Jeremy, I could see that catching-”

“OH, AND HOW ABOUT THIS ONE: CHEESE DOUGHNUTS! SO NEXT TIME, DAD, COULD YOU TAKE ME TO CHINA WITH YOU, BECAUSE I HAVE LOTS OF IDEAS, AND MAYBE I COULD HELP SAVE YOUR COUSIN, TOO!”

“That’s a really nice offer, Jeremy, but I don’t think-”

“BUT, DAD, YOUR COUSIN’S NOT REALLY GOING TO DIE, IS HE, DAD? YOU WON’T LET THAT HAPPEN, WILL YOU, DAD?”

“Well, I’m doing my best to-”

“OH, AND, DAD, GUESS WHAT’S THE BEST SOUND IN THE WORLD? THE SOUND OF TEETH CRUNCHING INTO A BAGEL! EVER HEAR THAT, DAD? IT’S SO DELICIOUS-SOUNDING! READY, HERE IT IS…”

And then, from halfway around the world, I hear it, clear as a bell, the delicate sound of my son’s front teeth breaking the crust of a toasted bagel. And he’s right, it is delicious-sounding. It’s blessed-sounding. But his quiet, sensual side doesn’t fool me for a minute.

“Good night, hon. And, Jeremy, guess what? I figured out what you’re gonna be when you grow up.”

“WHAT?”

“A wealthy Korean businessman.”

Man’s schemes are inferior to those made by heaven.

Pine. The minty smell of pine needles…

Next afternoon I go back to the discount hotel and find Larry on a chaise in the courtyard, catching some rays. The pleasant scent of piney goodness perfumes the air. In the milky light, Larry’s skin looks like drapery that’s been stored in the back of a closet for years. He’s wearing what looks like a Depression-era bathing suit and his box turtle sunglasses while Mary is giving him a foot rub. I can only imagine the coaxing it’s taken from her to get him to take off his Businessman’s Running Shoes, but now she’s knuckling the tender veal of his insteps while Larry half snores with contentment despite the Peking Opera playing on the portable TV in front of them.