Chapter 4 (1/2)
Four
ONE CHILD PER COUPLE. QUALITY OVER QUANt.i.tY FOR MODERNIZATION.
Xu Ping walked past the huge black letters on the bulletin board by the street while sucking on a popsicle. He was getting a brain freeze.
The sky had gotten darker, no longer a clear blue but a warm, fiery orange that burned the horizons.
People were heading home from work on their bicycles. Greetings were shouted and small talk quickly exchanged when two people saw a familiar face before their vehicles wheeled them apart again.
The blue and white coloured number four tram called “The Advancing Youth” came to a loud stop by the platform. The ticket lady poked her head out of the window and announced the next stop. Soon, pa.s.sengers filled up the tram, and the doors slammed shut before the vehicle chugged along its path.
Xu Ping threw the remaining stick into the trash basket of a restaurant and took a big breath.
The mouth-watering smell of stir-fry was wafting in the air, entering his nostrils like magic.
He could almost hear his stomach rumbling.
Xu Zheng was probably done with playing with sand by now. He had better hurry back or else the popsicle was going to melt.
He ran for the courtyard with the cream popsicle in hand only to b.u.mp right into Mr. Zhang, his dad’s colleague. The man had black, square gla.s.ses and a white Dacron short sleeve s.h.i.+rt with a pen clipped on the breast pocket. He was parking his bicycle in the garage.
“h.e.l.lo, Mr. Zhang.”
“Oh, Xu Ping, you’re out late. Where did you go?”
“I went to buy a popsicle for my brother.” Xu Ping held it up accordingly.
Mr. Zhang didn’t ask for more details and grabbed his black briefcase from the basket on the bicycle. “Come over later for dinner with Xu Zheng. Mrs. Zhang is making tofu tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” Xu Ping replied before racing off.
The sun had dropped below the horizon leaving only a dying glow.
Xu Ping stood by the deserted sandbox and scanned around.
Not a soul in sight.
He could hear the sound of frying pans and television. The seven o’clock news was going to start after the familiar melody.
“Xiaooooo! Zhenggggg!”
Xu Ping’s voice echoed out only to disappear like the ripples in a pond after a pebble falls in.
The popsicle had melted and was dribbling down the stick and onto his hand.
There were thirty neat piles of sand in the sandbox beside which there was Xu Zheng’s red bucket, turned over.
Xu Ping threw the popsicle away and turned the bucket right side up.
Out fell half a piece of essay paper with a few scribbled words on it. Xu Ping read it in the dim twilight.
Xu Ping, come to the Informatics Centre!
That r.e.t.a.r.d! I told him not to run off with strangers!
Xu Ping cursed in his head as he ran to the abandoned building.
G.o.d d.a.m.n! What else is that brat good for other than causing trouble!
Xu Ping was writhing with annoyance but picked up his speed nonetheless.
The rubber soles of his canvas shoes slapped against the ground.
A tiny voice was saying inside:
You were the one who left your brother to read comics.
Xu Ping tripped and fell. His backpack flew a distance away and his palms were sc.r.a.ped b.l.o.o.d.y the sand on the ground.
Ow! That hurt!
Xu Ping pushed himself back up, hissing in pain.
It’s not my fault! I told him, and he said he heard me!
But…
If he’s so stupid that he’ll run off with anyone, he might as well just get kidnapped!
The voice inside slowly died down, not to be heard from again.
The sky got darker and darker. A slice of the moon and a few stars could be seen on the navy blue backdrop.
Mr. Zhang was going to come out looking for them if he didn’t go over soon with Xu Zheng.
With that in mind, Xu Ping sprung to his feet and sprinted for the worn-down red brick building, not even bothering to pick up his backpack.
Xu Ping never really figured out what kind of information the Informatics Centre researched exactly.
The kids had often debated on this issue regarding the mysterious building that didn’t even have an address. In the end, they were swaying between invading Taiwan and defeating the Americans.
It was a time when every boy had an army green beret with a five-pointed star on his head and a red flag in hand. Even his blood seemed to broil with pa.s.sion.