Change

Fueled by my confidence in wooing Lu, I decided to change up another unnecessary routine. I decided to walk home by going on Bentley, turning left on Chester, and back to Jupiter Apartments on Polaski. As rain began to drizzle on my hopeless attempt at a hairstyle, I took cover under Madame Maureen's Palm. I had never been in the place before, never had a desire to, but whenever I passed by it she was always in there, seemingly longing for something that could never be given to her. At least not any time soon. Something was different this time. She was nowhere to be found.

At that point I had a gut feeling that this town would not be the same, or at least as I perceived it. I wasn't sure in what capacity change would come in or how dominant the change would be. But I was ready for it. I think I've been ready for longer than I've been aware of. I heard an ambulance screaming into town, and I swiftly pushed out the door to greet it.

Kung Pao

Fanny Mae Lewis is an inspiration. She acted on her impulses, and she made a stand. I never knew this woman existed until last night, when even I crowded around her apartment to see a man lying on her floor, freshly stabbed. Through everyone's raucous murmurs, I arrived at the conclusion that he was some sort of lover, boyfriend, or as I heard someone say, her "booty call." Not quite sure what that one means, but I got the gist.

The next morning I decided I would make my stand, expect mine would not be nearly as gruesome. Mine would give me a reason for living here and give me the satisfaction I had deprived myself of for too long. I went to the market and bought the menu for today's meal. It was something more piquant than I was used to. More confident.

The meal was ready, I was ready. I packaged it up and put it in a satchel I found in my closet. I would not need the assistance of my segway today. I pulled my hair out of a bun and walked out the door, making sure to leave the boy's meal. He'd be in for a spicy surprise. It was 1:07. Oh well.

I walked into Lu's somewhat regretting my decision to wear my hair down, due to the humid weather. I slowly pushed it behind my ears. Lu walked up to me.

"Herro, Su."

I pulled out the meal and prepared it for him. Handing him the fork and knife, we both stared intently at my attempt to make a stand. I still could not look him in the eye as the fork pierced the meat, and the knife tore it. Though when he put the fork to his mouth, I would not allow myself to miss his reaction.

"Kung Pao!" Lu exclaimed.

At that moment I quickly reached my hand to his, like it was a reflex. I kept it there, and our eyes finally met.

Misua

Dear Su,

I just wanted to let you know that Lin finally lost the battle to leukemia. I'm not trying to give you any satisfaction by finally writing back after your persistent letters. I just wanted to allow you a glimpse of the life you abandoned. I hope your life with Ronald is worth all the trouble you caused over here.

Shan

I folded the letter back up and placed it back into the envelope. I looked outside my window, partly cloudy, to see what the "Ronald" my brother spoke of was doing. As usual, he was sitting in his sewer, scheming what was probably his next plan to "screw over" (I learned that term at the market. It had a nice ring to it.) somebody's life. I pity whoever that somebody may be. No, my "life with Ronald" was not worth all the trouble I apparently caused in my hometown. He tried to kill me. My lack of experience in the love department sure impaired my judgment on that one. Needless to say, things didn't work out. I would go back to my family, but I don't think I would receive a warm welcome. I did leave them for a psychotic man who currently resides in a sewer.

I walked back to the kitchen to taste the misua. Needs more salt.

Lunch, and Dessert?

After a few months of deliberation, I have decided to take it to the next step with Lu. This bold move is tremendously out of character for me, but after my last relationship I was ready to have some control. It was Tuesday, which meant I only had 5 days to intricately design the "move" I would make on Lu. One idea I had was to make Lu not only lunch on Sunday, but a dessert as well. Then he will immediately interpret my affectionate feelings, and I will let him do the rest of the work. Since most of my brilliant ideas came in the form of food, I decided to go to the food market to spark some more creative genius.

I walked outside onto Polaski only to find out the whole road had been closed off due to work on a manhole. That was just silly. I had to walk onto Rouse and through the area behind the church to compensate. Once I got to the food market, I couldn't help but take on my relentless food critic character. It really does bring out the worst in me. Apples, $1 a pound-way too expensive for the condition those "things" were in. Carrots, 25 cents per pound-they appeared to be okay, but for that unreasonably cheap price they had to have been green on the inside. After I had picked up a few things and was about ready to leave, a large dog jumped on me, aiming for the pork I assume. A middle-aged woman who appeared to be the owner, visually embarassed, yelled,

"JoJo, get over here RIGHT NOW!"

Then, turning to me,

"Ma'am, I am so sorry. It is not like him at all to act this way."

Funny, turns out both me and the dog were trying something out of character today. If I didn't feel sorry for her, I would have just walked away to let her know exactly how I felt about that. Who brings a dog to a food market, anyway? Instead, I politely and very much in my public character said,

"Do not worry. We all have our off days."

I started walking back to Jupiter apartments, the long way, glad this what-should-have-been-a-pleasant-trip-to-the-market-turned-massive-ordeal was almost over. Then, from out of nowhere, some loon runs up behind me, grabs my food, and continues running. What was wrong (relatively speaking) with this town today? Was this all a sign that I should wait a few more months until I "make my move" on Lu?

Leftovers

The second I placed my size 5 foot on the cold, icy concrete outside Jupiter Apartments, I knew I wouldn't be delivering any noodles today. It was a deceivingly nice day. The sun was shining, but those roads patched with ice and snow would be treacherous. The segway was not ready for those. Lu would understand.

This morning's alarm clock was that of a ring more persistent than the routine sirens through the night. Somebody pulled the fire alarm, bringing all the residents of Jupiter Apartments together on Rouse Street. The culprit was identified when his mother made him confess that he was responsible for the wake-up call. That little boy around the corner was either crying for attention that his mother probably deprived him of, or he had become as bitter as the rest of the folks in this town and wanted to give everyone an early morning scare. Whatever the cause, he needed his meal at 1 PM, on the dot. However, I would not be making a fresh batch of noodles just for him. No, he will be receiving last night's fried rice.

As we all stumbled back to our rooms, a couple of my neighbors caught my eye. Sidda, or maybe it was Sydney, looked uncomfortable. Well, she always looked uncomfortable. But she had not yet tamed that lion-esque hair this morning, and she appeared very aware of that unfortunate situation. I could probably count on my child-sized hand the number of words we had ever exchanged. Then someone shooved past me, obviously, I think the proper term would be "pissed off", by what happened. It must have been that man with the standoffish demeanor, at least, distinctively moreso than the already cynical population here. If I had no fingers, I could count the words we had ever spoken to each other.

Once I got back to 404B, I slept for a couple more hours. When I woke up, I realized I was overdue for my monthly attempt to reconnect with those I had left behind in China. The coming and going sirens assured me that it was a very fitting day to stay in and complete this task. I searched for a pen and paper, and wrote, almost habitually, "Dear Shan, Please don't throw this away..."

Lo Mein

Lo mein days were usually good days. Lu always noted that the ratio of seasonings was "just right." The little boy around the corner always returned the noodle bowl, empty, by the time I got back from my check-ups with Lu. The hobo in the tunnel would always smile at me, teeth showing. He smiled at me every Sunday, and I couldn't blame him. That absurd segway had the power to force a smile on anyone's face. However, the smiles on non-lo mein days were closed-mouth smiles. For some inexplicable reason, it was only on lo mein days that I would get a glimpse of those yellow-with-a-hint-of-brown teeth.

I had a theory for why lo mein days were good days. Living in an apartment by myself in this town has given me a lot of time to ponder fatuous matters such as this. Lo mein undoubtedly had the most calories of all my recipes. I have put a lot of thought into this, and I have come to the conclusion that calories are true happiness in food form. Each calorie represents a degree of happiness; the more calories there are in a dish, the happier the person eating the dish is. This statement my seem contradictory coming from a woman 60 inches in height and 100 pounds in weight, but in my life I have found no satisfaction more true than that of eating good meal, filled with calories.

After I finished cleaning the dishes that night, removing the remenents of the noodles, but never the smell, I began another one of my Sunday routines. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, put my pajamas on, and placed myself in front of my 12-inch Sony TV. At 8 o'clock ABC's "Wipeout" promptly came on. American television is not quite as ludicrous as my native Chinese is, but it sure was getting there.

Lamian Noodles

The smell of salt, oil, and egg engulfed room 404B of Jupiter Apartments. It was my favorite smell, the smell of noodles boiled to perfection, unlike those half-cooked earthworms Chan tried to pass off as lo mein. People who strolled along Polaski Avenue every now and then thought Chan's Noodles were the best value on the go. Everyone who lived on Level 4 of Jupiter Apartments knew better. My noodles not only tasted significantly better, but they also came at a much more reasonable price. Only 2 dollar. Chan sold his at 4 dollars a bowl.
This batch, however, gave me no monetary gain. I was making for the little boy around the corner of Level 4. I didn't really know the circumstances, but I did understand that the boy rarely got a decent meal. Sometimes his mother would even buy him Chan's. Every Sunday I would prepare a big bowl of steaming noodles, the type varying from week to week, and leave it outside my door at 1PM, on the dot. Today's special was lamian. I had never missed the deadline. He had never missed a meal.
I didn't mind that I was known as the mysterious old Asian noodle lady in my apartment complex. I didn't really care to get to know anybody as nobody appeared to want to get to know me. Either everyone thought I would perform some ancient Chinese ritual if they disturbed me, or they were just complacent with the limited symbiosis of me making noodles for them in exchange for me making money to make more noodles. The only person I was really concerned with getting to know was Lu, of Lu's Garage, and he didn't even live on Level 4.
I had met Lu about 2 months ago. And along with making noodles for the boy around the corner, I also made some for Lu every Sunday. In exchange for the noodles, he would give my segway a weekly check-up. I actually ordered the ridiculous piece of machinery to have an excuse to see him. I didn't need a car, I didn't have a lot of money (the noodle industry was tough in this town),and I needed something mechanical, so a segway seemed like the best option. I only used it to go see Lu every Sunday. So after I placed the bowl of noodles outside my door for the boy, I reached for my silver ticket to see Lu. It was 1 PM, I was right on schedule. I placed his noodles, also lamian, inside the basket on my segway and began to contemplate what Lu and I would talk about today.