Year of the Golden Dragon (16 page)

She heard Master Chen’s voice:

I fear they are not only images of our grisly past. They may be portents of an even more terrible future. Too many will die if the promise is not kept, just as they did so very long ago.

Hong Mei saw Ryan and Alex now. They looked terrified, but were no longer running. She watched the brothers, pressed in amongst a crowd of people, some seated and others standing, their bodies swaying in a gentle, rocking motion. Through metal-framed windows she caught glimpses of dark shadows flashing by. Then, through the glass, she could see the lights of a subway platform. The rhythm and soft jiggling slowed as the vehicle came to a halt. Some people near Ryan and Alex moved out of focus, while others moved in. But now there was no other sign of Black Dragon.

Hong Mei watched the boys sit down, wedging themselves between other passengers on a long metal seat. As her vision began to fade she could just make out that Alex was holding something on his lap – the wooden case for the jade. Black Dragon must have thought the jade was in the box! What would Black Dragon do if he found out the boys didn’t have his precious treasure?

The jade. Did Ryan and Alex think she had
stolen
their pendants?

Hong Mei looked at her watch. More than an hour had passed since she had entered the woods.

She had to find Ryan and Alex and explain everything. The first thing was to get out of this forest and find a road into the town she had seen. Roads had taxis and buses. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to find one going straight to an airport. Even though Master Chen had told her not to trust Madam Ching, she’d have to at least phone her. No telling how furious she’d be.

Hoping for a bit of guidance, Hong Mei held tight to the jade pieces in her hands. She squeezed her eyes closed and started thinking about Mama. And Baba.

Standing very still, Hong Mei thought of her parents. Baba had done his best to prepare her for this journey, and Mama had done what any mother would – she had tried to keep her daughter safe, even though it had cost her a husband.

Hong Mei felt her heart thumping inside her chest. She imagined each beat escaping from her body and rising up into the air. Maybe they’d land on wispy clouds and get carried to Mama and Baba. Then, like beads of fine mist, they’d slowly seep into her parents’ bodies, finding their way into their hearts.

Hong Mei opened her eyes and looked around. She saw darkness at one end of the trail, and the unmistakable colour of blue sky at the other. She ran toward the light and whispered, “I can still hear you, ancient Grandfather. I will keep your promise.”

Chapter 14

The Beijing Express

Ryan sat stiffly on the edge
of the metal subway seat. The train had just left the tenth station since they’d rushed to get on it in Kowloon. Ryan knew. He’d been counting the stops, wondering when they should get off. Worried that he and Alex would run into that disgusting man with the sunglasses, he’d convinced himself that they were safer on board this subway car.

“Where do you think we should get off?” Alex asked him.

“I don’t know.”

After a few more seconds, Alex asked, “Are you still mad at me?”

Ryan ignored him.

“I just asked what happened to your face,” Alex said. “People don’t just start bleeding for no reason.”

Ryan tried to concentrate on the station names outside the windows as they approached each platform. He was hoping that one of them would sound familiar, or safe in some way. So far, he’d had no luck. “Can you just help me find a good place to get off?” he grumbled at Alex.

“A good place? How are we supposed to know a good place from a bad place?” Alex asked. After a moment, he said, “Maybe we should get off pretty soon, don’t you think?”

“Uh huh.” Ryan said.

“Fine,” Alex sighed heavily, “whenever you’re ready boss.”

The train picked up speed and swayed gently back and forth as it whizzed underground. Once in awhile, Ryan could feel the carriage go around a curve, making a screeching sound as it scraped against the rails. The sound made him cringe. It reminded him of someone dragging their fingernails down a chalkboard. But that wasn’t as bad as the thought of that horrible man. He couldn’t forget the image of him howling when the subway left without him. And his smile, filled with cracked yellow teeth. They looked like fangs.

Alex shivered. Who was he? What did he want? Maybe he had escaped from a mental hospital.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Alex tracing his finger over the carved figures on the Chinese box. He watched him open the lid and run his finger along the indentation in the shiny yellow silk lining inside.

“How does Papa’s poem start again?” Alex asked, not looking up.

To take his mind off his thoughts, Ryan started reciting the poem with Alex. The two of them sat side by side, saying the words together:

Long before the universe was born,

Chaos rose from a celestial storm.

Alone for eons in an endless night,

The god awoke and created light.

Every time he heard or said this poem, Ryan thought of Papa. What would he have said about them losing their jade?

The poem was long and as they neared the end of it, Ryan began to feel better somehow.

Just as the words finished leaving their mouths, the train lurched hard: One, two, three times.

“Whoa!” Alex cried, gripping the wooden box and planting his sneakers on the floor. He grabbed the metal pole next to his seat to save himself from being thrown down, while Ryan, with nothing to hold, fell off the slippery seat and into the aisle.

“What was that?” Alex asked, staring down at Ryan.

He must be really afraid, Ryan thought. He’s not even laughing at me for wiping out.

“I don’t know,” Ryan said, trying to keep his voice even. “Maybe we hit something on the tracks.” He looked through the windows and saw that they were entering a station. “C’mon. I guess this is as good a place as any to get off.”

Ryan stood up quickly and brushed himself off. Luckily the car was nearly empty. That fall had been pretty embarrassing.

The train stopped and the doors slid open. This time, the few passengers who were on board got off – but nobody got on.

They stepped out onto the platform and Ryan looked up at the two large Chinese characters painted in black on the wall. They were simplified characters, the kind he’d been taught in his Mandarin lessons. And he could read them.

It couldn’t say what he thought it did, could it?

“What?” Alex said as he followed Ryan’s gaze. “What’s it say?”

Ryan swallowed. These two words were easy. One was “North” and the other “Capital.” He’d learned them years ago. “That’s just it,” he said quietly. “What I
think
it says doesn’t make any sense.” He was getting a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you
think
it says?”

“It says –” Ryan was interrupted by a man rushing toward them, blowing hard on the whistle stuck in his mouth. He was dressed in an olive green woollen coat, heavy black boots and flat officer’s cap with a single red star above its brim. With one white-gloved hand, he waved Ryan and Alex away from the train. The other hand gripped a white baton that he pointed toward the escalator, directing the boys to join the passengers going up. Still blowing hard on the whistle, the man’s face was turning purplish-red.

He pulled the whistle out and shouted,
“Zou-ba!”

“Excuse me, but we don’t –” Ryan started to say.

The man came within centimetres of them and said,
“Wo-ting-bu-dong.
This last stop!”

“Sheesh!” Alex said under his breath as they walked toward the escalator. “Keep your shorts on.”

When the boys were on the escalator, Ryan turned back and saw the uniformed man staring at them.

“Talk about friendly and helpful,” Alex said. “What did the sign say?”

“I think it said Beijing.”

“Beijing, like the city Beijing? I don’t think so,” Alex said.

“Yeah,” Ryan said as he thought of his Mandarin lessons. There was a map of China on the wall in his classroom. He’d looked at it at least a hundred times. Beijing was up near Mongolia. Close to Russia. It was thousands of kilometres from Hong Kong.

Moments later, as the escalator reached the top, the air suddenly got cold. Ryan shivered, but it wasn’t just from the cold. Something – everything – felt different. They took a few tentative steps across the concrete floor.

There were hundreds of people getting on and off dozens of trains. Some rushed to get on board those which were about to depart, while others stood anxiously, waiting for friends and relatives to arrive. Many people carried babies and children, and even more struggled along the platforms with overstuffed suitcases and giant red-blue-and-white striped plastic bags.

He glanced up at the high steel rafters of the station’s ceiling. They were surrounded by white puffs of steam and heavy black clouds of coal and diesel. This was a
real
train station, not a subway stop.

“Look,” Alex said. “It’s just a train station. We’ve been in subways before that ended up at a train station. Remember in London?”

Ryan put a hand on Alex’s sleeve to stop him. “Shh! I know, but just listen for a second.”

He watched as his brother cocked his head, paying closer attention to the commotion around them. Ryan heard the steady drone of arrival and departure announcements over the loudspeakers. Conductors hollered for their passengers to board, and people chatted excitedly to one another. He saw realization seep into Alex’s face.

They were surrounded by sounds and words they knew. There were whole sentences and snippets of conversations swirling around them that they could understand. Everyone was speaking Mandarin.

“Where are we?” Alex asked. The colour had all but drained from his face.

Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, “but it’s not Hong Kong and it’s not Kowloon.”

The boys huddled next to each other, trying to recognize a printed word or two from some of the signs. They peered at the heavy black strokes of Chinese writing. Ryan saw many of the same signs he’d seen downstairs on the platform. He gripped the collar of his coat and pulled it tight around his neck. “It says Beijing,” he said.

“There’s no way it can be the capital-of-China Beijing,” Alex said shaking his head. “We were only on that train for half an hour.”

“Pardon me,” Ryan heard from behind him.

The sound of English startled them. He and Alex turned to see a young, well-dressed man. His jet black hair was cut short and spiky. He wore a dark wool coat that reached to his knees and at his neck was a cream-coloured silk scarf. His black trousers were precisely the right length, sitting on top of his shiny boots.

“Are you Ryan and Alexander Wong?” the man asked, showing off small white teeth.

Ryan and Alex backed away from him.

The man said, “Oh, how silly of me! I do apologize for not introducing myself,” he said in clipped English. “I’m Ching Long.” He thrust out a gloved hand for Ryan to shake.

Ryan looked at the man’s hand but did not take it.

Ching Long offered his hand to Alex. He refused it as well.

“I am dreadfully sorry,” he said, half smiling, half frowning. “Are you not Ryan and Alexander Wong?”

Ryan pulled Alex closer to him. He didn’t want another Lily or Chen-whatever-her-name-was experience. Ignoring the man in front of them, Ryan held tightly to Alex while he looked around. There had to be a security guard or someone like that walking around.

He saw Ching Long frown as he too started eyeing the crowd around them. “Are you looking for Chen Hong Mei?”

Ryan turned to the man. He said slowly, “Chen Hong Mei? Do you mean Lily?”

The young man’s face brightened again. “Yes. That is her English name. I must have forgotten that she would use that with you – but where is she?” he asked.

“We don’t know, but we’d sure like to –” Alex started to say when Ryan interrupted him.

“Do you know how we can find her?” Ryan asked.