Page 54 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner
P. 54
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He sipped his coffee without speaking, as though trying to summon some
new strength. At last he put the cup down and looked her squarely in the eyes.
‘Wanda,’ he said. ‘Wanda, you are my only daughter, and, as a good Chinese
woman brought up in love and respect for her parents, I must make a fatherly
demand of you.’
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She laughed. ‘Come on, Dad. You don’t even speak Cantonese. You’re third
generation American, and the nearest you ever got to bringing me up as a good
Chinese girl was the parties we had at New Year.’
‘Don’t mock me, little oily mouth,’ he began, aggressively.
‘Father,’ she laughed again. ‘You’ve been reading too many James Clavell
novels. Little oily mouth indeed. You’ll start talking of secret stalks in a
minute.’
His hand flashed up as he leant forward, slapping her hard across the face. It
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was the first time she could remember his striking her and she was furious,
rising and stepping away from him. ‘Enough!’ she commanded. ‘Out! Out of my
apartment.’
But her father stood his ground. ‘You will obey your father. It is our way, our
heritage,’ he shouted, his face suddenly crimson. ‘You will do as I say. You
hear me?’
Wanda stepped away from him, her cheek still smarting from the blow and
her mind battered with anger. But, staring wide-eyed at her father, anxiety
began to seep through her fury. This was not the father she remembered from
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childhood. This man was deeply disturbed, pushed past his limit, on the verge
of greater violence.
Had Wanda not been such an intelligent young woman, with a discipline
honed by her Navy service, she might have thrown her father out then and there
in an hysterical outburst. But in spite of the outrage she felt, the cool, still
centre of her being, developed during her long training, overcame the more
natural emotions. Wanda took a deep breath and when she spoke it was with a
new equilibrium. ‘Father, what is it? Something’s very wrong. Tell me and
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maybe we can work something out.’
It was as though this sign of compassion hit Tony like some sudden
revelation. She saw her father’s face collapse, then he folded over, doubling
up like a man in pain. When he straightened himself again, his eyes brimmed
with tears and his shoulders quivered.
Wanda went to him, enfolded him in her arms and gently helped him to a
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