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

“But we have no appointment,” I note.

“We hunt him down!” Jade says.

Larry and I exchange a wary look, the first eyeball contact we’ve had in a week. Why hadn’t we thought of that?

“By the way, Dan, you don’t have to worry about my conduct,” he says as Jade and I help him put on his Sunday best. “I’ve mastered a blend just for situations like these-a unique mix of obsequiousness and assertiveness that I think you’ll appreciate.”

“Better to err on the side of shutting up,” I caution him. Sorry if that came out unkindly, but I’ve just come off a dark week, and with so much at stake in this meeting, we can’t afford to have anyone rock the boat.

“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” he replies good-naturedly. “It’s doubtful you’ll hear peep one from me.”

I’m not letting him off the hook. “Whatever you do,” I say, ducking into the bathroom to prepare, “just don’t pitch him any inventions.”

“Scout’s honor,” Larry says. He flashes me a smile meant to be charming.

On the fourth floor, Jade and I support a formally clad Larry by either elbow as we find a wall directory behind glass. Jade runs her finger down a list of Chinese names, and we travel through a maze of corridors until we locate the corresponding office number. The light under his door indicates that Dr. X is in. Larry stops me from knocking so he can push three mini Dove chocolates into his mouth. “Energy,” he explains.

“You sure you’re okay to do this?” I ask.

“Give me thirty seconds,” he says, pushing in three more. Finally: “Let’s do it.”

Just as I’m about to knock, though, another delay. Larry is looking at me as though a turkey just flew out of my nose.

“You took your earring out,” he says.

“You noticed.”

“I do have my ‘on’ days, Dan.”

“And let me tell you I never take out my earring for anyone,” I admit. “Not to interview heads of state, not to speak to a convention of shrinks, never. But just this once, I want to make sure there are no glitches.”

“I appreciate it,” Larry says. “This is a very straight individual we’re dealing with.”

Does Larry also notice that I’ve gargled with Listerine and scrubbed my nails? I haven’t taken this many precautions since the reunion with the kidnap cabbie. But after all, what if Dr. X receives a phone call from a certain medical colleague at Harvard-who doesn’t realize how he’s cooking his own goose-and deems it inadvisable to proceed? I need all the credibility I can get.

Larry and I both take a deep breath. Only Jade is completely composed, a blank slate.

We knock.

And are admitted into a plush office. Two walls are lined with ceramic eagles and parrots. In between the sculptures are expensive unopened bottles of imported scotch-more showpieces. The rest of the walls are taken up with photos of Dr. X smiling suavely with various sheiks and international CEOs. But in person Dr. X doesn’t smile as suavely. In fact, he doesn’t smile at all. He looks like a stern older brother of the pleasant man in the photos.

“Your country give us many problems,” Dr. X begins after ushering us to our seats.

I gulp.

“So many bad words, rumors about what we doing. They call us murderer! Say we kill students for kidneys! Members of Falun Gong outlaw sect. We never kill these person. Only murderer-criminals who deserve be killed!”

This is not going well. I look at Jade but get nothing back. Do I see a chastened look on Larry’s face? But he’s impossible to read as well. There are plastic potted plants in all four corners of the room, looking rather proud of being plastic. A slight smell of toilet lingers in the air.

“ China is not so bad,” Dr. X continues in a scolding tone. “I am not a member of the Party, but I believe that for Chinese our system is the best. Not absolute freedom like you have, but little by little. We have over two-thousand-year history. Give China time. Maybe fifty, one hundred years we be like you. But not now. You want us implode like Soviet Union? No, slowly, slowly is the ticket, also quietly, quietly.” He takes off his orange-tinted Bono glasses and tosses them on his desk.” You understand?”

I understand. I cannot tell whether Larry understands. As for Jade-I’ve never seen her so unreadable. Her eyes trap the light to reveal zero.

“And don’t take picture of me with cell-phone camera when you pretend you text-messaging! No tricks like those, I not born yesterday…”

“No, certainly not,” I say.

“Last year simple,” Dr. X continues, putting his glasses back on. “I do more than hundred and fifty kidneys, important people all over world. When I do them, they become lifelong friends. They help me. One hand wash other. You understand?”

In case I didn’t, there’s a photo of Dr. X shaking hands and exchanging toothy grins with a famous sixties American radical I almost recognize. I can’t quite remember: What did the radical do to get on Nixon’s enemy list? And where’ve I seen those ceramic parrots before?

“This year very difficult. That is why number-one importance is silence. I do not tell government I work on Westerner. I perform in secret. If government know I need kidney for Westerner, they take knife to my program, shut down hospital. So number one is silence. You must protect my program.”

“I will tell the truth,” I say.

This is a tactical error for which I’m immediately taken to task.

“No truth, no lies. Just silence. Otherwise I not able to get permit to help foreigners, not just your cousin, everyone.”

“No, of course not, I understand.”

“Only silence…”

As though in response, the room falls into a hush. Just as the doctor ordered. I can make out the ticking from an antique grandfather clock in the corner, doubtless the gift of a grateful tycoon somewhere. Tick-tick…tock…

Am I not dressed properly? It’s well and good that I took out my earring, but the rest of my business attire is hardly up to snuff. Untucked shirt, goatee that hasn’t been groomed since I arrived in China, hat that isn’t quite as white as it was before encountering this air… No wonder Dr. X is directing all his comments to Larry and his Albanian threads. Every time the doctor is forced to swing his head in my direction, he keeps his eyes closed. At least we’re both two-fisted in the fake-power-prop department…

Tick-tick…tock…

There’s a sound to my left, a bullfrog warming up, tones so low I almost don’t recognize them for a minute. Then I realize they’re emanating from Larry’s throat.

“I couldn’t help noticing there’s no security on your office door,” he says.

“Why need security?” Dr. X says irritably. “We have guards at front door, many guards strolling grounds-”

“Why is because anyone already inside the hospital can access your sanctum with impunity,” Larry informs him expressionlessly. “What you need…”

To my horror, Larry regales Dr. X with a description of his “mock security system,” an ornate wall plate studded with plastic buttons: black, yellow, red. “But no wires, no fuse, no circuitry,” Larry informs him. “Besides being a plain wall plate, ninety-nine cents at most hardware stores, with about sixteen cents of added decoration, it’s nuffing.”

Dr. X contemplates the notion for a long minute. “It’s nuffing?” he echoes.

“That’s the beauty part,” Larry says. “It doesn’t send out a silent alarm to notify the police. Doesn’t set off a siren to scare the neighbors. It does nuffing but let the perp imagine the worst.”

I shoot Larry a warning look meant to signify, What happened to Scout’shonor? He shoots one back that signifies, What do Scouts know about building rapport?…and resumes maintaining his deadpan gaze.