by Vann Chow
“What records?!” I asked, “are you hurt?”
“Noooo....! Go get the records!” I was about to pull him up to free him from the bodily tangle with the agonizing worker but he pushed me away.
“The transformer might explode!” I said. I had seen these freak accident enough on the news.
“They are in the drawer of the office desk. You know where they are. Zhong, go get it for me!” My father grabbed my sleeves and shoved me towards the fire unexpectedly. This was when I realized the records he was mentioning must meant a lot to him. The collapsed structure's layout was barely recognizable by an outsider, but not to me. I had lived here for nine years in candle-lit darkness nights after nights in my childhood. I could tell which way was the bedroom and which way was the toilet, the two most important places a kid should know even in total darkness by the construction materials because I would fumble my way to and fro every night by touching the walls and furniture along the way. Ignoring the growing heat, I found my way to the piles of falling wall and beams of my father's office, which lied in between the two important landmarks aforementioned.
I dug my hands under a tall heap my ruins in the approximate location of the Zitan wood office desk and found the tactile sense I was expecting. I called to the men Kelvin hired and they rushed over to help me dig the table up. It was broken in the middle and split into two unequal halves. The keys were where my father had told me, on the top left compartment however the keyhole of the largest drawer were the records my father indicated was bent out of shape we could not squeeze the key it.
The fire was spreading and our backs were getting hotter. One of the worker had a brilliant idea and he told us to put the legs of the half desk over his shoulders. As soon as we did it he carried it away, watching not to slip on the grovels.
After tending to my father's request, I thought I would go get something of mine before the fire consumed everything. It was obvious there was no way we could put it off with out chemical reagent in hand. Even if the village fire department might have something, I had very little faith in its efficiency.
Poked out from the approximate location of my childhood bedroom was a modern lamp with a metal body I brought there from the city two years ago on vacation to upgrade the lighting of the room. The light bulb and the light shield were smashed and their remnants nowhere to be found. However, it served as an unyielding guide to where my belongings were. Strewed a meter from it was the bamboo box I was searching for. I hugged it tight and stood up. In that instant, an explosion blasted me face down. The height of the bamboo box kept me from smashing my chest and face on to the hard bricks and broken panels on the ground. I was knocked by the force of it unconscious nonetheless. I sprawled on the debris of my childhood memory and fell into a coma.
A half burnt passport in red fluttered in the wind. Nobody seemed to have paid it any attention when they rescued me.
On the passport, it had a wedding photo of myself and my legal wife, our faces smeared
Chapter 48: Superhero
For the third time in one month, I was on television. Not consciously, this time. I was filmed being carried on a stretcher into an ambulance by the nearby Channel 3. Apparently the fireball had seared me so badly my clothes were burnt to shreds, exposing my bottom.
I did not want any more fame to be honest. Best would be that the public forgot about me completely, especially the last footage. Kelvin assured me that there would be more opportunity coming.
He had decided to invite some media to have interviews with my family and I, using his dad's company's PR contacts. His advice was that I should not underplay the damage Li Kun and his people had caused to my family which I had a tendency to do since I was, according to him, such a pussy normally.
The mean spirited, unplanned bulldozing to clear way for his Feng Cheng Tower, the luxury apartment building he wanted to build on the land his men and women cajoled the villagers into selling or transferring to his company, must be broadcasted to the public. While he had the rights to bulldoze, he had no need to do it in such a hurry.
The reason behind was obvious. His daughter had been put under investigation the day before. In a stroke of genius, he decided to act before the world caught up to him. By bringing all the houses down, he ensure that the villagers could not block the start of his million dollar real-estate project since we had nothing left to fight for.
To such a despicable businessman, Kelvin said we have to launch a smear campaign against him on every platform that would receive us. Our mouths were the most effect weapon poor people have.
Just when I had digested today's financial news on the tele that was hung at the corner of the private room Kelvin's dad had kind enough to pay for, Kelvin burst into my hospital room. I wanted to tell him about the dramatic one-day fall in the stock price of the Sun of China group.
“Guess who's come to see you?” He asked, his face spotting a smirk.
“I don't care as long as it's not my girlfriend.” I answered. I could not bear hearing myself say the word 'girlfriend' anymore. It gave me shudders. I made a mental note never to bring up that word ever again.
“Mmm...” Kelvin pulled the door wide open to reveal the persons standing behind it. “Which one of you are his girlfriend?”
“Hi, Jong.” A giant bouquet of bright orange, pink and red Chrysanthemum came into view. I recognized the owner of the voice immediately without seeing her. It was Marvey. She had Jessie in one hand. Her face was blushing, unclear whether it was from the cold or the question Kelvin asked.
Behind her, Paula stared irritated at me.
“Hi Marv. Hi kiddo.” I said, a big smile formed on my face despite the slight pain that it caused.
Paula cleared her throat and swung a kid's backpack to the end of my bed. It hit my toes.
“Hi Paula,” I greeted her.“ I'm still not dead. Sorry to disappoint you.” I said cheekily.
Marvey turned around to take a look at Paula's sour facial expression and laughed.
“You've made everyone worried about you!” She said. “Does he know how long he slept?”
“Ya, Kelvin told me.” I replied. “He also told me I got fired.”
“You kind of left work without asking for permission from your supervisor...” Kelvin explained.
“Must I get a written approval from my boss to die?”
Paula rolled her eyes when she saw that I could still speak cheekily as usual despite being wrapped from head to toe with bandages because of my skin burns.
“Thanks for coming, Marv.” I smiled at the only woman in the room deserving a smile.
She returned it and started to fiddle with the vase standing on the side of the room so she could arrange the bouquet. She must have caught the surprised on my face when I saw the flowers and said, “No, Jong. These are not Chrysanthemum. These are Daisies. They are your get-well-soon flowers.”
“Trust me. I explained to her already that Chrysanthemum are for funerals but she still insisted on buying them.” Kelvin interjected.
“Was Paula the one picking them?” I joked. “You shouldn't have listened to her advice. She wishes me dead.”
“Ya, right.” Paula said. “What a mess you've gotten yourself into! You're almost blasted to smithereens trying to retrieve some useless memorabilia. Such a useless fool.”
“What's in the box anyway?” Marvey asked.
“It's nothing important.” Paula answered.
“Hey, Paula, do you know something we don't? What's in there?” Kelvin asked, hungry for gossips. “We grew up together. You never told me you've a treasure chest.” He gave me a look of suspicion.
“It's not that unusual.” Marvey said. “Doesn't everybody has a box like that when he or she was young?” Her words saved me from explaining.
Jessie came forward and poured the content of his backpack on my bed. They were all different colors of water markers.
“Brat, what are you trying to do?” I asked, alarmed.
“Unc
le Kelvin said I could draw on your bandages.”
“Look at this.” Kelvin pulled up something on his smartphone and shoved it in front of my face, since I still had very small range of motion. “Spider-man or Captain America. Pick one.”
“WHAT?!” I shrieked at the images of skin burn patients in full body cast that were painted with red and blue paint to look like they were wearing superhero suits. “You'd run out of ink before long!”
“I'd buy him new ones until the masterpiece is finished.” He said to me, then turned to Jessie who was looking at my pristine white bandages of a canvas eagerly. “Go ahead and use your markers. Uncle Kelvin has lots of money. I'll buy you whatever you want.”
“Money's not everything!” I shouted, struggling to move my left leg, trying to dodge the blood red marker in Jessie's hand.
Everyone in the room laughed.
End of Book I.
About the Author
Vann Chow is Chinese and was born in Hong Kong. She started writing stories in English when she was 19, and through them she hoped to share her unique experience and insights from living abroad and interacting with people from all kinds of cultural and social backgrounds with the wider world. Her stories often confront cultural, human rights and social issues. Oscar Wilde, William Somerset Maugham and Alain De Botton are her favorite authors.