The Rattle-Rat

\\\\\ 26 /////

" Was everything as expected?" Mr. Wang asked.

The commissaris dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "Yes, certainly, a delicious dish of fried rice, Mr. Wang."

"A cognac?"

"Some tea?" the commissaris asked. "Pot of tea and two cups?"

Wang brought the pot.

"Do sit down," the commissaris said.

"Tea," Mr. Wang said, "to celebrate our meeting. I often celebrate with tea." He sat down, poured the tea, and held up his cup. "I celebrated when two of my children were stillborn, and I celebrated again when two others arrived alive."

"They're doing well?" the commissaris asked.

Wang opened his mouth and pointed at his gleaming teeth. "One is a good dentist."

"And the other?"

"He helps to develop warheads of atomic missiles," Mr. Wang said. "In the United States. A genius, that boy. I had tea with him when he finished his studies, and Til have tea again when his first missile hits a large city."

"Your nephews," the commissaris said, "the young fel- lows that my colleagues arrested here two days ago, will be expelled, after they've done their time in jail."

Wang sipped his tea.

"And if they show up again," the commissaris said, "which may be soon, for they won't be locked up long, you might want to call me." He presented his card. "Phone me at home, I'm usually in at night."

"I stay away from phones,"Wang said.

"Your Dutch is really impeccable," the commissaris said.

"I was born here in Bolsward," Mr. Wang said.

The commissaris poured tea. "I was born here, in Joure, we're both Frisians."

Mr. Wang laughed. "We're both Earthmen," Mr. Wang said. "We do have a lot in common. Maybe I will phone you after all. Aren't you the commissaris who's often mentioned in the paper? Will you be arresting my nephews here?"

"I'll catch them at Wo Hop's," the commissaris said. "By the way, about Mr. Wo Hop…"

Mr. Wang shook his small, smiling head.

"No?" the commissaris asked. "Would I be overreaching myself?"

"Yes," Mr. Wang said.

"A pity," the commissaris said. "And to think that I'm fighting on the side of Good."

"Maybe that's why."

The commissaris looked about him. Mr. Wang pointed out a green dragon that had been painted on the wall above the bar. The dragon was nuzzling his own tail.

"That's Wo Hop," Mr. Wang said. "Give him time. He'll eat himself."

"He's rather a long beast," the commissaris said. "And he hasn't even taken his first bite."

"Soon," Mr. Wang said.

"Westerners aren't known for the exercise of patience," the commissaris said. "What would you advise me to do in the meantime?"

"Drink lots of tea," Mr. Wang said. He got up and walked to the bar. He came back with a can. On the can, a picture had been painted showing a turning wheel. At the center a cock, a pig, and a snake were turning spokes.

"My present to you," Mr. Wang said. "There's good tea in the can. Patience tea. You can accept the present. It's worth only a few guilders, and you did rid me of the nephews."

The commissaris studied the picture. "The wheel of life," Mr. Wang said, "moving because of the powers of pride, greed, and mean behavior."

"Will it turn forever?"

"It'll break by itself," Mr. Wang said. "Won't take long now."

The commissaris paid the check.

Mr. Wang walked him to the door.