by JN Lenz
Turning away from the thoughts of two thousand and twenty, I continued to read file number sixty, the target of which had originated from a peculiar source.
Several years before two thousand and ten, a Chinese immigrant family had moved to Largo, Sid had befriended the boy of the family shortly after they had arrived in town. They were a single parent family, the mother, sister and son had come from China in search of a better life in Canada. That was back when Sid was in the last year of elementary school, before going on to middle school the following year. The name of the Chinese boy was Lee Won, his aunt on his mother’s side, had worked for the Canadian Embassy in Guymon.
Having worked as a translator at the Embassy for several years, Fen Woo was able to facilitate her sister’s move and immigration to Canada. Chin Won had been widowed back in China, after Lee’s father had been killed by what government officials termed as an industrial accident. Being new to town and having no friends, I was a little shocked that Sid clicked with Lee so quickly. They had met shortly after the family moved into a basement apartment in a bungalow, a couple of streets over from our home. How fortunate had they been, to start their new lives living along the safe, picturesque streets of Largo?
They lived on one of the many, non-registered municipally illegal basement apartments that helped homeowners tackle the size of their mortgages; since Canada never did see the crazy drop in real estate prices that America experienced. Even to this day, the prices have not realized a declined since the late nineteen nineties, apart from a couple of stagnant years, the prices just continued to rise for the past twenty six years. Surprising, considering there have been little if any wages gains over the same period of time.
The present gap between wages and housing affordability was at its widest point in the country’s history, with relatively stagnant wage gains, renting out a basement apartment became the only means of meeting mortgage payments. The upside for families like the Won’s, instead of living in a small unit of a large apartment complex, they lived in a safe quiet neighborhood in the same way as the home owners did. Aside from the lack of financial upside to residential ownership, the Won family lived life in the same upper end neighborhood as the owners.
Sid had already been friends with three of the neighborhood kids for years, since kindergarten or grade one, I think it was. The four of them would spend all of their spare time together, including playing hockey on the same house league teams in Pee Wee and Midget hockey. The three had been so tight for years; I would not have expected the group of them to add the little Chinese kid to their tight little circle. Sid had met Lee, out cycling on the streets around the front of our house. The boy’s aunt had taught him English from the age of three, so his English by the point they moved to Canada was already very strong.
Why or how the pair had struck up a conversation, who could say? Soon after that initial meeting they began to hang out more and more, Sid started to include him when he went off with his other three chums. Soon the gang of four became the gang of five. The group of them had remained friends to this day, Lee and the one everyone calls Pez, ended up at the University of Toronto, along with Sid. Both of the others, Rip and Bud ended up at Queen’s, only because of its reputation as Ontario’s University party capitol.
On that summer when the five of them had graduated from middle school, Clyde had booked a fly in fishing trip to Pickle Lake, Northern Ontario. The fly in was a reward to Sid for making it to High School, he offered to take all his chums provided everyone’s parents provided their consent. Each one of the boy’s parents had all gotten to know Clyde very well, and with Lilly’s support of the trip each of the boy’s parents had agreed to the fishing adventure. With Lilly being so well known in the community, both for fund raising and her moral fortitude, her support helped dismissed any concerns the parents may have had. The group of them would stay in a large chalet that Clyde had rented on the shore of the northern lake; the waters teemed with a variety of fish.
In Clyde’s typical over the top fashion, he arranged to have a big old twin otter pick the bunch of them and their tackle on the waters of Lake Nippising, in North Bay. The flight to Pickle Lake passed over the hundreds of lakes and millions of acres of rock and bush, all visible with not a cloud in the sky on the day of their departure.
As he aged, I think Clyde just lived to do shit like that for Sid and his buddies, treating those boys like gold, it meant a lot to him. He relished the adventure of flying the boys on that big old Otter onto a remote lake, staying in a grand post and beam chalet. He would teach them how to fish and help them catch their limit every day before heading in for a shore lunches of Pickerel. He knew he was providing Sid and all the boys with the memories of a life time, something he knew nothing of as a child.
“Trips like that help make a difference in a kid’s life, what else am I going to do with my money, Sid always has the time of his life when he is away with his chums.”
Clyde would say to me after I thanked him for the generous gift. The trips he had taken Sid and his companions on over the years, one of the few things that Clyde liked to crow about. His heart led him to believe he was making a difference in all those boy’s lives with these trips.
It would be on that particular trip to Pickle Lake, the six of them had gone to the chalet three times to date, that Clyde would hear the name of his sixtieth victim for the first time. Late one evening after most of the boys had gone to bed, or fallen asleep beside the fire, Lee remained awake talking to Clyde while they both sat by the fire. Clyde had brought some whiskey, along with a couple cases of beer in cans, after diner he would let the boys have a couple of beers.
All the parents, other than Lee’s mother, had been over to our house several times in the past, Clyde had drank with them all several times in the past as well, none of them had an issue with the boys having a beer or two. Lee’s mother was less receptive to the idea of her son drinking alcohol and voiced this to Clyde, she did however truly appreciate what all of us, including Clyde, Had done for little Lee. The mother knew having her son fit into society, and his friendship to the other boys was of great importance to Lee, so she said he could drink but she requested to Clyde.
“Please not too much, thank you”.
That evening by the fire when the others had fallen to sleep, Lee had initially adhered to his mother’s request to only have one can of beer, the remainder of the boys each had three beer each, along with a shot of whiskey. After the long day of fishing, the euphoria the boys felt from the alcohol they consumed after diner, was short lived as they all had fallen asleep by ten PM.
While the other boys drank the three beers and the shot of liquor which Clyde had limited to, in short order, Lee clutched the same beer can he started with after dinner. As the other boys spun and whirled about, Lee watched and joked with and at the others until their energy and enthusiasm ended abruptly, one by one, all of the boys but Lee had fallen asleep.
That left just Lee sitting around the fire with Clyde, who asked him if he wanted another beer, Clyde had noticed the boy had only consumed one beer.
“OK, I will drink another beer, thank you” would be the reply
I had always got the impression Lee appreciated any time around any man that would give him some attention, I guess without a father for most of his life, he was just searching for some kind of father figure. Without a doubt, Lee was always the best behaved of the gang of five. It was not like he did not joke around, and goof off with his buddies, but around adults he always demonstrated a respect not evident in your average kid.
Returning from the kitchen, a couple cold cans of beer in his hands, Clyde would write how he never saw such a big smile on a kids face before, and he knew the kid was not all that crazy about the taste of beer to begin with.
The kid thanked Clyde, and just kept on talking. The boy had been relatively quiet while the others loudly joked and paraded around while they drank, but now as they slept, Lee had much to say to Clyde, who he had all t
o himself. The two of them talked about everything from fishing, to embalming dead people.
Lee had become so caught up in the conversation, and the one on one time he was having with Clyde, that he had begun to match Clyde beer for beer for the next five beers. Clyde wrote how he maybe should cut the little guy off at three beers, but the kid seemed so happy and the booze was yet to turn him into an idiot, so he let him drink a total of six beers. There was no chance he would bring out the whiskey to share with young Lee; half dozen beers would be plenty.
Once Clyde had provided the last of a half dozen beers to Lee, the alcohol was finally showing its effects on the boy who had become emotional. Without notice, Clyde would see a pair of tears rolling down the checks of young little Lee, he immediately asked the boy why we was crying.
Looking up, the young Chinese boy said he imagined his father would be much like Clyde, he could not remember much about his dad as he was only six when his father had been killed.
“I am sure he would be just like you.” Sobbing, the boy continued to explain how badly he missed his father, mother had told him that his father had not been killed in an industrial accident at all, but was executed by the Chinese military.
“Please, you cannot tell anyone, my mother swore us to silence on the murder of our father”. Lee would beg Clyde
“Don’t you worry about that, your secret is safe with me. There is nothing to be ashamed of though, if that is what your mother is worried about. I have read of the thousands of systematic executions each year across China, it is a real tragedy”
“My mother is so grateful to be in Canada, she wants no trouble in our new country. After seeing firsthand what had happened to her husband, she wanted no part in being a dissident. Mother’s whole family still lives in China she worries they will disappear if she makes trouble over here.”
“I understand completely. Like I said Lee, I will never repeat this to anyone. You have my word on that son”
“Mother explained to me that my father Chui worked in a factory that produced cell phones. The work pace was relentless for the full fourteen hour shift, only a half hour in each workday was set aside for break. The factory employed over ten thousand workers on two overlapping shifts; the suicide rate among the workers had been steadily increasing. Before his death, Chui had taken part in several demonstrations, the factory management made note of his propagating dissent. Later they would discover he had been distributing anti-government and higher wage literature, to dozens of workers throughout the factory.”
“So you father was a very brave man Lee, to risk everything to make the people’s lives around him better proved he had real courage.”
“Thank you, I know he is a very brave man, my dad. He was very much like so many of the Chinese from poor interior farming communities, dad left my mom and us in the country to migrate to the city for work. Like the millions of fellow Chinese migrant workers, slaving in one of the thousands of factories to support their families back home. Mom would say that the distribution of anti-government literature to fellow workers had also been reported back to a local communist party office, both by a mole that the government had planted on the factory floor and from the factory manager. The week before Chui’s death, he had told mother, on his weekly phone call back home, of his suspicions that one of his fellow activist members was in fact a communist party spy. A man by the name of Faol Dung. “
The words and the story raced from the little boys mouth
“Faol Dung, he even sounds like a piece of shit.”
“Ha-ha your right. He is a piece of shit.”
“Your father was a brave man”
“Mother begged him on the phone that day to be careful, yelling at him to stop voicing his opinions, telling him to let the others be the first to take a stand. Mother told me that dad was far too quick to voice his concerns over the conditions for the poor, even back home in the small farming community, he was often too bold. Elders would tell stories of how many had disappeared over the years, having spoken out against the communist party. Even after all the sweeping changes in China would only reduce, not eliminate all the disappearances and executions. Mother fears the same will happen to her sister and family that is left back home if she tries to make trouble here”
“Understood totally, that is an amazing story lee. Your father is a true hero, the kind that never make the headlines, but one that helps change the world for the better. You should be very proud to have had a father like that, my father was alive most of my life and I don’t think he ever did a single thing for anyone but himself.”
“Then you are nothing like your dad, you do lots of things for the five of us. Thanks for listening to my story, I never thought I would tell anyone this, but it feels good to get it all out.”
“I’m glad you shared it too, and like I said not a word to anyone.”
The maturity that little boy showed even after consuming more beer than he had in his entire life to that point impressed Clyde immensely, he was instantly intrigued and wanted to learn all he could about one Foal Dung.
“There is more to the story if you want to hear the rest?”
“Of course I do, if there is more?”
“Yes, I nearly memorized it word for word when my mother explained it all to me. One week, less a day following father’s last phone call back home, a representative from the factory where he worked called to report that Chui (father) had committed suicide. The company offered no condolences or explanation than to say they had arranged to send him back on the train, so he could be buried in his home town. Mother begged with the manager who had called from the factory, telling him Chui would never do such a thing. There must be some mistake, but the pleas by mother were to no avail, the manager quickly provided the details on the arrival of her dead husband at the village train station, and promptly hung up the phone.”
“They just called and said it was a suicide, that’s it? Did they say he left a note of anything?”
“No official at the factory, or the government would give mother any answers, other than to say he had hanged himself in a factory washroom.”
“Sure sounds like a cover-up to me, with no way to find out the truth”
“There was the day of the funeral, I remember a man talking to my mother, I had never seen him before. He would tell her he had worked with my dad, how brave Chui had been in educating the workers of their rights, organizing them to demand better working conditions, and better wages. The mystery man left no name with mother, only offering that Chui had not committed suicide, as the official report had indicated, but had in fact been murdered to keep him quiet. The party officials were worried he was organizing a rally with the workers, to go against the management and owners of the factory. There are others that will continue on, the murder of Chui will not be in vain, and the mystery man assured Chin before he vanished that day.”
“So they did murder him?” Of course your brave father would never take his own life.”
“Mother told me that within a few weeks the entire factory work force would walk off the job, demanding higher wages and better working conditions. The work stoppage made the world news, as similar stoppages and spread to several other large scale manufacturing facilities throughout China. Workers would be granted double digit wage increases as a result of that first walk out by that factory, the worldwide media attention helped in bringing a quick resolution to the workers’ demands.”
“See what your father helped to accomplish, that is an amazing story, terribly sad, but amazing”
“I hate Faol Dung with all my being, I wished he was dead” The tears which had abated while young Lee described the details of his father’s death, once again began to stream down his face.”
“Faol Dung will pay for this Lee; life has a way of paying you back for your wrongs. Trust me he will pay a price for what he has done to your father.”
“I wish I could believe you, and I want to believe you, but I can’t. I miss my father”
“I know you do Lee, but he is still with you, inside of you. You are who you are because of your father; no one can ever take that away from you. Your father was a hero and no one can take that away from you either”
“Thanks uncle Clyde, you’re so nice to me. I think I’m going to go to bed now”
“Good plan bud, we have some Pickerel with our names on them out there. Need you guys out of bed by six, early bird catches the worm my friend”
“Good night uncle Clyde, thanks again”
“Any time buddy, good night Lee”
The sudden outburst, coming at the end of the story, had sapped the last bit of energy out of the kid, that and a long day of fishing.
There was certainly no mystery where this file was headed now; Clyde followed the telling of Lee’s story with a list of results on his search into one Chinese man by the name of Faol Dung. Researching and discovering the real story behind a Chinese National was no small task, the traditionally secretive society made the discovery of information that much harder. In addition to stalwarts such as Google, Clyde would scour on line blogs in an attempt to build his profile on Faol Dung.
With the implementation of the DNA security scanners at all the international air ports, Clyde had avoided all commercial travel for the past five years. If he was serious about perusing Faol Dung in China, it would require expensive private jet charters to enter a country he otherwise, had no interest in entering.
Following hours of searching the web, Clyde was able to piece together a patch work story line on the life of Faol Dung. There would be one Chinese blogger in particular, whose information proved to be vital. The man was now living somewhere in the United States; he would not disclose his place of residence for fear of the Chinese government and their secret service, or MSS.