Ghosts of Chinatown
“Hey, man, cool your jets. This is not the establishment to have wacko attacko.”
    Harlan drops Todd onto the floor. Todd looks up to the table but Cam and Angela are gone. He stands and grabs Harlan.
    “Where’d they go?”
    “Where did who go?”
    “Angela and Cam. They were sitting at this table.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    Todd lets go of Harlan. He searches under the table, scans the room, goes behind the bar, but there is no sign of Cam or Angela.
    Desperation of an incomprehensible intensity comes through loud and clear although he’s barely whispering.
    “Do you know what it’s like to be haunted, knowing you’ve done something wrong? I dream dreams, I see visions. Things I can never forget. Things I wish that I never knew.”  
    Harlan comes over, disdain for Todd running amok.
    “Hey, man, I’m running a business. Cut the crap. Now order something or get lost. Wasted enough time on you already.”  
    Todd grabs Harlan’s shirt lapels and shakes him. “Where did Cam and Angela go?
    “Okay, enough’s enough. We’re done.”
    Harlan rips Todd’s hands off his shirt, knocking him down into the chair and onto the floor. “Go home, get some sleep. Sober up. Comprendes, amigo?”
    “No, I do not comprendez because I’m not drunk.”
    “Then you’re a druggie and I hate those guys even worse.”
    Harlan picks him and throws him out the door. “Welcome to Chinatown.”
    Todd turns around and looks inside the Ho Inn. Cam and Angela are sitting at the table in friendly conversation as Harlan serves them drinks.
    He balls his fists and scampers off.

Chapter 20
    I love two men. One from my home, one from my heart. Neither understands the other and I don’t know what to believe. My father has always protected me and has never been wrong. Todd, I just don’t know, but he has affected me in a way that is more than anyone I have ever known… I can’t believe that he would hurt me.
    These thoughts conflict Jasmine as she treads around the debris in the dark alley leading to the Rialto Theater. Arriving at the stage entrance, she knocks on the door—it’s a reflex. She doesn’t have to knock but does.  
    Nadir, the security guard, opens the heavy metal entrance. “No visitors.” However, he doesn’t see anyone and steps outside. Puzzled eyes sweep the area. “Hello, who’s there?”
    But he does not see anybody there.
    Jasmine blows directly past him into the building.
    “Bloody kids.” He shakes his head, goes back into the building and shuts the door.  

    ***

    In this dressing room is a long mirror lined with lights with counter space for chairs for seven actors and their make-up artists. It’s empty now save for Vicky. Even though she’s as sexy gorgeous as she was five years ago, there’s something about her that’s a little edgier, a little harder. Clad in a bathrobe, Vicky looks in the mirror as she removes her make-up. She wears a locket around her neck identical to the one that Todd wears. She hears a voice that is vaguely familiar but not quite recognizable.
    “Hello, Vicky.”  
    Vicky continues taking off the make-up without turning to the voice. She haughtily replies, “I don’t appreciate visitors. How did you get backstage through security?”
    “I don’t need anyone’s approval.”
    “How dare you?”
    Vicky whips around and is petrified to see Jasmine standing there. Her face flashes tension in the mirror as she sees her reflection—but not Jasmine’s.
    “Jasmine! What... how...”
    Vicky sprints to the door but it is locked. She quickly hides the locket under her robe.
    Jasmine’s voice is full of sadness. “You don’t need to run, Vicky. I won’t hurt you. You can relax.”
    Vicky does not believe Jasmine but has no choice but to respond to her old playmate.
    “Hello, Jasmine. It’s been awhile.”
    This conversation between ghost and living is so foreign to Westerners as to be unbelievable but to Chinese, it is normal as breathing. The spirit world is not

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