Paul had never particularly liked the rain. Which was a bit odd considering where he had eventually chosen to settle down in life. The Pacific Northwest was not particularly well known for it's dry sunny days and agreeable temperatures. The nicest thing he could say about the weather was it never bored you with monotony. Especially in the fall and spring months. He had hoped traveling halfway around the world would offer him some kind of reprieve. It was not to be. Despite the assurances from his iphone that Hong Kong was scheduled for at least three warm, dry days, the rain fell in a complete deluge. This was suppose to be the dry season.
He grumbled, a bit angry with himself for putting himself in the position he now found himself in. Stuck under a sagging canopy with four energetic teenagers, one disgruntled interpreter, and a mongrel dog. He didn't know where the dog had come from but it seemed to know they were strangers in this country, and might be counted on for a handout or two. A correct assumption on the dogs part as the two girls in the group fed him tidbits of beef jerky from their packs and scratched behind his ears. Paul tried not to think about what the mongrel might be carrying and hoped to high heaven the girls didn't get bit. He had already told them not to touch but it seemed girls at fifteen had very selective hearing, especially when it came to animals. He had already been yelled at by a shopkeeper when the girls decided the live lobsters he sold had names and therefore didn't deserve to die. Next time he put together one of these groups he was going to screen for anyone who thought crustaceans were people.
He wished his wife was here. She would have handled the group so much better than he. Mothers, especially mothers of multiple children seemed to have this natural ability for herding wayward youths. Unfortunately at this stage of her pregnancy travel, especially international travel, was strongly advised against. Her pregnancy had been entirely unexpected and as happy as Ruth had been about a new addition to their family, she had been distraught over the fate of this trip. Plans and promises had already been made to their church regarding the mission trip and she was loathe to break them. Upon seeing his wife in tears he had foolishly called the church leadership and told them he would lead the team.
So here he was. Halfway around the world in a country he had no first hand knowledge of, traveling with four hormonally saturated teenagers with visions of missionary grandeur. Not to mention his interpreter had taken one look at him upon his arrival and had audibly sighed. Kato was used to working with Ruth, and Paul was sure he possessed none of the outward confidence of his wife. Kato knew his job was going to take on whole new levels of responsibility on this trip and was obviously none to happy about it. So far his instincts had not been wrong. He was still sporting a swollen index finger where one of the rescued lobsters had clamped on during the altercation with the shopkeeper.
Paul broke from his musings as he felt a hard tap on his shoulder and he looked to his left to see Kato peering up at him.
“We should not wait longer Mr. Binger, The hotel you reserved at is strict when it comes to check in times.”
Paul nodded but looked out at the pounding rain and frowned. “It's still raining cats and dogs out there. You sure we can't hold off a bit? We've paid for the first night in advance, wouldn't they wait?”
Kato looked up at him with a perplexed look on his face before answering. “The hotel will not wait Mr. Binger. It is popular with American travelers and is always busy. You are very lucky you were able to book the time and space you did. If you are late they will not wait for you to wander in. Your rooms will go to someone with better punctuality and cash in their pockets.”
One thing he had to appreciate about Kato, he never glossed over a situation for you. Paul just wished he had better news. He nodded to his interpreter and looked behind him just in time to see the boys dropping dried sardines in each of the girls hair. They simultaneously shrieked, and not having the energy to to scold all of them together, Paul simply sighed and pulled out his wallet to pay the stands annoyed owner. Kato watched the scene with an expression which vacillated between horror and amusement.
Several minutes passed as Paul first had to convince the group they had to venture out into the rain or lose a place to stay for night. More minutes passed as the girls insisted on digging though their packs for their rain covers, then finding they had no idea how to tie them on in the first place. Additional time was lost as the boys haggled with the shop owner over the price of a few oddly packaged snacks to take with them. All in all, it was a full forty five minutes from the time Kato said they need to leave and the time which they actually ventured out from under the protection of the canopy. The sky had darkened and the rain still had not abated.
The streets were crowded with people, umbrellas, bicycles, and cars, all vying for space. Paul led the group, using his size to clear a bit of a path for the disoriented adolescents he led. Just behind him strode Kato, giving directions, words of advice, and caution on streets entirely foreign to all in the group but him. After nearly an hour of walking they arrived, soaked and cold as they crossed the threshold of their hotel. Paul did not miss the frowns of disapproval from the employees mopping the entrance as the teens dropped their packs on the hotel lobby floor, promptly sprawling their wet bodies on any available furniture, whether it was meant to be sat on or not. Paul managed to herd them all onto one long couch, hoping they were tired enough to refrain from any antics in the few minutes it would take him to check in.
Kato joined him, more for his own piece of mind then of actual need Paul suspected. This group in particular were a rowdy bunch. From the stories she told, the groups his wife led never seemed to be so troublesome. The small woman behind the computer smiled pleasantly up at him. He tried to smile back. God, he was so tired.
“Paul Binger and company, checking in for the night.” he said, trying to keep the frustration of the day out of his voice.
The woman nodded. “Yes sir, we have been waiting for you.” she chirped, then reached for the phone.
Paul breathed a soft sigh of relief and couldn't help a quick look of satisfaction in Kato's general direction as he replied. “Well, that's a welcome relief, let me tell you. I've been looking forward to a long hot shower ever since I stepped off the plane.”
The woman's smile did not waver. “Yes sir, I'm sure you have. Please wait a moment.” she said as she she shifted her body slightly away from him. Paul felt his relief slip a few notches as she whispered softly into the receiver, in a language he could only assume was Mandarin.
“Uh, sure.” he said as Kato stepped a bit closer.
“What is she saying?” he whispered.
“It seems as though her supervisor is coming to speak with you.” Kato replied neutrally.
“That can't be good.”
Kato was silent as the woman hung up the phone and a thin middle aged man came out from a room down the hall. He wore a polite smile which put Paul immediately on guard. Something was wrong. The man gave a slight bow then held out his hand.
“Mr. Binger, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Mr. Han, night supervisor. How are you?” he asked.
Paul shook his hand hesitantly. “Not sure how to answer that at the moment.” he said. “Is something wrong Mr. Han?”
Mr. Han smiled again. “No, no, Mr. Binger, everything is fine.”
Paul looked over to the woman at the counter then back to the supervisor. “Uh huh. Okay. That's good. Can we check into our rooms?”
Mr. Han's smile morphed into a look of apologetic remorse with an ease Paul suspected only came with years of daily practice in front of the mirror. “Yes, about your rooms Mr. Binger. First, you must understand we are a very busy hotel. We turn away so many potential guest daily that we have had to enact a very strict punctuality policy. This is to ensure we can happily house as many guests as possible. It is a terrible thing to turn someone out into the streets when we have empty rooms still in the building. You understand?”
Paul looked over to Kato, who grimaced. He turned back to the night supervisor. “I'm beginning to.” he said cautiously.
“Wonderful.” Mr. Han exclaimed. “Then you understand our position?”
“What I understand is we don't have our rooms any more. Am I right Mr. Han?” Paul asked, again, trying to keep his voice even.
“Please believe me Mr. Binger, we held onto them as long as we we're reasonably able. Normally we give our guests a thirty minute grace period, but given the extra, ah,” he looked quickly over to the teens sprawled on the now damp and undoubtedly smelly couch, “challenges you described when making your reservation, we doubled that time to accommodate you.”
Seeing how he had a few words, which mainly used four letters at a time to describe his feelings towards this supposed generosity, Paul held his tongue. Quite literally, with his teeth. The man currently dashing his hopes of a warm shower and soft bed for the evening, continued.
“Unfortunately, once an hour had past we had no choice but to give the rooms to customers who were patiently waiting for an opening. So as you can see....”
Paul did a simple calculation in his head as Mr. Han continued his lengthly explanation and realized they would have made it. If not for the delay caused by a fruitless search for rain gear and an unfortunate attack-by-dried-sardine. He sighed audibly. Mr. Han paused mid-apology and looked warily up at the tall American. It was a reaction which prompted Paul to re-think the angry words bubbling up into his throat. No doubt the esteemed night supervisor had to deal with these kind of situations on a regular basis. He doubted most people traveling from his country were easy to talk down from irate indignation. Not after a fifteen hour flight and suffering jet lag. He could imagine the verbal backlash Mr. Han expected to deal with all to well.
Suddenly he did not feel so exhausted. Worried about where in this city he was going to take four weary teenagers and one unamused translator to spend the night, certainly, but oddly, not so bone tired. He looked over to the teens, back to the night supervisor, then finally to Kato.
“Do you think you can help me find a place to put these kids for the night if we leave?” he asked quietly. He didn't want the teens overhearing a raising a ruckus just now. Kato stared back with surprised eyes.
“You will leave?” he asked. Without throwing a fit? Paul mentally finished for him. He smiled.
“Doesn't really look like we have a choice does it?” he said, then turning to Mr. Han, who was beginning to realize he just might be getting a stay of execution. “I assume we will be getting our first night's deposit returned to us, seeing how we didn't technically skip out on you?”
Mr. Han swallowed, looked from Paul to Kato to Paul, then comically back to Kato once more. Kato caught his eye and gave a slight shake of his head, the meaning of which was lost on Paul. Whatever the intention, it worked. Mr. Han nodded then turned back to the night clerk, conversing with her rapidly in Mandarin. She nodded, smiling up at them before rapidly punching in a series of commands to her computer. A few moments later Paul was signing his refund receipt and Kato was uncomfortably holding a pink basket of complimentary soaps and shampoos Mr. Han had somehow found fit to give the departing group.
After a few loud and inelegant minutes of convincing the four tired teens to return to the rainy streets, they found themselves on the sidewalk, jostled by pedestrians and being waved goodbye by the relieved night shift of their former hotel. The teens waved back, perplexed but amused, then hurriedly chased after the two adults in the group who were already venturing out into the rainy night.
Paul followed Kato and the kids followed Paul. It must have been an entertaining sight to passersby, but none in the group was in the mood to appreciate the humor at the moment. They headed down the street, trying one western style hotel after another, only to be turned away on grounds ranging from the typical “no vacancy”, to the downright rude “no vagrants”. An hour passed and they were soaked through, standing under yet another market canopy with no place to rest for the night. It was like the story of the nativity, but with teenagers and no virgin mother. The thought brought a fleeting smile to Paul's lips.
He checked his watch and the smile vanished. Nearly ten o'clock. He knew the kids wouldn't be able to go on much longer and told Kato as much. His interpreter nodded.
“I do not think you will find any luck on this street Mr. Binger.” he said. “It is late and many westerners are arriving this time of the year.”
“So I've noticed.” Paul replied dryly then lowered his voice. “I gotta tell you though, I'm at a loss Kato.” He picked up one of the shampoos in the basket and held it up to the light. “The hotel was my starting point but now it's gone. I know what we're supposed to do over the next two weeks, but I need a place to put us while we're doing it.”
Kato frowned as he listened. “There is one place nearby I know of but,” he grimaced. “it's not anything near what you would have expected at the hotel.”
Paul nearly laughed. “Considering the manholes to the sewers are looking pretty tempting to me at the moment, I doubt not having the nightly mint on my pillow is going to make a difference.”
Kato looked dubious.
“You are sure?”
Paul clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture which seemed to unnerve the small translator a bit. “Lead on brother.” he said. Kato looked at him as though he expected him to take the words back, shrugging when he didn't.
“This way.” he said, pulling up his hood and walking out into the rain. Paul and the teens scrambled to gather up their gear and follow him.
They walked another twenty minutes, the rain falling harder than ever. It was as though a monsoon had decided to take a personal grudge against them. Turning off the main strip which had brought them so much misfortune for the night, Kato led them down a series of side streets. One of the girls made a comment about the movie Labyrinth and Paul had to agree with her. He fervently hoped nothing happened to Kato because they were never finding their way out of this if it did.
Finally, after nearly half an hour had passed Kato came to a halt and unceremoniously pointed up. “It is not perfect, but it is dry.” he announced.
Paul took a long look at the three storied structure. It was well lit from the inside, with several paper lanterns swaying precariously under the wooden overhang in front. There seemed to be a great many people inside, laughing, singing, with the occasional female shriek thrown in. The smell of incense and humanity wafted out from the swaying fabric which seemed to serve as a door for the wide entrance of the establishment. He could feel the heat from inside drifting out to their tired group in the rain and they all unconsciously leaned towards it. Despite the allure of the warmth, Paul felt a stirring of hesitation. He turned to Kato.
“This is a hotel?” he asked.
The smaller man looked at the building then after a moment gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Of sorts. People sleep here sometimes.”
Paul looked at the unfamiliar language on the overhead sign, then to the men and women laughing around the entrance. “Do they even have room for us?”
For the first time since they met, Kato smiled. “My grandmother owns this building. She will make sure you have a place to sleep tonight.”
Paul was still dubious but the whines of the teens behind him were grating on his nerves. He shrugged. “God bless your grandmother Kato. Lead the way.”
Kato obliged.
A minute later Paul found himself standing in the middle of a boisterous crowd with four wide-eyed teens all but clutching at his clothes. He felt his jaw opened then shut, his mouth gone a bit dry with shock. He turned to Kato.
“Your grandmother owns a brothel?” he asked, perhaps just a bit too loudly.
Kato turned and smiled once more.
