On Thin Ice

Where Is Home

I woke up in the dark with a pounding headache. The rain had stopped with a hint of moonlight bleeding through the thick clouds. The alarm clock was flashing 4:13am next to what looked like two wine bottles on the bedside table, the cheap alcohol smell wafting in the stuffy air of the 3-star hotel room. I was alone in this strange room of this strange city.

I wanted to go home. But where was home? Not Beijing, not Guangzhou, not Xi'an where I grew up. I wanted to go home. But where was home?

I looked at the clock again. 4:15. The night was unbearably long, like an endless black tunnel that had swallowed me. I didn't know where I was going, when it was going to stop.

Stomach churning like a storm, I dashed to the bathroom. Dark red liquid that smelt revolting. I looked in the mirror. My face was pale, eyes puffy from the alcohol and tears, hair in dismay like a homeless drunk. I quickly turned the light off.

Inch by inch, the night was nudged away by the dawn, which appeared to be even more confronting. How do I face the day? What the fuck am I doing? I pulled up the cover over my head. I just wanted to disappear.

The traffic started to build up. People were talking loudly, luggage carts squealing down the corridor. The city was awake, ready for a new day. I hid deeper in bed.

All of a sudden there were rushed knocks on the door, which I ignored. Some more knocks and then the door opened. "Check out time! Remember you bought the early check out?" barked the middle-aged women in the uniform.

I did, I remembered, I planned a full day sight-seeing with Tian. Well, I assumed.

"20 minutes, please." I said weakly.

"10 minutes tops. The cleaner will be here." pressed the woman.

I waved my hand in resignation so she disappeared.

I dragged my feet for a few more minutes before bringing myself to throw everything in the suitcase. Before leaving, I buried my face in the sink to force out the hangover, the water harsh cold. I dried my face without looking in the mirror.

Sitting in the hall after the checkout, I could sense the stare from the staff at the reception. The couch was so inviting, despite being filthy and smelly. But I had to go. Where?

I tried to find my phone for some inspiration. Not in my pocket. Not in the backpack. I looked in the outside pocket of the suitcase. Nothing. I reached further into the pocket. Something brushed my fingertip. It was a passport. I got it last year with Gai when we planned to go on a tour in NZ. We didn't. He got busy at work.

The photo of me was unrecognizable. I was holding back a smile, looking hopeful. I quickly flipped over the page. The nz visa. I looked again. Expired on Feb 10th 2002, two weeks and a day from now.

I paused for a minute and took myself out of the hotel. I wandered on the street before stopping at a travel shop. I looked on the display window. Europe, Thailand, Singapore, Japan.....and at the far corner, New Zealand, land of the long white cloud – 7 nights for 10500rmb. Land of the long white cloud, at the other end of the world. That can't hurt. I walked in, despite a bit of a push. A young woman welcomed me with a beaming smile. When I asked about the trip, her grin widened, "Last chance!" she said, "One passenger pulled out the last minute so now it is 20% off. Leaving tonight."

Feeling confident, I took out my card. I wiped it carefully. It didn't work. I wiped again. Not sufficient funds. Damn!

The women gave a regretful look. I smiled apologetically. Just as I was walking out, she yelled from behind, "Wait wait! Did you say you cancelled a tour last year?"

"Yes." I turned around.

"Did you cancel it properly?"

"Properly?"

"Yes. Did you cancel it or hold it as well?"

"Not sure."

"Well, let's see. Xiao Lang......That's how you spell your name?" her jaw pointing to the typing.

"Yes." I said tentatively.

"Well, looks like the fee was paid by your partner to hold it for a year. You don't need to pay anything today!"

I looked at her face - freckled, innocent, warm, about my age. The tunnel that swallowed me opened up a little, there was a hint of light and breeze.

"Can I borrow a hair brush?" I asked with a meek smile, "It has been rough."