MY BROTHER, MY ENEMY [34 a 35]

Pag. 34

MY BROTHER, MY ENEMY

The next day, I opened my eyes to find that all of the other students had already awakened. Master and Biggest Brother stood at the front of the room, leading the boys and girls through a grueling set of warm-up exercises. Kicking aside my blanket, I stretched and wandered through the ranks of sweating students, whistling to myself and laughing at their expressions of exertion. Some of them shot dirty glances at me, but I didn’t care; no one was telling me what to do, no one was yelling at me, and for the first time in my life, I was completely free to do whatever I wanted.

Breakfast had already been served, eaten cleared, so I wandered into the kitchen looking for something to much on. It was empty, and all the food locked away in the pantry. That was too bad—I was dying of hunger.

Then I remembered that my mother had, on the walk over from the ferry terminal, bought me a bag of snacks and sweets. It was still sitting in the entry room, along with my small suitcase.

Rummaging quickly through the bag, I found some arranges and a handful of plum candy. I ran back to the practice hall and sat down in one corner, watching the students work while peeling an orange and stuffing segments into my mouth.

After an hour, the master called a short break, and the students broke into smaller groups to talk and catch their wind.

I had finished one of the oranges and set the other aside for later, and was sucking intently on a piece of the dried plum candy when a harsh voice broke my concentration.

“Hey, new boy, where’d you get that food?” It was Yuen Lung, his white shirt damp with perspiration and his face mean. Behind him was his constant sidekick, an equally rough older kid named Yuen Tai.

“My mom gave it to me,” I said, my mouth full of plum.

“What’d you say?” said Yuen Lung, his eyes narrowing.

Yuen Tai stepped forward and stuck his hand in my face. “When you speak to an older student, you’d better call him Big Brother,” he said. “Say it.”

“My mom gave it to me, Big Brother,” I repeated, gritting my teeth.

Pag. 35

“Apologize to your Big Brother,” Yuen Tai said.

“I’m sorry, Big Brother.”

Yuen Lung’s face lit up with a victorious smile. “Yuen Tai, what’s the penalty for disrespecting your elders?”

Yuen Tai thought for a second. “Penalty is no more snacks, Yuen Lung.”

Yuen Lung snatched away my second orange, while Yuen Tai pried open my hand to remove the remaining pieces of plum candy.

“Hey!” I said.

“You got a problem, new boy?” said Yuen Tai, his mouth full of candy.

The space between their two heads was suddenly filled by Master’s stern and questioning face. “Is there a problem here?” he said, an edge in his voice.

“No, Master!” said Yuen Lung, shoving the orange into his pocket, where it bulged like a horrible tumor. Yuen Tai swallowed with difficulty, his eyes crossing, then rattled out a weak “No, Master” of his own.

I grinned to myself. You see, every piece of dried plum candy has a hard pit at its center. In his haste to get rid of the evidence, Yuen Tai had just swallowed four or five pits at once.

“Kong-sang?” said Master, his eyebrow quirked.

“Everything’s fine, Master!” I chirped, folding my hands in my lap. Yuen Lung glared at me and mouthed a curse in my direction.

The two older boys went back to their practice, and I sat humming my mom’s favorite song to myself, watching the, happily until the call for lunch.