Bobcat and Other Stories
Rebecca Lee
Language: English
Pages: 256
ISBN: 1616201738
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Rebecca Lee, one of our most gifted and original short story writers, guides readers into a range of landscapes, both foreign and domestic, crafting stories as rich as novels. A student plagiarizes a paper and holds fast to her alibi until she finds herself complicit in the resurrection of one professor's shadowy past. A dinner party becomes the occasion for the dissolution of more than one marriage. A woman is hired to find a wife for the one true soulmate she's ever found. In all, Rebecca Lee traverses the terrain of infidelity, obligation, sacrifice, jealousy, and yet finally, optimism. Showing people at their most vulnerable, Lee creates characters so wonderfully flawed, so driven by their desire, so compelled to make sense of their human condition, that it's impossible not to feel for them when their fragile belief in romantic love, domestic bliss, or academic seclusion fails to provide them with the sort of force field they'd expected.
downtown,” he said. “No, your real home. Your homeland.” He paused. “I am from Poland,” he said finally. “Then there. Let’s go there. I have always wanted to go to Poland.” Stasselova smiled. “Perhaps you would like it there.” “I have always wanted to see Wenceslaus Square.” “Well, that is nearby.” “Excellent. Let us go.” And Solveig swung open the front door and walked into the snow in her shorts and T-shirt. I kissed Hans good-bye, and Stasselova and I followed her. Once outside,
Mei-Mei Fai; or even an elaborate hairstyle I wanted to see in person. Aside from this impossible task, I began to love my summer in Hong Kong. What had made me such a poor traveler in the past, getting no farther than Canada and once, briefly, Mexico, and disliking even that, was that I had a love of repetition and schedule. Perfect days, for me, began with identical food and drink and activity; not until dusk would I develop the restlessness that is supposed to mark people in their twenties,
and dull—“Seems nice, dignified, beautiful, articulate.” The only time I was able even to approach the grandmother’s divination and intuition was when I described my new friend Rapti to myself. Not Chinese, I thought, but Filipino. Possesses strong heart. Loves a just God, and children. Industrious. Lives in apricot light. RAPTI ASKED, A GLEAM in her eye, “Have you found a wife yet for your corrupt little Min?” It was close to midnight. We were sitting on a large rock on a rocky beach. Behind
“Heaven is a city much like San Francisco—more beautiful because imperiled.” We carried on for a few seconds, but then realized she actually was crying, standing there. “What’s the matter?” Sands asked. “My father, he’s sick. They just told me. I have to leave tomorrow.” “Oh no!” Groovy said. And we all murmured. I looked over at Reuben. What will you do now, Reuben? What display now? What will spill out of you now? He stood so still, as the heartbroken always do, and then he went to her. He
finish the book and then I would burn it. But first there was tonight, and I had that rare thing, a date. My date was from Stasselova’s class. His name was Hans; he was a junior, and his father was a diplomat. He had almost auburn hair that fell to his neckline. He wore, always, long white shirts whose sleeves were just slightly, almost imperceptibly, puffed at the shoulders, like an elegant little joke, and very long, so they hung over his hands. I thought he was articulate, kind. I had in a