FRESH BLOOD [53 a 57]

Pag 53

FRESH BLOOD

One day, as we went through the rigors of our afternoon workout, the creaking of the hallway door announced a visitor.

Yuen Lung, who had been assigned to train us while Master was away, slapped the floor with his cane and snapped at us to ignore the distraction. But the arrival turned out to be Master himself, who nodded benevolently at the sight of his sweating students and called for tea to be brought to his guests.

The visitors were a young couple with a small boy, who was clearly somewhat frightened by his new surroundings. “And this is our grand practice hall,” said Master importantly, “and these are our students!”

The couple sat down quietly, and the boy, who looked even younger than I was when I’d arrived at the school, quickly ran to his mother’s lap.

We knew what was happening, and it brought hastily hidden smiles to our faces. Fresh meat was on its way. This was good news, especially for me; there was now a new low man on the totem pole.

But we didn’t have much time to think about the consequences, because Biggest Brother was eager to show off his teaching skills in front of Master and his visitors. He barked a set of new orders, and we jumped back into action.

After tea was served, the master brought out the papers and his seal, and the teaching contract was signed. Master congratulated the parents, assuring them that their son would receive the very best care and training.

We’d all heard it before.

The couple hugged their son, bid him good-bye, and left the academy. Putting his arm around the boy, Master introduced him to his new brothers and sisters. “Everyone welcome the latest addition to our family!”  he said, flashing his nicotine-stained teeth in a wide smile.

We dutifully bowed to the new, and Master took the cane from Biggest Brother, who went to his customary position at the head of the practice formation.

The new boy spent much of the morning session in tears, demanding to know when his parents would return. I saw Yuen Lung and Yuen Tai exchange knowing glances, guessing that this small and fussy boy was likely to be easy prey.

Pag. 54

It was all too much. Feeling sorry for the newcomer, I went over to the new boy and introduced myself.

“Don’t worry, kid,” I said. “We all went through this. You’ll be all right.”

Pleased at the attention, the boy dried his eyes, took my hand, and followed me to the lunch are. The master motioned for the boy to sit next to him at the head of the table, which brought a smile to his face. You could tell the new boy was thinking that things were looking up.

After lunch, we went back to training, beginning our somersault and acrobatics practice. Sitting by himself against the wall, the new kid watched our antics with awe. I looked in his direction and gestured with a shake of my head: C’mon over and give it a try.

The new kid shyly covered his face, but the temptation proved to be too much: after a few more minutes, he timidly walked over and tugged on my shirt. As Yuen Lung executed a complex set of tumbles, I explained to him how a somersault worked.

“Let me try,” he said. “I can do it!”

“It’s tricky….” I said, remembering my clumsy first attempt. I unconsciously rubbed my head, remembering the bump I’d received upon smashing into the hard practice room floor.

The new kid took a deep breath, ran forward a few quick steps, and performed an almost perfect somersault. The master looked on with pride and surprise; the other kids watched with envy.  And Yuen Lung stood there stunned. As far as he was concerned, the new kid should have spent the day crying and sobbing for his parents—not showing off in front of his. The attention he was getting didn’t make them happy at all. For the rest of the day, the kid proved again and again that he was a natural, a born acrobat.

“All of you should learn from this boy’s example!” shouted the master, in a display of fine humor. “One day under my training, and already he could almost perform on the stage!” And with that, he canceled the rest of practice and led the boy away, calling for tea and cookies.

Yuen Lung grabbed onto Yuen Tai’s arm as we filed happily out of the Practice rom, heading for the courtyard to spend the rest of the afternoon at play.

“That kid showed us up,” Biggest Brother growled.

Yuen Tai nodded. “Can’t have that.”

They walked off together, plotting their revenge.

And I decided that it wasn’t going to happen.

That evening, Master sang the new boy’s praise with the arrival of each dish at dinner.

“Look at him, such a small boy,” he said to Madame. “But I can tell already he’s going to be a big star!”

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The new boy laughed and took another piece of fish. Yuen Lung and Yuen Tai exchanged conspiratorial glares.  They’d wipe that smile off his face.

When dinner was over, Master and Madame left the academy for the evening, visiting friends elsewhere in Kowloon. We were between tutors at the time, so there was no evening lesson, and Master didn’t even tell Yuen Lung to put us through a nighttime drill.

Yuen Lung had other plans. He and Yuen Tai followed as the new kid brought his small bag into the storage room where we kept our personal belongings. Like a trained hit team, the pair drifted in behind him, taking care not to draw attention from the other kids. Yuen Tai secured the doorway. Yuen Lung quietly the boy from behind.

The new kid yelped and was silenced by Biggest Brother’s broad hand. “Shaddup, baby,” he said. “It’s only us, your big brothers. Nothing to be scared about, unless you disrespect us, right, Yuen Tai?”

“Right, Big Brother,” snickered Yuen Tai. “Can’t have that.”

The new boy began to cry, and Biggest Brother gave him a rough shake. “It’s all about respect, baby,” he said. “You want to show us you respect us, you got to pay the ‘tribute.’”

“Wh-what tribute?” said the kid, muffled by Yuen Lung’s hand.

“Well, whaddya have?” said Yuen Lung.

“Nothing…” said the new boy.

“Everybody’s got something,” said Yuen Tai.

Despite their attempts to be unobtrusive, I’d seen the big brothers slip away, and I knew what they intended to do. As a result, just as Yuen Lung raised his fist to administer the traditional penalty for disrespecting elders, I found myself ducking under the arm that Yuen tai had stretched out to block the hallway door and stepping into the tiny storage room.

“What do you want, Big Nose?” said Yuen Lung. “This doesn’t concern you.” Biggest Brother had lately taken to calling me Big Nose. I had to admit that the insult fit, not just because I do have a rather big nose, but also because I had a tendency to stick it where it didn’t necessarily belong.

“Leave him alone, Big Brothers,” I said. “Master’s gonna be back soon, and you know that the new kid’s off limits.” Until he’s gotten his first serving of jiajiang mien, I added to myself silently.

As much as he hated it, Yuen Lung knew I was right. He left the new boy and pushed him away with a sullen glower. Yuen Tai wasn’t about to give up that easily.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Little Brother?” he shouted. “You think this is any of your business? Get out of here, before I kick your ass.”

“Don’t you mean ‘kiss my ass’?” I retorted.

Without warning, Yuen Tai swung out and slapped me across the face, bringing a sudden sting of tears into my eyes. I couldn’t hit him back.

Pag 56

That was against the rules. But nothing was going to stop me from using my mouth.

“Screw you, asshole,” I said.

Not believing his ears, Yuen Tai slapped me again. “What did you say?”

“Screw you!” another slap.

“Screw you!” Yet another slap. Now blood was trickling down my chin.

He kept on hitting me. I kept on repeating it. My face began to swell with bruises. And I never lifted a hand against Second Biggest Brother.

“Screw you. Screw you. Screw you.”

Finally, Yuen Lung, who’d decided not to get involved in the situation, heard Master coming in the hallway. He ran out, with the new kid on his heels, shouting Master’s name. By the time Master arrived at the storage room, blood was pouring from my mouth and nose, my jaw was swollen like a chipmunk’s, and I was mumbling “Screw you” dazedly beneath my breath.

“Stop!” shouted Master, breaking Yuen Tai from his trance. If Master hadn’t intervened, he might have gone on hitting me forever. And I’d have just kept on cursing him out, until my lower face collapsed off my skull.

“What the hell is going on here?” Master said angrily, looking at my damaged face.

I looked at Yuen Tai, who seemed suddenly frightened. “We were having a disagreement,” I said.

Master looked at Yuen Tai, who was unmarked, and then at me, my clothes spotted with blood and my face a bruised disaster. “A disagreement,” he repeated. He turned around and walked out the door. “If I see that any of you have a swollen nose or bruised face again, I will kill you,” he said, as he headed back toward his quarters. “How can anyone perform with a damaged face?”

Yuen Lung and Yuen Tai left the room, knowing that they’d escaped a sound beating by the skin of their teeth. And the new kid looked up at me with starry-eyed admiration.

“You know, I was lying,” he said.

“Lying?” I mumbled.

“When I said I don’t have nothing,” he said, digging into his bag. He pulled out a handful of candy bars and gave me one of them. I tore one of them open, and then winced as I tried to open my jaw wide enough to bite it.

“I think I’ll just save this for later,” I said.

“That’s okay,” said the new boy. “There’s more where that came from. I just—Ijust wanted to thank you, Big Brother.”

That was the first time anyone had ever called me that. I smiled and led the new kid out of the room, feeling good despite the aching of my face.

Pag 57

The funny thing is, the whole time I never even knew the kid’s name. And I didn’t find out, either, until a few weeks later, when he received his traditional first dish of jiajiang mein. And then it didn’t matter, because he had a fresh name to replace it.

From that point on, we knew him as Yuen Biao, our newest Littlest Brother.

I feel like everything I’ve said so far has made life at the academy sound like torture and Master Yu sound like a monster. Well, it certainly felt like that was true at the time. There wasn’t a day I was there when I didn’t think of taking Yuen Ting’s way out: escape.

But I had nowhere to run. My mother couldn’t have taken care of me on her own, and anyway, if I’d gone back to the mansion on the Peak, I wouldn’t have had anything to do. I was too young to work, and I wasn’t suited for school. The academy was the only place where my abilities could be developed into something worthwhile, the only place where I had a future.

And look where I am now. I’m the son of a cook and a housekeeper. I grew up fighting for food and eating scraps. I never had toys, or nice clothes, or even a room I could call my own. Yet today I’m one of the most famous people in Asia, maybe even the world, with more money than my parents ever dreamed of, traveling everything, meeting famous people, making movies.

Every time I think about the ten years I spent in Master’s hell, I just think about how Master lived the last decade of his life in an Alzheimer’s haze, barely able to recognize his own family. He spent his last two years in a coma, hooked up to machines that kept his heart pumping and his lungs breathing. When he died at the age of ninety-five, it could only have been a blessing.

You might think I was happy he was gone, that I was relieved finally to be free of the man responsible for a decade of suffering. You couldn’t be more wrong. As far as I’m concerned, Charles Chan was the father of Chan Kong-sang, but Yu Jim-yuen was the father of Jackie Chan.