Mom: Everyone is looking for you.
Mom: Call us back!!!
Mom: IRIS!!!!!!!
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: Did you get my email?
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: Hey, message me when you get my email
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: Okay, I’m just getting on a flight to Milan, so I won’t have signal for a while
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: Can you call me?
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: The dog is waiting at the airport for you, but the monks can’t seem to reach you
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: The spa owner has been calling you nonstop
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: IRIS! You promised to pick up and look after the dog!
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: PICK up your phone
SuperPrincessQueenRuby8421: You know how important the show is to me
25
Madame Xing
“Your baby will be a Rooster,” Madame Xing says, gazing intensely at me. Her assistant, whose name is Hollie, takes a photo of me for publicity.
I stare at the fortune-teller, a little flabbergasted. I didn’t know I’d be having a Rooster baby.
“Yes,” she says, placing her hand on my stomach. She squeezes my belly and I wince. I think she pushed a little too hard on my bladder. Thankfully, I only had a small cup of coffee this morning. Even though Madame Xing has a heavy accent, she speaks English fluently.
“Your features show unusual strength. Are you a Tiger?” she says.
“Yes!” I exclaim. “How did you know?! Is it my mustache?”
Madame Xing slowly winks at me.
I can see why my dad has been obsessed with her for seventeen-plus years. She is a magnificent woman wearing an oversize fur coat and long fake red acrylic nails. She’s also wearing the highest gold stiletto shoes that I have ever seen. Are those Jimmy Choos? She looks absolutely fantastic. Madame Xing should be performing in Las Vegas or on a five-star cruise ship. If anything, I want to be her when I grow up, except that I don’t have any fortune-telling talent.
I really want to hear more about my Rooster baby, but I realize I just need to find out more about myself.
As she places both hands on my stomach again and squeezes, I’m unable to play along anymore and blurt out, “There’s no baby.”
She pauses, looking shocked.
“My dad says that I have a curse on me because I threw up on you when I was a baby. I am a flower-heart with no college acceptances, no boyfriend, or any friends. My dad and grandpa have been fighting for many years, and I need you to tell my dad to forgive him. He worships you.”
No response.
“Please, Madame Xing, I just want my dad to be happy, and the only way is if he can have his family back together. My dad is a really proud Goat. I love my dad and even though he sent me away to China, I am starting to understand why. Sometimes people do shitty things because they think it will help the other person. Can you please help me fix my family?”
I am babbling anxiously and I don’t know how to stop.
Finally, Madame Xing stares at me and then pulls hard on my nose.
“Ouch,” I say, wondering if she’s putting another curse on me.
There’s a long, awkward pause.
Fidgeting, I don’t know what to say or do.
I don’t know if I should look ashamed or make up an excuse.
“You lied about a baby to see me?” Madame Xing finally says, sounding incensed.
At first, I think she’s going to yell at me or throw me out of the conference room, but she starts laughing hysterically. It’s a loud, booming, echoing sound. Like a gorilla. Honestly, I’m impressed by her huge auditorium laugh. Finally, she slaps her knee twice and calls her assistant to bring her a bottle of baijiu.
“You are very brave, persistent, and creative, aren’t you?’ she says, taking a swig of alcohol.
Surprised, I look at her. No one has ever said these kind things to me before. It sounds like three authentic compliments. The nicest words that anyone, including my parents, has ever said about my personality.
She laughs and eventually, I laugh too. But she doesn’t offer me a drink of baijiu. Just a glass of water.
Humphing like some kind of farm animal, Madame Xing checks my face for unlucky moles and finds nothing. The spacing between my eyes is very symmetrical and she makes me open my mouth and checks for wide gaps between my teeth. I have many, which means, according to Buddha and Confucius, that I’ll be very lucky in the wealth and fame department. She clucks a few times and then makes mysterious oohing and aahing noises.
“What?” I gasp. “What’s wrong?”
Then she makes me spit into a cup and she examines it.
What kind of fortune-telling is this?
Why does my dad believe in Madame Xing so much?
It’s literally like going to the dentist.
“Is there something wrong?” I practically scream as she makes her hundredth oohing and aahing sound.
“Your heart is broken because you care too much about what people think about you,” she finally declares. “You have a lot of energy, qi, that is all over the place. You’re like a storm that can’t decide its direction. Pick one way and just focus, otherwise you will never get anywhere. Flower-hearts are sensitive, but they are not hopeless. You have Tiger in you to make you strong.”
“But what about my dad, who is a Goat?” I say. “How can I get him to forgive his father?”
“Goats are very stubborn, yes, but they are pack animals, right? They will always need to find their family to be happy. You need to talk to your dad. You can tell him that I told you that he needs to go to Beijing and speak to his parents. Misunderstandings always happen when people live too far away from family. He can call me if he wants to talk.”
She hands me her card.
“You are doing a very good thing to help your dad, Weijun. If you keep thinking of other people, you can also find out what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I say, suddenly sniffling. “I don’t know how to make myself happy.”
“You make your dad happy and then you can choose to be either a happy Tiger or a sad Tiger,” she says. “It’s all up to you.”
“I’ve honestly messed up my life,” I say. “Everyone back home thinks I’m a giant failure.”
“Why do you always worry about what people think of you?” she says, looking me in the eye. “Who are you, Wang Weijun?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” I admit.
She makes another loud animal-like humphing sound. It sounds like she has an excess of phlegm. “Why are you trying to be what they want you to be? Does the tiger care what the other animals in the jungle think of her?”
And I realize she’s completely right.
All my life I have been one of those sad combo pizzas from Domino’s, trying to be what other people want me to be. I’ve been pepperoni on one side and zesty ham and pineapple on the other. Sometimes I’ve been vegetarian or a meat lover’s combo for $12.99. I’ve always been whatever anyone decided to order.
I’m trying to be my dad’s, Uncle Dai’s, and Frank’s different versions of Chinese.
I’ve never just been my own pizza. I’ve never thought I could choose my own toppings. That I could be my own flavor. My own authentic brand of Chinese American pizza with lots of spicy cheeses, onions, gassy anchovies, and a few deep-fried tarantulas for extra crunch.