“I’m glad he did. Nick has been so wonderful!” Kerry exclaimed.
“Great—why don’t you throw him a parade or take him out for oysters? I’m on my way to Shenzhen right now. I need to meet 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