Melanie pinched a piece of fried crab wonton, dipped it in the sweet and sour sauce, and popped it into her mouth. After finishing it, she couldn't wait to taste the other dishes on the table: the orange chicken salad, the Manzhouli fried pork cutlet, and the almond fried chicken. Then she turned to Tommy Hawk with a look of amazement and praised him:
"If you really could get twenty thousand dollars, Tommy, you should start a Chinese fast-food restaurant. These dishes are fantastic. I've had Chinese food in Boston, and I don't think their food is as tasty as yours. This isn't just flattery; it's a fact."
Tommy Hawk was noncommittal about Melanie's compliments.
In reality, these American-Chinese dishes had nothing to do with authentic Chinese food—not even half a cent's worth. The fried crab wonton was made by wrapping artificial crab meat and cheese with wonton wrappers and frying them, served with American sweet and sour sauce. The orange chicken salad consisted of lettuce, boiled chicken breast, rice noodles, and peanuts, with a dressing made from citrus juice, vegetable oil, dry hot mustard, pickled ginger, and dried orange peel. The Manzhouli fried pork cutlet was a bite-sized pork cutlet fried with onions and seasoned with a sweet sauce. The almond fried chicken was coated in a batter mixed with almonds, then fried and served with a spicy sauce.
These dishes catered to the majority of American tastes and their stereotypical views of Chinese cuisine—that it all boils down to stir-frying or frying.
Tommy Hawk actually didn't possess any exceptional cooking skills, or rather, these dishes didn't require any. Any Chinese-person who had eaten them a few times and learned to cook could easily replicate them because the methods were so straightforward. This is also the main reason why these dishes appeared in over seventy percent of Chinese restaurant menus across the United States.
It was a deception that only worked on Americans who had never tasted real Chinese food.
Picking some rice noodles from the chicken salad with his fork and placing them on his plate, Tommy Hawk didn't pay much mind to Melanie's compliments. As he lowered his head to eat, he spoke, "If you have time tomorrow, contact Hugh Spade, tell him to meet you. Tell him you've made a hundred dollars and can pay him that to start with, in hopes you can get some of the photos back and get more time."
When Tommy Hawk spoke about Hugh Spade without any hint of small talk, using a voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation, Melanie, who had just adjusted her mood with the food, was taken aback and subconsciously reeled in the smile that was on her face, "Then what? I don't have a hundred dollars right now."
"Here's a hundred dollars." Tommy Hawk held a fork in one hand while he pulled out several bills from his pocket with the other, sliding them across the table towards Melanie.
Melanie glanced at the money in front of her, which consisted of twenty or ten-dollar bills.
"Did you earn this?"
"That's not all I've made. I've got three hundred dollars in my pocket, and there are a hundred and seventy Adderall pills and eighty Lunesta capsules in my bedroom," said Tommy Hawk neatly swallowing the food in his mouth. He wiped his lips and looked up at Melanie.
Melanie's eyebrows furrowed. She knew these prescription drugs were often used by young people to get high at parties. Even though they weren't classified as illicit like marijuana, they were under strict control: "So, not narcotics, but drugs."
"No, I told you, I don't plan to do any business that violates any laws of the United States. I just want to give Mr. Hugh Spade fifty Adderall and thirty Lunesta," Tommy explained.
"Give them to him? Giving him some prescription drugs won't get the police to arrest him; it will lead them back to you, which is a real problem. I don't agree with this," Melanie decisively objected.
Tommy Hawk said, "When he comes to collect the money tomorrow, you should just be portioning out those drugs in the living room. Tell him you took on the job of packaging them for me to make some money. Describe me as some deadbeat from high school who doesn't care about anything but somehow has a connection for prescription drugs, and that he's really short of cash. Seeing the drugs and knowing I'm just a high school kid, he'll likely take them due to being desperate for money and greedy. Just resist a little; let him take them—that's it, but make sure you get some of your photos back."
"You know, what really needs to be taken back are the negatives," Melanie said, lowering her head and sighing. The boy across from her was talking nonsense, making her question whether she had been too rash to believe he could help her out of trouble that afternoon.
"No, you need the photos, it's not time for the negatives yet," Tommy Hawk told Melanie with certainty in his tone.
Melanie frowned slightly, scrutinizing Tommy with doubt, "Then what?"
"Then, it's time for this high-school kid, who's suffered a loss, to go find him," Tommy Hawk said as he forked some rice noodles toward his mouth.
When Melanie was about to speak, Tommy Hawk continued, "Don't worry, there won't be any fighting like you're imagining. If he gets investigated by the police or goes to jail, then the public school will have an excuse to fire him, right?"
"Yes," Melanie nodded.
"The teacher's union has departments dedicated to listening to teachers' troubles, right? Like psychological counseling, legal advice, those kinds of departments?"
"The union does indeed provide us with support."
"After you send away Hugh Spade tomorrow, you should go to those departments in the union and seek some advice. For example; tell the psychological counseling staff about the psychological trauma you've suffered, how you've struggled to emerge from the shadow, but now the nightmares are returning. You're worried that if this continues, it'll seriously impact your teaching career, or worse, force you to leave the profession you love so much."
Usually focused during Tommy's instructions, Melanie had casually picked up a champagne glass and brought it up to her lips, but his words almost made her choke. She hurriedly covered her mouth with a napkin and looked at Tommy Hawk, "What are you talking about?"
"You once had a drug-addicted ex-boyfriend with nasty habits who deceived you with medication and then took many photos when you weren't fully conscious. Now he's trying to get close to and control you again, and that's freaking you out. That's the main reason you seek psychological counseling. The rationale for the legal advisers is similar; you want to ask them if, after all these years and with no evidence, you can legally force Hugh Spade to keep his distance from you. But whether it's counseling or legal advice, don't mention his name, just refer to him as your ex-boyfriend," Tommy Hawk continued:
"You should go for counseling and advice twice a week to make an impression on them. The rest of the time, continue with your substitute teaching. Leave the rest to me until I tell you it's time to prepare to be a witness to testify against Hugh Spade."
"A witness?" Melanie was stunned for a moment, "I'm a witness? Not the person preparing to sue him?"
Tommy Hawk tried a bite of his homemade fried pork chop and shook his head slightly, "It's a bit tough."
He then addressed Melanie's question, "Being a witness is more advantageous for you. There's a witness protection ordinance. From the moment you become a witness, it doesn't matter who has your photos, but if he dares to leak them again, you can hire a prominent lawyer to claim damages from the court on the grounds of compromising witness privacy. Thus, the court or rather the state government, to avoid being legally extorted by you, will definitely help you retrieve all your photos and negatives. That way, you won't have to face him head-on; you just need to help nail the last nail in the coffin when Hugh Spade lies down in it."
"What exactly are you planning to do, Tommy Hawk?" Melanie felt her brain couldn't keep up with Tommy's line of thought.
After swallowing his food, Tommy Hawk ignored Melanie's question and went on, "After we send him in, a position becomes vacant at Sinclair Elementary, and you, the witness, could take over from Hugh Spade and become the new teacher at Sinclair Elementary."
"Will the school agree to that?" Melanie asked incredulously, "What are you talking about, kid?"
"If the principal of Sinclair Elementary isn't an idiot, he better agree," replied Tommy Hawk, finishing his meal and lighting up a cigarette. He exhaled a puff of smoke and said in a flat, monotonous voice:
"Because if he doesn't agree, he'll lose his position as principal. He should understand how to make a wise choice between being ousted or giving you a job to keep his own."
Feeling a chill at her back, Melanie found all the food tasteless. She intently observed Tommy Hawk, whose face remained composed. It was clear the young man had a meticulous plan in mind; to him, her troubles seemed as easy to solve as a math problem, unworthy of any emotional reaction.
She seemed to hear an echo of what Tommy Hawk said on the way home, sitting in the passenger seat:
"I want to make a rich dinner. Usually, while doing mindless chores, I make it a habit to think about complex problems."
Although uncertain about what Tommy Hawk intended to do, intuition told Melanie that Hugh Spade was in big trouble.