A Milford Mystery

Emma Thompson sat in front of her Acer netbook, fingers poised over the tiny keyboard. The first thing she needed to work on was a better pen name. She was pretty sure stealing her favorite movie star’s identity was somehow tied in with plagiarism.

Her finger drummed the letter d. D’s spread across the screen in front of her. If she couldn’t even come up with a name, how was she going to start this story? She huffed a sigh of frustration, scrunched up her brow and pushed the glasses back up her short, rounded nose.

Writing this short story was like a test. She felt locked into her life, as if all her choices had been used up. She got to choose her college. Then she got to choose her major. Both decisions had proven to be not so good. A tiny southern Bible college where she majored in music performance. Not music education-- that might actually have been useful. She chose to marry a nice preacher and have three children. She chose to stay home with them, mainly because she couldn’t get an amazing career with her degree. (But also because she realized their childhoods were all too short and she did not want to miss a minute of it). Being a stay-at-home mom had proven far more rewarding than she planned. But still. If she could write this story, a world of possibilities could open for her.

"Write what you know!" is the advice all the writing books gave. Shannon felt this was good advice. But, while she had grown up in Southeast Asia and had travelled extensively, nothing truly exciting had ever happened to her. No dead bodies had ever turned up in any basements. No treasures in the attics, no hijackings on the airplanes. For pete’s sake, you’d think something would have happened if you’d gone around the world ten times! In the midst of this thought, the doorbell rang.

Shannon’s eyes widened as her heart rate increased. It was ten o’clock at night, the kids were in bed and her husband was gone on an all-night teen activity.

"Lord, I take it back", she prayed. "I really don’t need excitement in my life".

She stood up from the dining table and tip-toed into the darkened living room. Her heart was thudding hard enough to bust through her chest. Through the upper windows of the front door, she could see the shadow of a head. It’s shadow weaved and apparently ducked. She heard a "thwuuut" sound and saw something slide beneath the door. A bomb! No wait. Bombs can’t fit into envelopes, can they?

This was a red envelope; Shannon could tell that even in the dark. Should she pick it up? She should leave it and call the police? While she was hesitating, she heard footsteps going down the porch and crunching on the pebble walkway. She peeked out through the mini-blinds on the front window and saw a car pull away from the curb.

Shannon flipped on the living room light, then the hall light and the kitchen light. She moved slowly toward the envelope. It looked oriental, with gold designs in the corner. She picked it up gingerly. Why, it was just an advertisement! There were pictures of Chinese dishes splashed across the back. And something, it looked like hand-written Sharpie ink, on the seal. She looked closer; it was a Chinese character. In fact, the only one she knew. Da koh-- big mouth. But why was it hand-written? And why hand-deliver junk mail late at night? This was too weird.

Shannon turned the envelope over and looked carefully. She was nervous about opening it. Finally, she ripped the edge. Inside were coupons. Coupons! For heaven’s sake! Thirty percent off the buffet every week night. That was quite a bargain. With a single-income family and three kids, Shannon was always looking for a bargain. She loved coupons. Maybe she should ask Mark if they could go on Thursday night...

Wait! There was a mystery here, staring her right in the face and she’s excited about not having to cook. Yeah, something was really wrong with her.

It’s funny that someone wrote big mouth on it. Now why would they do that? Because you have to have a big mouth to eat a lot at a buffet? It brought her back to her childhood in Singapore. Her best friend Jia En taught her the word so that Shannon could harass her little brother. It became a standing joke with them. Jia En thought it was funny that this was the only Chinese word Shannon was interested in learning. Shannon thought it was funny to be able to verbally abuse her brother in other languages. Soon, it became their secret password.

On the tail of that thought, another idea entered her mind. Could this have something to do with Jia En? Was it a message? But that was ridiculous. Jia En lived with her aunt and uncle who worked in a hawker stall. They were strapped financially and, although it had been Jia En’s dream to get an American college education, it just wasn’t possible. Her future as a hawker was pretty much mapped out for her. There was no way she could be here in Milford.

Unless...

Shannon rushed back to her netbook. She pulled out a chair and connected to the internet. She pulled up her email account and back-tracked to an email that her mom had sent several months ago. Mom wrote about how a Chinese restaurant brought workers into America as sort-of indentured servants. They paid for airfare, room and board in return for five to ten years of service in the restaurant. Her mother said the room and board included day-old leftovers from the buffet and sardine-style bunk beds. The restraunt owners pretty much owned the Chinese employees until the debt was paid off. Seemed like something from a hundred years ago. It was hard to believe such things still took place right here in America. Could it be that Jia En had been so desperate to get to America that she joined a company like that? Surely not.

Shannon shut down the computer and padded down the hallway. She peeked into her daughter’s room and then the room both her boys shared. She was glad the doorbell hadn’t bothered them. Then she went to her own bedroom. No way would she be able to sleep tonight. The whole red envelope thing had her freaked out. So she picked up her pillow and headed to the couch. After pulling the chenille throw over herself, she turned on the tv. A little House Hunters should help her relax. The last thought in her mind as she drifted off was what if Jia En really were here in town?

******************************************************************************************************

"What’s up, Shannon?" Mark raised one black eyebrow. "You HATE American Chinese food. And it’s Saturday. Those coupons are only good for a weeknight".

"I don’t necessarily HATE it, Mark," Shannon tried to sound convincing. "You know how sometimes I just really get a craving for Asian dishes".

Mark did not look convinced. " ‘Chinese food is as different from Singapore food as dish water to a Starbucks Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate’, unquote".

"Oh, so you DO listen." She pretended surprise. " Ok, so I don’t like it. But I know you love it, and I love you! So I want you to have it".

"So why not just wait until Monday night and use the coupon?" Mark grinned, knowing he had her cornered. Her love of coupons was legendary.

Shannon huffed and dropped to the couch. "Fine, I’ll tell you" she replied. "But you’re
going to think I’m crazy, you’re going to say I’m over-reacting, building things up in my head..."

"So what else is new?" Mark smirked, dropping down beside her.

Shannon related the details of the late-night advertising campaign. She was surprised at his thoughtful look. The fact that he didn’t immediately reprove her made her a bit nervous. She had kind of hoped she was reading more into the situation than was there.

"From what you’ve told me about Jia En, and the fact that this was shoved under our door so late, does seem a little fishy. " he ruminated. " I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go down there and just see what this is all about".

The family loaded into the car that evening and parked in front of Super Giant Golden Panda Buffet. Shannon couldn’t help but wonder who would want to eat golden panda and hoped there wasn’t any other endangered species served on the buffet.

She began surveying the dining room as the hostess walked them to their booth. A waitress with a waist length pony tail came for their drink orders. She wasn’t Jia En. Shannon turned and began scanning the other servers. All of them were young Asian women. She didn’t know if she would even recognize Jia En; it had been ten years since she’d seen her.

Suddenly, she noticed a server refilling the buffet. The server seemed to be covertly perusing the room. There was something familiar about her. If only Shannon could get a glimpse of her face.

"I’ll go get the boys food", she told Mark, rising from her seat. She booked it over to the buffet.

"Does this dish contain seafood?" she asked the server. "My son’s highly allergic to seafood".

The lady turned. Years had filled out her face and figure, but the blunt nose and beautiful almond-shaped eyes were the same.

"Jia En! In Milford, of all places!" Shannon exclaimed, reaching out to hug her.

"No, no, no." shushed Jia En, batting away her arms. "Not here! Meet me later!" she looked over her shoulder.

"Where?" Shannon asked.

"You wait. I let you know." Jia En grabbed her empty aluminium pan and rushed toward the kitchen doors.

Shannon put chicken nuggets, fries and fresh fruit on the boys’ plates and headed back to the table. Mark met her eyes expectantly.

"Jia En?" he enquired.

"Yes! I can’t believe it!" Shannon gushed. She was right smack dab in the middle of a mystery.

"But she wouldn’t talk to me!" Shannon leaned toward Mark, whispering excitedly. "She didn’t want anyone to see that we know each other! Something’s going on here, Mark. Something big!"

Shannon waited all through the meal for something big to happen. She waited while Mark finished his fourth fully-loaded plate of food. Her eyes swung to the kitchen doors every time they swung open. Jia En never appeared again. She scanned the restaurant while taking her daughter Ellie to the bathroom to clean the soft-serve ice cream off her jeans. She waited at the booth with the kids while Mark went up to pay. Now it was time to leave and Shannon wasn’t sure what to do.

"We can’t wait here forever, hon", Mark reasoned. "She knows where you live; I’m sure she’ll get back in touch if she needs to".

Shannon sighed and rose. She took Peter and Paul’s hands in each of hers while Mark held Ellie’s. They left the restaurant and headed across the parking lot. Shannon heard footsteps sprinting behind her. She turned to see a very tall middle-aged man with a receding hairline loping toward her, determination on his face. He skidded to a stop to avoid crashing into Shannon, and consequently almost tripped over his size 14s. As he tilted halfway over, the pens spilled from his shirt pocket. He leaned down to retrieve them, causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

"Can I help you"? Shannon enquired. She saw Mark coming back toward her from the corner of her eye.

"Yes". The man panted, bending over with hands on his knees while he caught his breath. "Jia En".

"Jia En sent you?? Is she ok? What is going on?" Shannon almost shook the poor man.

He held his hands up. "Not here. It’s not safe. Where can I meet you?"

"Well, we’re going home right now. You might as well come-- you already know where we live, right?" Shannon asked, putting two and two together.

"Yes, I’ll follow you over." The man turned without waiting for reply.