Chapter 2 (1/2)
I gasped with surprise once I saw that it was him, and he blinked his eyes as if to tell me he was alive. This blink caused quite a disturbance in its wake. I was so startled that I sprang up from him and the moment the blankets were lifted, the sunlight shone un.o.bstructed onto his bare naked chest.
Bare. Naked.
I recalled the cool, smooth sensation on my cheek just a while ago and an ominous feeling loomed over me. I looked down only to discover that both of us were half-naked!
Immediately, purely out of instinct, I s.n.a.t.c.hed over the blankets around my shoulders and wrapped myself in it. I stared at him fixedly with only my head sticking out.
Without my weight on his chest, Pokerface moved his upper body a little and swung an arm back behind his head, looking completely laid back as if he was watching something entertaining.
In my extremely awkward position, I wiggled my thighs together only to discover that we were both naked down there too.
My head was already killing me and now I felt like I was having a stroke. I didn’t even want to begin to think about what part of him I was straddling.
“Erm. Xiaoge, wh…wh….” The cat got my tongue. Finally, I managed to get a complete but very stupid sentence out. “Where are our clothes?”
For just a second there, I spotted the corners of his lips twitch. However, he didn’t say anything and only turned away to look at a spot in my room.
I followed his gaze over to the laundry basket in front of my bathroom. Two wrinkly pant legs were hanging out of it—those were the khakis I had worn last night all right. I peered in between the holes of the basket to see that it was packed full. It appeared Pokerface’s were in there as well.
At the same time, my sense of smell suddenly became more acute. An odour that strangely reminded me of vomit had not been very noticeable but now it filled the whole room and of course, my nose.
Quickly, I covered my mouth. The smell of alcohol rushed up into my mouth along with the odour and I almost barfed.
Oh, s.h.i.+t. s.h.i.+t. c.r.a.p. c.r.a.p. s.h.i.+t. s.h.i.+t. c.r.a.p…
I had been gazing up at the moon from the cab I had been in on the way to meet with Uncle Three at Full Moon House yesterday. The sky was clear, almost cloudless. The moon was so close and round that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw Chang'e flitting across with a bunny in her arms.
I probably had too much to drink, I thought to myself, so that I’m having such lame thoughts. I looked for the room number Uncle Three gave me as soon as I got to the restaurant. I pulled open the door, went in and turned around to close it. Only after I turned back around and took a step forward do I see the situation. The moment I did, I backed up and—bang! —knocked the back of my head hard against the door frame.
Four pairs of eyes saw my idiotic behaviour.
The one on the farthest left was Uncle Three who was still in the middle of pouring a drink. Next to him was Panzi and Fats was squished in beside him while the seat beside Fats was empty. What surprised me the most was that next to the empty seat, the rightmost seat, sat Pokerface.
Strictly speaking, at this time, I had already experienced the fright of seeing Pokerface without any warning beforehand, but the extent of the fright of seeing him sitting at a dinner table couldn’t even compare to that of seeing him in bed.
“Comrade Innocence, did you run into a ghost or something on the way here? It’s Xiaoge. Don’t tell me you don’t remember Xiaoge.” Fats raised his gla.s.s and waved it towards Pokerface.
“Shut up, Fats. Or else you’re gonna run into some yourself! I was just…” I quickly tried acting normal and coughed several times. I tugged at my collar and walked over to the table.
There were only five chairs around the table. Pokerface edged forward a bit to make room for me. I shuffled in sideways and took the seat in between him and Fats. After I settled in, I stole a glance at Pokerface and thought, why is he here too? On the other hand, he just did what he always did—pin pointing inanimate objects with his eyes. This time his target was a beam in the corner of the room. He was probably evaluating its st.u.r.diness for a hypothetical earthquake.
At this time, Fats pushed a gla.s.s of beer to me. I picked it up, finis.h.i.+ng, “I was just surprised to see Xiaoge here too.”
I said this in Uncle Three’s direction. But why didn’t I just ask the party in question? Why was I so socially awkward?
“I didn’t know Xiaoge was going to come. I called you first and then I remembered I had some things to discuss with Xiaoge, so I dialed his number, he picked up, I told him our plans here tonight and he ended up getting here before you.”
He called me first, and then Pokerface? To be able to connect these two things together, I figured Uncle Three was kind of high already. His fingers were shaking when he poured his drink and alcohol spilled out several times. Panzi who was beside him quickly guided him back.
“See how considerate Xiaoge is? He came and didn’t forget about gifts.” Fats kept pounding my back hard as though to stop my heart from beating while motioning towards the box of moon cakes surrounded by a tableful of dishes with his other fat hand.
I thought, he’s already giving us respect by coming here so why would he need to bring gifts? But, I took a look at the colourful gift-wrapped moon cakes labelled with their corresponding fillings, and then I took a look at little Pokerface who was so unnoticeable he could almost blend into the background—I really couldn’t put those two phenomena together.
Maybe the aura of inquiry coming from me was too strong, because Pokerface said nonchalantly, “It was a gift.”
His voice was low, so low that only I could catch it. Immediately, I realised he was giving me an answer. I shut my mouth and swallowed the other question that I almost blurted out.
It was a gift? From whom?
But strictly speaking, it had nothing to do with me. It was normal to exchange gifts during the holiday seasons. I was only curious. Just the fact that Pokerface could be contacted through mobile phone was more unbelievable than seeing Chang’e flying in the sky.
I mean, in order to contact Pokerface… This was a picture that I often had in my head: you would write a letter, tie it to the leg of a pigeon, let it go and not expect a reply for at least ten days or half a month; or, if you are even braver, you would wander around some of the graves he might appear in and if you really were lucky enough to run into him, you would be sure to win the lottery that day my friend.