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Alice goes back into her past for the first time, to when she lived in Toronto in '41. She talks about her friend Sam.

Edit Four: Wu

 

 

            There are times where I look back, much deeper into my decaying diaries. I was on another continent, the place that I called home. I liked that home much better. It was Jiang’s fault I ever ended up in Hong Kong. I remember the time when I was a promising young student in Canada, I was fourteen years old, about to enter high school, or grade nine if I remember clearly. I had beautiful black hair, which I still pride myself on, even though I haven’t tended to it for obvious reasons, it was a bob cut at shoulder length though for some reason it didn’t want to grow. I wasn’t really tall, I was kind of short actually, not really the “cute,” kind of short, but still short. I wasn’t skinny, but I wasn’t fat either, I guess a standard build. My mother always told me I had really nice skin that was smooth all over. My face was a different story. My lips were thin, but not flushed out of color, my nose and I still have it today, was a small nose, but not awkward and fit my face perfectly. I have beautiful hazel eyes, well according to Jiang I do, and I assume I had them when I was little. My Skin tone, wasn’t pale like other Chinese girls, it was sort of tanned. My mother complained that it was my fault for always being outside, but I couldn’t resist all the games there were to play with the other children.

 I see the school I used to go to, I can’t be precise with a name, not that it was very long ago, it’s just my memory has been shaken around for awhile. The school wasn’t really that large, but there were a lot of students occupying it. I opened the door to a new world, my first day of high school, every hall was a mystery waiting to be unlocked, waiting to be opened, and wanting to be solved. I didn’t want to be a noticeable student. I liked, being good at things, and getting known for my skills, but in high school I wanted to have something of a low profile. Though I knew it was still impossible. It was about 1941 when I was in Toronto as a student. It wasn’t the best time to be Chinese in Canada. I only knew three other Chinese families in the area, all of them were not complete families either. My grandfather I was told had paid almost everything he had to bring his wife and himself over to Canada. That was along time ago and now no new Chinese immigrants were allowed over. The white girls, the black girls, they had some names for me. Some called me “beaver,” some called me “chink,” well usually the whites called me that. It was my n****r word in a sense, but the way I saw the blacks take it, I knew that n****r had a meaning I’d never understand, though it wasn’t usually like that. The derogatory comments were supposedly just jokes, but either way they hurt, when or why they were said.

            Anyways there I go trailing off; when I entered my first class it was all whites, and a big white man. He wrote his name on the board Mr. Wright. He was a math and science teacher, and he always told us that high school was a whole new world and only the truly dedicated students would thrive in it. Because I was different from most of my class mates I went to the back of the classroom and took a desk. There was one empty one beside mine, but I wasn’t counting on anyone wanting to sit beside the “chink.”

            Mr. Wright began his first lesson, if I remember correctly it was about rounding numbers. Wait, scrap that, my memory was getting bored; I think I’ll skip to lunches. Lunch was boring, in middle school I got to play games and run around with the other kids, and no one cared about how you looked, or what your appearance was. At lunch I had nothing to do, nothing to play, and nothing to look excited for. I was always bored, and so I sat and I admired the beauty of the sun around me. Well I had no option, but to admire the beauty of the world around me, so that’s all I did.

            Going home far from solved the problem of my high school boredom. My mother was always busy, she was always working. When the Nazis came around she somehow managed to get a job at the factories. Giant machines, even bigger than the ones I was slaving on, creating bullet after bullet, each bullet so carefully created as if conforming to the preceding one. I usually spent time just sitting around. Sometimes I would go to the house of another Chinese family. They weren’t much better off than we were at the time, but company was company. I spent time with the Wu’s, those Wu’s were really generous, and whenever I came around there was always food waiting for me. I always thought that I ate too much of their food, and never offered any of my own. Sometimes I would take the food I was given, eat half, and then place it on their window. Somehow I knew Mrs. Wu caught on to my antics, but she knew I really appreciated the food all the time. When I could I would pay my dues to them. If it was helping Mrs. Wu with her son and husband’s laundry, or even simply cleaning the house and keeping it in order. My mother always told me not to get too comfortable doing those things though. She always told me women could do more than just be servants of men. As a teenager, I never really was thinking ahead to when I would get married, and I never saw myself marrying anyways.

            Sometimes the son of the Wu’s, Sam, would talk to me about the future. He was really nice, and sometimes we went on walks together. He was a bit older than I was so I had a respect for the knowledge he carried. I was Canadian, so I knew nothing about China, and my mom never had time to tell me, but Sam would always tell me tales about when he was younger and living in Nanking. Once I remember on a Sunday evening we were at the Don River sitting in the grass looking up at the stars.

            “You ever think someone is watching us?” Sam asked me.

            “Well, I have no idea, what do you know?” I asked, looking at him, I didn’t want to sound stupid.

            “No, seriously tell me what you think about it,” his eyes were looking at me impatiently.

            “Well maybe something is, God, perhaps?” I said, trying to sound profound.

            Sam laughed, “God perhaps, but I don’t understand why God has us here,”

            “What do you mean Sam?”

            “Never mind,”

            “Well,” I sat up, “maybe my relatives are up there, the dead ones.”

            Sam grabbed my hand, “Alice, look at the river,” he paused and we both stared at it, “your ancestors are there all of our ancestors are there, they are in the sky, they are each star that is way up above us, and I believe they use the reflection of the river as a way to look closer at us.”

            Sam was so profound when I talked, he was really imaginative, his hair medium cute hair blew gently in the calm breeze, as his special green eyes were looked so attentively at the water. I looked away before he could catch me staring.

            “One day we will be in this river, looking at our grandchildren and children,” he continued.

            “Who do you plan to marry?” I asked him.

            “I have no idea yet Alice, but she’s beautiful, the most beautiful girl in the world, but she was still far out there.”

            It kind of hurt to hear that, not that I wanted to be the girl Sam married, but I always considered him as a possibility, but in his head I was nowhere there. Sam and I did talk more after that night and we spent many more nights by that Don River. I think the best part of Sam, was even when I was lonely in high school I always could look forward to seeing him. He was smart, but his family couldn’t afford for him to attend the university in Toronto, but he always helped me with homework too. He was the male figure in my life, I didn’t fall in love with him or anything, but to me he was an older brother, or even just a very young father to me.

            Once upon a time Sam even took me outside of Toronto on his bicycle and showed me the rest of Ontario. He took me to a movie, I had never watched one before, but it was so amazing to see it, we watched this movie about travelers that were stranded overnight at a rural train station, and told about a phantom train that carried ghost that pasted by in the dead of the night, there was some laughs from a guy named Arthur Askey, but it kind of spooked me, sometimes even though Sam told me over and over again that things were fine, I would grab his hand for comfort.

            As we grew closer and spent more time together I learned the other side of Sam. Sam like many horrible school boys played pocket billiards, and he also did opium as a little boy in China. Sam was a bully when he attended my high school, but had a dramatic change after a beating by the principal. Even though it would bother many, these things didn’t bother me. Towards me Sam was never rude, disgusting, or impolite; he was a role model and complete gentleman.

            Late in my in the year Sam got really sick and my mother and Sam’s family were really worried, things had gotten worse in Canada on whole. The Nazis had conquered Western Europe and were making inroads in North Africa, and the Canadian dollar hadn’t been rising much at all, and even with all the work, most of the food had had to go to the greater good of feeding the troops. Worst of all when Sam was sick not a lot happened, the river went unvisited, and the bike went unused, weeks later upon hearing Sam’s miraculous recovery, as his condition improved I decided to hold a picnic for him. I would include all the Chinese and Canadian dishes he loved so much, and we would have it by the Don River, by now we hadn’t been there in about two months or so.

            Sometimes during class Mr. Wright would scold me, because I was too busy writing plans for Sam’s picnic with me than focusing on the literature he was trying to teach. I couldn’t have cared less; I was determined to make sure this picnic was top of the line. I still keep that standard when I have picnics with Jiang, he really doesn’t like the outdoors much, but it is cute that he always lies between each allergenic sniffle that he does. I remember everyday when I planned that big picnic I would go to the Wu house to always check on Sam’s condition. I always asked, “when is going to be ready?” and Mrs. Wu would always say, “Soon enough Alice.” This was never really that satisfying of an answer, but it made me rush faster and faster on my planning which was always a bright side.

            I even worked on small things, like walking really woman like, and brushing up on my English vocabulary, Sam didn’t really like speaking in Cantonese. I snuck into Sam’s room once and stole a journal he used to write in. I would read it to find out his thoughts and feelings. Some stuff though I couldn’t read for�"personal, very personal reasons. I tried to not seem like I was prying into his life, I just wanted him to be even happier with me than his journal sometimes mentioned he was.

            Finally the day arrived when Sam was out of his house. I remember he was standing outside the gate of my high school. He was wearing a traditional Chinese pao, and I guess it was hopefully, because I told his parents to make sure he wore one the day he recovered. I remember running to Sam and jumping into his arms, it was one of the best memories of my childhood.

            “So I am ready for my surprise, my mom said you had something special for me,” Sam was looking at me with a big smile.

            I started to blush slightly, and I grabbed his hand and we ran all the way home. I grabbed the food I had prepared for him to eat, and I told him to wear a blindfold and that I would lead him to the Don River.

            “Can I please look now?” he would beg every two minutes or so.

            I would tease him slightly, but eventually we did arrive and I took it off his face.

            It was one of the greatest feelings to see his face light up and know that I was the reason. Sam lost some of his muscle, because he didn’t get to eat a lot when he was ill, but lucky me, I would get the honor of feeding him first.

            After we ate Sam laid down on the blanket I had spent a lot for time sowing just for this occasion.

            “Alice, you are amazing,” he said, using his hand to wipe his mouth, “maybe I should marry you.” He gave a short laugh.

            “I am not what you talked about a long time ago,” I replied, I have no idea why I would reply like that, but I was even more shocked when Sam said.

            “You can’t determine that,” he gave me a smile.

            “Sam let’s go closer to the river,” I guess I just didn’t want to talk about us in that way. He looked slightly disappointed in my obvious attempt to steer the conversation, but he got up picked me up and then stood right by the bank of the river.

            “Whoa!” I let out a short scream I remember as he threw me up on his shoulders. He started to dance randomly. He seemed so happy, but I was slightly scared. I didn’t want to fall into the river, it had been raining at dusk, and the river was moving faster than usual. I told him to stop�"no I yelled, “STOP!” at the top of my lungs, and he put me down and apologized. Sam then grabbed my hands while saying, “Look I will dance in the river and you will dance on land, and we will dance the day away until our relatives see us at night.”

            As long as I wasn’t wildly swinging in the air it sounded good to me. Sam was a horrible dancer, he had one move, twisting his hips and moving his arms and mine, in and out. Sam wasn’t the most adept dancer, but he kept hopping in the river. He slipped slightly sometimes, but he kept on going. Not too long in, Sam slipped and took me down with him. I flew into the river, I couldn’t swim and I instantly screamed. My leg hit a rock and I couldn’t move it with the pain. Sam hit a sharp rock and was bleeding heavily, from his abdomen. Sam quickly swam over to me and grabbed me. We were being taken by the current however and the bank wasn’t easy to just roll onto anymore. Sam held on to me tightly though, but I could see so much blood I didn’t know how it was possible he was. Then he dragged his foot into the bank and started slowing down. He looked at me, with eyes in dire need, and said, “I’m so sorry.” With all the strength he had left he picked me up above his shoulders and threw me onto solid land. I hit the mud with a thud, and my leg was badly bruised, and my arm took some damaged from the collision of hitting the ground from such a powerful throw. I was barely conscious, I think it was because of the shock and the panic, and my lungs had run out of air from screaming, but I looked up for Sam, but he was gone, gone in the river, and taken with the current. All I had left of Sam was his blood that stained my shirt, his bloody handprint, the last memory of Sam, and what I thought was the last memory I’d have of happiness.

            I don’t well remember how I eventually ended up home. Mrs. Wu had come to see why we hadn’t come home yet, and found me passed out by the river, or so I’m told. I know I did ask if they had seen Sam, but no one did. I cried for months, my grades suffered, and life in Toronto had gotten even worse. I felt responsible for his death, it was my stupid picnic that killed him, but I knew that was impossible, but I had to blame myself somehow, I took this as the easy way.

            Many things changed as well, I never went to the Wu’s residence ever again, I felt too scared to look at them, they were destroyed mentally by the loss of their son, I felt so guilty, that I took a long route home just to avoid them, and I never ever went near the Don River. I hate that river now forever and always, and the name Don too, I can’t stand it. Most of all however, the biggest change was I was alone, alone like I was on a boat, on the wide Dead Sea.

            It should’ve been me who said sorry, not Sam. Even Jiang couldn’t convince me of anything different.

 

 

Edit Five: Alone

 

 

            I hated my life so much, but I wasn’t suicidal or anything, I just thought that it wasn’t fair that Sam had to die, but life wouldn’t give me too much time to worry about it. I had to do well in school, and my grades were suffering severely, because of what happened. I had done poorly on so many examinations Mr. Wright had demanded I bring my mother in to chat with him.

            “I’m worried about young Alice here,” I remember that meeting so well; my mother had a look of disappointment on her face as Mr. Wright kept speaking.

            “Alice was doing fine in the class at the beginning of the semester, but she seems to be struggling, and getting worse and worse as time progresses,” he said sternly.

            My mother nodded.

            “I’m sorry, Alice here is not doing very well no longer,” he started speaking slowly and exaggerating each word, using bad grammar and intonation, I think he thought my mother did not speak English well.

            “I understood the first time Mr. Wright and I will personally speak to Alice, and tomorrow she will be back to normal,” my mother said in a suave, in your face sort of manner.

            Mr. Wright fixed his speech after and replied, “Thank-you, and might I say I really like your Chinese chicken,” that comment was pretty irrelevant. My mom had sad back to normal I had no idea what she was going to do, and what that even meant. She had known about Sam and was told by Mrs. Wu, but we never really did speak about it, she was busy making parts and bullets for the troops, too busy for me. Maybe she did ask me about Sam, maybe she didn’t, but I knew I was probably in my own world when she did. My mother took me by the hand, and we left the school and headed back for home. My thoughts were drifting randomly in the wind; I was trying to fit together what my mom had in store for me, she didn’t look angry, she didn’t really have any expression on her face. Usually she looked over-worked, and demands for more supplies for the troops had my mother working really hard. She was underpaid too, like any woman at the time so that must have been stressful. When we arrived home she went to the kitchen and picked up two eggs that were in a bowl. She took out a pan and cut some vegetables into a pan and then heated it. She asked me to go to my room and wait for her to finish making my meal. I wasn’t ever scared of my mom and I really did respect her, as far as respect could go when you didn’t spend much time with someone, I mean she did provide for me with all she could. I still can’t repay her for all she had ever done.

            I sat in my room quiet and the aroma of the omelet was filling the air in the house and wavering into my room. I realized that I never really spent much time in my room. I took the time to lay and down and just look around it. My room was bare, it was just four undecorated walls, and there was a table and a photo of my mom with dad holding her. They looked so happy then, I should’ve asked more about dad, but I guess I never did, because of Sam. I regretted that deeply.

            My bed was really elegant though. I had two bed sheets, and a warm green quilt, for memories sake. I had very decorated pillows, they had frills all over. I was never cold in the winter I remember, and I was always cool in warmer months. It was getting darker earlier now, as a result of the change in season, Mr. Wright said the sun was tired of seeing the war in Europe for so long, so it would go to the south where peace was relatively alive. I lit a candle and now the room was warmly lit, and still fading light pierced the window of my room above the bed.

            I took a look out the window now looking at the nostalgic orange glow of the sunset, on the horizon. I would have been entranced, but not too long before I could get lost in the sight my mother came in.

            “Dinner,” she said, and I sat on the edge of the bed. She sat right beside me and put her arm around me.

            “So what was he like?” she asked me.

            “Sam?”

            “Yes Sam what was he like?” she asked, her voice was really calm, far from the woman who spoke at the school just a bit earlier.

            I didn’t know what to say to her, “Sam is”�"and I couldn’t finish. I just began to cry.

            “I get it, he was always there for you, wasn’t he?”

            “Yes,” tears and sniffles choked up my words. I didn’t know what I was feeling, but I wanted to say something to my mom something for her to understand how I really felt.

            “Well I’ll always be here for you Alice, I always have been.”

            She didn’t mean that, my God she hadn’t been around for any moment when I was with Sam, she was always busy, working hard to take care of me, I was thankful for it, but I realized then and there that she was never there to parent me at all. She was never here with me. I was a princess in a tower, and she was the prince that claimed he always loved me, but always had to go to war. I didn’t want to hear it anymore.

            “Alice?”

            “Mom, when have you ever been there,” I remember that moment I said that, the adrenaline ran up and down my body as I swallowed my fear and respects for my mother.

            I continued, “Mom you were never here, that’s why Sam meant so much, I was always alone, always alone, and I hate being alone, I hate the quiet, and you love work, you need work, you need to feed us, so no matter what I have no mom, or I have no food, and I guess I need food and with Sam I’ve been living fine with no mom.”

            “Alice, you can’t�"“

            “What? I can’t mean that, I’m sorry mom, but I want you home, I want a mother to talk to, I’d like to know about China from my parent, not Sam, not other people. I don’t even know why I cry mom. I miss Sam and I know it was my fault he died, I feel so guilty and alone without him.”

            “You’re never alone I’ve never been here you are right, I was too busy, I don’t know how I will fix it, but every moment I have to myself I’ll give to you,” said my mom, I looked uneasy still, and she had seemed to ignore my comment about Sam.

 “In China we used to say that in the sky�"“

            “Our relatives, our dead loved ones, are always watching us right?” I cut her off.

            “Well yes, so did you ever try talking to Sam, maybe he is too far to talk, but he can never be too far to listen.”

            “Mom that is impossible, I will look crazy talking all by myself.”

            “Then why don’t I go with you?” She looked at me smiling.

            No I thought, I can’t I couldn’t have my mother there, but maybe it was good. I had nothing I could say my mother and I had ever shared. Did I really want to be with my mother, wait, switch that thought, did I really want to attempt to be with Sam, while I was with my mother. I never did apologize to him and I never went back near that river.

            “You’re hesitant, that’s ok.” My mom said, I’ll be listening to the radio, if you want to go tomorrow let me know.

            As she got up, the tears were still going across my cheeks, I wiped them off, and I grabbed her arm.

            “Can we go right now?” I asked hesitantly.

            She smiled then she moved my hair back and kissed my forehead, “of course.”

            As we walked towards the river, my thoughts were stirring uneasy. I was worried about seeing it, what my first response would be how I would look at the river, the same spot where Sam and I had our last dance. The moon was out in full, I could see the moonlights reflection dancing on the windows of the houses we passed by. The wind was a bit chilly, and I drew close to my mother as we walked to the river. Closer and closer we approached the river. I believe the close we got the tighter my grip on her hand was. She put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Its okay.” It didn’t make me feel better, but I knew she was trying to relieve my tension.

            When we eventually arrived at the river the tears started flowing again. I was so taken away by the sight of the river and I couldn’t stand it to lift my head. My mother touched my face, so gracefully and lifted it to the sky.

            “Alice, do you see him?” asked my mom. I never knew her as anyone who had such a vivid imagination. I didn’t know she had a dreamer side. Wait, that didn’t really sound right, maybe I should say something more adult. I didn’t know she had such a philosophical way of thinking. Wait, that just makes me sound smart, but at the same time hopelessly lost. I won’t trail off again. I looked up to the stars and gazed in awe. The moonlit night and the stars illuminated the sky in a way that only fairytales could describe. Each star shone so brightly as if they were all trying to grab the attention of any on looker in their presence.

            “Look how bright that star is,” my mom said, she knelt down to my level and pointed upwards.

            “It’s Sam isn’t it?”

            “I really think it is, why don’t you just say something to him.”

            “Do I just say sorry?”

            “Anything you’d like dear.”

            “Sam, I’m really sorry,” tears rolled down my cheek now, falling in a rhythmical beat into the river where it all ended.

            “You meant so much to me and you will always be that older brother I love so much.”

            The stars reflection was bright in the river, my eyes must’ve been playing tricks on me, and I felt like I witnessed the star getting brighter. I couldn’t contain my emotions anymore, I just started crying hysterically and my mother held me closely, I never felt so much comfort from her ever before.

            Then I felt a warmth come across my back, I felt as if Sam’s soul had come down to give me a hug, it was the hardest time for me, I thank God every time I look back that my mom did come with me.

            That night was the night my mother had finally connected with me, or so I felt. I spent about ten minutes or so, just crying in her arms. After I stopped and I could put myself relatively together, I did one more thing. I grabbed my mom’s hands and I danced. I danced just like Sam had danced with me in the river before the worst happened. My mother and I danced the night away I remember .I really hope Sam was watching in spirit and he was enjoying the spectacle I got really tired after, and she carried me home. I don’t remember the trip back, because I know I fell asleep on her shoulders, I hadn’t fallen asleep on my mother since I was a baby. Tonight my soul warmed up and the little box that it was captive in lit up with pleasure. My mother and I finally mixed spirits and would forever be intertwined.

            The last thing I remember was her setting me into the bed.

            “You’ll never be alone,” she then kissed my forehead and she left the room.

Author's Note

Please comment! Thank-you.