Chapter 9 (1/2)

Nine

I do not ask to walk smooth paths

Nor bear an easy load.

I pray for strength and fort.i.tude

To climb the rock-strewn road.

–Gail Brook Burket

Xu Ping sprawled on his bed and fell asleep.

There were two single beds side by side in the room. Every winter, their dad would push the two together and the brothers would huddle together for warmth on the cold nights.

Xu Ping had bad circulation and his hands and feet were always icy to the touch in winter; Xu Zheng was smaller in size but radiated heat like a fire.

Snowy nights up north meant that the coal furnace couldn’t make the room more than a few degrees warmer. The moment you go under the freezing covers, you must have a tremendous amount of willpower not to jump out s.h.i.+vering like a fish in broiling oil.

On these nights, Xu Ping would pretend to have a lot of homework and delay going to bed. Only when Xu Zheng had warmed the bed would he quickly strip off his winter coat, jump under the covers and hug his brother tight.

Xu Zheng wouldn’t complain even if he was woken up, and would turn around to pull his brother who was a head taller than he into his arms.

And Xu Ping would ask every time, “Are you cold?”

Xu Zheng would nod honestly but still stick his brother’s cold hands under his own winter pajamas.

Warming his brother’s hands and feet was one of lil’ Xu Zheng’s jobs.

His brother might have been impatient with him during the day but would always be very gentle on cold winter nights. His brother wouldn’t tell him to go away or call him stupid. Even if he made some mistakes, he would be quickly forgiven. If the older boy was in a good mood, he might even ask the younger boy about his day at school, what he did, who he met, what he had for lunch and such. Xu Zheng always took a long time before he came up with his answer, and by then, Xu Ping was likely nodding off. His breaths brushed Xu Zheng’s neck like the itchy swipes of a dog’s wagging tail, making an entire side of his body tingly.

That was a Xu Zheng that his brother never knew, one who would tuck the taller boy in snugly with clumsy hands so that he may have a toasty dream.

It was already dark by the time Xu Ping woke up. Someone had taken his shoes off and pulled the covers over him so that he managed to find some sleep after days of insomnia.

None of the lights were on in the house.

He couldn’t hear anything except the ticking of the clock in the living room.

Dad was probably out.

The spot where he had been slapped was still stinging but he let out a sigh of relief.

He gulped down a gla.s.s of water from the kitchen and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt revived.

He glanced at the clock when he went back to the living room. Under the dim moonlight, he saw the hands point to eight-thirty.

He had slept for nearly nine hours!

Whiff. A red dot lit up in the dark only to disappear in the next moment.

Xu Ping stopped dead in his tracks.

The master bedroom door was not fully shut, and he could see the large, still figure that was his dad seated deep in the weave chair. His back was slightly hunched as though something heavy was weighing down on his spine. He had his arms rested on the knees while a lit cigarette rested between his left index and middle fingers. Its feeble red light winked in and out of existence.

Something about this picture made Xu Ping’s heart ache.

Lazy smoke slithered up into the dark air like an ugly beast preparing its attack. The red light glowed at the lift of a hand, and the white paper turned into bleak ash only to fall down without a sound.

Xu Ping turned around, wanting to pretend like he had not seen anything and walk away.

“Xu Ping?” Xu Chuan asked with his back to the door.

Xu Ping could only stop and answer, “It’s me.”

The two fell quiet.

They were the two closest people, yet they couldn’t find the words to hold a conversation.

Xu Chuan killed the smoke and, along with it, all his dark emotions.

“Hungry? I’ll fix us something.”

Neither of them said a word during the meal.

The tomatoes were a bit burnt and the omelette had bits of eggsh.e.l.l in it. Xu Ping spat out the chewed sh.e.l.ls and continued eating his rice.

“Have more veggies.” Xu Chuan put some chives into his son’s bowl.

Xu Ping glanced up. “Thank you, Dad.”

Clunk. The clock hand jumped to nine-thirty. Normally, Xu Zheng would be in bed at this time.

The father and son stopped eating at the same time, and a heavy silence hovered in the room.

“I’ll clean up. You go to bed; you have school tomorrow.” Xu Chuan pulled back his chair and stood up to tidy the dishes.

Xu Ping had just come out from the bathroom after brus.h.i.+ng his teeth when he heard a knock at the door.

There was the splish-splash of water coming from the kitchen with the occasional clinking of dishes and chopsticks.

Xu Ping opened the door to find a plump middle-aged woman with long permed curls standing in the lightless hall. She was wearing a blue satin one-piece while carrying a plastic net bag in one hand.

Xu Ping found her familiar but couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Who are you looking for, ma’am?”

The woman pulled a smile and asked, “Is Lao-Xu in?”

Xu Ping nodded and turned around to get his dad.

Xu Chuan dried his hands and went to see the visitor while Xu Ping dried the clean dishes and placed them back into the cupboard.

He could hear quiet voices from the doorway. His dad was probably having small talk with the visitor. Their voices were too low and he couldn’t make out the words.

In less than five minutes, he heard the door close and the lock clinking into place.

Xu Ping walked out of the kitchen to see his dad placing the bag full of canned fruits on the dinner table.

“Who was that?”

Xu Chuan didn’t answer.

Xu Ping rummaged through the bag; peach, pineapple, mandarin orange, and even two jars of lychee which was hard to find even if you had the money to buy it.