Harris

15

THE SUN ROSE AND EVERYTHING FELL, at 5:30pm, 6:45pm, and 8:05pm. It was yet another instance of embarrassingly bad luck and atrociously poor timing. “You mean to tell me that...everything else is sold out?” his eyes pleaded through the glass of the ticket box at a pimple ridden scowl, proudly labeled “Carl”. “A holiday weekend,” Carl was unsympathetic, “with no reservations? Please! You people...”.
He couldn’t believe it. Finally he had found a nice girl, unconcerned with looks, the one who sat behind him in Advanced Pre Calculus, who just happened to be a recent Chinese immigrant, and the only movie he could take her to see was a documentary on the Japanese occupation of China, touted by critics as “the most gruesome and anger provoking movie of the year”. Why couldn’t he have just taken a nice Jewish girl, as his parents almost forcibly suggested?
That’s exactly why he didn’t bring them. The girl had insisted that she was to bring her family as an escort on their first date, per the tradition, and encouraged him to do the same. As his grandmother was one more cataract away from being legally blind and too cheap to afford a hearing aid that worked, he decided it would be best to bring Bubbe along for the ride.
He begrudgingly made his purchase for the next showing, and Carl was staring daggers at him as the line before the theater kiosk grew. Or perhaps, Carl was merely zoning out, which would justify the pool of saliva expanding on the ticket counter. Bubbe waved at her approaching grandson, although she was turned a good ninety degrees left of him. “Schwartzie!” she cried in her high pitched Brooklyn dialect, “What movie are we seeing?”
“Stop yelling Bubbe, I’m right here,” he said, “We’re going to see that Rising Sun movie.”
“The one with Meryl Streep?”
“No, it’s a documentary.”
“About Meryl Streep? Who would want to see that?”
“No! It’s about the war with Japan! JAPAN!” he spoke as loudly as he could into her ear.
“We’re at war with Japan?”
“No, it’s about the Japanese.”
“Meryl Streep is Japanese? Oh my God! Since when?”
“Forget it...” he waved her away. Schwartzie held the large stack of tickets in his hand, enough for whatever extended family she decided to bring. He couldn’t afford to mess this one up. From the his mother’s mouse in his slicked back hair to buying a set of ten extra tickets, Schwartzie took every possible precaution. Not that he had a chance with most of the girls in his school crowd, but even landing this date took pulling some strings with his contacts, girls in the other honors math section. Sooner or later this girl would find out that not every boy in America beared a striking resemblance to Milhouse from The Simpsons, and when that happened he was out of luck. Locking it in with this girl would be difficult, especially with her family around, but it was his last hope. After a moment, he saw her approaching at the front door. Behind her was an entourage of seven tall, well built, stern looking Chinese men.
“Hey Alex,” he smiled nervously, suddenly forgetting her Chinese name that took all too long to remember. “Oh, hi,” she spoke softly, “Nice to see you. These are my brothers, I’d like for you to meet them.” As they stood shoulder to shoulder in an eerily straight line, she began naming them off.
“This is Lao Bai, the oldest,” she said, as he looked straight ahead and nodded abruptly.
“This is Qiang Lin, very strong, but hot temper,” as Qiang cracked his knuckles and grimaced.
“Chao Li is the smart one.” And then Chao turned to Schwartzie, “Ni hui shuo shen me zhong guo fang yan?”
“Yeah me too...” Schwartzie feigned a smile, Chao was perplexed.
“These are the twins,” Alex continued, “Xiang and Chang Dao.” They gave an awkward “Howdy” in unison.
“Ming Gao is the businessman,” and he was just as muscular looking as the others, but in a chartreuse velvet suit, yammering away violently in Chinese on his cell phone.
“And Po Po...” Alex giggled, “he makes us laugh.” Po Po shot Schwarzie a stare that sent ice through his veins, as he picked his upper teeth with his tongue.
Schwartzie, momentarily frazzled and permanently intimidated, looked over at his grandmother. “Well,” he tapped her on the shoulder to wake her, “This is my Bubbe. She normally eats around four thirty, but she made an exception.
“Ah what?” asked Lao Bai, “You called...ah Bubble?”
“Hello Bubble!” waved the twins together.
“Very nice to meet you,” Alex smiled and shook her hand.
Bubbe turned to Ming Gai, “Excuse me, where’s the bathroom in this place?”
It was Alex who smiled warmly, “We will go together.” They walked across the theater lobby as Bubbe shouted back, “Get me a cola Schwartzie!” The seven brothers all turned to him.
“You guys like coke?” he asked nervously.
“Cok? No...no cok...” Chao Li seemed almost insulted.
“Cok ah forbidden,” Lao Bai shook his head.
“Parents say,” went Qiang Lin, “We see you with cok, we never see you again.”
“Oh...okay,” said Schwartzie, “Well, what do you guys usually drink?”
“Blood,” laughed Po Po, “Drink lots of blood!” His joke was met with roaring laughter from the other six brothers. Schwartzie chuckled along nervously until Po Po stopped mid laugh to give Schwartzie another deadpan stare, followed by the hawk-eyes.

“Well,” Bubbe opened the pill organizer from her purse in the Ladies Room, “this is how I take all of my medicine on the right day. Blue is thursday, purple is friday...”
“Oh,” nodded Alex, slightly confused at the adjacent sink, “very interesting.”
“And this,” Bubbe pulled out a little brown bottle from the purse, “prevents constipation.”
“Consta...wha?”
“It keeps things...runnin’ smooth,” Bubbe winked, but Alex looked no less perplexed.
“I measure one capful into my drink, and it works like a miracle! My doctah gave me the strong stuff.”
“You mean...,” pondered Alex, “It make you...ah...gassy?”
“Couldn’t go a day without it!” Bubbe lectured, “The time I did nearly killed me! Not to mention it was during Passover. Try eating unleavened bread for a week without laxatives! It’s hell!”
“Oh,” Alex stared down at her shoes, not quite knowing what to say, “That’s...very bad.”
“So,” went Bubbe rather loudly, “Have you heard about Meryl Streep?”

The theater was packed with a crowd of anxious Chinese families, pretentiously cultured critics, and the other unlucky few who had to buy last minute weekend tickets. Schwartzie trudged down his row, juggling two coca-colas and a water for Alex. The seven brothers sat sternly side by side. Schwartzie made an effort to maneuver around the pairs of muscular legs as he found his seat between Alex and his Bubbe, muttering “sorry” as he passed each successive brother. As Bubbe began mixing her drink, Alex turned to her brother, “Po Po. Why don’t you tell us one of your jokes?”
Po Po turned his head, “Okay. Joke...okay. One time I kill a bear...with my bare hands!”
Again, he was met with resounding laughter from his family, but Schwartzie’s pained smile soon faded as Po Po shot him a wink and a toothy grin. “What movie are we watching?” Alex asked Schwartzie, still giggling. He shrugged and lifted his arms, the nebbish way of saying “oy, what can you do?”, and then buried his head in his hands, the everyone’s way of saying “oy, this is gonna be a long night.” The lights were dimmed, Ming Gao ended his heated business call, and the movie began.
The Sun Rose and Everything Fell title screen had faded into a waving Japanese flag. Suddenly, a fire spread from the center of the red Rising Sun, engulfing the flag, and revealing a shot of a Chinese guerrilla soldier in camouflage screaming a battle cry as he jumped from a tree. The sound of machine guns and abrupt Chinese phrases immediately followed.
Schwartzie began to perspire, and his mouth grew dry. As he reached for his beverage, he couldn’t quite remember if he’d put his cup to his left or to his right. He decided against taking the one from Alex’s side, which might provoke the brothers if it was indeed her cup, as some kind of overly familiar gesture, in turn causing Po Po to resort to physical comedy.
He reached for the cup on his Bubbe side, and sipped anxiously as the fighting onscreen continued. Alex turned to him to whisper, “We used to learn about this in school. Really terrible-the whole thing.” Schwartzie nodded affectionately as Bubbe broke in all too loudly, “Who’s the main character Schwartzie? I’m not following this...”.
“Shhh...Nanna, it’s not that kind of movie. Just watch.”
“Alright,” she was still fairly loud, “All I’m asking is they pick a character and give him a relatable love interest. Is that too much to ask? This is incomprehensible!”
Schwartzie then turned his head to see Qiang Lin, the brother gifted with strength and temper, sitting tightly with his eyebrows furrowed and his fists clenched. His forehead was bright red, and he was muttering abruptly in Chinese. As the screen cut to an interview of an elderly Japanese veteran, Qiang Lin suddenly leapt up from his seat and shouted, “Ni men sha le wo de zu xian! Sha le ta men!” This sent the rest of the Chinese crowd into hysteria, shouting all kinds of non-english obscenities at the screen. Even the other six brothers began pumping their fists and yelling amidst the crackle of machine gun fire. Indeed, this was going to be a long night.

Mortar shells ripped through the night air, sailing towards the nearly flattened city buildings, immediately accompanied by the roar of the air raid sirens and the deafening cries of civilians. Only, these civilians were not shown on screen, but rather made up an audience of Chinese movie theater patrons. The shouting ensued, and even the elderlies in the frontmost rows who were too soft-spoken to be heard, began propelling small items at the screen to show their disdain. “What’s everybody so riled up about?” Bubbe nudged Schwartzie on the side, “Streep is good, sure, but not that good...”.
“You kill ancestors? We make you pay!” Qiang Lin was leading this blockbuster “revolt”.
“I’m sorry,” Alex turned to Schwartzie, “This just makes him very upset.”
“What make you think you can just...” Qiang Lin stopped mid scream and abruptly transitioned into a mad fit of coughing.
“Are you okay?” Alex put her hand on her brother’s shoulder as he continued to cough hysterically, “I’m sorry, I’ve drank all my water.”
“Well,” Schwartzie shrugged, “You could have my coke...”
Qiang Lin eyed him suspiciously. When another wave of phlegm overtook him, he relented and grabbed for the cup. After the first sip, his eyes widened.
“Oh,” he slurped again, “Oh-hoh! I like cok!” He passed the drink to Lao, the oldest.
“Oh...,” Lao’s muscles relaxed, “Cok ah good...cok ah very good!”
The cup of coke traveled down the row of brothers, each one smiling and revering its taste. The two twins gave synchronized thumbs up, even Po Po had a sip.
Their row was now quieted amidst a theater filled with the sounds of war and incomprehensible yelling, except for the barely audible ring of a cell phone. “What’s that beeping?” Bubbe screamed, “I hear beeping! Who’s got a beeper?”
The line of brothers all turned to Ming Gao in his velvet business suit and sunglasses.
“I can’t hear myself think! You’re driving me insane over here!” Bubbe was heard over the arriving fighter jets.
Ming Gao, a little shaken, answered his telephone and resumed business, “Okay...well tell Mr. Young to bring punk ass into my office tomorrow...yes...then we see who have balls...”.
“Can you believe this, Schwartzie?” Bubbe glared at Ming, “People like this have somewhere to be? Don’t see a movie! It’s that simple...”.

It creeped in...slowly, and then...all at once, in bold staccato, like an SOS in morse code. For a moment, it seemed Schwartzie’s sudden flatulence would go unnoticed. Then Alex turned to look at him, who in turn looked instinctively towards Bubbe. “Oh!” Alex clasped her hand to her face in newfound understanding, “Medicine make Bubble gassy!” Schwartzie was beginning to feel a burning sensation within the walls of his intestines.
“I’ll be right back, Alex,” he said softly as he got up.
“Okay,” she smiled, and then, “I like the movie Schwartzie. Really interesting.”
Although nice, it was not quite the relief he was looking for, and as he waddled down the scantily lit aisles of the theater, the ambient sounds of battle seemed to be amplified in his bowels.
Schwartzie shoved open the theater door, moaning as his colon seemed to be pulling his insides outside. His legs were feeble. By the time he’d reached the men’s room, a small tiled chamber with only one stall, he was nearly limping. He almost threw himself to the ground, in defeat, but the persistent flame spurred him on. With a bolt, he unzipped, locked the stall door, and...

Five, ten, nearly twenty minutes of agonizing pain that came in successive rounds, and Schwartzie wondered what he had eaten to cause such an unnatural disturbance. The floor tiles seemed to shake in sympathy with his periodic groans. On bathroom duty, Carl stood miserably outside the stall replacing urinal cakes. Then, there was a fierce knocking on the bathroom door. “Schwartzie!” Bubbe hollered, startling a Carl to consciousness, “Are you in there? Are you alright in there Schwartzie?” It took him a moment to answer.
“Yeah Bubbe I’m fine. I just...need a minute.”
“Well I’ve just about had it!” she screamed, “I’m dyin’ over here!”
“Wait can...” Schwartzie had to pause to release some gas, “can we just talk about this later when I come outside? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“I’m all blocked up!” she yelled through the door, “Schwartzie, I’m all blocked up!”
Carl took this as his cue to remove himself from the line of duty, muttering “ugh, people.” as he hustled out the bathroom door. Bubbe took this as her cue to enter the men’s room.
“What do you mean you’re all blocked up?” he asked from within the stall.
“Nothing was coming out!” she was near tears, “I went to the bathroom and...bupkis!”
“Did you...,” Schwartzie grunted again, “take all of your medications?”
“Well, I think so,” she tried to remember, “you didn’t happen to get me a diet cola, did you? The laxatives don’t really mix so well with that diet stuff.”
“Wait...,” Schwartzie’s eyes widened, “Bubbe, what cup did you...”.
Just then Chao Li burst into the room screaming, running for the stall door and cursing violently in Chinese when he realized it was looked.
“Hello? Please?” he pleaded through the stall door, “Need to go. Very bad. Emergency.” He turned around to see Bubbe, standing there with her arms crossed, her eyebrows furrowed in thought (or sleep).
“Why Bubble here?” Chao was confused, “Bubble is a man?”
Schwartzie called worriedly from inside the stall, “Hi there. Look, I’ll be out in a minute, I promise.”
“Okay,” Chao winced, “Please hurry. Never had this bad before.”
Mere seconds later, the bathroom door swung open again, revealing a frail Lao Bai. He limped through the entrance clutching his stomach.
“Ohhh,” he moaned, “Not feeling good. Many cramps.” He then began talking rapidly to his brother in Chinese, exchanging information about their seemingly identical conditions.
The door shuffled for a minute, and then in barged the two twins, shoving each other in a race to the lone stall, only to find out there was now a line.
“Please?” Lao Bai cried, “We are in pain!”
“I’m really sorry,” Shwartzie had to consider his own pain as well, “I’m finishing up.”
Ming Gai was the next to burst in, extremely panicked. The small room was growing exceedingly crowded.
“Shwartzie in bathroom with Bubble,” Lao explained, “We all need to make...bad.”
Ming exhaled heavily in frustration, “This suit custom made! Can’t get dirty-cost me five hundred dollars! Need to go first!”
This provoked a heated argument between all the siblings, primarily in Chinese and in some broken English, as to who was next for the latrine. “I’m going next!” Bubbe joined in, “I need to get things moving! I could die!”
“No!” Chao was angry, “Bubble can use ladies room! I can’t hold much longer!”
“You done soon already?” begged one of the twins.
“Look,” Schwartzie called back from the stall, “can you guys just...all be quiet for a minute. I need to concentrate.”
The fighting took a cease fire, and for a moment, all was quiet. Then entered Qiang Lin the strong, suddenly not so strong, nearly crawling through the door and collapsing by the sink.
“I feel..,” he moaned, “like I will explode.”
“Please finish already!” cried one of the twins, “Only one john...many brothers.”
“Okay,” a sigh spread through the room as Schwartzie flushed, “I’m finished.
A zipping of the pants was heard, and then a rustling of the stall door. But no Shwartzie. “I think it’s stuck,” he yelled, “The door won’t hinge.”
“Trapped?!” Bubbe was hysterical, “Help! My Schwartzie is trapped in there!”
“The opening’s too small for me to slide through,” he called, “What should I do?”
“Whatever it takes!” groaned a wincing Ming Gao.
Qiang summoned as much energy as he could, "Okay...give me boost."
The twins put out their hands to hoist Qiang as high as they could above the stall. “Schwartzie! Stand on the toilet!” he called. Schwartzie, skeptical but overwhelmed by intimidation, balanced himself on the seat of the latrine. He just barely managed to latch on to Qiang’s fingers as he was hoisted eight feet in midair. Qiang used all of his brute strength to carry him over the stall wall, but just as he did, the twin under him screamed, “Ohhh...It’s coming out...now!”. As he collapsed, so did the makeshift human triangle. Schwartzie’s fall was caught by a metal peg on the top of the stall, as it latched on to the elastic of his underwear. He screamed.
“Oh my god!” Bubbe cried, “Schwartzie! Get down from there!”
The brothers were beginning to keel over as Schwartzie hung swinging at the top of the stall. Bubbe was in shock. Then, the men’s room door swung open once again.
“I knew it!” a seething Po Po screamed as he stormed in, “I knew it! Try to kill us with your cok?! Try to poison us?!”
The rest of the brothers looked confused for a moment, and then their eyebrows furrowed in realization.
“Cok! The cok!” went Chao Li.
“Your cok was poison!” cried Qiang Lin.
“Cok bad...,” Lao Bai was simmering, “cok ah very bad!”
Ming Gai was already on the phone, hollering to the others, “I talk to lawyer right now. He say we have case! Liability very big...”.
Schwartzie looked down at them helplessly as the abrupt Chinese screaming began again.

Alex walked out of the theater and into the entrance hall. The movie was still playing, but she was growing tired of sitting alone, and wondering where everyone had suddenly gone.

“I kill you Schwartzie!” Po Po charged for the top of the stall, trying to lock Schwartzie in a strangle-hold. He clung by his boxers for dear life. “Let go of him!” Bubbe raged, wildly swinging her handbag. The bathroom battle had gotten out of control.

Alex walked along the popcorn stained carpet until she reached the door of the men’s room. The clamor inside was so loud it seemed to seep through the walls, a mix of english, chinese, and yiddish vocalizations melded with the incessant rumble of background machine gun fire, still playing from the theater.

Carl passed Alex with a mop in hand, “People...”, he shrugged. Alex stared at the door handle and slowly turned the knob.