Chapter 8

Finally it was Spring Break, and Jean and I were celebrating. I had aced all my exams, and had been awarded an academic scholarship. We had splurged a little and gotten some sexy bikinis, according to her. And once I finished an exhibition on Friday we were heading for Panama City!

And since she now had a car, it was already loaded up, and as soon as I finished we were jumping in her Aztec and heading South. We had reservations at a hotel about 15 miles from the beach, and it would be 4 days and 3 nights of sun, parties, and alcohol.

But I was nervous, this was my first public exhibition. And Mrs. Wong had set it up so half way through the exhibition for Cherry Blossom Festival I would do my solo. I was nervous, and after talking with her I decided to forgo the usual attire of loose fitting and brightly colored outfit with scarves.

Instead, I had Jean take me to my Grandmother Song’s a month before, and had her help me pick out my outfit. She knew all the best shops in Chinatown, and soon we were deep in the maze of small streets and alleys, and were in front of what she told me was “Madam Wu’s”.

And soon we were talking with Madam Wu, and I was describing what I wanted. I wanted an ankle length qipao (also known as a cheongsam), in a dark hunter green. With embroidered cherry blossoms and other flowers at the bust in colors that would stand out, and flowers and birds stretching from my waist down to my knees. She then had me put several different ones on, so she could take measurements as her and Grandma Song compared cuts and fabrics.

Jean almost gushed when she saw me in the one that was finally decided on for fit and the older ladies went across the room to look at bolts of silk. “Oh Di, that looks amazing! It fits you almost like it was a second layer of skin! And the silk is beautiful! Is it going to look like that?”

I laughed. “Jean, I have no idea. Madam Wu is only using this as a template because it is almost a perfect fit for me. She is going to custom make me one, but at least in fit it will be almost exactly like this one.”

“Well, this one is like a dark dark blue, with dragons on the skirt and one over your left breast. Butitisnot like what I saw the girls wear at rehearsal.”

“Well Jean, this is actually about as far from what is worn in these dances as you can get. But since I am doing an entirely new kind of dance, why not break all traditions and wear something different?”

By this time Madam Wu and Grandma returned, and she was making measurements all over my body. Neck, bust, under my bust, waist, hips, inseam, widest point of my hips to ankles, and others I really did not understand. Finally we were finished, and she said I would need to return in 2 weeks for another fitting. Then I asked her how much it would cost.

Jean gasped when she said $200, and I told her no. “Madam Wu, that can’t be right! Even an inexpensive mass produced one is around $400! And you are going to make me one? That can’t be the correct price.”

I felt her take my hands in hers, and kissed them both. “Dianne, you may not remember but I was the one that made your red one when you were 6. And I made your dancing costumes as well. What I am charging covers the materials. The dress, it is my gift for you. My gift, for your being with us, and for you returning to dance. If I can ask a favor, I would like to be there when you wear it. Do that, and I will consider the $200 more than adequate payment.”

I pulled her to me and hugged her, and whispered “Auntie Liling?” She hugged me back, and said that I did remember!

Auntie Liling was not my real aunt, but she was an old friend of my Grandmother’s from when she was a child. I had not visited her since I was a child, and I remembered the pretty red qipao she had made for me when I was a child. It was the reason I wanted this made.

“Auntie Liling, I still have that red one. It sits in my closet in a bag, waiting for when I have a daughter who can wear it. It is one of my most prized possessions. I still go in and hold it in my lap sometimes and trace the embroidery with my fingers, remembering how it looked. And when I have a daughter, I promise to bring her here so you can see her in it.”

We were all crying now, and finally we were finished and she brought us to her apartment where we sipped tea and chatted. I never realized what an emotional day it would be just getting a costume.

But now I was all dressed up in the final outfit, and it fit me like a glove. It was so tight I could not wear anything but the smallest of panties under it, for fear of them being visible through the silk. I was listening to the music as a troop of girls around 10 were doing a dance, and remembering when I did the same thing. Then I heard a soft cough behind me. “Yes?”

“Di, I just wanted you to know I am proud of you. And that I was an ass. I will not distract you, but I am looking forward to watching you perform, and I am sorry.” I tried to call out to Steve, but he had already left. I gave a sad smile. He was not a bad boyfriend, just more pushy than I wanted. And I did wish him well.

Finally it was time. Mrs. Wong made the announcement that Miss Dianne Wong, a former student of hers was going to give a special exhibition of dance. This was not for award consideration, simply to show others that anybody can enjoy the art. I pushed my new reduced frame glasses up on my nose and waited for my guide. As she said this, a little girl named Terry who was 6 took my elbow and guided me to the center of the stage then left.

I got into the pose I was to start in, and gave a slight nod. And a few seconds later the music started. What I did was half a traditional yangge dance, and half a martial arts kata. It was to stress my limberness and the grace of my female form, and also my concentration and fluidness. And I could feel the slits along my legs as they extended out past my dress, and how the silk hugged my form as a second skin. Finally after 5 minutes I ended the routine almost as a sword fighter might. With my left leg extended and almost kneeling, my right leg out behind me as if I was in a lunge. And my cane on the ground, as if it were a sword I had put in the ground point down.

I held it for 5 seconds after the music ended, and then I heard loud applause. I slowly and gracefully came back up to my feet and gave a deep bow to the audience, and the applause got even louder. Finally Terry returned and grasped my elbow as she had been instructed, and guided me off of the stage.

As soon as I was off my mom grabbed and hugged me, saying it was beautiful. And her cheek was wet when she kissed mine. Then my dad hugged me, then John. Janice did also, kissing my cheek. Then Grandma Song, Jean, Auntie Liling, Mrs. Wong, and many others I could barely keep track of them all. Even Kim was there, with Xavier.

Finally we were all in the break room and I was having a soda when my dad said that somebody wanted to talk to me. It turns out that it was a reporter from the school newspaper. The girl had been taking photos of the performances, thinking that it would make an interesting piece. But after seeing my performance she wanted to do another one just on me!

I talked to her for about 20 minutes, and allowed her to take several photos. In a few I even posed in some of the positions I used. And I noticed that there were more cameras going off than just hers. “Excuse me, may I ask how many others are taking pictures please?”

And I heard a man in Mandarin say that there were 6 of them, all reporters. I laughed, and responded in kind that I did not know I was giving a mass interview, and he laughed. Then switched to flawless English.

“Forgive me Miss Wong, I am with the Chinatown Weekly. And I will let my other associates introduce themselves. We all wanted to interview you, but Ms. Lawrence was doing such a good job we just took our own notes. She already gave us permission to use her questions and answers in our own pieces, and to take photographs at the same time. I hope this is acceptable to you.”

I laughed and said it was, so long as it meant I did not have to do this 6 more times. They all laughed, and soon all of them were giving me their names. Including one from the local TV station (which was a network affiliate), and Jake Chen from Sinovision, a US based Chinese language station that syndicated a lot of it’s programming to local Chinese language stations.

After another 15 minutes of answering questions from most of the reporters they were satisfied, and Mr. Chen asked if I could give him another interview in Mandarin. And basically it was a repeat of my earlier one, talking about my dancing as a child, my accident, and over a year ago rediscovering my love for dance. And thanking Mrs. Wong for encouraging me to find my own way, one I could do with my limitations and that myself and hopefully others could appreciate.

And when he finished and told me the camera was off, I heard applause again. It seems the entire dance troop had watched, with some softly translating for those that did not speak Mandarin. And it felt wonderful, having all those girls and ladies my age and older hugging me. And as a group I told them to continue dancing. “You may not appreciate it now, I know I hated it sometimes when I was a little girl. But trust me, someday you will look back at moments like these and be thankful that you did it.”

Finally I was escorted into a dressing room by Grandma, my mom and Auntie Liling. They helped me off with my outfit, and mom handed me fresh underwear, then my tank top and shorts as I heard Grandma and Auntie hanging up my qipao and putting it in a garment bag. They said they would take it to be cleaned, and Grandma would hold it until I wanted it back. I hugged all of the ladies, and picking up my clothing bag went to join Jean. And holding my elbow she guided me to the car.

And after grabbing a quick lunch at a burger place we were on the freeway heading to Panama City. We stopped for the night in a motel outside of Mobile. It was a little place, and the owner was actually a Korean-American lady a little older than I was. We talked for a bit, and she had a wicked sense of humor. She even shocked me when one of her employees asked her if I was a relative.

“No, she’s just a guest. Come on Miracelle, the differences should be obvious between us. I am a Gook, she is a Chink.” I was taken aback at this, but she started to giggle and I of course followed along. It seems that just like me, she had learned to use humor and being politically incorrect as a way to fight off ignorance. And the way the maid laughed I assume she understood that as well.

Soon we were pulling into the motel and Art was unloading the luggage as Jean and I were getting settled in the room. We could only get a single room, but at least it had 2 beds. And Jean guided me around so I knew where everything was. There was a pool, showers, a changing room, and a bar set up just outside of it. And at the corner about 100 yards away a fast food place and 24 hour store.

“OK, just let me know if you want me gone for a few hours, and at least I know I can make myself scarce.” I went upstairs and got into my new bikini, one that Jean said was killer on me. And throwing on a robe and book I headed down with her to get some sun. And today I had decided to wear the tiny square frame glasses, which sat close to my face and barely covered my eyes.

She and Tim actually insisted on making sure I was well covered with lotion, with Jean taking my front and Tim taking my back. I even teased him as he was applying the lotion higher than he should on my butt, and told him he should save such attention for his girlfriend.

About 45 minutes later Jean came up and asked if I would be OK for an “hour or so”. I laughed, and asked her how my tan was looking, and she said I was even and it did not look like I was burning. I told her to go ahead upstairs and fuck her boyfriend, I would be just fine reading my book.

About a half hour later I had just rolled back over onto my back and was about to pick up my book again when I heard somebody ask me if I wanted a drink. I did not realize they actually had waiters here, so I asked for a Bloody Mary. He said he would bring it right to me, and I opened my book and started reading. I heard him coming back and placing the drink on the table next to me, so I put my bookmark back in place and asked him how much I owed him.

“Owe? You don’t seem to understand. I do not work here, I was simply offering you a drink. My name is Aaron, and you seemed to be alone and I thought you might like some company.”

I apologized, and laughed and said I would love some company. I could hear him sit next to me as I reached over and picked up the drink. A bit more spicy than I was used to, but still not bad. We chatted, and got to know each other. He was an engineering student at Auburn University, and a Junior. I told him I was a “Sophomore Plus” at a community college, getting my GE degree before transferring to the state university.

“Sophomore plus? Not sure I have heard of that one before.”

So I explained that my first year I had taken a lighter course load than normal, so was going to be finishing my AA in another 9 months, in what should normally be my Junior year. And then I might take a few months off, and then transition to getting my Business Administration degree at the State University.

We were talking about his wanting to specialize in aeronautical engineering when I finished the last of my drink, and he said “May I?” So I gave him a big smile and handed him my glass. I was reaching for my purse and he said to put it away, it was his treat. “OK, make this one a Margarita please, no salt this time. And I will get the next round.” He said that was agreeable, and headed off to get us refills.