Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 8
Fiction – Group 2
a lot more posters. I worked until my hand ached and my head hurt. I grabbed some tape and
ran down the stairs. We stuck posters everywhere - on lamp posts, shops and windows. Once
we were done, we both stepped back. The whole place was covered. Soon crowds surrounded
the posters gasping and whispering. I high fived Mum and we headed back home.
“Boom, boom, boom!!” There was a pounding on the door. I looked at the small clock
on the wall - 3:23am. I opened the shaking door… Outside was a tall chubby man. He was
wearing a black suit. His face was locked in a frown. I stared at him open mouthed.
He shouted, “ Cathrine Lou!”
Mum sprung up from her bed. As she saw the man her face dropped.
“Who are you?” I managed to mutter.
Suddenly, the man grabbed us and marched us down the stairs into a black car. The
journey seemed like hours. We finally stopped by a white building. We were taken inside.
Fancy chandeliers hung from the ceiling. We stepped into a room full of people.
A tall slim woman shouted, “Ming and Catherine, please sit down.”
Another man pointed to two chairs in the middle of the room.
“Why have you been putting posters all around the Greater Bay Area?”
“Because we want our home back!” Mum answered.
“But actually it’s our land,” he pounded. “You are using the land but not giving anything
back in return.”
Suddenly an idea popped into my head, “Well, we could sell all our left over fish in the
market!” Mum’s eyes sparked with excitement!
“What a good idea!” the woman said. She looked at the guard and said, “Take these nice
people back to their homes.” He nodded and walked us out.
Back home I could smell the salty air. More villagers returned to their homes. But there
was still no sign of Dad. Out of nowhere, a hand waved at us. It was Dad! I ran to him and
gave him a huge hug.
From then on, the Tanka people sold fish to the markets.
Ming has since become a legend and hero to the Tanka people.
69