{"id":262,"date":"2025-11-06T23:27:19","date_gmt":"2025-11-06T23:27:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/?page_id=262"},"modified":"2025-11-06T23:57:46","modified_gmt":"2025-11-06T23:57:46","slug":"mings-famous-house","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/fiction\/mings-famous-house\/","title":{"rendered":"Ming’s Famous House"},"content":{"rendered":"

Sam Goldsmith<\/span><\/p>\n

1\u2019s fascination with the sign would have made him late, if A hadn\u2019t found him under it. He stood before his destination, slack-jawed, staring up. The sign displayed maroon lettering of two scripts, the Roman alphabet and Chinese characters \u2014 that much he knew \u2014 but, while he should have been able to read the English, today those letters were as incomprehensible to him as the Chinese. Bouts of confundity such as this had become common since 1\u2019s return home. He first experienced it when his feet took him off the airplane and led him into a cacophony of scribble, a bazaar of signs hawking directions he couldn\u2019t understand.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The sign had a comfortable familiarity. That is, the well of 1\u2019s mind knew the information the sign was meant to convey, without having to rely upon the particulars of its language. 1 felt himself lost in the syntax, but, somehow, none of the meaning had escaped him. He was confused despite having understood.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As was often the case with regards to signs since his return, it was its background rather than its confusing symbology that piqued 1\u2019s interest. Backlit, iridescent, too warm to evoke a ghost yet too cold to seem alive. A gray scuff painted a possibility of story across the lower right corner. Perhaps the blemish occurred when the sign was mishandled during unloading, leading to an acrimonious but ultimately quick legal dispute between the owners and the workers, after which it was decided that removing the mark was not worth the effort. Or the owner may have scuffed the sign intentionally, dragging the heel of their boot across it before installation, out of a personal distaste for anything that looked too clean. Maybe, rather than having been placed there, it simply appeared one day, where it stayed unnoticed or remarked upon before 1 fixed it with his attention.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The door beneath the sign swung towards him, and out walked A, interrupting 1\u2019s meditation.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, 1, you\u2019re here.\u201d She grinned, twirled a cigarette in one hand, withdrew the box with the other. \u201cI thought I\u2019d grab a smoke until the man of the hour got here. No need now. Great timing.\u201d She pushed open the cigarette case with a thumb and restocked.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A and 1 hugged. 1 could feel the sharp corners of A\u2019s shoulder blades press against the meat of his forearms. She felt frailer than before, when she used to hug back like the trunk of a tree.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe can wait a minute if you want,\u201d said 1, \u201cif you would like a modicum of space from B.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A rolled her eyes. \u201cAlways. But, no, let\u2019s just go in. We ordered egg rolls and I\u2019m starving.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Around A\u2019s wrist shuddered a polished wood bracelet, split between shades of deep soil and red clay. 1 expected her to take his arm as she usually did, but instead she pulled the door out. Her eyes held his with a timid hunger, like a vulture unsure if the corpse was actually dead. 1 dipped his head and stepped inside.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou look healthy,\u201d A commented, coming up beside 1. \u201cIf I didn\u2019t already know, I\u2019d never guess what you\u2019ve been going through.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s true of most everyone, I\u2019d say. Where are the others?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFollow me.\u201d This time she did touch 1\u2019s arm, but only for a breath\u2019s moment, before letting her hand dangle like a leaf at her side.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The interior opened its familiar arms to him. Thin red carpeting rowed with blue dots. Small porcelain teacups, cream-colored plastic chopsticks, soy sauce bottles, lazy susans. A\u202fstation against one of the walls with ribbed pitchers of ice water and two industrial-sized rice cookers. The scent of spices and oil reminded 1 of his own hunger, in a pleasant way, like a vacation photograph. To the best of 1\u2019s recollection, none of the words on the sign outside had warned that a restaurant could be found inside. A sandwich board near the entrance, where, he recalled, the restaurant used to announce its weekly specials, now featured an artfully busy arrangement of hieroglyphics.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere he is! Welcome back!\u201d B rose to his feet and enveloped 1. B\u2019s head scraped the underside of the paper lantern that floated above the table. He hunched forward to accomplish the hug, barely a gentle squeeze. He didn\u2019t supplement with his customary slap on the back. Though the slaps were painful, 1 missed the discomfort of them.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

B held 1\u2019s shoulders and appraised him, like a wobbly bookshelf. \u201cYou look great.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAt best I look passable,\u201d 1 corrected him good-naturedly. B\u2019s smile pinched.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He stepped back to admit C, who emerged from behind B\u2019s boulder of a frame and embraced 1. \u201cIt\u2019s good to see you,\u201d she said.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLikewise,\u201d said 1. \u201cIt\u2019s good to be seen. Thanks again for the connection up north.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d C allowed genuine concern to shape her face. \u201cDid they give you any sense about what you can do?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, C,\u201d B bellowed, edging forward into his seat and bullying C back to hers. \u201cToday\u2019s a party! Let\u2019s kill the mood later.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI want to know, too,\u201dA muttered into her pint glass. She sat before a plain white dish painted with streaks of sweet and sour sauce and shards of egg roll. She held half of a roll between three fingers, her elbow on the table.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, look, A, I know you were worried, but come on. The crew\u2019s back together now. You can get serious and mopey whenever you want, but today\u2019s a special occasion.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right, you\u2019re right.\u201d She straightened her back and produced a smile. \u201cI\u2019ll stop being a downer, even though I really am wondering about the serious stuff.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood girl!\u201d B laughed, knowing how thoroughly A hated the phrase. She pointed at him with her tongue.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 deposited himself into the chair beside A, across from B fiddling with his Tsing Tao. C lifted a can of Diet Coke, placed her lips around the straw.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou already ordered tea,\u201d 1 noted with delight. He reached for the scratch-surfaced silver pot. The body radiated a warning into 1\u2019s knuckles that made life seem beautiful.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSee, B? I told you he\u2019d want it,\u201d said A.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, okay, you were right. Let\u2019s toast!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He raised his Tsing Tao to meet the others\u2019 aluminum, glass, and porcelain receptacles above the bed of egg rolls in the center of the table.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFirst, to D getting tenure!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 all but threw his teacup to the table, eyes snapping to A. \u201cIs that so? Finally?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFinally\u2019s an understatement.\u201d A rolled her eyes into her glass and took a sip.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCongrats to you both!\u201d B applauded.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d A said. She set down her glass as she might a briefcase on a weekday evening. \u201cYou know, she\u2019s been working on that book longer than we\u2019ve been married. Isn\u2019t that wild?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI thought she published it before she filed,\u201d 1 said.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s back at it. She doesn\u2019t seem to care that it\u2019s already out. I don\u2019t think she can let herself be done with it. It\u2019s her life\u2019s work.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

B cleared his throat. \u201cEven if life keeps going, an accomplishment\u2019s an accomplishment. I bet D\u2019s on cloud nine right now, as she should be!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

C\u2019s lips found the straw to her Diet Coke again.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNow that that\u2019s out of the way,\u201d B went on, punctuated with the crinkling shell of an egg roll, \u201c1, tell us about your travels. What was the great north like?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe wasn\u2019t on vacation, B.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, excuse me for my interest in Canada. So? What was the most interesting thing you saw while you were up there?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 spoke up. \u201cI\u2019d have to say, it was this nameless mountain town. I don\u2019t believe I could ever forget it. It was like, well, something out of a magazine you read in a dream.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

C\u2019s head and eyebrows shifted.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere are still places without names?\u201d A asked.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNothing has a name until someone says one.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does that even mean, 1?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis town hasn\u2019t been called a name at all, by anyone, possibly ever. So, I could just say some name for it here, and none of you would know any better. But that seems a little disrespectful.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A shook her head and touched her fingers to her cheek, smiling despite herself. \u201cOkay, weirdo, just tell us about this town.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

B cleared his throat again. \u201cYes! What made it so dreamlike?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

C gave a stiff nod. Her bracelet, also wooden, a counterpart to A\u2019s, clinked against the plastic table covering.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFor one, it was breathtakingly beautiful. Also, the high elevation literally took my breath away. Or, now that literally and figuratively mean the same thing, that distinction doesn\u2019t seem to matter anymore.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A groaned and grinned. \u201c1\u2026\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI mean to say, the place can be found in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, where C\u2019s connection suggested I look for a certain rare medicinal herb. Or, saying the town can be found<\/i> is a bit misleading. In actuality, it\u2019s next to impossible to just happen upon. As C\u2019s connection described it to me, one can reach it only via a train that can\u2019t be boarded except by those who already know about it.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

B burst into laughter. \u201cLike in Harry Potter<\/i>? Platform nine and three-quarters?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, nothing remotely magical. I only mean to say, none of the trains a typical traveller might catch passes through the nameless town. I was told the town\u2019s isolation is protected as a national treasure. Very few know of its existence. Even with directions from C\u2019s connection, it was far from a straightforward journey.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

C gave a slow nod, eyebrows pressing down.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou see, the train is totally unlabeled. No board indicating the final destination \u2014 makes sense, given that there is no name to display. No decal to brand the train. No schedule posted anywhere. No signs at all. On some days, the train camps in Vancouver Station noon to night, while on others it doesn\u2019t make even a single appearance. Even if you find it, you might not be able to get a ticket, because it\u2019s not clear which ticket you\u2019re meant to buy. As it turns out, tickets may be purchased only onboard once the train is already in motion, cash only. A nerve-wracking experience, but I suppose I was more desperate than most. I spent two full days in the station waiting to board this mysterious train, only to learn upon departure that three other commutes had passed as I looked on without realizing.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

B leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin in his palms. \u201cFascinating,\u201d he murmured.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPretty weird way to run a rail service,\u201d A put in.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A song began to clang through A\u2019s phone, upside-down in its sage green case, rattling against the table covering. She snarled, apologized, and kept her conversation brief, uttering more monosyllables than words until she recited I love you to end the call.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cD\u2019s celebrating with colleagues,\u201d A reported.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t feel like you have to stay with us. Go meet her if you want.\u201d C looked directly into A\u2019s face and placed a hand on top of hers, which still gripped the phone.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, don\u2019t let us keep you from your beau,\u201d echoed B.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m good.\u201d A saw 1\u2019s eyes, returned the warmth of their gaze. She opened her mouth, then winced and looked back down at her mostly empty pint glass. \u201cI don\u2019t fit in with those academic types. They don\u2019t care about anything I think the minute they learn what I do.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

B\u2019s mouth made a show of agapeness. \u201cSeriously? You\u2019re like the smartest person I know. So what if you decided to follow your dream?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

C gave a pair of emphatic nods.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A glanced up with a smile. \u201cThis is why I\u2019d rather be here,\u201d she said. \u201cThat, and 1\u2019s been gone so long. It\u2019s good to have the whole group together again.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHear hear!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The quartet toasted above the plate where the egg rolls had once been, now just crumbs and shredded lettuce. B beckoned over the waiter, who knew B well enough to put a hand on his back as he put in the group\u2019s regular order.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d B turned back to 1. \u201cEnough about the train. What was it like when you got there?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA little disorienting at first, and not just because of the elevation. The station is inside the mountain. It is a picture of simplicity, nothing more than a slab with some old lampposts lighting the way to the single-door exit. Very orange-brown. There must have been ventilation and a heat source, but I couldn\u2019t see them. I left the station onto a chilly path lined with doors which, like the threshold to the train station, were embedded directly into the mountainside. The edifices were quite beautiful, with simple pinewood doors and smooth iron handles and hinges. Yet, I couldn\u2019t figure out where any of them went. For all I could tell, a door might\u2019ve led just as easily to a single-family home as it could a hospital, say. I was even more lost because of the total lack of signage anywhere.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

B scratched at his neck. \u201cAgain with the no signs?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 frowned. \u201cSigns are a bit rude, if you consider it. They constitute just about the loudest form of visual communication commonly used. What if we installed little air raid sirens to blare constantly, at every bar, pharmacy, street corner, what have you? Sometimes one\u2019s eyes might wish for a rest from all the attention-seeking, I\u2019d guess.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot all signs are advertisements, though,\u201d A pointed out. \u201cWhat about road signs? Or that one there?\u201d A gestured to the wall by the front door, where a framed standard-sized paper had been posted. \u201cThey put up health inspection forms for our safety.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

C scrunched her face. \u201cI\u2019m not sure that counts as a sign.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe nameless town did display inspection reports in their restaurants,\u201d 1 confirmed. \u201cBut no street signs.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow do people know where they\u2019re going?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI bet it\u2019s a pretty small village.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot so. But what does it matter, when you get down to it? Of the countless street signs around us, how many did you use to navigate here tonight? How often do you rely on street signs to find your way in this full-blown city?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAll the time,\u201d grumbled A. \u201cI have to stop at so many goddamn stop signs.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf everyone drove carefully and checked their surroundings at each intersection, we wouldn\u2019t need stop signs either.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow do people get somewhere they\u2019ve never been before?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to ask. Ordinary people are often remarkably eager to help each other.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFascinating.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAlthough, you don\u2019t really need help to get somewhere you\u2019ve never been. Getting lost is just a matter of letting yourself move far enough without paying attention.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c1, oh my god, stop. You know that\u2019s not what B was talking about. Specific places, not just somewhere new<\/i>.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt comes down to asking. You have to ask for directions. If you don\u2019t, as was my mistake, you quickly lose yourself among the lookalike pinewood doors \u2014 and, remember, the door to the train station is one of them. The doors aren\u2019t identical, but they aren\u2019t distinct enough for a newcomer to find meaning in their subtle differences.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot knowing what else to do, I wandered the main street and the network of paths that spidered out from it. But this was another mistake. Many of the paths lead seemingly to nowhere, or suddenly end.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the point of that?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

C removed her lips from the straw. \u201cThat reminds me of something I read about medieval European city planning,\u201d she began.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d B interrupted, \u201cdidn\u2019t they make their roads super narrow, like a maze to keep out invaders?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re worried about invaders in the Canadian Rockies?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI believe it\u2019s a lot to expect from a road, that it will always take a traveler to a destination.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c1. It\u2019s a road. That\u2019s what it was built for.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe townsfolk told me that the roads were designed with an eye towards how people were to think of them, not how they would actually use them. They were planned to remind people that a road implies a destination, but does not guarantee it.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI swear, 1, your philosophizing.\u201d A pressed her palm into her forehead.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFirst thing\u2019s first, a visitor has to figure out how to get where they would like to go. But finding someone to ask directions isn\u2019t so simple. People are rarely out and about, given the chilly and volatile mountain conditions. As the temperature outside nosedived with the setting sun, the initially off-putting option of knocking on random doors got a lot more appealing. But then, I learned the hard way that many of the doors have nothing but rock on the other side.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo way,\u201d said A and B at the same time, A with distaste, B with longing.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s their problem with predictability?\u201d A griped. \u201cSome things should be just what they look like. Especially roads and doors.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll bet the locals may know where each door and road leads like it\u2019s second nature.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cExactly right,\u201d 1 confirmed. \u201cOr else they ask their neighbors. So, I knocked on doors until someone answered. That\u2019s how I met Emi, who told me a lot of the background I\u2019ve been sharing. Exceedingly kind woman, very grandmotherly, though she was decades younger. Brewed a thistle tea that opened me right up where I didn\u2019t even know I was closed. She didn\u2019t seem to have any misgivings about my foreignness or my barging into her cozy home.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBut she didn\u2019t know of the rare herb C\u2019s connection had described. A medicinal, mildly hallucinogenic bud of a berry so astringent that, rumor has it, it will dry out the eater\u2019s tongue for a week. The plant grows, I was told, only in the highest elevations of the Rockies. When prepared properly, its healing benefits can be enjoyed without the tedium of hallucination.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAh, too bad. Hallucination could\u2019ve been the best part,\u201d B smirked. A couldn\u2019t hold back a sigh that burst from the back of her throat.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cEmi told me how to find an apothecary who might\u2019ve come across the plant. I was instructed to go to the pretty door<\/i>. I said, I think all the doors here are pretty. I was being polite, but it was also my true opinion. Emi answered, What a charming thing to say, and confusing.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI understood what she meant when I made it to the pretty door. A handful of knots had been accented in the woodwork, slightly more than the next-most ornate door. I realized that Emi used the word pretty<\/i> to describe the door\u2019s modest embellishments in an objective sense, like distinguishing a thing by its color \u2014 whether or not it was comparatively pleasing, it was undoubtedly the pretty door<\/i>. As I studied it, I decided it looked especially tree-like, while the others looked especially wood-like. I thought of you, A. You\u2019d have appreciated the woodwork.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A blinked her eyes into focus. \u201cMe? Oh, I haven\u2019t spent much time in the shed these days.\u201d She wiggled her head. \u201cI guess I miss it, now that I think of it. Just, how many cutting boards does a woman need?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI keep telling you, let\u2019s get a booth at Saturday Market. Make some more bracelets, too, and you\u2019ll be a hit.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBracelets are super hard. And I don\u2019t like Saturday Market even as a customer.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s where I\u2019d come in. You wouldn\u2019t have to do a thing.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, 1,\u201d A brushed B off, \u201cdid the apothecary hook you up with that rare herb?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1\u2019s gaze drifted into another time. 1 did not describe the expression with which the apothecary greeted him at the pretty door. He did not describe how she prodded his arms and neck as if feeling for contraband, or how she clicked her tongue when she found it. He did not convey her total certainty in what she believed she had identified within him. He did not describe the depths of the wrinkle-shadows candlelight cast against her face. He said nothing of the tone of voice she used to say sorry without apologizing \u2014 none of this was her fault, after all. He did not tell of how, after he left the warmth of the apothecary\u2019s hovel, he traced the knots in the pretty door with two fingers as if he would never again touch wood. He did not say how he wandered the labyrinthian network of paths in the dark and bitter cold, at first attempting to name the lamplit doors he saw, then, failing that, losing himself to thought.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s extinct now. Climate change, I\u2019m afraid. Weather in the mountains has been more volatile and less snowy than ever. It\u2019s too much for a fragile plant.\u201d 1 shrugged with practiced levity. \u201cToo bad, really. I\u2019m told it was strikingly beautiful.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d A hummed. She placed a hand on 1\u2019s forearm.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAll that effort!\u201d B exclaimed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt was not a total loss. I was able to visit a gorgeous town very few people even know about. Plus, I met some very kind locals in the process. I truly have no right to complain.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

From here the conversation shifted toward the subject of the dishes that the waiter had delivered at some point during 1\u2019s tale, and they committed themselves more fully to the work of dining.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

After dinner, the camaraderie gathered outside the restaurant for goodbyes, their night jackets illuminated by the sharp white light of the scuffed, incomprehensible sign. 1 and A exchanged hugs with B and C, who peeled away to carpool to their homes.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A slipped a stick of cigarette into the corner of her mouth. \u201cI\u2019m going to grab a smoke before heading home. Keep me company?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d love to.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 let his head fall behind him, watching the steady shine from the sign. When he returned it to its proper position on his shoulders, he saw that A had not made to light the cigarette, which sat on her lower lip like a glass of water whose base hung half-way off the table. She looked away when her eyes met 1\u2019s.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what I want to ask, right? Before B stopped me.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 grimaced. \u201cB can be bombastic, but he just wants control, same as anyone. His insistence on ignorance is his way of caring.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to be kept in the dark.\u201d There was a miserable bitterness in A\u2019s voice. \u201cWhat did you learn? The whole purpose of this trip.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 sighed at the sign overhead.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t live to see the end of the year,\u201d he said at last.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A\u2019s eyelids plummeted. \u201cThey\u2019re sure?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFew things in life are as sure as this.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no other doctor?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA, while I was away I saw an army of doctors, healers, apothecaries, acupuncturists, shamans, surgeons, clerics, and so on. This is simply my reality.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A touched her chest with her chin, letting the cigarette spill into her open hand. A pair of chest-heaves later, she raised her gaze to meet 1\u2019s eyes, which looked on with patient anticipation. His hands held one another behind his back.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A stepped forward, pulled 1\u2019s shoulders, and grabbed his lips with hers. It was a hungry kiss, drinking at the life he had left, trying to suck sand back up an hourglass.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

They shared the shadow of the restaurant sign for a moment, neither moving. Then A pulled away, facing him with her hands still gripping his shoulders.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, but I\u2019ve always loved you,\u201d she complained. \u201cYou already knew that, didn\u2019t you.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 did. But he had felt the affection in it more acutely when it wasn\u2019t explicit.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\nSam Goldsmith 1\u2019s fascination with the sign would have made him late, if A hadn\u2019t found him under it. He…\n<\/div>\n
Continue reading “Ming’s Famous House”<\/span>…<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":81,"featured_media":0,"parent":14,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-262","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/262","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/81"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=262"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/262\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":266,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/262\/revisions\/266"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/21-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=262"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}