“Yes, why do you have bottle of absinthe?” Ma says, the world’s most judgmental smile dancing on her lips.
“I’m an entertainer!” Fourth Aunt snaps. “None of you understands the amount of energy we need to have to even get ourselves out on stage, and then afterward, we need something to help us come down. You should be grateful my drug of choice is just a shot of absinthe. Most other entertainers go with coke.”
“Coke got so much sugar,” Big Aunt sniffs. “Better drink Coke Zero, otherwise later you get diabetes.”
“She means cocaine—never mind. So then what happened?”
“I got the absinthe and we carried the body to the groomsmen suite. I just burst in there and went, ‘You boys ready to party?’ while waving the bottle around. The groomsmen were like, WOW, beautiful girl AND alcohol?”
“I think they only notice the alcohol,” Ma mutters.
“They were whistling!”
“At the alcohol!”
“Okay, okay,” I whisper-shout over them. “Then what happened?”
“Well, I used my womanly wiles to lead them to the far side of the living room, and while we opened the bottle and poured shots for everyone, your mother and Second Aunt carried the body inside and put him in one of the bedrooms. Everything went smoothly, and THEN your mother had one of her crazy ideas—”
“Not crazy,” Ma huffs. “I just want to make sure they not so—you know—not so alert. Because if they so alert, if they find out too early that there is dead body in the bedroom, then that will be very bad.”
“Ma, just tell me, what did you do?”
“I just—I see many bottles of champagne in their kitchen, so I open one or two and I put some—you know.”
I take a deep breath. Be strong, self. “I don’t know. What did you put in the bottles?”
“Just Chinese medicine, very good for health.”
“It’s weed,” Fourth Aunt says, triumphantly.
“WHAT?” Good grief, I don’t even know where to begin. There’s the fact that my mother has drugged a dozen groomsmen. Or maybe the fact that my mother carries around a stash of marijuana with her. What in the actual F??
“No, no, it is traditional Chinese medicine,” Ma huffs. Spare me from yet another round of sibling rivalry.
“Traditional Chinese medicine doesn’t include marijuana!” I almost scream, but at the last minute remember to lower my voice.
“No, original recipe call for a type of fungus—it is called dong chong xia cao,” Ma admits. “But wah, dong chong xia cao so expensive! So I look everywhere for substitute, and then someone on Internet tell me there is this very good herb, called Tetris Hydro Canned Oil. Very good for pain.”
“She means tetrahydrocannabinol,” Fourth Aunt says. Fleetingly, I wonder if she’s memorized what THC stands for just for this moment.
“THC? Ma, that’s the active ingredient in marijuana!” Oh my god.
“No, this one is different. This herb is very good for blood flow, you know how winter really affect my bones, very bad, so painful, these are helping me. It has a bit of side effect, make me feel a bit woozy.”
“They get you high,” Fourth Aunt says.
“No high, just a bit woozy.”
I close my eyes. “So between the two of you, those poor groomsmen got drunk AND high? You could’ve killed them!”
“Aduh, touch wood, don’t say such bad luck thing,” Second Aunt says, knocking on a nearby tree.
“Don’t say such bad luck thing?” I cry, torn between laughing and crying. “I mean, it’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”
“Tch,” Ma tuts, “don’t be rude, Meddy. I raise you better than that.”
This is unreal. Another deep gulp of air. “Right, so you guys drugged the groomsmen, and then . . .”
“And then we leave, that is all,” Ma says. “When we leave they all still happy happy, all laughing.”
“But how did Ah Guan end up on the altar?”
My aunts and mom shrug, but I don’t need them to answer. I can piece it together by now. I see it so clearly in my mind’s eye. One of the groomsmen would’ve gotten a call from a panicky WP, asking where the hell are they, the ceremony’s starting soon. They would’ve scrambled to get dressed. The room would’ve been spinning, they would’ve been stumbling everywhere, and then one of them maybe went in the bedroom to get something and saw Ah Guan in bed. I watch it unfold like a movie in my mind. He totters to Ah Guan and nudges him. Figures that maybe Ah Guan had passed out, and in his absinthe-marijuana-addled mind, he thinks the best course of action is to drag Ah Guan to the ceremony. He calls the others inside to help, and one other groomsman appears. Together, they lug Ah Guan out of bed, laughing over what a lightweight he is. The floor tips under their feet and they nearly fall, but it’s all part of the fun. They no longer even know which side is up.