Mambo in Chinatown

“You want him to come watch the competition?”

“He’s not really the type to attend one. Actually, I was hoping that you and I could do it for him somewhere, like at a party. He lives in Spanish Harlem and I’ve seen lots of couples dancing to this type of music there.”

I repeated, “Spanish Harlem.”

“I’d be with you.”

“Ryan, I’m not really supposed to see you outside of the studio.” Though I was tempted.

“What?”

“We’re not allowed to fraternize with the students.”

“Whoa.” He held his hands up. “I have a girlfriend, remember? This is just dancing at a party together. I could even pay you.”

It stung a bit, that he hadn’t intended his invitation in a romantic sense, although I knew anything between us wasn’t possible anyway. I frowned. “They do hire us out sometimes but for more formal events like a showcase or a wedding. I don’t think a party uptown would qualify.”

“What kind of dumb rule is this?”

I put it as clearly as I could. “If the studio thinks we’re having a romantic relationship, I’ll be fired.”

“I don’t want to get you into trouble.” He ducked his head. “I guess my friend will just have to keep believing I can’t dance.”

At the mention of his friend, a thought popped into my head. “Do you own a car?”

“I don’t want to drive to Harlem. It’ll get stripped.”

“So you do have one.”

“Yeah?”

I took a breath, then leaned in to say softly, “All right. We’ll do mambo for the competition and I’ll go to Spanish Harlem with you. No one will ever know about the party, okay?”

He straightened, looking glad. “Are you sure? It’s your job.”

“We’re not in love, so even if they do catch me, I’ll probably be all right. They’ll believe I’m telling the truth.”

His face became impassive. “Yes, good thing you wouldn’t be hiding anything.”

“But then I’m going to ask you to do a favor for me too. I have a friend who needs a car.”

—

On my way to the studio later that week, I kept tracing an advanced mambo step in my head as I walked through the Chinatown streets. Maybe Ryan and I could use this in our routine. It was swivel swivel hold, then hop freeze, and did I come out on the left or right leg after that? I started to mark the combination on the pavement. Oh yes, it was the right leg. I looked up to see a Chinese lady in boots and a puffy brown coat staring at me. She closed her mouth, gathered up her plastic shopping bags and literally ran away from me as if I were a crazy person. Oops. It wasn’t easy to do a mambo in Chinatown.

Just yesterday, our downstairs neighbor had come up to complain again about all of the noise in our apartment. Luckily, I was alone at home then.

“It sounds like a bunch of elephants are stomping around in here,” he said. “You two girls were always so quiet. What’s happened to you?”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure it stops.” I resolved to practice at home only in my socks from then on.

—

I wondered if I could pretend to be sick for the matchmaking dim sum session on Sunday morning with Grace, but I was afraid Godmother Yuan would never forgive me. I chose my clothing carefully. It was a matter of pride that I wanted to look nice, although I still dressed more conservatively than I did at the studio. Pa was already gone and Lisa had left for a friend’s apartment.

When I entered the restaurant, I saw Grace and a number of other people seated at a large round table. I knew from watching matchmaking sessions at the noodle restaurant that the girl was usually placed at the opposite end of the table from the intended guy, with all of their family and friends in between. I wondered why it was done this way, since it was so awkward for the potential couple, but I thought it showed whose opinion really mattered regarding the match: the family’s.

Indeed, Grace was at one end and I sca

Winston stood up so quickly when I arrived at the table that he almost knocked his chair over. Grace was as pretty as ever. However, while I’d always seen her laughing, now she seemed bored and resentful. To Grace’s left were people who must have been De

De

I could feel Winston’s gaze on me and I didn’t want to speak to him so I pretended De

He perked up. “I think it’s really interesting to apply scientific measurements to age-old techniques.”

I thought about the jars in Uncle’s office. “I’ve always wondered exactly which medicines worked and which ones didn’t. Although I feel sorry for the animals that get killed for them, especially in cruel ways.”

“I was just learning about a technique where they shove an ink stone down the throat of a living poisonous toad and then leave the creature to dry in the sun. The ink is supposed to be very potent in curing certain diseases.” His face was more animated than I’d ever seen it.

I grimaced. “I think that sort of thing should be outlawed.”

“You’re very kindhearted. But don’t you think human well-being is more important than some animal’s?”

I tried to keep the smile on my face as we continued chatting. The older people picked out the food they wanted from the waiters who pushed the dim sum carts around the restaurant. It was actually pretty easy to be sociable now that I had to do it for my job. Once Pa caught my eye and jerked his head toward Winston. I must have turned beet red and made sure not to glance in his direction again.

When I stood up to refill everyone’s cups again, I realized that Mrs. Yuan, the matchmaker and Grace were all watching us with varying degrees of animosity. Of course, the matchmaker wouldn’t get her extra fee if De

For a moment, I remembered our old easy friendship. After we’d grown apart, I’d been jealous of Grace. I’d wondered, if I’d still had a mother and grandma like her, would I have been as attractive? Now I saw her as a girl wearing too much makeup, weighed down by the need to look perfect all the time, by all of those logos on her bags and shoes. I thought about what Zan had told me about Grace being caught in bed with a girl. Maybe Grace was just like me, with desires that couldn’t be expressed in our small community. Had she been in love with that girl? Had her parents made them stop seeing each other? Did she feel as lonely as I did sometimes? I realized that in a way, Grace and I were similar, both trying to figure out who we were outside of our parents’ world.