eet my father.”
“Please don’t go!” Kerry tried to grab hold of Rachel’s arm, but Rachel jerked back defensively.
“Because of you, I’ve had to wait twenty-nine years to meet my father. I’m not waiting another second!” Rachel shouted.
“Daughter, I know you didn’t want to see me, but I needed to tell you this myself: Zhou Fang Min is not your father.”
“I’m not listening to you anymore, Mom. I’m tired of all the lies. I’ve read the articles about my kidnapping, and Mr. Goh’s Chinese lawyers have already been in touch with my father. He’s very eager to meet me.” Rachel was adamant.
Kerry looked pleadingly into her daughter’s eyes. “Please believe me—you don’t want to meet him. Your father is not the man in Dongguan Prison. Your father is someone else, someone I truly loved.”
“Oh great, now you’re telling me I’m the illegitimate daughter of some other guy?” Rachel could feel the torrent of blood rushing into her head, and she felt as if she was back in that horrific drawing room in Cameron Highlands. Just when things were beginning to make sense to her, everything was turned upside down again. Rachel turned to Peik Lin and gave her a dazed look. “Could you ask your driver to step on his gas pedal and just run me over right now? Tell him to make it quick.”
19
The Star Trek House
SINGAPORE
Daisy Foo phoned Eleanor in a panic, telling her to come quickly, but Eleanor still could not believe her eyes when she entered the living room of Carol Tai’s mansion, the one everyone called the “Star Trek House.” Sister Gracie, the Taiwan-born Houston-based Pentecostal preacher who had just flown in at Carol’s request, circled around the lavishly appointed space as if in a trance, smashing up all the antique Chinese furniture and porcelain, while Carol and her husband sat in the middle of the room on the woven silk sofa, watching the destruction in a daze as two disciples of Sister Gracie’s prayed over them. Following behind the diminutive preacher with tightly permed gray hair was a full brigade of servants, some helping to break the objects she pointed at with her rosewood walking stick, others frantically sweeping up all the debris and putting it into giant black garbage bags.
“False idols! Satanic objects! Leave this house of peace,” Sister Gracie screamed, her voice echoing throughout the cavernous room. Priceless Ming vases were smashed, Qing dynasty scrolls were torn up, and gold-dipped Buddhas were toppled to the ground as Sister Gracie decreed every object bearing the depiction of an animal or a face to be satanic. Owls were satanic. Frogs were satanic. Grasshoppers were satanic. Lotus flowers, though not an animal and faceless, were also deemed satanic because of their association with Buddhist iconography. But there was none more evil than the devilish dragon.
“Do you know why tragedy has befallen this house? Do you know why your firstborn son, Bernard, has defied your wishes and run off to Vegas to marry some pregnant soap-opera harlot who pretends to be from Taiwan? It is because of these idols! Just look at the intricate lapis lazuli dragon on this imperial folding screen! Its evil ruby eyes have transfixed your son. You have surrounded him with symbols of sin every day of his life. What do you expect him to do but sin?”
“What utter nonsense is she talking? Bernard hasn’t lived in this house for years,” Lorena Lim whispered. But Carol was looking at Sister Gracie as if she were receiving a message from Jesus Christ himself, and she continued to allow the wholesale destruction of antiquities that would have made any museum curator weep.
“It’s been like this for hours. They started in the dato’s study,” Daisy whispered. Eleanor jumped a little as Sister Gracie tipped over a Qianlong funerary urn next to her. “Those snakes on that urn! Those snakes are descended from the one in the Garden of Eden,” Sister Gracie screeched.
“Alamak, Elle, Lorena, come help me rescue some things from Carol’s bedroom before Sister Gracie gets in there. If she sees that ivory sculpture of Quan Yin, the goddess of mercy, she’s going to start convulsing! That Quan Yin has been around since the twelfth century, but it will have no hope surviving this one,” Daisy said furtively. The three of them backed slowly away from the living room and made a beeline for Carol’s bedroom.
The ladies rushed about wrapping up any decorative objects that could possibly be at risk in towels and pillowcases and shoving them into their handbags and random shopping bags.
“Those jade parrots! Grab those jade parrots!” Daisy instructed.
“Is the water buffalo considered satanic?” Lorena wondered, holding up a delicate horn carving.
“Aiyah, don’t stand there using eye power! Take everything! Put it all in your handbag! We can return everything to Carol once she comes to her senses,” Daisy barked.
“I wish I’d used my Birkin and not my Kelly today,” Lorena lamented as she tried to fit the water buffalo into her stiff leather handbag.
“Okay, my driver is parked just outside the kitchen door. Give me the first shopping bags and I will run them over to my car,” Eleanor said. As she grabbed the first two shopping bags from Daisy, a maid entered Carol’s bedroom.
Eleanor knew she had to get past the maid with her suspiciously bulging shopping bags. “Girlie, fetch me a glass of iced tea with lemon,” she said in her most imperious tone.
“Alamak, Elle, it’s me—Nadine!” Eleanor almost dropped her shopping bags in shock. Nadine was utterly unrecognizable. She was dressed in yoga sweats, and gone was the thick mask of makeup, the over-teased hair, and the ostentatious jewelry.
“Oh my God, Nadine, what happened to you? I thought you were one of the maids!” Eleanor exclaimed.
“Nadine, I love your new look! Aiyah, now I can see how Francesca used to look just like you, before her cheek implants,” Daisy gushed.
Nadine smiled bleakly, plopping down on Carol’s Huanghuali bed. “My father-in-law woke up from his coma, as you know. We were all so happy, and when they discharged him from the hospital, we drove him home and had a surprise party waiting for him. All the Shaws were there. But we forgot the old man had never been to the new house—we bought Leedon Road after he had gone into a coma. Old man threw a fit when he realized this was our new house. He said, ‘Wah, who do you think you are, living in such a big mansion with so many cars and servants?’ Then when he got inside and saw Francesca all dressed up, he started to choke. He started screaming that she looked like a prostitute from Geylang.* Aiyah, she was wearing haute couture for her grandpa! Is it her fault that hemlines are so short this season? The very next morning, he made his lawyers take back control of Shaw Foods. He kicked my poor Ronnie off the board, and he froze all the bank accounts, everything. Now he has ordered us to return every penny we’ve spent in the last six years, or he’s threatening to disinherit all of us and give his whole fortune to the Shaw Foundation!”
“My goodness, Nadine. How are you managing?” Lorena asked, gravely concerned. Nadine was one of L’Orient Jewelry’s biggest clients, and her sudden reversal of fortune would surely affect the quarterly numbers.
“Well, you see my new look. For now, we are all trying to act kwai kwai. I mean, how many more years can that old man live? He’ll have another stroke in no time. I’ll be fine—I spent years living in that cramped shop house with him, remember? We put Leedon Road on the market, but the problem is Francesca. She doesn’t want to move back to a small house again. It’s so malu for her. She’s really suffering. Francesca was always Grandpa’s favorite, and now he’s taken away her monthly allowance. How is she supposed to live on her lawyer’s salary? Wandi Meggaharto and Parker Yeo have dropped her, and she’s had to resign from every charitable board. She just can’t afford the clothes for it anymore. She blames Ronnie and me. She comes into our bedroom every night and screams and screams at us. She thinks we should have pulled the plug on the old man when we had the chance. Can you imagine? I never realized my own daughter could ever say such a thing!”
“I’m sorry to say this, Nadine, but this is what happens when you try to give your children everything,” Daisy sagely offered. “Look at what’s happened with Bernard. From the time he was a small boy I already knew he was a disaster waiting to happen. The dato’ spoiled him rotten, and never ever said no to him. And he thought he was being so clever, giving the boy that huge trust fund when he turned eighteen. Now look what’s happened. They’re getting Kitty Pong as a daughter-in-law. No amount of antique-smashing is going to change that.”