Chinese Okra - An Anthology

V. Sweetgum

In which a suspicious daughter spies on her widowed father from a backyard sweetgum tree, only to be confronted by a woman escort who raises questions about her father's activities when he's all alone.

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The scramble was no joke, but I pulled it off in the end, skillfully dodging those prickly fruits with just a short-sleeved sweater and a pair of mini-jeans. So here I am, perched on this sturdy sweetgum tree branch, binoculars at the ready, about to turn them into my personal sidekick. This covert mission has been long overdue.

Now, you might be wondering, what in the world is tonight's espionage mission all about? Am I not afraid that some kidnappers traffic me and sell my organs? Shouldn't I be hanging out with my friends instead of acting like a creep and spying on my own father? Am I not afraid that I will fall from this tree and have my arms broken once more, or worse, my neck?

Allow me to shed some light on the situation: it was a regular Friday night, a couple of days back, when Dad was silently munching his dinner at the kitchen counter, and I was casually scrolling through movies on the streaming platform. That's when Dad's phone buzzed on the nearby side table. The caller ID revealed an indecent name: MariaXXX.

And tonight, I'm playing detective, keeping a close eye on my father to see if he'll be entertaining any questionable company, thinking I'm out of the house. Before this, I spun a web of lies for Dad, claiming that I wanted to stay over at Tanisha's place. I even went the extra mile to make my fib look authentic by dressing up, putting on some light makeup, and carrying a few things in my bag, now hidden behind the sweetgum tree I'm perched on. I won't deny it, even though I've been climbing this tree since I was a kid, there are times when I still feel a bit lightheaded and dizzy, especially when I recall the two months I spent with a cast on my arm when I was ten or eleven. But despite that, this spot remains my favorite hideout.

And now, this very spot I'd call my second home will serve as my lookout point to spy on my father, who's currently enjoying a cold can of beer on the couch, phone in hand.

I wait for what feels like an eternity, trying to fight off boredom while texting Tanisha about this whole situation without letting my guard down, fighting off the biting air and the occasional bugs lurking on my body. Finally, my patience pays off when I spot Dad answering a phone call. Although I can't hear his words, the way he suppresses a smile and hastily sets down his beer gives me all the clues I need to deduce that the person on the other end is someone who brings him joy.

Now, what could possibly bring happiness to a sad, widowed, and lonely spouse? Well, let's not beat around the bush here.

Escorts. Who doesn't enjoy the company of escorts, right? Especially if you have the money to afford them.

And Dad? Dad has them.

And sure enough, a few winding minutes later, the said-and-suspected escort arrives, just as I'm struggling to watch some funny YouTube videos while trying to maintain my balance and giggling at the same time. While part of me convinces myself that observing through my binoculars is sufficient to quench my curiosity, I can't help but crave more information when I see that provocatively dressed woman embrace my dad, going as far as letting him peck her cheek for more than two seconds!

"You did not just hire a sex worker, Dad!" I seethe, gritting my teeth in disgust, my nails digging into the binoculars, turning my knuckles white. Despite the boiling anger inside me, I manage to compose myself and remind myself to stay level-headed. All I can do now is watch with mounting fury as the seductive woman timidly takes hold of my father's wrist and guides him towards the upstairs bedroom, the curtains of which I had conveniently left open before "leaving." The bright lights fade into momentary darkness, only to be replaced by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, transforming the somber room into a more intimate ambiance—a setting fit for a one-night stand.