A Romantic Ghost Story, Page 2

  Her uncle began wiping the counter with a cloth. “Are you meeting Steven today after work to finalize your wedding?”

  “Yes,” she said, even though she had absolutely no intention of meeting Steven that day, or any other day.

  “Good,” he said. “He’s a good boy. His father had known yours for ages. Steven is a fine farmer and he’d make a good husband. He’ll take good care of you.”

  She nodded mechanically, but inside, she knew why he wanted to marry her off to Steven. Steven was a prosperous farmer and was paying her uncle a large sum of money as a wedding gift. In a way, her uncle was selling her off to Steven. And there was nothing she could do about it.

  He reached into his pocket and took out a couple bills. He counted out $20. “Here you go. Your pay for the day.”

  She stared at it incredulously. “That’s it? $20?”

  “Business has been slow these days,” her uncle lied. “That’s all I can afford to pay you.”

  She couldn’t believe it. She knew that her uncle had lots of money, because he owned several teahouses and they were all reporting record business. He even made the local paper as Businessman of the Year. Reports even interviewed him.

  She was tempted to argue with him, but she decided not to. It would have been a stupid idea to piss off her only source of income.

  “Can I play for the customers now?”

  Her uncle gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Sure, but I don’t know why you bother. Music doesn’t really draw in the crowds.”

  She ignored his comment, even though she knew he was right, for now anyway.

  She climbed onto the mini-stage in front of the counter and spoke into the microphone. “Hi everyone. I’m Nancy and it’s time for my daily performance. This song is called Beyond the White Clouds.”

  She picked up her guitar Lucy from the podium and began to play. Sweet, serene notes were born from her instrument. When she played music, she was lost in a blissful world of ecstasy. All worldly concerns - her greedy cheapskate uncle, her boring fiancé, her desire to leave her dead-end home country for a better life, her desire to chase her dreams - all vanished when she surrendered herself to the intoxicating sound of music. In a way, music saved her. It comforted her after her parents’ deaths. It was all she really had.

  When she was done, she felt a sense of deep satisfaction and a sense of high. She barely noticed the sparsely-populated teahouse and the scattered applause.

  The one who applauded the loudest was the music producer Mark.

  He went up to her. “Great piece, Nancy. Really emotional.”

  She got off the stage. “Thank you.”

  He lowered his voice, sounding very serious. “Listen, I don’t mean to be too forward, but I see a great deal of potential in you. Are you interested in touring in America, with me as your agent and producer? I have connections. I can smuggle you into America with a fake passport.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. This was her dream, after all, but her uncle was right. She had to be wary of strange, suave men.

  He realized that perhaps he had been too straightforward. He reached into his pocket and took out a business card.

  “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “I’m staying at the Orchid Hotel tonight. Think about my offer and come see me if you decide you want to go.”

  She took the card. It read Mark Dupre, Music Producer, JWC Records.

  Without another word, the man turned around and left the teahouse.

  Deep in thought, she wasn’t paying attention when she stumbled off the stage and fell onto the wooden floors, knocking off some teacups from a table beside her in the process.

  Her uncle rushed over, but instead of helping her off, he picked up the broken teacups.

  He towered over Nancy, who was still lying in pain on the floor.

  He shook his big head. “I told you not to talk to strangers.” He pointed at the broken teacups. “These are coming right out of your salary.”

  He reached into her pocket and took the two ten-dollar bills that he had given her.

  Nancy lay on the floor, clutching her aching ribs.

  ***

  Later that evening, when the sun had set, Nancy returned to her one-bedroom apartment, which was more like a dilapidated shack. The electricity wasn’t working, so she was forced to sit on her couch in the dark.

  She thought about her current financial situation. Her stingy uncle had ripped her off. Again. Her rent was late. This time, she was sure her landlord wouldn’t be so generous. After all, rental investment was a business, not a charity.

  She thought about accepting Mark’s offer. She had nothing to live for in Macedonia. She had a dead-end job, a fiancé who just wanted a trophy wife, and no future. She had nothing to lose.

  But still, something was stopping her. Something was keeping her from leaving. Maybe it was because change was hard. Maybe it was because she was used to the simple life in the countryside. Maybe because she was scared to pursue her dreams.

  A knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts.

  She opened the door.

  It was Steven, her farmer fiancé. He was 35 years old, but was already wrinkly and tanned from spending all day in the sun.

  Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into her apartment. “I’m so happy to see you, baby. Spending all day toiling in the sun really makes me think of you.”

  “I’m not feeling well tonight, Steven. I think I want to be alone.”

  “Non-sense,” he said. “We’re practically husband and wife now. Let me make you feel better.”

  With that, he started groping her body, running his dirty hands all over her shapely chest and curvy hips.

  Nancy stepped back. “No, stop, Steven. I mean it.”

  He ignored her. “Come on, baby doll. We’re almost married. God doesn’t care if we do it.” As an afterthought, he added, “I’ll make you feel real good.”

  She batted his arms away, but like insistent bees, they kept coming.

  “Stop it, Steven!” she shouted.

  “Oh god, you are so hot, Nancy.”

  He was now leaning so close that she could feel his rancid breath on her cheeks. It smelled of beer and cigarettes.

  One hand was now on her breast. He gave it a squeeze and that was when Nancy got mad. She slapped his face so that that if they weren’t in the dark, she would have seen a deep crimson mark.

  He glared at her, but remained calm. “You’re going to regret that. I’m telling your uncle.”

  He turned around and ran out of the apartment.

  Nancy’s exhausted legs gave way and she collapsed onto her torn couch. She was breathing so hard that she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

  She rested a while and stood up.

  I’m going to find that American music producer, she thought. I have nothing to lose.

  ***

  She arrived in town at the Orchid Hotel and was led to Mark’s room on the second floor.

  She knocked on the door.

  Mark opened it with a wide smile. “I had a feeling I’d see you tonight.”

  It was raining and Nancy was soaking wet.

  Mark noticed and invited her in.

  After handing her a towel, he sat down on the bed and watched as she dried her hair.

  This girl could be it, he thought. I hope my boss will be very happy with her. I wonder how much we could sell her for.

  After she dried her hair, she tossed the towel onto the chair beside the TV.

  A round of lightning illuminated Nancy’s sweet face. Her tousled hair and her pink cheeks made her beauty shine through. Mark was mesmerized.

  Nancy stood in front of Mark, feeling a little weird. She was about to embark on the most important journey of her life. This was her dream, for the love of God! She had wanted this so badly, ever since she could remember.

  “I’ve decided to accept your offer,” she said.

  Mark grinned. “That’s great.” r />
  “You can handle all the legal stuff?”

  “Oh yeah. Leave the passports and everything else to me.”

  A silence permeated the room. It was the pause you experience before starting something new. The anticipation, the wonderment, the excitement.

  Nancy tossed her long dark hair behind her shoulders. “This is crazy.”

  “Chasing a dream is always crazy,” Mark replied. “We leave tonight. This is it. You’re going to be big. We’re going to set you up with all the record executives, sign you to a music label and start your career. You’re going to be rich and famous.”

  Nancy stared at the man in pajamas.

  He was right, she thought. Chasing a dream is always crazy, but always worth it. She wasn’t even thinking about the wealth and fame. More importantly, she just wanted to share her music with the world. Touch others. Move others. Make others feel better with her music, just like what music had done for her, in her hour of need.

  Excitement coursed through her as she digested what she was about to do. Her stomach turned over. She was going to leave behind everything that was familiar to her: the teahouse, her uncle, the fiancé, everything.

  All to chase her dream in America, the land of freedom and opportunity. She imagined what singing on stage in front of thousands of adoring fans would be like.

  The thought put a gigantic smile on her face.

  ***

  Chapter 2

  72 grueling hours later, Nancy arrived in the port city of Qingdao, China. An agent had smuggled her out of Macedonia. She, along with a rag-tag crew of refugees and migrants, had traveled nonstop on a small rickety plane, then a lumbering, creaky train and finally a dilapidated school bus, until they finally arrived in China.

  Now, as Nancy stared out at the dark stormy vastness of the East China Sea, she wasn’t so sure this had been a good idea.

  She stared at her fellow travelers. They were all poor farmhands, servants, refugees, migrants, poor young peasant men and women – all with dreams of making it big. Like her, they were all aspiring to a better life.

  A chilly wind whipped her long dark hair, but she wasn’t cold. Instead, she was numb to the elements, after having traveled nonstop for the past two days. She didn’t even feel the icy rain spilling down sloppily from the sooty sky.

  A thunderous rumble from above would have drawn Nancy’s attention in another life, but it was nothing compared to the rumble in her stomach. She had had nothing but bread and barely enough water for the duration of the journey so far. To say she was starving would have been an understatement.

  Her face and body smudged with dirt, her stiff back aching with pain, her entire body caked in sweat, she felt and looked like a poor beggar girl, rather than a future music superstar.

  The group of refugees stood by the wobbly harbor, waiting for instructions from another agent. As the tall man gathered his thoughts, the crowd whispered among themselves.

  Where are we?

  Would we make it across the stormy East China Sea and then the Pacific Ocean?

  What would America be like?

  Would She welcome us with open arms? Or would She ignore and reject us?

  Something’s fishy here. Why didn’t our agent/smuggler accompany us on our journey?

  Nancy had the same question. Why hadn’t Mark accompanied her on this arduous journey? In her haste and excitement to leave, she hadn’t considered how suspicious it was when Mark told her that an agent would smuggle her out of the country. Then, he would meet her in Los Angeles, California.

  He had given her all the requirements legal documents, such as a passport, and a phone number in case she got lost.

  Now, as she stood on the pier and gazed out at the angry waves duking it out with the frantic rain, she already felt lost.

  Their leader, a tall Chinese man, raised a hand for silence.

  “Alright,” he barked out in broken English. “You listen to me now. In a minute, we will board the boat.” He pointed to the small, flimsy fishing boat that rocked in the troubled waters. “And in a couple of days, we will land in Los Angeles, USA.”

  A couple of days? Nancy was beginning to feel that she hadn’t thought this through. For a minute, she considered backing out. Why had she trusted Mark? He was a total stranger. Even though she felt trapped and suffocated back in her tiny village, at least it was home. It was familiar. She was even beginning to miss her slave master uncle and working at his teahouse.

  The crowd began boarding the boat in a single file.

  Nancy’s knees grew weak. Her strength had been sucked out of her.

  What if the boat sank in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?

  But there was no time to back out now. If she didn’t leave with the group, she would be stuck in a foreign country: China.

  She took another look at the rocky fishing boat.

  I can do this, she thought to herself. I can be brave and chase my dreams. I promised my mom that.

  She thought of the sun and heat and glamour of Hollywood, California.

  At that thought, she slowly regained her strength.

  She thought about all her dreams coming true in America. She imagined herself performing her songs on stage with her guitar like Taylor Swift, in front of a sold-out and enthusiastic audience.

  Her strength was coming back faster.

  Most importantly, she thought about touching the world with her music, maybe even healing it. Music saved her in her hour of need when she lost her mother. Maybe it could save the world too.

  Her strength had returned full circle.

  Summoning all her courage, she gripped her sole possession, her guitar Lucy, tightly in her hands and then stepped onto the creaky boat.

  The agent did one last inspection and then signaled for the boat began her thousand-mile journey.

  ***

  Nancy hadn’t realized she had fallen asleep but when she woke up, it was still dark.

  She nudged the Asian girl next to her. “Is it tomorrow?”

  The Asian nodded.

  The sea air made Nancy feel like vomiting. Hunger pangs attacked her stomach.

  Again, she wondered where Mark was. When he sold her on the idea of leaving for America and becoming a world-famous star, she thought that she would at least travel comfortably.

  She whispered to the Asian girl, “How did you get on here?”

  The Asian girl brushed her long hair out of her face. “Some music producer called Mark promised to smuggle me to America and make me a big star.”

  She looked resigned as she pointed to the tall Chinese man. “Then I found out what we’re really on this boat for. We’re being sold as sex slaves in America. It’s all a part of this huge international sex trafficking ring. I overheard that guy talking loudly in Mandarin Chinese. He was counting heads and calculating how much he could make off each one of us.”

  With wide eyes, Nancy pulled out her passport and the paper with Mark’s phone number written on it.

  She showed them to the Asian girl. “Is this all….”

  “Fake,” her travel companion said. “I got one too.”

  She pulled out an identical passport and a piece of paper with the same number written on it.

  Nancy looked around her. She noticed that most of the refugees on the boat with her were pretty young girls.

  Nancy’s stomach churned when her suspicion was confirmed. Her gut had told her all along that this was all too good to be true.

  At that moment, her entire being filled with dread. So all this had been a lie. Mark was smuggling attractive young ladies from poor countries as sex slaves in rich ones. He had lied right to her face. He had lured her away from her home, promising to make all her dreams come true.

  She stared out into the murky horizon. She could not believe she had been lied to. Even worse, she could not believe that she had stupidly fallen for such a lie.

  “Then why don’t we escape?” she asked.

  The Asian girl look
ed at her like she was an idiot. “We’re in the middle of the Pacific Ocean here. Where do we escape to?”

  Nancy opened her mouth and then shut it. Her fellow passenger was right. There was nothing out there but the open sea.

  The Asian girl softened her tone. “We’re being taken to a place called Seattle, Washington. Once we get to land, we can figure something out.”

  She gave Nancy a reassuring squeeze on the hand.

  For a moment, Nancy felt better. If they were being trafficked, at least there were others with her. There was strength in number.

  Her uplifted mood lasted for all but a minute.

  The storm from the night before had not let up.

  In fact, it had gotten worse and it had chosen that moment to let everyone know.

  The winds barraged the tiny fishing vessel until Nancy felt like she was on a roller coaster that she could not get off.

  Her stomach roiled as the boat lurched to the side. She let out a visible breath. The cold made the ride that much worse. Rain pelted from above like little tiny bullets, stinging her skin.

  Up ahead, the tall Chinese agent was screaming something in Mandarin Chinese to his assistant.

  Nancy momentarily forgot about her hunger and thirst as she took in what was happening.

  Waves slammed into the boat like a tsunami. Nancy felt that they would sink any minute.

  No sooner had she thought that than the boat began to rock even harder. At first, it was barely noticeable, but when the vessel began rocking violently, Nancy knew something was wrong. The waves and the wind were having a ferocious war and their tiny transport was caught in the middle.

  The agent screamed something else in Mandarin Chinese. Nancy didn’t have to understand the language to know that something was wrong. Other passengers began to rouse from sleep.

  Panicked murmurs filled the boat.

  Nancy’s eyes grew wide when she heard and then saw a big tear in the vessel. The boat was sinking.

  Terrified shrieks filled the salty night air when an enormous wave knocked over a couple of her fellow migrants, including the Asian girl.

  She watched in horror as the hungry sea swallowed up their bodies.

  Before she had time to prepare for the inevitable, the capsized transport split into two parts, much like the Titanic had.

  Freezing Pacific water stung Nancy’s bare skin as she opened her mouth to scream. But she didn’t even get a chance to. The raging water surged right into her mouth, forcing her to swallow it.

  She gripped onto Lucy, her guitar, as she was sucked under.