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Pag 78

UP IN SMOKE

After the most excruciating practice of my life finally came to an end, I was completely aware of the fact that my princehood was going to make me miserable. At this rate, would I even survive to graduation? For the first time, I thought seriously about gathering my things and quietly slipping away into the night, as Yuen Ting, the first Biggest Brother, had done years ago. Yuen Biao’s suggestion of becoming a street acrobat didn’t sound like a bad idea.

I slumped down against the wall of practice hall, exhausted. After the workout, Master had left the school to go meet friends, giving us a rare evening to ourselves. It was hours yet until lights out, so I headed for the storage room to catch some quick shut-eye.

Dazed and stumbling, I almost didn’t recognize the rough hand that grabbed my shoulder as I made my way down the corridor. “What is it?” I mumbled, listlessly turning around. It was Yuen Lung.

Oh no, my clouded brain thought. Not now.

But Biggest Brother didn’t look like he wanted to fight. Not this time, anyway.

“It’s Yuen Biao,” he said. “He’s sick. You’d better come over.”

Out in the courtyard, a crowd of students were crouched around Little Brother, who had his hands clenched tightly to his stomach.

“What’s wrong, Yuen Biao?” I said, shaking the sleep out of my head.

“My stomach hurts,” he said tearfully.

“Ah, you probably just ate too much,” said Yuen Tai. “I saw you cramming cookies in your face at lunch.”

Yuen Lung gave Second Biggest Brother a punch on the shoulder. “Shut up, moron,” he said. “Master and Madame won’t be back until late. If the kid croaks, we’re gonna be neck deep in crap.”

Yuen Tai gulped. “Uh, maybe should we give them a call.”

Biggest Brother rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, anyone know where they are? Besides, I ain’t  gonna be the one to interrupt Master on his night out.”

I helped Yuen Biao sit up. “What’s good for a stomachache?” I asked.

The other students muttered to one another.

“Ice cream?” said Yuen Kwai. Yuen Lung slapped him in the head.

Then Yuen Wah spoke up. He was a thin kid whose mastery of martial arts form had us all in awe. When we did “freeze” practice, he’d still be as

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motionless as a stage long after the rest of us collapsed. He could stand on his hands indefinitely. In fact, once when Master told us to take a break, he kept on going, head to the ground, until someone realized that he’d actually fallen asleep upside down.  

It was almost inhuman, and it lent a kind of supernatural air of authority to his words. He didn’t speak a lot, but when he did, we listened. Even Biggest Brother. “I heard that smoking cigarettes was a good way to cure an upset stomach,” he said. Other kids quickly chimed in that they’d heard that, too.

The problem was that the only cigarettes to be found anywhere at the academy were owned by Master and Madame. And so, to save Yuen Biao’s life, someone would have to sneak into their room and steal some smokes!

A discussion began as to who would be the best candidate for the job. Yuen Lung and Yuen Tai refused, on the grounds that such a matter was best handled by juniors. The younger students responded that it was the duty of the elders to take care of them, so they shouldn’t be doing it, either.

Meanwhile, Yuen Biao moaned.

“I got it,” said Yuen Lung, finally. “Prince Big Nose’ll do it.”

“What?” I sputtered. “Why me?”

“He’s your best friend,” said Biggest Brother. “Besides, figure it this way: if anyone else is caught doing it, you’re gonna get punished too, right? So why get two people screwed when you can take the heat on your own?”

I had to admit, the logic was inescapable. After some more halfhearted attempts to pass the buck, I threw up my hands and went back inside.

Master and Madame’s quarters were in the same building as the school, down the corridor from our complex. My heart was pounding as I crept down the hallway. Opening the door, I went into their bedroom and saw several packs of smokes scattered on Madame’s bedside table. One of them was open and half full. I grabbed it like a lifeline, pulled out a few cigarettes, and headed back toward the corridor.

Then I had a revelation: when they got back, Madame would surely realize that cigarettes were missing, and the jig would be up. But what if I took an entire pack? She’d probably just think she’d dropped it on the floor. She probably wouldn’t even notice it was gone at all. Feeling clever, I out the pilfered cigarettes back and slid one of the plastic-wrapped packs off the tabletop into my palm. Holding it concealed in my hand, I tiptoed back out of the room, feeling stupid; it’s not like there was anyone to witness my crime, so why was I sneaking around like—like a thief? Even so, I walked down the hall looking over my shoulder, as if as any moment Master was going to jump out of the shadows and whip me silly. When I finally made it downstairs and out to the courtyard, I felt like a

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conquering hero. I’d gone into the lion’s den and smuggled smokes out from under his nose. Well, not really. But I’d certainly done something that even big-shot Biggest Brother was too chicken to do.  

“Damn, he did it,” said Yuen Lung, seeing me walk forward, the pack held high above my head like a trophy. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Big Nose.”

It was backhanded praise, but from Biggest Brother it was like honey from a rock. He took the pack from my hand and pulled off the plastic wrapper, tossing it to the ground. Soon, all of us were sitting in a circle in the courtyard puffing on cigarettes, Yuen Biao’s troubles mostly forgotten in our eagerness to try out this new vice.

“How’s your belly, baby?” said Yuen Lung to Yuen Biao, his lit cigarette dangling from his power lip. He was the only one of us who managed to make it look kind of cool. As for the rest of us, one of the younger sisters accidentally burned herself and threw her cigarette away, screaming. Yuen Kwai was rolling on the ground coughing and hacking. Yuen Tai couldn’t keep his lit, and settled for holding it in the corner of his mouth, hoping that the other big brothers didn’t notice he was faking.

To me, the whole experience was like inhaling car exhaust, but I wasn’t going to be the only one to say so. Meanwhile, Biggest Sister, comforting the girl who got burned, told me that smoking was a filthy habit.

“Ah, we shouldn’t be wasting good smokes on girls anyway,” I responded, disgusted that she didn’t appreciate the glory of my victory. She picked up Little Sister and stalked off to put some soy sauce on the injury. They were soon followed by Yuen Biao, whose face had slowly turned green as he sucked on his smoke. It wasn’t long before he bolted from our circle and ran indoors, headed for the kitchen sink.

He came back a few minutes later, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I think I feel better,” he said. We broke down in laughter, and he puffed out his cheeks, pouting. “Stop it, guys, I told you I was sick!”

We were all feeling a little queasy by this time, so after declaring that the cigarettes were the smoothest ones we’d ever tasted (not to mention the only ones), we crumpled up the empty pack and carefully picked up stray butts and other evidence of the big smoke-out. “Ahh, nothing like a good smoke before bed,” said Yuen Tai.

Yuen Kwai and I looked at each other. “Whatever you say, Big Brother,” said Yuen Kwai, stifling a chuckle.

“Lights out in ten minutes,” shouted Biggest Brother. And we prepared to settle in for the night.

It was 3 A.M. when we were woken by a pounding on the door to the practice hall.

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“Dammit, Big Nose, we’re screwed,” muttered Yuen Lung, kicking his blanket away. “I thought you said he wasn’t gonna figure out we took ’em .”

I was in a state of panic. How did Master know? Did Master know? Did we leave something incriminating lying around in the courtyard? My earlier paranoia seemed justified. It was like magic. Master had eyes everywhere.

The door opened and Master walked in, his face blank. “Stand up and form a line, hands out, palms up,” he said.” he said. We quickly arranged ourselves in order of seniority, Yuen Lung at the head and the littlest brother at the end. Using the tip of his rattan cane, Master flipped over each of our blankets in turn, searching for the missing cigarettes—not knowing, maybe, that all of them had long since been smoked.

He then turned back to us and studied the line, examining our faces, each in turn. There was a half-empty pack of cigarettes in his hand.

“I thought you said you put the loose ones back,” whispered Yuen Kwai out of the corner of his mouth, as Master turned his attention to the littlest kids.

“I did!” I whispered back. Didn’t I?

Master gazed at the head of the line. “Some of Madame’s cigarettes have been stolen,” he barked. “There is a thief here. Who is it?”

No one spoke.

Master went to Yuen Lung and looked at him full in the face, tapping his cane against one palm.

And then Yuen Lung, in an act of nicotine-fueled courage, asked Master a question. “Master, how do you know they were stolen? Is it possible they just got lost?”

Master shook the half-full pack and thrust them into Yuen Lung’s face. “This is not the way Madame keeps her cigarettes,” he said, his voice icy.

I looked out of the corner of my eye at Master’s hand and flinched. Several sticks jutted out of the pack. But instead of the familiar tan filters of Madame’s fancy American cigarettes, white stubs showed. In my rush to leave the scene of the crime, I’d put the cigarettes back in the pack upside down.

“Now, I will repeat myself. Since you seem so interested in how I take care of my property, perhaps you know what happened to it. Yuen Lung, who stole my cigarettes?”

“I don’t know,” he responded. Master quickly struck him three times with the cane.

He then went to Yuen Tai, who answered the same. He, too, received three blows.

Next in line was Biggest Sister, who looked furious at being included in this disaster. She was usually the sweetest of girls, always protecting the younger kids and taking care of us when we’d suffered particularly hard beatings. Not this time. 

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Master turned to her assuming she, like the others, was not going to talk. But as he lifted his stick, she pulled her hands away. “I know who did it, Master,” she said. “It was Yuen Lo.” Her finger pointed directly at me, halfway down the line. Master’s gaze followed the accusing digit, and his brow creased in fury.

Girls! I thought to myself, clenching my fists. Can’t trust them worth a damn.

Master walked slowly over to me and grabbed me by the shirt. The others watched as he pulled me across the hall and over to the long wooden dinner table.

“Yuen Lo, which hand did you steal with?” he asked.

I thought quickly. If I was going to lose a hand, it might as well be one I don’t use as often. “The…the left, Master.” I responded.

“Put your left hand on the table,” he said.

I complied, trying not to shake. Master raised the cane and hit me hard, five times. Because the back of my hand was against the hard wooden surface of the table, each blow felt like a hammer, bruising my knuckles while simultaneously raising thick red welts on my palm. Somehow, I managed not to scream, or even wince.

When the beating was over, I released my breath and rubbed my throbbing hand. I wouldn’t even be able to make a fist for days. But I’d gotten off easy. Five blows wasn’t even twice what Yuen Lung and Yuen Tai had received.

Master stopped me before I could turn and walk away. “Yuen Lo, which hand did you smoke with?” he said.

I closed my eyes and whispered, “My right.” Swallowing, I put my other hand down on the table and took another five blows on that palm.

Master turned and left the hall. The first day of my princehood was over.

Biggest Sister turned out to be right after all.

Smoking really was bad for your health.