Translator

    By Pattie Lawler

 

 

           Lisa stopped reading and reached for the smallest of the dictionaries piled on the desk.

            "Wow...this is different," she mused, counting the strokes of the elaborate character. Slipping off the cotton gloves, she opened to the index, found the requisite page and ran a finger down the column of characters, looking for a match.

            "Ko, ko, ko...kou? What is that? Nin? It can’t be."

            Dissatisfied, she dragged the larger, less wieldy dictionary closer. The book cover dropped onto the mouse and the laptop responded with a glaring, white light. The glow illumined a similar, but equally useless page in her standard reference.

            Rolling her eyes, she looked up at the translation page on the screen, knotted her hair at the nape of her neck, and began typing.

            Fifteen minutes later she had posted to the university’s language mailing list, asking for help. Now, standing over the desk, adjusting the zoom lens on her camera, she swore for the umpteenth time, "The next camera has a macro."

            The frantic tones of Beethoven’s piano sonata 14, presto agitato, interrupted her attempts to take a picture that didn’t include her looming shadow. Placing the camera on the desk, she fished the phone from her purse and flipped it open, ending the recital.

            "Hi Jenny," she murmured, hoping to sound uninterested in a night of coffee houses.

            "Leeza! Where are you?"

            "Working. I have a paper due—"

            "When? In a month? Two? I swear you have your doctoral thesis on your hard drive, don’t you?"

            "No, it’s on disc. What did you want? I need to get back."

            "No you don’t. You need to come to the Script. Guess who’s here...all alone."

            Lisa’s eyes scrunched closed as common sense battled desire. "Jenny, I can’t. I only have two more days with this book, and I can’t afford to waste them."

            "But he’s all alone!" her friend wailed. "How often does that happen?"

            "Probably more often than you think. I’ll see you tomorrow."

            Snapping the phone closed, she was about to drop it back into hiding when Beethoven’s 5^th symphony in C minor, opus 67: Allegro, sounded from her hand. Groaning, she flipped it open and plastered a smile on her face.

            "Nihao, number one mom."

            "Nihao number four daughter. Are you busy?"

            "No Mom, what’s up? Is Dad alright?"

            "He’s fine, honey. He’ll see the doctor next week, remember? I just wanted to make sure you’ll be home on time Friday."

            Lisa smacked her forehead and dropped into a squat, resisting the urge to curse. "Of course, Mom." She rocked back on her heels, envisioning the whole awkward scene. "I’ll be there."

            "Great! Did you want anything special for dinner?"

            "Whatever you make is special, Mom."

            "Aww, honey. You’re the best number four daughter a mother could ask for. I’ll let you get back to work, okay?"

            "Sure, Mom. I’ll see you Friday. Give my love to Dad."

            "I love you."

            "Love you too, Mom."

            Pushing disconnect, Lisa rolled onto her back, howling. "This sucks!" she yelled, sitting up and strangling the phone. "Sucks, sucks, sucks!"

            Rising, she threw the phone into her purse, scooped up a handful of money from the desk and pocketed her keys.

            The Java Script didn’t sound so bad after all.

 <0> 

            Jenny’s knowing smile made Lisa sorry to have caved. Her own smile was tight-lipped, as she slipped into the banquette.

            "What made you change your mind?"

            "Images of my rapidly evaporating youth."

            "Your mother called."

            "Seconds after you did."

            Nodding, Jenny patted Lisa’s hand. "They’re just worried about your future, number four daughter. I’m sure he’s a very charming young man."

            "A very charming young man who can’t get a date without help," Lisa muttered, then dropped her voice. "Where’s Rick?"

            Delight flared in Jenny’s hazel eyes as she pointed at her right shoulder. Lisa glanced in the general direction, hoping to not be obvious, and was treated to a front row seat for the ensuing tableau.

            Rick, sandy-haired and gorgeous, looked toward the door and smiled. In fact, every man in the crowded shop turned to the door and gawked. Lisa couldn’t help but join them.

            Entering the coffee house, the lithe blonde smiled her thanks to the man who threw himself forward to hold the door for her. Bright blue eyes swept the room, and Rick raised his hand to catch her attention. The entire shop sagged with disappointment, and Lisa’s internal organs landed in her feet.

            "What am I doing here?" she growled, rising. Jenny sputtered something she didn’t hear.            Lisa was out the door before the blonde reached Rick’s table.

 <0>

            "What was I thinking?" she fumed, stalking across the deserted commons. "Talk about boneheaded ideas! Like he’s ever alone? Just waiting for me to happen by? Like he knows I’m alive? I knew should have stayed home!"

            "Excuse me."

            Startled, she halted, looking into the shadows for the speaker. The common was, generally speaking, well lit, but Lisa was suddenly aware of how alone she was.

            "Yes?"

            "Could you direct me, please? I’m looking for Marrist Dorm."

            A tall, Asian man emerged from the darkness and, seemingly, off the cover of GQ. Unable to do anything but gape, Lisa realized she had never fully understood the phrase ‘drop dead gorgeous’ before. His lean figure, upon which his tailored suit effortlessly hung; his silky, long black hair, the relaxed deportment...

            As their eyes met, heat flooded her body. Piercing black orbs pinned her in place and wrenched the air from her lungs.

            "I’m sorry," she lied. Confusion washed over her, robbing her voice, quickening her heart. "I don’t know it."

            He made a soft noise that expressed regret. "Perhaps there’s a map?"

            A slight British accent only added to the fascination surrounding the man. Lisa felt herself leaning forward, but whether it was to better hear him, or simply move closer, she couldn’t say. Shaking herself, she changed tacks.

            "There is," she said amiably, forcing her lungs to work. "If you follow this path," she pointed in the direction of the Java Script, "there’s a map near the iron gate. You can’t miss it. It’s huge."

            "The map?"

            "The gate."

            "Ah. Thank you...miss.

            The urge to kowtow was strong as he inclined his head and turned in the direction she indicated. Freed of his eyes, Lisa gathered her shattered wits, turned toward Marrist, and sprinted into the darkness.

<0> 

            With her door barred to everything but a returning roommate, Lisa flopped against the metal barrier and scrubbed her eyes. She thought of calling Jenny, to warn her to watch for beautiful Chinese men lurking on the common, but knew her friend better than that. The perky brunette would hitch a ride with someone. She always did.

            The flickering light of the laptop’s screensaver drew Lisa back from her concerns. Emptying her pockets, she sank into her chair and surveyed the desktop. There, her computer and piles of books formed dense castle walls. Her gaze dropped to the ancient book laid out beyond the ramparts. The unfolded codex was protected by a layer of cotton towels, and with a sigh, Lisa picked up both the towels and the discarded gloves. But one glance at the text reminded her of her dilemma, and she pushed the mouse, recalling the laptop to life.

            "Seventeen messages," she announced, tying her hair back. "All of them selling cheap medication, no doubt."

            The answering machine clicked on, and her roommate declared her intentions of spending the night at her boyfriend’s place. "Chain the door, Lee. I’ll see you..." she giggled, "whenever."

            Nodding, Lisa rose and lowered the portcullis. Back at her desk, she deleted three emails and eagerly opened the first of a dozen with the subject line, "Unknown character, need help, please."

            Four were asking for better pictures, three said she could find it in the book she had already checked, all referencing different pages, and the remaining five each suggested a definition. Each was more absurd than the last, but she pulled over the pencil and pad and jotted them in the margin of the stalled translation.

            Over the course of the lengthening night, more emails came in. The one constant was that every suggested definition was different. Some were so wildly unlikely that Lisa checked to make sure that the people responding where entitled to be on this private list.        

            Exacerbated, she yawned, donned the gloves, and turned her thoughts to the next character.

 <0> 

            The dreamscape was both familiar and completely unlike the area it was meant to represent. Lisa was strolling with Rick’s date from the Java Script, but here, the devastating blonde was Jenny. They were talking about something so inane that it barely registered until the Chinese man from the common stepped into their path. His mesmerizing eyes halted Lisa’s progress. Jenny cheerfully told her and Rick to have fun before turning into a professor and wandering toward one of the halls.

            "You’re not Rick," Lisa whispered.

            "I’m not," he agreed, and then he was pressed against her, caressing her cheek. She didn’t protest as his hand cupped her chin, lifting her face.

            It was twilight, and they were alone in the classics wing. Amber sunlight slanted through the countless windows, and the man drew her into one of the shafts of light. His touch was warm and comfortable, as if they had been doing this for years. There was no fear, no desire to flee, only the need to kiss him.

            All of him.

            Gazing at him, Lisa was enthralled as his mouth found hers. His eyes were closed, ending his reign of dominance. The vulnerability of this action swelled her heart, and her hands rose to wind into his hair, drawing him closer. All thought ceased as he surrendered to her greedy advances. Tongues tangled, breathing became a shared experience, and the sun faded. When his hand slipped under her shirt and stroked her back, Lisa’s eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp.

            The dorm room was unchanged. The door was still chained, and the pale sky framed in the window announced the approaching dawn.

 <0> 

            Sitting in Ancient Chinese Literature, Lisa handed around copies of the mystery character. Of the eight students, only one person reached for a dictionary.

            "It’s betel," Jason said, handing the picture back. His dismissive tone suggested that he was surprised by her ignorance.

            "No it’s not," Wei snorted, pointing to the top strokes. "This clearly says li."

            Dumbfounded, Lisa could only stare. Her colleagues each insisted they knew what the character was, and every suggestion was different. "We’ll ask Professor Cheng," she finally announced when tempers flared. "It’s not that big a deal."

            But the professor had his own take on the strokes and added something new to her growing list.

            "You found this in the text you’re translating?"

            Lisa nodded and explained that she had also asked online. "It’s the codex you suggested; the one that’s part Jiaguwen, part Dazhuan. The odd thing is that everyone says it’s something different. I have yet to get a repeat definition on what it could be."

            "Write it on the board," Professor Cheng suggested.

            With a shrug, Lisa did as she was told. She wasn’t halfway through the complex word when the class erupted with different definitions. Shocked, Lisa stopped to turn and look at her peers.

            "All right, all right," Professor Cheng shouted over the rising din. "Lisa, thank you for bringing in the character, but that’s enough for today. Everyone, please take out a pencil..."

            Lisa turned back to the board, and her eyes rose to the first stroke. Even incomplete the glyph was lovely. She was loath to erase it, but Professor Cheng chided her slowness, and she quickly erased the script and joined the class.

 <0> 

            Books clutched to her chest, Lisa staggered back to the dorm. Hours in the library yielded nothing, and she was close to admitting defeat. The codex had to be returned in the morning and more than half of the text remained unexplored. She planned on spending the evening photographing what she could.

            A movement to the right caught her attention, and as she languidly raised her eyes, she wasn’t surprised to see the Chinese man in the path, barring her way. Exhausted from her search, she couldn’t even muster energy to drive the weariness from her voice.

            "It’s the codex, isn’t it? It’s that character."

            His eyes held her, told her she was right, then dropped to her lips.

            They throbbed in response.

            Forcing herself to breathe, Lisa drew herself up. "What do you want?"

            His eyes returned to hers, and she was no better off as he took a step toward her. "What I want," he whispered, "is to continue to be the man in your dreams, Tang Lee Zi. I have searched for you for more than a year, and I won’t allow an ancient spell to take you from me."

            Her mind awhirl, she shook her head, leaning away from him. "The codex is a spell?"

            "A very powerful one. Do not photograph it; do not read it; do not touch it. Please, Lee Zi."

            She tried to turn, to break eye contact, and found she couldn’t. "Why should I believe you?"

            He took another step toward her, plunging her into a fog of rich, vanilla-scented cologne. Reeling, she stepped back, but he followed and bent to her ear.

            "You know of the tian-gan. You know the characters are indecipherable...that they mean something different to whoever reads them?"

            "The definitions," she panted, twisting to escape his presence. "They were all different."

            He made a soft sound and moved back into her line of vision. "Of the ten, this one would mean war in our time were you to read it correctly. Think of your classmates, Lee Zi. Remember their reactions. Now think of a Chairman, or a President, with the word at their command. Think of it, Lee Zi. Think, and leave the codex alone; I beg you."

            These three simple words cut through her haze. Lisa’s head snapped up as she looked at him. "Who are you?" she demanded, her gaze searching his face.

            "I am one of ten who have sworn an oath to guard the true Celestial Stems from mankind. You are close to understanding, closer than a human has been in centuries, Lee Zi, and I have come to stop you."

            "And how will you do that?"

            His arms were around her in a second, and her books cascaded to the ground as he kissed her.

            Deeply, thoroughly, druggingly.

            Lisa melted against him as thought ceased. His warmth permeated her skin. The feeling of comfort she experienced in the dream returned to calm and soothe her. Slowly, her hands reached for him, touched his arms, slid up to his shoulders. He drew her closer, bending her back as the kiss deepened.

            And the urgency passed and she relaxed in his arms. Lisa opened her eyes, to see if his were closed as they had been in the dream, and she found him watching her.

            Her legs turned to rubber.

            "What...what," she stammered, breaking away, "would you have done if I were a man?"

            "The same thing. But I wouldn’t have agreed to Friday."

            He stood her up as she continued to sputter. "Fri...Friday? Why Friday?"

            "Friday your mother is cooking for us, remember?"

 

 

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