The autumn rain fell on the street. He walked on cheerlessly when he looked up. One quick glance and he knew, through experience, that the pretty young woman could be a stowaway. Ordinarily he could have waved his hand to stop her and ask to see her identification. Yet, he didn’t.
This pretty young woman is too hot.
If . . . if what? He was shocked and didn’t continue the thought.
The young woman, an open umbrella in one hand, a basket of meat and vegetables in another, walked ahead of him. That posture, that willowy gait. Oh!
He followed.
Suddenly they were inside the same elevator. He noticed the nervousness in the young woman’s face and felt even more sure of his suspicion.
This woman is like a little frightened deer and I am the hunter. He thought to himself gleefully. This woman is alone by herself, and me, Chen Shanlin, I’m all alone, too.
The elevator door opened. The young woman bolted. Stunned, he nevertheless responded fast. He bounded forward and slipped out just behind her.
The young woman turned her head to look at him, she was like a lamb waiting for the slaughter.
A tender feeling of pity arose inside him. Yet, he had already advanced so far there was no way he could retreat voluntarily.
He cleared his throat and said as clearly as possible: “Miss, your ID.”
The young woman was so stunned it took her a while to find her voice again, stammering: “I don’t have it with me. I’ve left it at home.”
“I’ll go with you then.”
At that, his heart quivered. A lone man and a woman alone. . . .
Two people in a small home. The rain brought in by them fell on the floor.
He stood in the living room, feeling somewhat awkward. “Your ID?” He asked again.
The young woman said. “Wait here. I’ll go look for it in the bedroom.”
Yet after a long while she didn’t come out.
This he had expected. She is a stowaway. How can she have an ID? She is only playing a game! Okay, let me just sit on the sofa and wait for you. See if you can produce an ID from thin air!
At long last the young woman came out and handed him an ID, timidly. He was taken aback.
He looked it over and said: “I’m sorry. I need to check. . . . ”
As he was about to press the walkie-talkie, the young woman came closer, nestled up to him, and said in a quivering voice: “Ah Sir, please give me a chance!”
It turned out to be a fake ID.
In the physical entanglement that followed, he suddenly lost control. The police officer and the stowaway suddenly morphed into a man and a woman.
When the storm was over he would pretend not to have seen. The young woman said: “Don’t turn me in.”
At any rate, one more stowaway in Hong Kong wouldn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t sink the land. Just pretend I didn’t see anything.
When he returned to the street, his partner had been looking for him anxiously. “Hey, where the heck have you been? A whole hour. You could have done anything. How can I report this to the boss? What if there was a robbery?”
He nodded and bowed to apologize. In his heart though he continued to savor this drizzly autumn afternoon and the maddening young woman.
(n.d.)