Hong Kong! Read online

  From the look on her face and her posture, Alfie could tell that Ying regretted carelessly tossing her orange. If she had wished to do well in the parade, and she believed in the wishing tree, then she probably believed her dance was doomed.

  “Maybe we should make one more stop,” Aunt Chan said. “I know there’s a lot to do to prepare the restaurant for opening but . . . this is important.”

  She looked to Uncle Wu, who seemed to know what she was thinking. He nodded yes. “If one Buddha is good, then ten thousand should be even better.” He looked to Alfie and Emilia. “What do you think? Would you like to see them?”

  Alfie and Emilia looked at each other and then at Ying. If going to see the Buddhas meant good luck and it would make Aunt Chan and Uncle Wu happy, then of course they’d go. “Yes,” they replied together.

  Knowing Ying felt terrible about the wishing tree, Alfie and Emilia stayed close to her on the way to the temple. None of them spoke, and it was a quiet bus ride.

  Alfie didn’t actually believe there would be ten thousand Buddhas in one place. It seemed impossible. But he was starting to learn that Hong Kong was full of surprises.

  “We’re headed to the Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery, or Man Fat Tsz,” Uncle Wu explained as the bus made its way up a hill. “It’s one of Hong Kong’s most famous Buddhist temples, and one of its most popular tourist attractions.”

  When they arrived at the temple, they started up the steps—four hundred, the sign said—on a narrow stone path with a low red wall. Propped along the wall were bronze Buddha statues, all seated, all life-size, and each with a different expression on its face. It went on and on, but Alfie didn’t mind the climb—he was too busy looking at the faces: one played a flute, another had a long, thin beard; some were bald, some had curly hair; one was screaming, one was laughing, and another looked worried. It was incredible.

  As they walked farther into the grounds, they realized that there weren’t really ten thousand Buddhas in this place—there were more.

  The walls inside the temple were lined top to bottom with shelves filled with miniature Buddhas. There had to be thousands in that room alone. Back outside on the grounds, there was one giant golden Buddha who had over a thousand arms. One rode on top of a blue dragon-like creature, another sat atop some serpent-like creature. It really was one of the most amazing things Alfie had ever seen.

  They all climbed to the top of the nine-floor pagoda to take in the view of the mountains behind them and the city below them.

  “This has been amazing,” Alfie said. “Thank you for showing it to us.”

  “Now, who feels like opening a restaurant?” Uncle Wu said. They all started back down the hill for the Golden Lion. Alfie hoped that all they’d done and seen this morning would help make it the best opening in restaurant history.

  When they got to the Golden Lion, everyone snapped into action. Aunt Chan and Uncle Wu asked the chef and waiters to get the kitchen ready. And they asked Ying, Alfie, and Emilia to help as well. Alfie was in charge of folding the napkins and Emilia helped with chopping vegetables. Aunt Chan told Ying she had to wipe down the tables. Alfie hadn’t seen her work so quickly since he and Emilia arrived. She kept checking the clock above the stove, and Alfie knew she was thinking about rehearsing her performance.

  Finally, everything was set and it was time. Aunt Chan flipped the switch on the sign outside, and Uncle Wu unlocked and opened the front door. “We’re open!” they said.

  “Congratulations!” The family members who had been at dinner the night of Alfie and Emilia’s arrival streamed into the restaurant. There were hugs and handshakes, and then the waiter showed everyone to a table in the middle of the restaurant.

  But then they waited.

  “It’s still a bit early in the lunch hour,” Uncle Wu said to Aunt Chan. “They’ll come. I know it.”

  “Yes, yes,” Aunt Chan said, with a nervous look on her face.

  Just as Alfie started to think that maybe Emilia’s sweeping and Ying’s wishing-tree miss might have had some effect on the restaurant, two customers walked in.

  “Welcome!” Aunt Chan said excitedly, rushing over to them. “Let me show you to a table. We’ll bring out some tea right away.”

  The waiter took over from Aunt Chan and handed the couple menus. Soon, there was a steady stream of customers. Alfie helped clear tables and Emilia refilled water glasses.

  Once the last lunch customer had been served, Aunt Chan said she was going to run out to the market to pick up some extra vegetables for dinner. “I have a feeling Mrs. Liu is coming tonight, so I want to make sure we’re well stocked.”

  “Everything is under control here,” Uncle Wu said. “You go on.”

  Apparently Ying saw this as an opportunity as well.

  “Hey, Alfie,” she whispered. She stood just inside the back door, motioning for Alfie to follow her. “Listen,” she said. “I want to head out for rehearsal as soon as I can. Will you cover for me?”

  “Your parents want you here,” he said.

  “I know,” she said, “but lunch is over, and Mother is gone. And the cook and the waiter are still here. I’ll be back long before dinner.”

  He knew how important her lion dance was—he could see it when he watched her rehearse with Ju—but the restaurant was important to her parents, and he didn’t think she should do anything to upset them.

  Apparently Ying could see the hesitation in his eyes. “Alfie . . .”

  “I’ll help you.” Emilia had appeared from behind them. “Go on. I’ll cover for you.”

  “Thank you, Emilia!” Ying said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  Ying was out the door before Alfie could speak another word.

  “I don’t know, Emilia,” Alfie said, “this doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “You’re becoming as superstitious as the rest of them,” Emilia said.

  Just as the last lunch customer left and Ying was probably walking through the gym doors, Uncle Wu raced into the kitchen, “She’s here! Mrs. Liu is here!”

  “Wait, seriously?” Alfie said. “Why has she shown up so late?” Maybe this was one of her ways of testing restaurants.

  The cook and waiter were about to leave. Uncle Wu turned to them and said, “With Aunt Chan gone, I’ll need you to stay and help. We need to make a good impression.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” Emilia said coolly. “Alfie and I can help as well.”

  Uncle Wu nodded and looked around. “Where is Ying?”

  “Well,” Emilia began. “Um . . .”

  Uncle Wu turned to Emilia and said, “She didn’t leave, did she?” Emilia and Alfie stayed silent. “Are you telling me she left to go to the gym?” He shook his head. “That girl. If her mother was here . . .”

  “We need to worry about Mrs. Liu right now,” Emilia said. Alfie was glad she took the attention off Ying.

  “You’re right,” Uncle Wu said. “I’m angry with Ying, but the most important thing now is looking after Mrs. Liu.”

  Mrs. Liu sat primly in the center of the restaurant, eyeing every inch of the space around her. A notebook and pen sat on the table in front of her.

  “Welcome to the Golden Lion,” Uncle Wu said, approaching her table with a menu. “I hope you are well—we have some tea for you on its way.”

  “Yes, I have been waiting,” Mrs. Liu said.

  The waiter rushed out of the kitchen with a pot and teacup on a tray, which he set down on the table with trembling hands. Uncle Wu poured tea into the cup.

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Liu said. She took a sip and pursed her lips. “Not very hot, is it?”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Uncle Wu said. “We will get you another.” The waiter dashed back into the kitchen.

  “Let me tell you about our dishes,” Uncle Wu said with a smile. “All of our fish was caught just this mor
ning. We have a wonderful grouper prepared with chili and soy sauce, a lightly fried squid seasoned with just a little salt and pepper, and mantis shrimp cooked with a hint of chili. Please take your time to look over the menu—”

  “I’ll start with hot-and-sour cabbage and an order of shrimp dumplings with no pork.”

  “Wonderful,” Uncle Wu said. “We’ll get that started while you look at the rest of this—”

  “No, I know what I want.” Looking at the menu, she said, “Bring me an order of your stir-fried grouper filet. The beef with oyster sauce. And then . . .” She closed the menu, pulled off her glasses and looked thoughtfully at Uncle Wu. “I’m in the mood for razor clams. I know they’re not on the menu, but I’d love some. Feel free to cook them however you’d like.” She smiled and handed the menu back to Uncle Wu.

  From the kitchen Alfie could see the panic in Uncle Wu’s eyes. But unfazed, he said, “Of course. Whatever you want. Your tea will be right out.”

  “I hope so,” Mrs. Liu replied. She dusted an invisible spot on the table.

  Uncle Wu rushed into the kitchen. “I can’t believe the biggest meal of our lives is upon us and none of my family is here,” Uncle Wu said, looking around the kitchen. “I can’t leave the restaurant. And I don’t want to send the cook or waiter to go get razor clams—that will just make it look like we’re unprepared.”

  “We’re here,” Alfie said. “Let us help.”

  “I’m going to have to see if Aunt Chan can go get some razor clams,” Uncle Wu said with a sigh. He grabbed the phone on the wall and dialed. After listening for a moment, he slowly hung up. “Straight to voice mail. This is a disaster!” He looked at everyone in the kitchen. “Emilia, can you help the cook and waiter with whatever they need?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “And Alfie,” Uncle Wu said. He looked at Alfie carefully, closely. “The biggest task of all. I know we can get some razor clams at the Aberdeen Fish Market. Will you go get them for me?”

  “Yes,” Alfie said without a second thought, even though he had no idea where the market was or what razor clams looked like.

  “Here’s money for a cab,” Uncle Wu said, digging cash out of his pocket. “Tell the driver where you want to go and ask him to wait for you. It’ll cost extra, but it’s no problem. Then race in and get those clams—get ten of them, just in case. Can you do this?”

  “Yes, I can,” Alfie said, hoping it was true.

  “Okay,” Uncle Wu said. “Off you go.”

  In just ten minutes the cab flew across Hong Kong Island to the south side where the city’s largest market, Aberdeen Fish Market, was located. When they pulled up Alfie asked the driver to wait for him, just as Uncle Wu had instructed.

  The market was a huge warehouse right on the edge of the water. Boats could easily unload their day’s catches and haul them into the open space, where buyers walked down the wet cement floors and inspected all kinds of freshly caught fish laid out in plastic buckets. Alfie wasn’t sure where to begin—he sped down one aisle, then another, looking for what might be razor clams. Through the wide open doors he saw a boat pull up to the dock, and decided to run out and see what that fisherman had—and if he could get it fresh off the boat.

  At Sai Kung he got a feeling of peaceful, rural fishing; here it was the noise of motorboats and people hauling gear and yelling out prices. The chaos made Alfie feel the pressure to hurry up and pick something.

  One fisherman was an elderly man in a green bamboo hat sitting patiently in his boat, and something about him relaxed Alfie.

  “Do you need fresh fish?” the man asked as Alfie approached him.

  “The freshest,” Alfie said. “Do you have any razor clams?”

  The man nodded. “I do. Caught some this morning. But I just now got back from catching scallops. Freshest in the entire market. They’re still alive in their shells. See?” He showed Alfie the blue plastic bucket the scallops were in.

  The shells were like what Alfie might find on a beach—white and fan-shaped. He looked more closely at the barely open shell. “What are the bright blue circles?” Alfie asked.

  “The eyes,” the man said. “Haven’t you ever seen fresh scallops before?”

  Alfie raised his eyebrows. “No.”

  “Is this for your family?” the man asked.

  “Family restaurant,” Alfie said. “But it’s for this one very particular customer.”

  “I see,” the man said. “Well, I can sell you the clams and the scallops if you like.”

  Alfie counted the money Uncle Wu had given him. With the cab fare back, he realized could only afford one. When he told the fisherman this, the man said, “They’re both good. You don’t need to worry about that. How picky is this customer?”

  “The pickiest, toughest eater ever,” Alfie said.

  “A true Hong Kong diner can tell the difference between just-caught and hours-ago-caught seafood. We like our seafood fresh here. Otherwise, what’s the point of living on the water?”

  Alfie pictured Mrs. Liu’s face, scolding Uncle Wu for either serving hours-old seafood if Alfie bought the clams, or for not giving the customer what she wanted if he bought the extremely fresh scallops. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he had to make a decision, and quickly.

  He pointed to the seafood he thought would most impress Mrs. Liu. “I’ll take those, please,” he said.

  The man nodded and bagged them up. Alfie handed over the money.

  “Thanks so much!” Alfie said as he turned to leave. “You may have just saved a restaurant!”

  • • •

  The cab came to a screeching halt outside the Golden Lion. Before he went inside, Alfie took deep breaths to calm down. He went around to the back door and entered the kitchen.

  “Just in time,” Uncle Wu said to Alfie as he put the bag on the counter. “The other dishes will be ready in a minute.”

  Emilia raced over to him. “Did you get the razor clams?”

  Alfie didn’t answer, butterflies filling his stomach as Uncle Wu looked into the bag.

  “What is this?” Uncle Wu said. He held the seafood Alfie had scored in his hand. “These are scallops. She specifically said razor clams.”

  “Alfie,” Emilia began, looking at the scallops then back at him. To Uncle Wu she said, “Maybe he didn’t know the difference.”

  “No, listen,” Alfie said. Suddenly his confidence disappeared. “The fisherman just caught these. He said they’d be fresher than the clams.” Uncle Wu and Emilia stood staring at him with disbelieving eyes. “She’s going to love them—more than the razor clams. I’m sure of it,” he added, although he had no idea. Alfie realized he’d taken a huge risk.

  Uncle Wu looked around the kitchen as if a better answer might present itself. But none did. “Okay. They only take a few minutes to cook. I’ll just sear them with a bit of garlic and ginger.” He ran his hand over his face. “I’ll explain to Mrs. Liu that we just got this in and didn’t want to serve it to anyone but her. Hopefully she’ll be okay with it.”

  Uncle Wu got to work on the scallops. Alfie and Emilia watched as he used a dull straight knife to pop open each shell, then ran that knife along the bottom of the scallop to release it. It was covered with a bunch of slimy stuff, which Uncle Wu scraped and peeled away. He sautéed the scallops with the other ingredients, and when he was satisfied that they were perfectly cooked, the waiter helped him carry all three entrées out to Mrs. Liu. They carefully set the dishes in front of her on the table.

  “I have a special surprise for you,” Uncle Wu said. “We were lucky enough to get these fresh scallops just now from the market. These were caught less than an hour ago, and were alive just minutes ago. You won’t find a fish more beautiful than this in all of Hong Kong.”

  “Scallops?” Mrs. Liu looked at the plate suspiciously. “What about my razo
r clams? I asked specifically for that.”

  “Yes, I understand,” Uncle Wu said. “I didn’t think you’d care for them—they were caught this morning.”

  “I see,” Mrs. Liu said. “So you know what I want more than I do? I guess I’ll just have to taste what you’ve served here. Thank you,” she added curtly. Uncle Wu nodded and quietly stepped away.

  Everyone watched anxiously from the kitchen as she took a bite of the scallop dish, and then another. She scribbled a note in her notebook then took another bite. She tasted the other dishes as well, adding more notes to her notebook. Suddenly she motioned toward the back and Uncle Wu went right over. Alfie and Emilia watched as Uncle Wu bowed his head and took the half-eaten plates of food away.

  “What’d she say?” Emilia asked as he came through the kitchen.

  His face looked stricken. “She said she was finished.” He put the plates of food on the counter.

  They all guessed what that meant: Mrs. Liu was unhappy with the food and would surely write a negative review. Alfie felt sick to his stomach.

  “Hello, I’m back,” a voice called. They turned to see Aunt Chan come in through the back entrance with bags full of fresh produce. “Did I miss anything?”

  Uncle Wu turned ash white. “Mrs. Liu—she’s just finishing her meal.”

  Aunt Chan froze. “She’s here? Why didn’t you call me? How is it going? Is she pleased with her meal?”

  Uncle Wu’s slumped shoulders said it all. He sighed and said, “I’m afraid not. She requested razor clams—”

  “Razor clams?” Aunt Chan said. “Those aren’t on the menu. Did you go to the market to get some?”

  It wasn’t until now that Alfie started to think that maybe these adventures Zia sent them on were too tough on his heart. It was pounding so hard he was sure it was going to burst out of his chest.

  “It’s my fault,” Alfie said. “I didn’t get the right—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Uncle Wu said. “She barely ate any of the dishes. I can only assume what she thought of them.”