The Gaze of Caprice (The Caprice Trilogy Book 1) (17 page)

Xiaoyu walked with his head angled downward, not worrying if another car would come along—it wasn’t likely.  Xiaoyu had a sudden thought and it echoed like a call.  He didn’t really care if a car came down the road and hit him.  He had exhausted himself.  There wasn’t enough left in him to care.  So much of him was used up, chasing the taxi—crying for his sister.  But still he was being called.  With his sister gone, he was on his own.  The call was not to the boy whose mother had died, whose sister had abandoned him.  The call was to the creature, requiring him to survive—the same for all wounded things left alive.  But the boy never thought how his life would be without his sister, even though he was subconsciously prepared for it.  As he walked along the dirt road, he thought.  He forced himself not to fantasize about Xiaofeng coming back.  He understood gone.  When he was old enough to understand that his mother was dead, he stopped imagining the day he would meet her.  He accepted that he never would.  He moved slowly over to the edge of the dirt road, realizing it wasn’t safe to walk in the middle of the road.  He would have to make these decisions for himself; there was no one around to look after him.  There was only him.  As he peered back through the green gate of the yard, he saw a large silhouette standing in the doorway.  It was Baba.  There was a different reaction within Xiaoyu.  He no longer sought protection from Baba.  There was no one to do the protecting.  He told himself he could no longer be afraid of Baba—a man who would find any excuse to hit him.  There was no point in being afraid.  It was better to be aware.  He walked toward the light of the house and the silhouetted figure.  He didn’t look up at the silhouette but he stopped within earshot.

“
You’re bigger than me… you’re stronger than me, but you have to fall asleep sometime
,” said Xiaoyu.  The surprised silhouette gave way and Xiaoyu walked straight into the house without looking at anything or anyone.  Xiaoyu walked into the bedroom, which he no longer shared.  He realized it was his bedroom now.  But the boy disliked having his own space.  He always considered having his own space as having his mind to work with.  He was uncomfortable staying in the room by himself; it felt more like a prison than living space.  He sat down on the bed—his sister’s bed—and thought about what had happened.  Xiaoyu knew there were many opportunities in Beijing, especially opportunities for study.  He figured that was what his sister had done, left to pursue an opportunity.   He marveled at his sister’s ingenuity, because he had never considered schooling as a way out.  For him, school was a place where he taught lessons, not learned them.  But Xiaoyu figured he would follow the same path as his sister.  He would stop thinking like a child and looking to run away.  He would, like his sister, take the long way out.  He decided to refocus on school and when his time came he would graduate out of the house as well, unless another exit presented itself sooner.

Two weeks after his sister left, Xiaoyu began displaying a new intensity.  His teachers began to notice, even other students.  No one bothered him.  The local community was small enough to notice any major changes.  The absence of a person would not go unnoticed, especially someone connected to the infamous, Xiaoyu.  Everyone knew Xiaofeng had gone, even the children who had bullied Xiaoyu since kindergarten, couldn’t help but have sympathy for him.  He sat by himself on the dirt floor playground of his primary school.  As far as Xiaoyu could tell, there was no recess to be had.  He had to work with a steadied focus.  While the other children played during recess, Xiaoyu brought his backpack to the playground along with his classroom exercises.  While the other children played at soccer, Xiaoyu played at long division.  He knew he couldn’t make only enemies; he had to make allies as well.  For a long time he thought his sister, as ally, would do.  But her departure left an obvious hole.  For the time being, Xiaoyu saw his ally as his subjects and his learning.  They were the tools that he would use to dig his escape tunnel.  Where ever the tunnel would lead, would be better than where he was.

A letter arrived for Xiaoyu a month after his sister left.  It was from Xiaofeng.  She said she was staying at the Beijing New City Teacher’s College and had been assigned modules with a British student and a Canadian one.  She said it was difficult to keep up with their English because she never had so much exposure to people speaking English, but she reminded him that all things were difficult in the beginning.  One thing the letter didn’t contain was an apology. Xiaoyu had never expected one.  But the letter did give him something he had been wanting for a long time, an address.  The day the letter arrived Xiaoyu had already completed most of his assignments during recess.  This gave him ample time to write a response.  His reply letter included everything that would have made his sister proud of him, that he had extremely high marks in all of his classes and was getting along with his teachers and not fighting with other students.  He excluded the things that would make her regret her decision to leave, the fact that he rarely spoke to Baba or Mama.  He did take a particular liking to Li Xing—their uncle.  Xiaoyu liked Li Xing more than anyone else he had met, except for his sister.  He wrote that he respected Li Xing for the similarities they shared.  Both were little brothers.  Both had strict older sisters.  Both had a sizeable age difference between them and their sisters.  Both had contempt for authority or, at least, a need to poke fun at it and holes in it.  Both did not get along with Baba.  Both felt Baba’s need to cite the principles he believed in delegitimized his authority.  He couldn’t cope with an individual who had different principals.  They both saw more ignorance in him than wisdom.  Both were creatures that sought a better life far from home.  Only the road for Li Xing had brought him back for reasons he wouldn’t talk about.  But Li Xing told Xiaoyu stories about Qiu.  Xiaoyu never thought he would care to listen to stories about a dead woman he’d never met, even if it was his mother.  But Li Xing had a way of making the stories larger than life, like Qiu was the most interesting person he had never met.  And Xiaoyu met her every day, after school.  Since Xiaofeng left, Li Xing was given the duty of walking Xiaoyu to and from school.  In the mornings, Li Xing was too tired to talk, but he came to life during the evenings.  He was always prepared to tell Xiaoyu a story about something he did to annoy his sister.  By the time Qiu was old enough to be interested in boys; Li Xing’s pranks took on a whole new meaning.  At the time, Qiu was sixteen years-old and Li Xing was only seven.  Li Xing had no idea of the trouble he had caused, that’s what made it so funny to Xiaoyu, who was only eight.

Li Xing could make Xiaoyu relax, something only his sister could do.  But Li Xing could do something that Xiaofeng couldn’t do; he could make Xiaoyu laugh.  Li Xing could make fun of Baba in such a serious and sarcastic way, Xiaoyu could laugh till his stomach hurt.  Li Xing’s jokes about Baba were all the more funny, when they were all the more true.  Baba’s presence always interrupted Li Xing’s comedy routine, as it did one Saturday when students had been required to go to school.  It was late September, Li Xing and Xiaoyu were coming back down the dirt road, which lead to the green gate guarding the house.  Li Xing had a key to the walk-through door on the gate, which saved him the trouble of having to open the whole gate wide enough for a car to fit through.  As Li Xing passed through the gate, he found Baba sitting on a stool outside in the yard.  Baba looked up at Li Xing expressionless.  Li Xing had a straight face.

“
Tell the boy to go to his room
,” said Baba.

Xiaoyu could feel the thick scab in the air.  Something between the two men was off; Xiaoyu didn’t wait to be told again.  He secured his book bag on his shoulder and walked steadily inside to his bedroom, leaving the door cracked.  No one noticed.  Xiaoyu could hear Li Xing and Baba as they came inside the house.  Li Xing, a usual wit, had nothing to say.  Xiaoyu stood by the cracked door and eavesdropped on the two men.

“
You care to explain this
,” said Baba.  Xiaoyu couldn’t see what the two men were looking at.

“
Why would I?  It was in my bag.  Care to explain why you’re looking in my bag
?” said Li Xing.

“
I used to work with this guy, another manager at the factory.  He called today asking if I still had any of my old rations stamps, because there’s people buying them.  Museums and colleges are looking to have them.  So I figured I might have left them in that room, somewhere.  I go to look under the bed and there’s your duffel.  I try to move it and see how heavy it is.  Then I think you’ve been here three months almost, why is your bag still so full.  So I look inside and the bag is full of it
,” said Baba.

“
Where’s Mama
?” asked Li Xing.

“
She’s out buying food
,” said Baba.

“
Did you tell her about this
?” asked Li Xing.

“
I figure first you better tell me about this and why you brought a bag full of money into my house
,” said Baba.

“
You weren’t supposed to find it
,” said Li Xing.

“
And we’re passed that now
,” said Baba,
“
Don’t think that at my age I’ve forgotten everything.  Even if I have, I’d still have more sense than you boy
.”

“
Still you don’t know everything
,” said Li Xing.

“
That’s what you need to tell me
,” said Baba, “
Is it stolen
?”

“
No
,” said Li Xing,
“
I didn’t rob a bank if that’s what you’re thinking
.”

“
Who did you rob then?  Don’t tell me the money is yours
,” said Baba.

“
It’s just business
,” said Li Xing.

“
What kind of business?  You say you’re a manager, what kind of manager walks around with a bag full of company money?  You’re talking to a manager
,” said Baba.

“
A manager of a brick factory
,” said Li Xing.

“
That doesn’t carry around bags of money, what businessman does that
?” said Baba, “
A crooked one
.”

“
The laws are different in Hong Kong
,” said Li Xing.

“
How different?  Different enough that you can carry a bag full of Hong Kong money and not worry about anything?  It’s paradise
?” said Baba.

“
Well you’ve never been there, so what difference would it make
?” said Li Xing.

“
It would make a difference to a man who won’t tolerate what you’ve gotten into.  You’ve got guilt written on you.  And you won’t say where you got the money.  I can guess and we don’t do that kind of business in this family.  So you take this money here and put it with the rest of the money in there and you take it out of this house—along with yourself.  Tonight you can stay, that’ll give you time to say goodbye to your mother.  In the morning, you and your things will be gone
,” said Baba.

“
You gonna tell her why you’re kicking me out
?” asked Li Xing

“
You’re not being kicked out.  You’ve proven you shouldn’t be allowed to stay
,” said Baba,
“You should be man enough to tell your mother that, if not, all the more reason why you can’t stay
.”

“
Ok, I’ll tell her
,” said Li Xing.

“
No you won’t, you’re not the man
,” said Baba.

Li Xing went back to his room taking the wad of money, which Baba left on the table.  He locked the wooden door to his room.  Locking his door was symbolic; everyone in the house knew a hard kick could open any of the old doors in the house, despite being locked.  The locks were old and didn’t work. Li Xing saw the metaphor to Baba, as he lied on the bed looking at the door.  He never felt comfortable under Baba’s roof, even as a kid.  The house wasn’t built by Baba, but the walls were.  Li Xing took the blame for leaving himself nowhere to go but his father’s house.  It wasn’t an escape; it was a prison. As a grown man, the house seemed smaller and the walls seemed closer.  Li Xing realized it was the longest time he had spent in the house, since he left.  Doing time under Baba’s roof was the penalty for not thinking far enough ahead.  He accepted everything on his last night at the house, even the consequences of leaving.  He really didn’t have anywhere else to go, only back to Hong Kong.  He had told himself he would use the time in Kuandian to think about what he should do and where he should go.  Broaching the topic had the same repercussions always, he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go—for three months.   Laziness or lack of imagination had left him where he had started three months earlier and it bothered him.  It bothered him more that both he and Baba knew he wouldn’t say goodbye to Mama.  He didn’t have it in him to face her—not even wearing sunglasses.  So he left when there was no sun, in the middle of the night.

Li Xing left the key on top of the cabinet with the white porcelain.  He figured Baba would find it eventually, but not too quickly.  He locked the front door from the inside and closed the door gingerly, to cover his exit.  He walked through the yard hastily; he didn’t want anyone noticing his retreat.  He threw his shoulder bag over the brick wall, surrounding the main yard, and scaled the wall with the duffel and its value.  Li Xing landed harder than expected in the grass, on the outside of the brick wall.  He did a slight panorama of the house, to make sure he was alone or to take one last look.  Li Xing himself wasn’t really sure.  Realizing that no one noticed his exit, he lit a celebratory cigarette.  The light from the fire gave him a clear view of his gold watch.  It was 3:18 in the morning; he was actually running late.  His plan was to be out of the house by three o’clock, on the dot.  The first bus leaving the train station was at 6:30am.  He calculated it would take him an hour and fifteen minutes to walk to the train station.  In reality, it took him over two hours.  He didn’t walk at the speed of someone walking through a graveyard.  He walked with the speed of someone walking to his own grave.  His steps were unsure, like a baby or a coward.  Truthfully, he was both.  But he was more coward than baby, because he liked the night when no one was paying attention.  He walked comfortably through the nighttime darkness—unseen.