Blood Debts

Rui “Ray” Chang was an immigration and real-estate attorney in Fort Lee with a tiny office above a karaoke bar a stone’s throw away from the George Washington Bridge. But by night, Ray sipped human blood out of a flask and gambled in Chinatown. Texas hold ‘em was his jam.

It was a brisk evening in late March when Ray first began to remember things. For years he had lived with retrograde amnesia. But he had no idea why.

Ray was meeting with the pastor Ki Yun Yi of Pongno Presbyterian, a Korean church in Palisades Park that was being foreclosed on by Hamna Bank. The church had stood and continuously operated since 1897, and the central bell tower was its iconic feature. As the bell struck 8:00 pm, Ray’s eyes fixed on the small stained-glass cross over the entry vestibule, which shimmered in the light of the setting orange sun.

“What do I do,” asked Ki Yun, handing the Sheriff’s Sale Notice to Ray, with a Friday, April 24th sale date.

“Can you pay?” Ray asked.

“We are 18 months behind, and I’ve already gone back to the congregation to raise as much money as I can. Even with their help, we are over $100,000 in the red, here.”

“So, you sell.”

“I can’t sell a church in a month. Are you crazy?”

“It’s a $5,000 retainer. I can put the sale off until the end of June. Here’s a card for Orly Chaya, tough Israeli lady, best in the business. She’ll get you a buyer in no time.”

“I don’t want to sell to a developer that is going to tear the place down. This has always been a church”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. Let’s start by getting you some offers.”

“You will help me, Ray – I heard you were good – you will help me, right?”

“You are in good hands. Call my office, Monday. We will get you all set up.”

Ki Yun grabbed Ray’s arm forcefully, wrinkling his designer suit jacket. “I am not selling this church, Ray. You have to find a way to save it. Talk to the bank. I will find the money. You understand me.”

Ray paused a moment, before saying, “Sure, sure. We’ll see what we can do.”

Ray was not enamored of the law. It was plain to see that the fixed rules of law and procedure that lawyers danced around screwed over all the wrong people. To tell the truth, the law seemed entirely devoted to helping wretched bastards get away with murder. Right now, the sun was setting on the days of Pongno Presbyterian. But Ray found himself saying yes. They would probably put up some condominiums, or God forbid, another faux luxury rental building with “luxurious amenities.” That’s probably what they would do.

As Ray stood looking up at the cross, Ki Yun stepped outside to smoke a Camel Light.

“Thinking of converting,” he asked.

“No, just admiring the sunset.”

“Too bad, your grandpa was a congregant.”

“What?” Ray said. Ray’s grandfather died in Chongqing in 1716.

“Chen Chang. He was your grandpa, right? He was a lawyer too. Big benefactor. Very big. Always tithed with gold bars. We like gold here.”

“Sorry. It has just been a long time since anyone mentioned him,” Ray said.

“Wait… wait here,” Ki Yun said, running back inside and coming out with an envelope. “Take this. It was some kind of riddle he left in a note. Something for the old pastor.”

“And why are you giving it to me?”

“It says – in case of emergency – solve the riddle. No one ever knew the solution. If anyone can figure it out, you can, and this is a real emergency. You know.”

Ray opened the letter and read to himself.

“In the case of emergency, or should current troubles swallow the past… the riddle that follows will get you past.

When the giant’s shadow points east at dusk,

walk down the old road beneath the cliff.

Do not stop at the river.

Continue until the bridge disappears above you.

There are seven stone tables facing the water.

Beneath the last one, where the tide reaches further,

you will find what I buried when I ceased to be myself.”

“It is very strange. Any idea what it means?”

“Not a clue,” Ki Yun said, pulling on his Camel Light like it held the answers.

***

Ray sipped some fresh blood from his tin as he descended the winding path off River Road and down to the Hudson. Somehow, he had known he might lose his memory. Why?

As Ray saw the moonlight shimmer on the darkened path, he reached the point where the bridge above became invisible. But there were no stone tables, only large cairn-like mounds placed on a small pier-like protrusion that pushed out into the water.

Ray reached into his memory. He saw a man with a cane, looking behind him and before him, scared of being followed. He saw him placing a magnetized box onto a piece of metal underneath a slab of stone that doubled as a tabletop.

Instinctively, he was drawn to a particular stone slab, reached underneath and dislodged the magnetized box. The box was heavy and was the size of a large book, its contents moving as he lifted it. Ray hunched under a spotlight and pulled a pin from the hinge, opening the box.

Inside were a dozen or so 100-gram gold bullion bars worth nearly $200,000, a small gold locket, and a note. The note said, “Give the gold to the elders, keep the locket, and go find Bok-ja. She’ll tell you what you need to know. 1550 Lemoine Ave.”

***

The Mahjong joint over the failing norebang was flooded with fluorescent lighting, filled with folding tables, plumed by a cloud of cigarette smoke, with the cash from the games stashed in rice tins guarded by two men in slim fit Indochino suits. Bone mahjong tiles clicked on fiberglass boards while women’s voices rose and fell with the action.

On one wall were paper scrolls featuring the four winds. On another wall was a framed Jesus Christ personage in neon lights. An LED flex-neon kept flashing phrases like "Winner Winner," "Pung!", "Kong!"

Bok-ja chain-smoked Esse Lights from a sterling silver cigarette case engraved with her name in cursive. She flicked it open in one motion with her thumb. She was a tiny hunched over woman with a giant perm, oversized brown tortoiseshell glasses with tinted lenses, and a deep voice that could stop traffic.

“You used to be handsome. Now you look like tax fraud.”

“I don’t remember you, that’s the problem.”

“Men. Can’t remember anything. And expect a woman to help.” She waved her hand at him. “You should go now. You are bothering me already.”

“We know each other?”

“You wish you knew me like that, honey.”

“I just need to know why I forgot everything.”

“Some things are better off forgotten. Like you, for one.”

“I did something?”

Bok-ja tapped ash into the offertory bowl.

“A vampire forgets when he brings shame on his own name,” she said.

Ray stared at her.

“What did I do?”

“It’s a mercy you don’t remember.”

“I need to know.”

She studied him for a long moment.

“You won’t like it.”

“Tell me.”

Bok-ja slammed down her tiles, grabbed another woman by the shoulder pads of her cheap blazer and pulled her into her seat, signaling for her to play. Then she waved one of the men in the Indochino suit, who opened a door.

“I have to deal with this lost puppy. You all try and behave while I’m gone.”

Then Bok-ja rose and they walked into a back room.

***

In the lounge, Bok-ja seemed to hover above the floor as she moved swiftly to a leather backed chair that swallowed her like a Venus fly trap. Ray walked over and began to take a seat in the couch next to her.

“No, you stand. I want to get a good look at you.”

Ray stayed standing, looking down at the woman.

“What happened to your face? Inflation?”

“Out with it.”

“It’s not so simple. Do you even remember what vampires are?”

“I remember my life in Chongqing as a child in the 1700s, then I am practicing law here in Fort Lee. Nothing in between.”

“Oh, that’s bad. Worse than I thought. I knew you did a bad thing? What else did you do?”

Ray shrugged.

“We are not meant to feed on people,” Bok-ja said. “We are meant to carry them. Their names. Their stories. Their grief. That is the bargain. We are protectors – and our powers are meant to serve a pledge to one group of people.”

She lit another Esse.

“A vampire is given a charge. Yours was this Presbyterian church, its members, the whole community around it. And if you violate that, you lose your memory.”

“I don’t remember a thing about that.”

“It took a hundred years before you received your assignment. But, when you did, you were devoted. Really devoted.”

“What could have happened.”

“She happened. Mina. The Mudang witch.”

“I’ve never heard of any Mina. Where is she now?”

“She’s dead, honey. You drained her neck.”

“I did what? I killed.”

“Don’t act so shocked.”

“But if she was a witch, then why was that a problem.”

“She wasn’t just any witch. She was also a congregant of the church. Founding family or some such. You see, it gets complicated.”

“And why would I kill her.”

“That’s a long story. It starts one night when she charmed you, and then involved you in good luck seeking incantations, blood debts—dumb shit, and dumber shit—and you ate it all up, because she was beautiful and you were stupid—you see where this is going.”

“We were a thing. And then I killed her?”

“The locket is the key to getting your memory back, but before you take the leap, I’d take a hard look in the mirror. You aren’t who you think you are.”

“Who am I?”

“Someone whose overstayed their welcome. Now get out of my sight, will you.”

***

When you hate daylight, like Ray did, you become a bit paranoid about your itinerary and spend a lot of time with the Weather Channel tab open on your laptop. Today was overcast, but Ray still wore his black Ray Ban’s with his Tom Ford suit anyway.

As a boy, Ray had felt like he would live forever, now he wasn’t sure he wanted to live out the week and face his past. This kind of self-reflection generally doesn’t go well for lawyers, let alone immortal vampires, especially those whose rap sheet apparently includes murder.

Ray stopped by the church on his way back from the Sheriff’s Office in Hackensack.

“You’ve got until July 5th.”

“Thank God.”

“You still didn’t send Susie that retainer.”

“I will take care of it today.”

“Oh, another thing. I think you’ll be okay.”

“What happened.”

“Here take this.”

“What is it?”

“Anonymous benefactor.”

“Oh my God! How much is this worth?”

“Enough to save your ass, that’s how much.”

“Your grandpa was right. You are my hero.”

“Don’t get too excited, not yet. We still have to get a reinstatement quote, you have to get that gold converted to cash, get it in the bank, and wire the funds. Then I have to get the case dismissed, the lis pendens canceled… we aren’t there yet. Get me that retainer. This isn’t legal aid.”

“You are my hero, Ray Chang. I am sending everyone to hire you from now on.”

“Please don’t.”

***

Ray Chang’s office was a joke. Third-floor staircase landing. Dogleg right. Susie’s desk. Overhung the reception door entrance. Susie. Greeted you as you entered. Far wall. Home to a pleather couch. Glass coffee table. Dated New Yorker sneering at the New York Times. Ray’s office. So close you could read the brief on his desk.

When Ray returned to his office, someone was seated and waiting. Ray rushed past Susie and slumped at his desk. He missed her cue.

“Uh, Ray,” she screamed out loud. “Someone to see you.”

“Not now, Susie.”

“Ms. Wu is here,” she said.

But Ray’s thoughts were elsewhere.

He opened the locket and there was a picture of a stunning woman. She was part Lucy Liu, part black panther. A thing of the shadows. Alluring, but isolated. A creature at once independent and deadly.

Ray’s mind flashed back to the private room at Phillipe Chow. A little room downstairs, filled with TVs. They were both there. They were arguing. He heard her say, “A man does not turn back on a promise…” He was saying, “Don’t make me do this—you understand what it will mean for us—I won’t remember you.” There was a briefcase on the table, by the chicken satay and shrimp dumplings. Inside was the little box. “I am dying, Ray. Do you love me or not.” They kept talking, but the scene flashed forward, and he was there biting her neck, blood dripping down over the crest of her breasts as the luster of her eyes turned pale.

When Ray’s eyes opened, she was there.

“Miss me, baby?” she said.

Ray sat back in his chair in shock.

“You are here.”

“You are remembering. Good. Took long enough.”

“You knew this would happen.”

“I’m insulted. I thought I’d left more of an impression.”

“Why did you do this to me?”

“Do what? Free you from your duty? Give you freedom?”

“This is not freedom. I don’t even know who I am.”

“Boo hoo.”

She slammed a card down on his flimsy office supply store polyurethane desk. It said, “VP Hamna Bank.”

“What’s this?”

“I’ve returned Ki Yun’s wire. It is rejected. I want that church. That is my family’s church.”

“I pledged…”

“You think I am going to destroy it?”

“You have to accept the reinstatement payment. By law. The court will intervene.”

“Don’t talk to me about the law. That church was taken from us.”

“I can’t let you have it, Mina.”

“Try and stop me,” she said. And left.

“Susie, hold my calls,” Ray said, running out the door.

***

“What is this?” Ki Yun said, “How can they refuse the payment?”

“They can’t,” Ray said.

“Then what happened?”

“Mina Wu happened.”

“She’s our bank representative.”

“And that is no coincidence.”

“But these are bankruptcy papers, Ray. I don’t want to go bankrupt.”

“You want to save the church or not?”

“Of course.”

“Sign the papers.”

“How does this work?”

“You’ll reaffirm the debt in bankruptcy and pay it out of your new donation. Then the bankruptcy will get dismissed.”

“Whatever you say, Ray. I’m in your hands.”

“That you are.”

“And get Susie that retainer – I can’t file this until you do – technically, you still are not a client.”

“You got it Ray.”

“I gotta go, I have to see someone.”

***

“You again,” Bok-ja said. “What happened to you? You look like church coffee.”

“Nice to see you too.”

“Mina is alive and she wants the church.”

“Your extended family started that church … with Mina’s extended family.”

“We’re related? Gross. I don’t see the resemblance. The church has been there for one hundred years. Why is it so important?”

“Well. Crazy loves crazy. What can I say? It is one of those things. Your families have been fighting over that church for over one hundred years.”

“I still haven’t got my memory back – I need to know what my pledge means.”

“What do I look like, the oracle? I only know what you told me Ray. And that was more than I wanted to know. You’re a lawyer. You should understand better how things work.”

“If I don’t know what my pledge is…”

“…What you need to be spoon-fed.”

“I need to know what to do.”

“I am an elder of the church, you know. It is an institution. It holds the community together. Something has to.”

“And what is my role.”

“No one can decide that for you. Now get out of here. Your face lowers the property value.”

***

When Ray got back to his office, Mina was waiting in his office like she’d moved in.

“Do you even work here, Susie – what the hell.”

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer, Mr. Chang. What? You want me to call the cops?”

“I don’t know, do something.”

“Nice to see you too, babe,” Mina said.

“What’s this?” Mina said slamming the bankruptcy petition on the table.

“That’s a little old thing that says – Go away.”

“Well played. But that won’t stop me.”

“How about this,” Ray said pushing a medical report across the table.

“Sloan Kettering. Touché. You did your research.”

“You didn’t have breast cancer. Stage 4 or otherwise. So why did you make me bite you?”

“Even the playing field. Couldn’t have you going on and on for a thousand years while I was fertilizing daisies. Hardly seemed like a fair fight.”

“I thought you wanted more time with me.”

“A girl has to tell a man what he wants to hear from time to time.”

“I guess we are stuck together now.”

“Guess so.”

“Now I just have to figure out a way to get rid of you.”

“Good luck, honey.”

And then they both said in unison, “This is going to be fun.”

They both looked at each other surprised and embarrassed.

“Here’s an idea – let’s go, the two of us. Forget the church. You always liked Vienna.”

“And let the church die?”

“Why not? Why is it your cross to bear?”

“Funny you should ask. I was trying to figure that out. Before it was a church, it was an informal worship group in a factory basement. They took in a little boy named Riu. An immigrant.”

Mina smiled. “There he is.”