My Story of Chi An
or
Fate and it's Unreasoning

“I’m testing immortality!” she grinned, looking down at me from her perch. Then she dove headlong into the river, and I sighed, shaking my head. I crawled down the riverbank and threw my rescue tube out in front of me, swimming over to her and pulling her to me and then back to shore. It was a good thing that I was prepared for her to do this, and an even better thing that I had my stuff to go lifeguard after that. I carried her back to my Suzuki and wrapped her up in an old wool blanket that I keep in there for emergencies and beach parties. She gave me a weak smile and whispered softly, “You know me too well.”
Two hours and twenty-six minutes later, we were back in her hospital room, the grin still playing across her face, her brown eyes sparkling and her raven hair pulled back into a neat pony tail. Warmer and drier, she looked as happy as Marian-berry pie sitting there, but I knew that her pale lips had not been so ashen before we left.
“Next time you make plans to escape, you’d better count me out, you hear? I’ll be crucified for sure, and then you’ll be sorry,” I said, feigning concern as I gazed down at her at almost the same height that she was above me just a few hours before.
“Oh, well you’re no fun. I knew from the second I’d met you –“ I cut her off as she started to pout, folding her arms and turning away from me.
“My ass. You knew I was more fun than you were going to find from anyone else that day. Don’t claim you didn’t know that.” I’m strong willed, but I give in too easily where she’s concerned. She wasn’t going to take me for granted that time though, not if I could help it.

I had just got off my shift at the café when she walked in. I wanted to study her a little while, so I pretended like I had a few more dishes to put through the dishwasher, all the while keeping my eyes on her little Asian body and beautiful eyes. She didn’t look like she was waiting for anyone. I could say this with almost certainty after working in a place where many people wait. You begin to notice who’s got someone coming and who doesn’t, and she pretty obviously didn’t. So I wiped my hands, took my apron off, and walked over to her, smoothing down my boy-short hair and work-rumpled clothes. I took a seat across from her, and ducking my head I said in a whispery sort of voice,
“There’s a CIA agent to your left, he’s waiting for someone to come in and buy a mocha and a blueberry muffin. The woman to your right has been proposed to earlier today, but she isn’t going to do it because the man across from her is her brother and she is afraid he’s going to look down on such a thing and not give her away.” I was taking a real chance on going about things this way, but as a fortune cookie I had once said,

Take a chance and fate does the rest.”

I guess it knew what it was talking about, because I sure didn’t. Fate doesn’t mess with me though, he and I are good friends. She leaned in close like I was, and said,
“The man behind you just lost his dog to lady death, and he’s come here with his best friend – who also happens to be his ex-girlfriend – to hide his tears in public. Had he stayed home, he would have watched the soaps and called her, wailing about his loss and embarrassing himself further.”
“You’re morbid, you know that?” I said, leaning back and reveling in the game. I had found me someone who could match my skills.
“You’re the one who’s got that poor widower waiting for a mocha and muffin. Why don’t you just have him wait to be shot?” She leaned back as well, closing her book and stretching. “Let’s go for a walk, my dad isn’t coming for another two hours, and it looks like you’re off work.”
“Let me grab my coat and stuff and I’ll be right back,” I said, pleased yet somehow astonished that she was so eager. This could be fun. I clocked myself out and shoved my timecard in the slot, noticed I was off all next week.

Fingernails pale pink, a few flecks of black that she hadn’t been able to get off. I told her it was a horrid color. I notice that a few more wisps of hair were falling out, I’d have to let her know kindly, knowing it would put her in a bitchy mood. She hates the thought of having nothing to brush, of not being able to run her fingers through it without worrying that it will all come away in her hand. It’s a constant nightmare for her that she won’t wake up, and yet as she sleeps I wish she won’t awaken so she won’t have to face any more twists of fate. My once cherished fate, now turned against me and my beloved.

“Come over about seven then, will you? I’ll have dinner ready by then,” she giggled into the phone at me, at my need to have a real time, not some iffish figure that would get both of us into trouble. It was a good thing that I was driving, not her.
“Are you sure it’s okay with your dad, he’s not going to wonder why there’s some strange girl in his house overnight?” I asked, lucky she wasn’t there to see me shake my head at her. I’d never met her dad, though I’d heard plenty about him. She is a talker, that’s for sure. I knew positively everything by that time, though there was still that pretty major detail she “forgot” to tell me. But that comes later.

“Maybe I should tell you my name. Chi An.” She held out her hand to me, laughing and walking with a quick jumpy step, not quite a skip, but more than a walk. It was hard to keep up as she danced around me, and there was no way I would be able to grab her hand to shake it. So I patted her on the head instead, a gesture that was comfortable far beyond our ten minutes of friendship. She grabbed both my hands and started jogging backwards, pulling me as I made a show of mock unwillingness.
“Where the hell are we going?” I laughed, running to be beside this crazy girl as I dropped her left hand to clasp the right one more tightly.
“I’ll show you, just trust me,” she gasped, as though trusting a stranger was something that she did every day, and that I should do the same. Figuring I was bigger than her anyway, I followed.

“Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.” The answer was the same one she’d given me for the past half hour, and mine would be the same next time she asked me.
“What would you do if I kissed you?”
“I’d kiss you back.” I was hoping she’d say that, but my trust in fate had been shaken a bit. He was back at my side again.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”

I hate hospitals. More than all the onions, banana popsicles, and Pine Sol in the world put together. I have been afraid of them since a child, since I broke my leg in the third grade and had to have it be put back together by a man with a handle-bar mustache who kept asking me why I let the elephant step on my leg. I kept trying to tell him that it was no elephant, it was a big toy, but he wouldn’t listen to me.
So as I walked down the hallway, listening to the squeak of my shoes and looking desperately for the right floor, I shivered. My beauty shouldn’t be here, despite the fact that it was supposed to make her better. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t afraid of anything. Me, on the other hand…. I was a mess.

“My father adopted me when I was a month shy of two years old. I didn’t know what was happening, except that I was supposed to go with this strange man and leave all of my friends and caretakers behind. I knew maybe three words of English at the time, and he knew maybe three words of Chinese, not including my name. I was scared shitless, you know? I wasn’t sure what was going on.”
“Don’t tell me you remember what went on when you were two,” I wanted to believe her, but I was worried about having the wool pulled over my eyes. After all, we’d been talking for maybe half an hour. How much did I know about her, about truth? Not a whole lot. On the other hand, I thought, what does it matter? I might never see this beautiful person ever again.
“Okay, you’re right. But I do remember a little bit about leaving, like it was a dream or something. Anyway,” she paused, accentuating that last word like my interruption was a huge bother, “My father was single then and is single now. He likes to go out with women, but he never gets serious about them. I’m his girl, and that’s enough for him. We have great fun.”

We had just finished dancing to some random song by the Beach Boys, something that I had never done before. I’d never danced before, not really. Not like that. We were sitting on her basement couch, and it was after midnight. She said something about playing ‘Truth or Dare’ and I murmured my assent. She laid her head in my lap and snuggled a little closer, playing with the fringe from the knees of my ripped jeans, looking away. I stroked her arm as she asked me, “Truth or Dare?”
Not wanting to move or to make her move, I said very amiably, “Truth.”
Maybe it was fate this time as well, because for the next half hour it felt perfect to talk back and forth using this format. I would ask her something, or she would ask me something, and there was never any variance. Somehow that made it easier to ask, like we weren’t prying into each others business but rather just friends at a party. There weren’t any giggles though, which made it so much more sacred than any party game. I don’t think I can have that ever again. I wonder if I would want it if I could.

In the brown paper sack I had a white flannel T-shirt, a pair of my old jeans which were too small now, and her hiking boots that she had left at my house one day. I casually opened her door, despite the fear that had followed me down that long hallway, and sneaked into the room. Her eyes lit up, and holding a finger to my lips, I motioned for her to be quiet. She rolled her eyes – this was her plan after all – and jumped out of bed. She grabbed the bag without thanks and changed right in front of me, not even bothering to close the curtains over the window. She arranged some pillows under the covers of the bed and pulled the curtain around it as if she was still there and simply wanted privacy. She pulled her remaining hair back into a pony tail and tied her shoelaces. Grabbing my hand, she gave me a quick kiss, and then quietly slipped out the door. I was at her heels, not wanting to get left behind in that dismal place.
Once outside, she ran to my Suzuki, jumped into the passenger’s side and almost hugged herself with glee. I noticed the hospital bracelet was still hanging on her dainty wrist, but didn’t say anything. It would have only deadened her joy, and I adored seeing her joyful. Her birthday wish, she had told me the week before, was to go someplace free and to revel in her seventeen years of existence. I knew just the place.
When I was five, my parents drove my brother and I to a river that meanders around our south California town and into the backwoods. It has a beautiful deep spot for swimming, but this time of year it moves pretty fast and I wasn’t planning to get in. I’d brought my bathing suit with me, however, because ‘accidents’ happen, especially with Chi. It’s a very secluded spot, hard to get to and good for thinking. I go there when I want to remember stuff, or just to be alone. I knew she’d like it.

Homework was impossible. I kept telling myself that anything is possible, but it wasn’t working. Fate wanted me to be ready for something else, though he hadn’t told me that outright. I got the phone call just three minutes after I had shoved the rest of my school books into my bag and cleared my desk.
“Joni, I have a favor to ask.” She never began her phone conversations by telling me who she was, but by this time she didn’t have to. Chi was the only one who ever called my house back in those days. This time her voice wasn’t as strong and vibrant as it usually was, and I could almost detect a tear.
“What’s the matter, are you in trouble?” I was worried.
“Can you pick me up? Dad has to work late and I’m all alone…” her voice drifted off, a sniffle punctuating the request.
“Of course, but where are you?” I tried to put all the loving concern in my voice that I could possibly fit, but somehow the phone just wasn’t my friend that day.
“I’m… I can’t… I mean… Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” She was sobbing, and I was suddenly terrified.
“Where are you?” I was about ready to cry myself.
“I’m at the hospital,” she began, but before she could say anything more, I said,
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” and hung up the phone.

We talked about a lot of things the first day we met, but we never mentioned how weird it was for either of us to just be friendly and trusting like that. She’s said that she doesn’t believe in fate, and I’ve told her that he’s my brother. But she’s like that, she wants to think that everything is in her hands, and that nobody else is controlling her. I’m not saying he’s controlling her, but I’m also not going to agree that nobody has a hand in what she does. Hell, even I have a hand in what she does. But her soul is her own, as well as her personality. Nobody but the Lord can take that.
We talked about our pet peeves and little quirks, my need to check what time it is, her addiction to being strange, my hatred of driving alone, her sleep habits. I couldn’t think of ever seeing her again, and yet I couldn’t imagine letting her go, couldn’t imagine not getting every bit of loveliness from her. But that makes me sound like a leech, and I don’t mean to be. I just wanted to be around those gleaming almond eyes, that shinning hair, that slim lithe body. That day she was wearing a loose pair of khakis, a small white T-shirt, and a turtle-fur jacket. She is much more fashionable than I, I who wears used and broken clothes that I get for a quarter every Wednesday.
After a while we wandered back to the café where I met her dad. He was in a business suit and tie, indeed Caucasian and without a wedding ring. So I believed her story about being adopted. We traded phone numbers, and the rest is history.

And now I lay her down to sleep, I pray the Lord her soul to keep, and since she’ll most likely die before she wakes, I pray the Lord her soul to take. But I swear, if he harms any bit of that lovely soul, I will kill myself so I can see him and give him a piece of my mind. Just a short time ago I couldn’t have imagined letting her go, although I’d known for the last part of our friendship she was dying. And within a few days, maybe more maybe less, she is going to be gone forever. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Ah Chi, I will never love another as I love you now. Please forgive me for not finding you sooner, for not living up to your standards. Lord knows I tried.

Fate, you have a way of making each of us powerless and humble. And if you are indeed the God who I have been raised with, then I don’t feel like my prayers are in vain. And if you are another, then perhaps my misguided prayers will be forwarded to you. And if you are only fate, no more, no less, then how can prayer hurt any?

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