104 ~

Pag. 104

TAKEN FOR A RIDE

Of course, we didn’t always have to steal leftovers to fill our stomachs. Sometimes our performances ended early, giving us the chance to wander through the park, spending our bus money on the wide array of goodies available. Of course, this meant that we would have to walk six miles back to the academy—but for the treat of a sweet bean bun or sugar rice cake, it was worth it.

One day, one of our more friendly instructors, a hearty middle-aged man who taught us martial arts, told us a secret: his son worked as a driver at the bus company. If we ever found ourselves in need of a ride, we could say that our father was “Tsui Luk, employee number 1033,” and the ticket vendor would let us on the bus for free as a family member.

We looked at one another in glee. All the snacks we wanted, and we’d never have to walk again!

The following afternoon we gorged, confident that we would ride home in luxury, courtesy of the bus company.

“You sure this is going to work, Biggest Brother?” I asked, a little dubious.

“Of course, dumbass,” he said. “Teacher wouldn’t screw us over. You just make sure you remember what to say.” And when the bus arrived, Yuen Lung stepped smartly into the stairwell, nodded his close-cropped head at the ticket taker, and told him that his father was Tsui Luk, employee number 1033.

The vendor looked up and down at Biggest Brother, appraising him. Finally he nodded back and sent him into the interior of the bus.

It worked. Our hearts leapt in our chests. Free fares, anywhere we wanted, anytime we chose!

Then it was Yuen Tai’s turn. “My father is Tsui Luk, employee number 103.” He, too, was allowed in.

But the ticket taker was beginning to get suspicious. By the time Yuen Biao, last in line, stammered his “father’s” name and number and boarded, it was clear that something was wrong. No driver as young as Tsui Luk could have so many kids, all boy, and all with their heads shaved clean!

Cursing his own gullibility, the ticket taker stomped toward the back

Pag. 105

193

Pag. 193

CHAN TO CHAN

The backbreaking work at the construction site took up my days, and kept me from thinking too much about my failures while the sun was up. Nighttimes, though, were still long and painful. I thought of what I’d left behind in Hong Kong, and I thought of Oh Chang and her kindness. I thought about the promise that my life had once held. Even after my hours of hard labor, it was difficult to sleep. Rather than lie awake, turning in bed, I took a second job, working as a kitchen assistant in a local Chinese restaurant. I didn’t know how to cook, despite my dad’s talent, but I knew how to chop vegetables, and restaurants always needed a strong back around. My life turned into a never-ending whirl of work, exhausted sleep, and more work. I stopped thinking about my troubles. I stopped thinking at all.

My father was happy that I was at least staying out of trouble. My mother, on the other hand, knew that something was wrong.

After I’d spent several months at this breakneck schedule, Mom confronted me, late at night, as I walked in from my second job.

“Jackie,” —even Mom had taken to calling me by my adopted name now—“it is nice to have you here with us.  We’re happy, but I think you aren’t happy.”

I sat down in a chair and lay my head back on the headrest. “I’m happy,” I said, without much conviction.

She came over and put her hand on my shoulder. “Jackie, I am your mother. I know you better than you know yourself, and even if your father is willing to look the other way when you lie to him, I cannot. I know this is not what you should be doing with your life.”

“What can I do?” I shouted, sudden feelings of bitterness welling up in my heart. “I spent my entire life learning a useless profession. I’ve got nothing left.”

My mother hugged me and reassured me that I had much more than I thought. I had the love and faith of my parents, I had my health, and I had my youth. “Remember, Jackie, you came to us the Year of the Horse,” she said. “You were born to be a great man, and you will go on to do great thing. But you can’t do them here. This is not where you belong.