I wore a suit and so did Mike. We looked like two businessmen at our table in the outer dining area. Mike looked into the main room wistfully, "They put us in Siberia."
"No, this room is favored by a lot of people, the menu is slightly more modest. I like seeing the people come in. Come on try to control your snobbishness."
"In Hong Cong, social appearance is everything. My Uncle jolly well would not go to a restaurant that did not offer the best table."
I signed. You can't change someone on one month summer's student exchange. But things looked up. Our waiter happened to be Chinese. An older fellow, spoke New York English, but also Cantonese, Mike explained to me between chattering with the fellow. "He thinks we are lovers." He laughed and lapsed into movie Chinese, "Who knows, old man always right." He emphasized it by squeezing my knee. Because we were in full view, two young guys across from us grinned.
The meal was perfect. This place never misses. Mike had fish, I had steak. The waiter made a gift of a desert, a lovely fudge cake. "Sorry no fortune cookies," he chuckled.
Mike had his usual two cocktails, I had only one drink, after all, I was driving. We picked up the car in the nearby garage and sped home. I wondered on the drive, how this night would end. We were both quiet, lost in our own thoughts.
As the drive went on, I began to feel unwell. I told Mike.
"What hurts?"
"Everything. I'm chilled and shivery. My throat feels thick and my glans are a bit swollen. I must be getting one of those short term viruses. We almost home, not a moment too soon."
Walking up the stairs from the garage, Mike put a hand on the middle of my back, helping me climb. Once in my room, I was suddenly weak and very chilled. I took off my shoes and jacket but fell into bed with my shirt and pants on, too woozy to undress.
As I closed my eyes, I felt the room spinning. When I opened them, Mike was looking down at me and he had a hand on my forehead. "You are hot. Where is your thermometer?"
He got it from the bathroom cabinet. "Too bad it's a mouth kind. It would have been fun to give you a rectal."
This was no time for jokes. I smiled weakly but stopped as the glass entered my mouth.
He looked at it like a doctor. "Son, you are sick boy. You have a hundred and one, a lot for a grownup. I'm going to undress you and cover you with extra blankets. If you sweat, that's good."
He quickly undressed me and covered me. I fell into a dreamless sleep. About two o'clock by the clock on the bedside, I awoke. I felt a little better, but thirsty. Somehow Mike knew I would be. He had sat the whole time on the chair, watching me.
"This is a drink with some herbs from my own supply. It should make you feel even better."
It tasted a bit like drinking flowers, but it went down well. He was right at hand to take the glass as I plunged into a deep sleep. It must have contained some old Chinese sleep potion.
The next morning, a miracle! I was perfectly well and full of energy. I crawled out of bed and woke up the sleeping Mike, curled uncomfortably on the chair.
"Hey China boy, wake up, I'm completely well."
He scrutinized me slowly, took my pulse, put his head on my chest to listen. Hey, this kid was a regular doctor.
"Bill, you are not completely well. You need to hang out, mostly in bed for the rest of the day. Regretfully, we must cancel the opera trip."
"I feel bad about that, it's hard to get tickets. I will try for next week. What will be do tonight, now that our plans are shot?"
He stared at me. "I have some ideas. I make a light dinner and we'll see. Right now, you ought to take a shower, you stink from the night's sweat...but nicely."
Taking the shower showed to me that I wasn't perfectly back to normal. I was breathing hard as I dried. I went back to my room and lay on the bed to get my wind back. Then finally got dressed in pull on shorts and a tee shirt.
I found Mike at the piano, doodling away at a strange song. "I didn't know you play. You are full of surprises. What is that odd melody?"
"Hah, I have been writing tone poems using the western musical vocabulary but using it to suggest old Chinese tunes. It has been well received at home." Suddenly he stopped and looked at me searchingly. "You know, you're swaying a bit. Time for a nap while I make us some lunch."
He was right. That virus really had taken the starch out of me. I went back to bed gratefully.
End Part Three