I also knew that in this life, it is always wise to have at least one person to watch your back.
I set aside the newspapers, dressed, had a hurried breakfast of congee at a stall and took a taxi to the gray, depressing-looking building that was Kwong Wah Hospital in Kowloon’s Mong Kok area. I hurried inside the drab, medicinal-smelling lobby of this infamous institution where, it was reputed, few who came in ever came out.
At the reception desk sat a thirtyish, skinny, mean-faced woman totally absorbed in reading a sheet of paper, presumably a letter.
I put up my most ingratiating smile and asked in my most polite voice about the woman I knew as Melodie, or Shadow.
She raised her head and looked at me with a straight face. “We neither have a Shadow nor a Melodie here.” Then she sniggered, her eyes shrinking into slits. “What kind of names are these, anyway?”
I cast her a disapproving look. “Miss, I’m here looking for the young lady who fell during her performance at the Shen’s Circus last night at Shek Tong Tsui.”
She returned my look with an even more disapproving one. “Miss, this is a public hospital and we treat many girls who fall every day. Last night there was one who jumped from her boyfriend’s apartment after he told her that he had never loved her, not even a single day. There was another one who was being chased by her debt collector and fell from her balcony. So, I really don’t know which one you’re talking about. Miss, I’m sorry. This is a hospital, not a detective’s office.”
I knew she was not going to help me, or maybe she really didn’t know, or just was too lazy to even look it up. But maybe she would not be able to find it anyway, for like my name Camilla, Shadow and Melodie were made-up ones. Her parents must have given her a name, but I had no idea what it was.
“All right, thanks anyway, and enjoy your reading,” I said sarcastically.
She ignored my remark and went right back to her reading. Was it a love letter from her boyfriend? But what kind of man would waste time detailing his love to a woman like her? I amused myself wondering, when he decided to dump her, would she chase him and fall to her death?
But I cut off this train of thought and decided to look for Shadow myself, making my way through all the wards, floor by floor. Finally, I was inside the last room on the fifth floor, my last chance. Inside, there were altogether six beds, all occupied. I cast a quick glance around, but none of the women, young or old, looked anything like Shadow. But then I saw that there was another patient in a dark corner far from the windows. I could see that she was covered with bandages, except for slits over her eyes, nose, and mouth.
I hurried toward the bed, afraid that this was Shadow, horribly injured, but equally afraid that if it was not her, it meant she had died. This living mummy had hair that was long, curly, and black, just like my friend’s. But instead of the shiny tresses I was used to, her hair was spread over the pillow looking like tangled seaweed.
When I passed the bed of an elderly woman, she reached her skinny, clawlike hand to grab my sleeve. “Miss, please have a seat and talk to me.”
“Sorry, but I don’t know you.”
The many-wrinkled face pleaded. “But I’m your grandmother and I am lonely! No one comes to visit. So now you’re here, why don’t you sit beside me so we can talk?”
But fortunately or unfortunately, I never knew my mother, let alone any grandmother. So I ignored her and continued toward the patient in the corner by the window. I stopped in front of my target and looked, and what I saw gave me a chill. The patient was covered with bandages; though there were slits for her eyes, they seemed to be staring at nothing in particular. One of her feet was covered by a plaster cast and suspended in midair. Tubes were going in and out all over her body like little snakes slithering over rocks. Was the rotten odor that assaulted my nostrils coming from underneath her bandages, or the collective stink from all the sick and neglected patients? Or was it the smell of death? Because not all the patients lying here had moved at all since I’d come in.
I leaned close to the bandaged face. “Shadow?”
The resurrected mummy looked at me but didn’t respond.
I whispered again. “Shadow, is that you?”
Still no response. But a few seconds later, I noticed teardrops trickling down from the corners of her eyes. I realized that she must be in such pain that it even hurt to speak.
So I said very tenderly, like I was speaking to my little Jinjin in my dream, “I know you can’t talk. But if you’re Shadow, please nod.”
She did. Tears kept trickling down.
I tried to blink back mine. “It’s Camilla, your friend who comes to see you.”
She nodded again.
“And don’t worry, I think you’ll be fine.”
No response.
I asked. “Anyone paying for your hospital fees here?”
I noticed a slight shook of her head.
“Don’t worry, Shadow, I’ll take care of that.”
More tears oozed from the once-lantern-bright, but now glassy fish eyes. I took out my handkerchief to dab those soul’s windows through which, for now, her soul seemed to have departed. At that moment a white-robed doctor and a white-uniformed nurse came into the room and walked straight toward us.
Both cast me a curious look. The nurse asked, “Are you a relative?”
“No, just a friend.”
“Then step aside and come back in fifteen minutes, Doctor is going to check on her.”
Outside the big room I took a seat on a bench next to a young woman holding her son. She looked worried and the baby looked sick. So I decided not to bother them with conversation. The shock of seeing a bandaged and banged-up Shadow had depleted my body and my spirit. Suddenly, I felt ten years older and completely drained of energy. What had happened to Shadow could also have happened to me if Old Heaven decided I was his enemy. And that sick baby right next to me, would he make it? And if not, how would his mother cope? What about my little Jinjin, was he now in good health doted on by a loving family, or was he being neglected and abused?
In the hospital, all I could see was a sea of despondent faces. Now, sitting beside this sad mother and children, and waiting to hear about my horribly injured friend, I wondered if misery was all one can expect in this life. I hoped not. I still wished that someday I’d be reunited with Jinying and Jinjin, even win back Shadow as a real friend.
Lost in these thoughts, it was a moment before I realized that the doctor and nurse were now standing in front of me.
I stood up, put on my best smile, and asked politely, “Doctor, will my friend be okay?”
“She’s had a torn ligament—it will take some long time to heal.”
“Why is her face bandaged? Did it get burned?”
“Only slightly. She should be fine, maybe only one or two small scars.”
“Then why is it all bandaged?”
“To prevent possible infection; besides, she has some abrasions.”
Now the nurse cut in. “Do you know if she has any relatives?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Someone has to pay for her expenses.”
“I can pay for her.”
“Good. Go to the cashier now and take care of the bill.”
And this concluded the conversation about the life and death of a young, beautiful, talented woman.
I visited Shadow every day in the hospital, bringing her food and soup, fresh fruits, and special grape juice that is supposed to be good for sick people.