Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 74

I Promise
Bradbury School, Cao, Shuhan – 10
W
e heard the first echo of gunshot at dawn. For a second, the horizon lit up in a brilliant orange, before
dying into a smoky colour, the same as the surrounding sky. I transferred my gaze onto mama, just in time
to see a single tear roll down her cheek. She’s probably dreaming of papa, she’s been like that ever since he left
two years ago, when I was 6, to join the army.
“Jade! Get under cover! There’s a Japanese bomber up there, get under cover, quick!” Mama shouted.
“Whaa?” I mumbled, still half asleep
“GET UNDER COVER!”
I woke up after what seemed like days under a mountainous heap of rubble, my head throbbing, my body
aching, and with no memory of what happened before. A thought flashed into my mind, where’s mama? I shoved
at the thing pinning me. It didn’t move an inch. But I didn’t give up; I knew that in order to find mama, I need to
get it off. I pushed for ten minutes, nothing happened. Seeing that, I pushed some more.
When I finally succeeded, I examined my arms and legs; there were a few scratches and scrapes, but surprisingly,
no serious injury. A ray of light shone through a nearby opening, as my eyes adjusted to the light, I was able to see
my surroundings. Then, the strangest thing happened. The thing that was pinning me groaned. Unable to contain
my curiosity, I crawled toward it, as I brushed away the dust, I gave a strangled gasp. I was looking at a face; I was
looking at the deathly pale face of mama.
I got mama out the opening with no problem, which is good news, but I knew that was not enough. I had to
get her to hospital. Now that I could see clearly again, I saw a wound at her side, blood gushing out. She’s pale,
yet I can see the rise and fall of her chest. Rickshaws circled around, hauling people to hospital. One of them came
over to me. “Hospital, right?” He asked, “We’d better get her there quick.”
“Wait!” I told him, “I don’t have any money!”
“Money, money, money. That’s what everyone’s worrying about. But that’s not the main thing, is it? We need to
get her to hospital.”
I nodded and clambered on.
Mama’s in hospital, so far, one problem solved, but other thoughts kept whirling into my mind. “Fees,” Said a
thought, “10 silver dollars.” But that’s not important. “Papa,” said another thought, “look after me.” Now that’s
important. Then, an idea snapped in place. “I’ll go to Long Ting! Soldiers eat there, maybe I can find out more
about papa!” I decided.
I arrived just as some waiters lead a group of armed men, soldiers, into a room. I couldn’t catch up with them
then, so I decided to wait until they’d finished eating. I saw waitresses close both the door of the room and the
corridor door. Being shut outside, I paced around and watched, deciding to ask them about papa when the
soldiers came out.
I couldn’t resist myself, but I peeked through the keyhole. There is someone in the corridor, a waiter, judging
by the look, who hasn’t left, who is pressing his ears to the door, listening. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I was
hallucinating. When I looked again, he was still there, but this time, he had took out a notebook and was jotting
down notes. “He’s a spy!” That was the first thing that came in my mind.