He was a misfit, a wandering clown coming to New York from the Far East. From Hong Kong. He got lost drinking in basements, fighting in the Bowery and betting with the gamblers of Doyers Street.
Then he met Rosie. The most beautiful, witty and demanded in the brothel. The richest madam in town. The craziest girl of all.
They enjoyed 6 days and 7 nights together, drinking wine, eating cheese, smoking Cuban cigars. They stayed in bed fulfilling their dreams. They didn’t miss the bars.
And then one day, the evil was there. He told her something in the ear and she started crying. Her tears were blue, green and pink. They were getting bigger and heavier. She ran away, disconsolate.
The wandering clown, desperate, looked for her everywhere for the following 3 days. Always asking for the wrong direction. Missing the common sense.
Finally he went to Wan Lee’s Opium Den, the scariest hole in Chinatown. There he smoked until the end of the day, when he fell asleep and dreamed of her.
The miracle happened at midnight, just upstairs from the den. In the same motel where they promised each other eternal love. She appeared smiling. He sang her favorite song. She stabbed him in the heart. He asked her why. She never replied.
When he woke up, the moon wasn’t there. The sun was high and bright. He became a saint. The Fortune Giver of the Lower East Side. People from around town came to visit every day. He gave them good fortune. The one he once wanted to have himself.