The Fuwa were talking to me. Directly. The most talkative one was Beibei, he's a big fan of Tina Turner, which I thought was strange at the time but he dances like he's doing the Nutbush. In fact, he does that Nutbush dance all of the time. He's so cute.
I had been trapped in my apartment for 10 days straight. After a complete detox over the course of a few days, during which I abstained from alcohol, fatty foods and wearing anything made of polyester, I couldn't bring myself to go back outside.
I had been exercising with the determination of Susan Sarandon at an anti-war rally and limited my diet to carrot juice and celery. Gradually, I was becoming convinced that all the other food in my fridge had tiny worms in it. So tiny that I couldn't see them but I knew they were there.
At night, it felt like millions of ants were tap dancing on my skin. The clatter that they made with their tiny tap shoes began to echo inside my head. So, unable to sleep, I started spending more and more time on my treadmill. Dark rings started to appear around my eyes after the third day inside and in order to stay distracted from the tap-dancing ants I kept all four of my plasma Bang & Olufsen televisions running at the same time. All the time.
I yelled at my maid after she turned a television off during her routine vacuuming of my hand-stitched Turkish rugs. I've seen the way she's been looking at me too. She doesn't have to open her mouth because I know that she has it in for me. I wonder if she is a mole sent by Jackie Chan and his cronies from The Disciple to mentally degrade me. I think I'll keep her on because I may need her as proof that these premonitions I am having are not mere fantasies.
It was 2:54am last Wednesday when Beibei and I first met. I was on a quick break between jogging sessions, chugging back some juice when all four plasmas froze on an image of the five Olympic Fuwa: Beibei the fish, Jingjing the panda, Huanhuan the torch, Yingying the antelope and Nini the swallow. When I used to see giant billboards of these little critters while cruising the ring roads I always thought that if they could talk, they would sound like demonic pixies.
Beibei sounds like Barry White.
"Hello Kublai, don't be frightened," Beibei said in a velvety tone. "We know you need a friend right now and we're here to help. We know how loud the dancing ants can be."
The five Fuwa then began to sing That's What Friends Are For. They were harmonizing like tiny angels with strong masculine voices. Only Nini sounded feminine, but Dionne Warwick-feminine, which complimented the others' baritones.
"I love Dionne Warwick," I said as I choked back tears, relieved that someone else believed me about the ants. "Why are you talking to me though, wouldn't your advice be more beneficial for our brave athletes before the start of the Games?"
Beibei told the others to stop singing and lent forward.
"No, no, no, no, no," he said, wiggling one of his three little fingers. "Our athletes need their sleep and besides they already have a purpose. We are here to give you yours."
They all yelled out: "Yay!"
Yingying began breakdancing while the others clapped and chuckled. My heart felt like it was being filled with warm cocoa. When I looked down I saw that my glass of chilled carrot juice had been replaced by a piping cup of rich hot chocolate. I began to move my hips to the Fuwa's rhythmic clapping which by this time was being accompanied by Huanhuan's beatboxing.
"We're going to need you to do something for us, sweet friend," Beibei said.
"Hee hee. Whatever you need little cherubs. How can I help you? You name it."
"We need something built and in return we'll call off the ants. But you have to swear that you'll help us," Beibei said.
They all cried out in unison: "Help us, Kublai".
I sipped on my hot chocolate. In the midst of euphoria didn't realize that the boiling creamy liquid was blistering my mouth and throat.
"Drink, drink," the Fuwa demanded. My new pint-sized companions may look like Pokemon outcasts but they party like Ewoks. "So what do you need to be built?" I asked, my mind swimming in the enchanting pulse of the beautiful music.
Contact the author at kublaimeister@gmail.com
(China Daily 05/30/2007 page15)
