The Night Tiger(107)

The nearest cover was a distant stand of shophouses, and we raced to the covered five-foot walkway in front, gasping. Water poured in hissing sheets from the eaves, turning the dirt road into mud.

“What shall we do?” I said, after we’d waited a good five minutes. There was little chance of this downpour stopping, and meanwhile, the minutes were ticking off towards eight o’clock. How would we catch the train?

“We can run for it,” said Shin.

And so began our mad dash, zigzagging from one shelter to another like beetles scurrying out from under a flowerpot. There were intermittent blocks of shops and large rain trees, but it was no use. I knew it even as I fought down the panicky feeling of being late. That train would leave without us. My shoes were slick with water and twice I almost turned my ankle.

“You all right?” asked Shin.

I put my hand on the trunk of a tree to steady myself. “Yes,” I said, gritting my teeth. I’d never complained about things like this before and I wasn’t going to start now. If being a good sport was the best way for us to be together, then I’d keep playing along.

Shin kept his eyes firmly fixed on my forehead. “Just a little farther,” he said. “Over there.”

We still weren’t anywhere near the train station, and when I glanced at his wristwatch, the hands pointed at five to eight. It was impossible.

“Do you still have the ring I gave you the other day?”

I stared at him, wondering why he was suddenly bothered about it. I should have returned it to him earlier, and embarrassed, I unwrapped the handkerchief.

“Put it on,” he said.

“Why?”

He looked exasperated. “Just put it on and follow me.”

A few doors down, Shin stopped and glanced up at a signboard. Then he went in. It was a small hotel. I’d never stayed in a hotel before. When my mother and I had visited Taiping long ago, we’d stayed with one of her aunts, a fierce-looking woman who seemed to have inherited all the backbone that my mother lacked. I wondered if she still lived in this town and what she’d think if she saw me going into a hotel with a man. Even if he was my stepbrother.

The other girls at work had taught me to be wary of hotels. Never meet a man there. Not even in the reception area. It was a test, they said, to weed out those girls who would, and those who wouldn’t. And now here I was, about to step into one. A rather rundown one from what I could tell. But today’s circumstances were different, and besides, I was with Shin. That was all right, wasn’t it?

The interior of the hotel was gloomy and dank. A single electric lamp lighted the front desk, where Shin was signing a book. The clerk was an older woman, and she gave me a piercing glance. “No luggage?”

“We missed the train back,” said Shin easily. “So we’ll just need one night.”

She looked at him, and then at me again. I did my best to appear unruffled, as though I missed trains every day. Speaking of which, why was Shin so familiar with this process? How many women had he taken to hotels? I stared at his back and the older woman met my eyes knowingly.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lee,” she said, reading the register. “Newlyweds?”

“No,” he said, “We’ve been together for a long time.” He put his arm around me, careful to show off the ring on my finger.

“Do you want a meal?”

Shin looked at me. “Just tea and toast.”

“We’ll send it up,” said the clerk. She squeezed her bulk around the desk and led us up a worn flight of stairs. “You’re lucky tonight, this is the only room left with a private bathroom.”

The room was small and sparsely furnished, with stained-glass window shutters in a flower pattern that overlooked the rainy street in front. But I was staring at the bed, not the view. Neatly made up with sheets and two stiff high pillows, a thin cotton blanket stretched tightly over it. A double bed. What had I been expecting, two twins?

“Shin,” I said as soon as the clerk had left us. “Why didn’t you just say we were siblings?”

“We don’t have enough money for two singles. Besides, claiming you’re my sister sounds more suspicious since we don’t look alike.” He spoke reasonably, but there was something about his averted face that made me think that he was nervous. I’d never seen Shin like this before, and felt even more skittish. It was best to be hearty, I decided.

“I’ve never been in a hotel before,” I said cheerfully.

Silence. I couldn’t really ask him if he’d ever been in one, because clearly he had, though I’d no idea under what circumstances. Perhaps it was all my imagination, but I couldn’t help thinking of Shin meeting women in hotels. Eager young women, sophisticated older women. What did it matter since it wasn’t my business?

“I’ll go and wash up,” I said.

To my surprise, Shin opened the brown paper bag he’d bought earlier and, after rummaging around, produced a brand-new men’s shirt. It was plain white cotton, packed flat and tight with the collar still bound in cardboard and pinned into place.

“Here,” he took out the pins and passed it to me. “You can have this.”

“Don’t you need it?”

His clothes were wet, too, but he shook his head. “Go ahead.”

When I went into the adjoining bathroom, a small tiled boxlike space, I understood why. One glance in the narrow mirror, and I was mortified to discover that my wet dress clung to me. No wonder Shin had kept his eyes glued to my forehead. Shivering, I stripped off and washed up with the thin, hard cotton towels. Then I put on the men’s shirt. Somehow, though less revealing than what I’d been wearing earlier, it looked far more provocative. Not knowing what to do, I stood in the bathroom for a good long while, trying to gather enough courage to go back out. But when I pushed the door open softly, Shin was gone.