Saturday, June 15, 2013

The Carma Klown 15



Chapter 15

© 2013 by the author

Saturday, ca. 2:30 and 6:00 a.m., June 12, 2010

The dream mixed elements from his day. He was with Jeff, and they were making out. And somehow one of the Klown’s victims was present. The three of them engaged in an elaborate ballet. And someone was speaking—to the victim, not to him or Jeff. But he knew what to do. His mind was very clear about what he was to do. And doing what he had to do—following instructions to the letter—gave him a great sense of pleasure and fulfillment. And somehow he knew that both Jeff and the victim felt the same way he did. When he saw his cum on Jeff’s body, mingled with Jeff’s thick black hair, a sense of accomplishment surged through him.

Several hours later, Michael and Jeff stirred in their sleep. Their movements woke them up. The clock on the nightstand read 6:03. Their bodies were entangled, sticky and moist. At some point during the night they had crawled under the covers for warmth, and the hot smell of their bodies drifted up from under the sheets and the blankets. Almost instantly they became aware that they needed to brush their teeth and to take showers. But they were too comfortable to move just yet. There was no need to say that they would not abandon the bed and separate until the last possible moment. Both agreed on that without speaking. They snuggled closer.

“We’re such sluts,” murmured Jeff. “Twice in one night.” He sounded dazed and still half-asleep.

“Mmmm,” said Michael, “Love you.” Something in what Jeff said momentarily struck him as odd. The next minute the thought was gone. It had been a wild night. It had been a wonderful night. He vaguely remembered a dream pieced together out of fragments of his day. It was odd how dreams mixed together elements like that. The next minute his thoughts were distracted when Jeff began nuzzling his neck. He forgot about the dream.

*****

Saturday, around 11:00 a.m., June 12, 2010

“How many jiaozi did Mom make? There must have been 500 on those trays we carried in.”

Michael and his sister Leah were having lunch together. They tried to do that once a week, usually on a workday. Leah would arrange her morning appointments at the outpatient clinic at University Hospital so that she could take a long lunch, and Michael would force himself to abandon his desk and his work for the hour’s lunch break specified in the Department’s regulations as every officer’s right, although he seldom got to take it. An hour’s break once a week with his sister at the nearest McDonalds was usually about the extent of his weekly time off. They had a wide choice of restaurants near the hospital, but they gravitated toward McDonalds. When they were growing up, their mother had loudly and frequently forbidden them to eat there, and Big Macs had acquired the aura of forbidden fruit. It was still a guilty pleasure, one kept secret (they hoped) from their mother.

“Oh, at least 500. I was talking to Mom last night and—well, you know how she talks—‘Those skinny white girls, maybe they think they eat only eat five dumplings, but my jiaozi so good they go back and take another and another and pretty soon they eat a dozen. And those big fat white men, they eat thirty—easy.’ She even mimed skinny white girls and big fat white men, to make sure I got the point. Then she was worried maybe she didn’t have enough. You know that it would dishonor the family if she didn’t bring enough food. The Changs would never live it down if someone walked away from the table hungry. So she made another batch, ‘just in case—you never know’ there might be more people than last time.” Leah laughed and took another bite of her hamburger. The juice started to run down her chin and she tilted her head back and licked her lips.

They were sitting across from each other at a plastic table at a McDonalds down the street from Jeff’s place of work. A half hour earlier they had helped their aunt and grandmother carry trays of meat dumplings and several large cooking pots into the offices of Jacoby and Greene. Their mother and Leah’s son Mikey had been hired to help produce the green-screen and motion-capture images for two characters in the latest version of the video game Five Worlds. Mikey had appeared in an earlier version, and he was back to play another, slightly older version of the same character. Their mother had been drafted to help by taking on the role of the empress dowager, the real ruler of the Fire Heptarky. She had drafted herself as the unofficial caterer for the day.

“When did she find time to make that many?”

“She had help. Grandma Chang was there, and Auntie Min and her two kids, and Mikey, plus all the ladies from the Friday Chinatown shopping club. When I went to pick Mikey up, she handed me a rolling pin and put me to work in the assembly line.”

“I still don’t understand how we escaped. I was certain she would make us help with the cooking. It’s not like Mom to let people get away from her table.”

“Well, there are two reasons for that.” Leah took another bite of her hamburger and then mopped the grease off her chin. She took her time chewing and swallowing before continuing. “First, she made extra for us. There is a tray for me sitting in her refrigerator. I’ll pick it up when we take her back later. And she brought a tray for Jeff to take home for the two you to have tonight. There must be a hundred jiaozi on each tray.”

“That’s enough for six people. Jeff will rebel if he has to eat jiaozi twice in one day. I’ll have to freeze most of them.” Michael got an alarmed look on his face. “Don’t tell Mom that, please.”

“Tell Mom that her carefully trained son is freezing her jiaozi to eat later. I’m not stupid, Michael. She’d kill me if she thought I had knowingly allowed you and Jeff not to finish all that food in one go. As far as she’s concerned, it’s my duty to stand over you and make sure you eat every one, even if I have to force feed you. You’d better make sure they’re gone before she visits you the next time. If she finds that you’ve frozen food she made for you rather than eating it, you’re in for it. Anyway, you’d better eat them. She and Mikey are scheduled for five days of work on this project. She’s planned menus for each day, and she’ll make sure that you get your share.”

“Is there no way to stop her?”

“You know the answer to that question, Michael.”

They both shrugged and laughed. “Yeah, I do. What’s the second?”

“The second what?”

“The second reason. You said that there were two reasons you were here today.”

“Ah, yes, the second reason. The second reason’s really why we were allowed to escape. Mom drafted me to interrogate you. I’m supposed to do it subtly so that you won’t know that I’m doing it or suspect that she assigned me this mission.”

“Oh, oh.”

“Now don’t look so wary. She just needs some information and she sent me to get it.”

“Information? What does she want to know and why?”

“Jeff’s parents, they live in Denver, right? She wants to talk to his mother. She wants the phone number.”

“What does she want with Mrs. Corelli?”

“She figures that since there’s no bride involved in your relationship, the parents of the two grooms should plan the wedding. There is going to be a wedding, isn’t there?”

“Yes, but Jeff and I are planning to take a week off and drive to Cape Cod. We haven’t set the date yet. We have friends who have a cottage there, and they said we could borrow it. We were going to get married there—just the two of us—by a clerk in the Marriage Bureau. We want to avoid any fuss. Just a simple ceremony. She does know that we can’t get married here, doesn’t she?”

Leah smiled. “You’re so naïve. She knows that, but she’s planning for the day when gay marriage will be legal in New York. She figures it’s only a matter of time. Mom would never allow you to get away with a civil marriage in Massachusetts. Even if you did pull it off, she wouldn’t regard you two as married, not until you had a ‘real’ wedding, by which she means a ceremony in Saint Pat’s with the archbishop presiding, a big procession with flower-draped limousines to the Beilou Palace, and firecrackers and a dragon dance outside the restaurant door as you and Jeff, aka THE HAPPILY MARRIED COUPLE, emerge from the last limousine. All followed by a twenty-course Chinese banquet for three hundred people.”

“Three hundred people? Who’s she inviting? And I thought Mom didn’t like the food at the Beilou Palace.”

“At least three hundred. Three hundred’s a conservative guess. The absolute minimum. She figures all of our family and all of our in-laws, all the family friends, all your colleagues from work, everyone who works at Jeff’s company, maybe the mayor and the city council, both senators, the entire congressional delegation. And that’s just on our side. Once she talks with Jeff’s mother, she’ll have a better idea. She asked if Jeff came from a large family and I had to tell her that I didn’t know. As for the Beilou Palace, it’s the only place big enough for that many people, and she figures if she and Grandma and Auntie Min give the cooks a few pointers and supervise its preparation, she can improve the food. She was even thinking she could bring in a couple chefs from Hongkong or Taibei—you know, offer them an all-expenses paid vacation as long as they spend four or five days preparing the wedding feast.”

Michael groaned. “I got to find a way to stop this.”

“You can’t. Just accept it. You’re getting married and Mom’s going to run the wedding. All you have to do is show up at the appointed time wearing the clothes she’s having made for you. Remember my wedding? And I’m only a daughter. You’re the son.”

“She’s having clothes made? Tell me she’s not going all Chinese and making red suits for us.”

“No, Grandma wanted red robes, but Mom said when Prince William and Kate got married, all the men wore top hats and morning clothes. She went online and found the proper names for everything. So that’s what she’s planning. But there will be red cummerbunds, red suspenders, red bowties, red pocket handkerchiefs, red carnations in the buttonholes—she says that will be enough red to bring you good luck. Now, stop worrying about it. You know she’s going to get her way eventually. She can’t let you escape with a small ceremony. And think about it—you don’t want to go against her wishes. She would never let you forget. The son who dishonored his family by running off and getting married by some city clerk as if you and Jeff had something to be ashamed of instead of flaunting your wedding in everyone’s face.”

“So if Jeff and I get married quietly, everybody in Chinatown is going to assume that one of us is eight months’ pregnant?”

“That brings me nicely to the last bit of information I’m supposed to extract from you.”

“Oh no, there’s more?”

“Well, she wants to know if Jeff has any sisters and how old they are, and if they are married and have children.”

“What? She’s planning to make them matrons of honor or something?”

“Not quite. Does he have sisters?”

“Two. Mira’s a couple years older than Jeff. She’s married and has a son—I think he’s four or five now. Louisa, his younger sister, is just finishing her junior year of college. As far as I know, she’s unattached and doesn’t plan on having children any time soon.”

“Good. That will fit Mom’s plans perfectly.”

“What plans? What’s she going to do now?”

“Mom’s been reading up on gay couples. You know, to give her some clues about how gay men live together and what to expect from you and Jeff. Anyway, she found this book about two guys who decided to have a child. It’s written by B. D. Wong, you know, that actor who plays the psychiatrist on that TV show about cops. Anyway Wong and his partner—one of them donated the sperm, I don’t remember which one, and the other man’s sister donated some of her eggs. They used in vitro fertilization, and then they hired this woman to be a surrogate and carry the baby to term.”

“Oh, no. I’m not hearing this.”

“There’s more. She’s decided that I will donate some of my eggs, and they can be fertilized using Jeff’s sperm. And then one of Jeff’s sisters or both can donate some of their eggs, and they will be fertilized with your sperm. She’ll hire two women to carry the babies to term. That way, each baby will be related to both sides of the family. They’ll be half Chang DNA and half Corelli DNA and can be named Chang-Corelli and Corelli-Chang depending on which one of you is the father. She’s even making lists of possible given names that could be both Chinese and Italian. You know, like you’re Mai-ke in Chinese and I’m Li-ya. She’s thinking maybe Leo/Li-ou if it’s a boy, and Anna/An-na if it’s a girl. She’s even considering names like Giovanni/Jiu-wan. She read up on the subject, and she and Dad are planning to pay for the whole thing. It’s going to be their wedding present to you. Even Grandma is going to chip in. And Auntie Min says she knows of two women who would make perfect surrogates.”

“Grandma and Auntie Min know about this. Who else knows?”

“Just the family for now. She wants to make sure that all the arrangements are successful before making the announcement.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“A bit. Why should you be the one to escape? And if you have children, it will relieve some of the pressure on Mikey. By the way, he’s decided that he wants to be known as Mike now. I’m supposed to tell everyone.”

“How are Jeff and I supposed to raise two kids?  With our jobs. We barely have time to live as it is.”

“Not to worry. You didn’t think Mom would let you raise your kids, did you? Two inexperienced, helpless males raising children when the world’s foremost expert on child-rearing is available? Just let Mom make all the arrangements. She’s going to do that anyway, and like she says, ‘Some day you will thank me for all that I’ve done for you.’ Now, stop groaning and finish your hamburger. We’d better look in on them soon or Mom will begin to wonder what we’re up to. I have a couple of small bottles of mouthwash in my purse so that that Mom doesn’t smell MacOdor on our breath.”

“Leah, I need you to do me a really big favor. Don’t talk to Mom about this.”

“I have to. You know she’ll ask. Don’t worry. She will talk with you and Jeff before she does anything.”

“No, no. I’m serious. Listen to me. Stop joking. Tell her that you spoke with me about it and there’s a problem. I need to talk with Jeff first before she says anything. It’s just that Jeff’s family isn’t comfortable talking about me and Jeff getting married. They really have strong religious objections to the whole idea. They’re still upset about Jeff’s being gay, and they don’t want to acknowledge that I even exist and that the two of us are living together. We need time to prepare them for that. And they won’t like the idea of our having children at all. They’re going to find that unnatural. I’m guessing the whole idea will anger them and they’ll just refuse to have anything more to do with Jeff. If Mom barges in and starts making plans, it will just make things harder for Jeff.”

“She’s not going to understand that. You know how she thinks that parents have to do everything they can to make their children successful. That’s what love is to her—making sure that we’re successful. She won’t believe that Jeff’s parents don’t want the same for him.”

“Just remind her that they’re not Chinese. She’ll accept that as a reason. She’s always ready to believe that people who aren’t Chinese are strange and unnatural.”

“She’ll want to talk to you and Jeff as soon as she hears about this.”

“Oh, I can’t deal with this now. Can you tell her to give me a few weeks? I’ve got so much going on at work. In fact, I’d better get back to work. There’s stuff I need to catch up on. I’ll text Mom that I was called into the office to deal with an emergency. What about you? Can’t you find some work to do at the clinic this afternoon? Anything so that you don’t have to talk with her? Grandma and Auntie Min can drive her and Mikey home. You don’t need to go back, do you?”

“Yeah, I can do that. But you know that you’re only postponing the discussion. She’s not going to let this go.”


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