Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 597

The Lonely Trafficker
Delia School of Canada, Yu, Bruce - 17
The bright, fluorescent shine of the moon pierced through the dark storm clouds covering the
night sky. Heavy raindrops splattered on a bridge causing echoes louder than fireworks. It was a unique
night, very rarely did you see a storm this large, but tonight was not an ordinary night. Tonight, was the
anniversary of the Hong Kong–Zhuhai–Macau Bridge. It was fitting for such an abnormal storm to befall
such a special night.
Despite the heavy storm, if one were to look hard enough, they would just be able to make out the
hazy silhouette of a secluded minivan gliding across the bridge at an incredible speed. Inside the vehicle was
a man, his calloused hand grappled the steering wheel and his foot pressed hard on the gas. He was unshaven
and looked sleep-deprived; despite his bad posture he had a muscular figure – one similar to that of a
bodybuilder or an Olympic athlete. Formerly, he was a military man: a patriotic soldier who dedicated
himself to serving his nation – China. Despite his toughened and unapproachable appearance, beyond his
hardened exterior laid a soft man who had a wife and two kids. He was just a man who wanted to get his
job done quickly, so he could go back to his family.
A distinct, unpleasant odour reeked from the trunk of the minivan; the odour seeped into the
interior of the car and attached itself to whatever could absorb the scent. The man grimaced at the smell. If
one were to describe this odour, one would compare it to rotten food - the type you would find in a
compost or garbage can. Although none of the border inspectors could tell, it was the smell of baby formula.
This former army veteran was a baby formula trafficker. After the trade embargo from the US, China’s trade
with western nations was limited. China had placed 1,000% tariffs on foreign baby formula and parents were
not willing to pay the price.
Although what he was doing was illegal on every technical level, he did not see the relevance of an
arbitrary law implemented by bureaucrats that did not understand the will of the people. To him, he
provided a necessary service that no one else could. He offered cheap, safe nourishment to babies in need. In
his opinion, there was nothing more chivalrous and admirable. But even so, he dreamed of being something
else. Maybe becoming a farmer, he had long dreamed of owning a farm. Milking cows every day and
harvesting crops: it seemed much more warm and peaceful.
As his mind drifted away from the minivan, his minivan vegan to feel like a cage. He imagined
fathers back with their families while he was forced to endure the brutal storm in his sturdy, but worn-out
minivan. Although his body resided within the vehicle, his soul lied somewhere else. Maybe it was home,
with his loving family. He was many miles away from his homeland, maybe he was homesick. He started
reminiscing about his youth, his love for his country; it sickened him to think he was violating the laws of
his home nation. China, my homeland, you nurtured me when I was just a child. When I was just a young
naive boy you protected me, you watched me grow. Now I violate your laws like a villain hiding in the
shadows.
At that moment, he realised he could not continue his life as a criminal. He would call his wife to
tell him he was switching occupations. Although his family was poor, they did have savings. Maybe he could
convince a bank to give them a loan. He dreamed of his life on the farm, what a great life it would be. He
slowly let go of the wheel to reach for his phone.
The world seemed to slow down as the minivan spun out of control. The minivan hit the rail of
the bridge and sat on the edge between the concrete pavement and the abyss. Unconscious from the impact,
the man laid there motionless. Although the crash was loud, there was no one near who could have heard
the crash or help the man.
Slowly the car drifted into the abyss making a plopping sound as it sunk into the ocean below. Like
a small pebble falling into a much larger lake, the car went unnoticed - fading from reality. As the car
windows cracked from the water pressure, the baby formula escaped from the trunk. Stripes of white slowly
drifted with the current like leaves in a stream. When the authorities found him, the trace of his crimes had