The First Excellence: Fa-Ling's Map by Donna Carrick Read Free Book Online Page A

mirror. It had been awhile…
    She opened Michael’s shirt and ran her fingers over a nipple, amazed at how quickly it responded. She slid her other hand into her underwear and felt the rush. Michael’s face flashed into her mind, but was soon replaced by Randy’s flirting smile. It would be nice to be touched by someone who was so happy and confident. She fantasised that Randy was never clumsy, that his hands would know exactly how to tease her body. It was easy to imagine the most attractive qualities being possessed by a stranger. After all, it is only when we come to know each other that our human frailties get in the way.
    Fa-ling closed her eyes and bit her lip. Then without warning Randy’s image disappeared from her mind. She tried to recall his laughing eyes, but another, more familiar face rose to take its place, a pair of black eyes glinting with malice over teeth as crooked and foul as a jack-o’-lantern’s.
    Hello, Xiao, she thought. Thanks loads for dropping in. Fighting back a wave of frustration, she sighed, straightened herself and her music, and then reached once again for her clarinet. She played until she no longer felt the discontent in her soul.
    Exhausted at last, Fa-líng dismantled her instrument, cleaning each piece before setting it into its place. She was surprised to notice the faint music and chanting continued next door. It sounded like the same melody she’d heard hours earlier. The man’s voice was still chanting along to the music.
    The noise coming through the wall wasn’t loud, but it had been a long day. The repetitive sound set Fa-ling’s nerves on edge. She knew it would keep her awake and she needed the escape only dreams could offer. She longed for physical release, but couldn’t face another imaginary encounter with Xiao. Instead she fixed her IPod’s earphones in place and climbed into bed. With Green Day rocking softly in her head, she was dreaming in no time.

TEN
     
    Tang carried only one small case into the hotel. In his thirty-five years, he had never been a guest in a place like the Golden Lion. The bell-boy gave him a scornful look when he tried to turn on the lights, at last condescending to show him how to slide the passkey into the slot to turn on the room’s electricity.
    Tang didn’t really care about the lights or the air-conditioning. He would have been equally happy to sit in the heat and gathering darkness. It was a marvel, though, how the thing worked, and he tried it a few times, sliding the plastic card in and out of the slot and watching the lights turn on and off.
    When he tired of that he removed his shoes, taking care to hang up his good shirt and pants before entering the room in his underwear. His cotton whites had seen better days, but his socks were new. He’d bought them especially for the trip, carefully doling out his Yuan on a few small necessities and hoarding a secret pleasure over each expenditure.
    Tang had packed little. On his sister’s instructions he carried almost no money, just enough to cover the night’s stay. Dinner in the elegant hotel restaurant was out of the question.
    There were things at stake that were far more important than food. Besides, Tang knew how to minimize the pain of hunger.
    He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. Knowing government agents had the ability to track cell phone usage, he had not used his phone in months, but he turned it on before arriving at the hotel. His sister might need to reach him. He checked the battery strength and noticed he had missed an incoming call. Although he did not have voice-mail, Tang knew the call was from his sister. He dialled her number from memory, confirmed his arrival in a few hurried words and put the phone back inside his bag.
    He then unpacked three things and laid them carefully on the wood veneer of the coffee table: a fat yellow pillar candle that was already half used up; a battery operated tape player with a cassette inside; and a small brass