A NEW BEGINNING [184 - 189]

Pag.184

A NEW BEGINNING 

It almost killed me, but I bit my tongue and made the call anyway. 

Back in Hong Kong, after six months of inaction, whatever reputation I’d been able to build had crumbled away. Just like my apartment, which the building manager was kind enough to check in on every so often, to make sure nothing had been stolen; as nice as he was, he was too old and busy to clean it for me, so when I returned, the place was a terrible mess, full of spiders and dust. I started out my second life in Hong Kong with a day of sweeping and fixing things that had mysteriously broken.

And then, like I said, I made the call. 

My life is full of uncomfortable phone calls. 

“Yeah, who is it?” said the rough, familiar voice. 

“It’s me,” I said. “Yuen Lo.” 

Samo barked out a laugh. “Yuen Lo. The exiled prince. What brings you back to our little island? Or are you still down under with all the other beasts?” 

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my pride from bursting out of my chest. This was even more difficult than I’d thought. “Big Brother, I’m back, and I need a job.” And I’m willing to kiss your ass for one. I said to myself silently. That’s how desperate I am. 

“Well, well, well, you need Biggest Brother to bail you out again, huh,” he said. “As usual, you’re a lucky bastard, and I’m a nice guy. In about a month, I’ll need an assistant. Guess you’ll do as well as anyone—that Yuen Kwai has a mouth on him, and Yuen Biao was always useless.”

Assistant! After I’d gone all the way to the top, a she tao myself. And to have to bow down to Big Brother day in and day out, just like my school days. Plus, the job was a month away; what would I do until then? My pockets were as empty as my belly, and I still had to pay back the building manager. 

“Samo, I need work now,” I said. “I’m out of cash.” 

He grunted. “Yeah, and don’t ask me for any loans; I’m strapped too. Okay, there’s a film starting up here now that could probably use someone. I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

“Thanks, Big Brother,” I said, genuinely grateful. “I’ll take it.” 

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“That’s another you owe me.” 

“I know. I know,” I said, my gratitude straining. “Who’s the director?” 

“Never heard of him,” said Big Bother. “He’s some new guy—name’s Woo.”

I’d never heard of him, either. 

I bet most of you have, though. Because today, John Woo is one of the most famous filmmakers ever to come out of Hong Kong—and now, one of the top directors in Hollywood. It’s funny how paths cross, and lives turn. John and I still talk once in a while, when we’re in Hollywood together. Both of us started at the bottom. Neither of us can believe where we are now. 

Like I said, it’s funny. 

But back then, on Hand of Death, well, we were still young and starting out. I enjoyed the film, and I enjoyed working with John. Though I’d originally expected just to do stunts, I ended up playing a supporting role in the film, and John even taught me a few things about what directing was all about. I’d never wanted to direct before, partly because most of the directors I’d worked with were incompetent. 

John was different: he knew what he was doing, even as a first-time filmmaker, and he had a vision. He didn’t fall asleep when action sequences were being filmed. He cared about every move, every stunt, every fight, as if he were performing them himself. He was kind and treated us well. If I ever did get the chance to direct, I realized, this was the kind of director I wanted to be. 

But that would come later. Much later. 

At that time, all I had to look forward to after the movie wrapped was months of hard work under Samo’s thumb. 

Welcome back, I said to myself. I hope you’re happy.

Actually, as it turns out, I was happy. Stunt work was still what I was best at, after all, and once I’d spent some time with Samo, I even got used to his shouting and his put-downs again. I’d lived with him most of my life, and we knew each other better than anybody. Working with him was like being a part of a machine, because he knew exactly what I was capable of, and I knew exactly what he was looking for. I probably could have been content that way if nothing changed for the rest of my life. But the world isn’t like that. 

Change is the only thing we can rely on in life. 

And so I should have probably expected that, just when I was getting settled back into a pattern, just when I was feeling secure again, everything would turn upside down. 

“What do you mean, there’s no work?” I said, as Samo flinched. It was rare that he reacted that way, so I knew he wasn’t just blowing smoke. 

Pag.186

“The studio isn’t doing so well right now,” he said. “Ever since Bruce died, well, it hurt Golden Harvest more than anyone else. They just canceled a lot of projects, you know. The trend is moving away from action—it’s all comedies now.”

I groaned. He was right. The slate had gotten thinner lately; more and more of the films Golden Harvest was releasing were coming from outside, cheap pickups of independent productions. Even though I’d been working pretty regularly, assisting Samo and doing the odd stunt job, the opportunities had gotten fewer and fewer. I was finding it hard to stay afloat. My confidence had been shaken after the disaster with Little Tiger, and it went down even further when Da Di went out of business. I’d always thought of myself as lucky, but maybe the truth was that I was bad luck—for everyone else. 

“What are you trying to tell me, Samo?” I said, hoping he wouldn’t say what I knew he’d have to say.

“I’m telling you we got problems,” he said. “Look, you gotta believe me, I’m giving you every gig I can find, and I know it isn’t enough. There ain’t much more I can do. Tell you the truth, I’m worried about my own job now….”

I leaned back in my chair. We were sitting in an office at Golden Harvest, looking up at a wall of pictures and memorabilia of past movies. Past glories. 

“What am I going to do?” I said. 

“What are any of us going to do?” he retorted. “If this keeps up, we’ll all be sleeping in the gutter. Hell, it’s probably getting crowded down there already; it ain’t as if we haven’t kicked out half the stuntmen who hang around here already. Listen, Little Brother—”

He looked at me, and his expression was serious. This wasn’t Samo and Yuen Lo stuff, our usual rivalry and bickering. This was Big Brother and Little Brother—heng dai. “You want to hear my advice? I think you should go back to your parents. You’re got your nice little Australian passport; you can go anytime you want. You get out now, and you’ll save yourself a lot of heartache. The rest of us don’t have that option. If the industry goes down, we’re going down with it.” 

I slumped down farther in my seat. He stood up and patted me on the shoulder, which was about as affectionate as he’d ever gotten with me. 

“Things have got to change sometime,” he said. “When they change, you can always come back. And with any luck, I’ll still be here. I’ll always be your Big Brother.” 

And he turned away and walked out of the room, a cloud of gloom following him as he went. 

Samo had given me good advice, but it was a painful mouthful to swallow. I’d told my dad I was here on a contract. I’d been here less than a year—I couldn’t tell him the contract was complete. And I couldn’t face 

Pag.187

him with an admission of my failure. After all I’d been through, I would rather have gone to work sweeping garbage than return to Australia with my head down. 

But I didn’t have any other skills, and I barely had enough money to eat for a week. I regretted ever coming back—if I’d stayed, I might have died of boredom, but at least I wouldn’t have died of shame. Or starvation. 

The walk back to my apartment was like torture; it seemed like the city was mocking me, with its signs of life and bustle, the money changing hands and businesses growing before my eyes. Hong Kong was expanding very fast at that time, turning into one of the world’s economic capitals. The irony left a bitter taste in my mouth. 

Once back at my flat, I collapsed onto my bedroll. Desperation had drained the energy from my body. I didn’t move even when I heard a gentle tapping sound. 

Someone was knocking at my door.   

                         

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had visitors; it didn’t sound like the building manager, or his granddaughter, and certainly not one of my stuntman friends. I considered whether there was anyone to whom I still owed money, and decided to take the chance of answering the knock anyway.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I’d see. 

Or rather, whom. 

“Oh Chang…” I said, choking. 

She was older, a little taller, more beautiful than ever, if that was possible. Dressed nicely, and wearing her hair and her makeup in the style of a young woman, not a girl. 

“Yuen Lo,” she said. 

I wanted to tell her I’d missed her, that I’d never thought I’d see her again, and that I’d still do anything to be with her. 

Instead I just stepped aside so she could enter the apartment. 

“You have a nice place,” she said. 

I looked at the rough, handmade furniture. The cracked pane in the window. My old bedroll on the floor. “It’s not much,” I said. 

“But it’s yours. That’s nice,” she said. 

Pulling my only chair out, I motioned for her to sit down. All the things I wanted to say were jumbled in my head. The only thing that I could get out was the word “How…?” 

Somehow, she understood. “I—I went to your studio looking for you. I met a friend of yours….He said you went home.”

I slumped down cross-legged on my bed. “I got out early today,” I said. 

She stood up, slowly walked over to where I was sitting, and then sat down on the bed next to me. Close enough that I could feel her warmth. 

“Yuen Lo, he told me about—about your problem,” she said softly. “I know how hard this must be for you. And I want you to know that—that I believe in you.” And she put her hand over mine. 

 Pag.188

 

I heard the sympathy—no, the pity—in her voice, and I couldn’t stand it. I pulled my hand away. 

“Believe in me?” I shouted. “Believe in nothing! Everything your father said is true! I’m just a poor stunt boy with no future, no job, and no right to be with someone as good as you.” 

She looked shocked, and then sad. “Yuen Lo, please don’t say that! You’re wonderful, and you’re talented, so very talented. You’ll succeed someday; it’s just—the time isn’t right yet…” 

“When will the time ever be right?” I said. “Oh Chang, what are you doing here? You should be on a stage in the spotlight, or out walking with someone rich and handsome, or at home, in your big house, with your parents. I’m leaving this stupid island, anyway. I don’t need your pity. I don’t need your kindness. I don’t need anything.”

 She looked at me with those lovely eyes, misted with tears. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

And she opened her purse, pulled out a package wrapped in tissue paper, and put it down on the bed.

We both stared at it for a while, without speaking. Then, trembling slightly, I reached for the package and unwrapped it. It was a stack of crisp, new bills, totaling HK$20,000. Half of what my entire apartment cost. 

I carefully wrapped it back up and then tossed it back down. 

“I can’t take this,” I said. 

A sudden fire lit up her eyes, and she spoke with a passion that I hadn’t ever heard before. “Yuen Lo, I know you don’t have any money. Even if you want to go back to your parents, how will you buy a ticket? Are you going to ask them to pay for you? Is that what you want?” 

Suddenly, tears ran down my cheeks. My parents, who’d worked so hard all their lives, and who were still working even though they were old—I couldn’t take the humiliation of begging them for money, and I couldn’t go back to them with failure written all over my face! Oh Chang understood my heart, even without having to be told. I knew at that moment that we could never be together, but that we’d always share something special. I reached out for her, and we embraced tightly, and—for just a moment—we kissed….

The moment passed, and she put the package back into my hands, pressing it lightly into my palms. “You can pay me back when you become rich and famous,” she said. “Because I know you will someday. I think it’s a good investment.” And she smiled, and the room brightened. 

Seized by emotion, I reached under my bedroll and pulled out my passport. “Oh Chang,” I said. “Go home and pack your bags. Come with me to Australia. My parents would love you, and I…I—”

Still smiling, she shook her head. “Yuen Lo, I can’t. My parents would miss me. But I’ll see you again, someday, won’t I?”

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I nodded. 

“And until then, remember me.” 

And she got up, walked to the door, and left, after blowing me another kiss good-bye.

Her scent hung in the air, sweet like the smell of a peach. Yes, I would remember her. 

Always.