Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 130

fresh air.
Atop the deck once again, I spotted a boy leaning against the side of the boat who looked about my age. His
hair was stashed up in a top knot, more disheveled than everyone else, and he seemed to be entranced by the waves in
the distance. Tentatively, I walked up and stood next to him. “I’m Hui” I stated, rather awkwardly. “Disung” he
quietly replied, his gaze remaining fixed on the horizon. “Where are you from?” “Xi’an” he responded, still softly “I
travelled for four months to get to Zhuhai with my uncle.” “Woah. I’m just from Zhuhai. My whole family lives
there.” Later that day, Disung and I had to begin reorganising the goods in the hold, our hasty exit from the port meant
that valuables were strewn across the hold. It was laborious work, the huge crates were especially heavy, after a few
hours of sorting and shifting we were drenched in sweat and finally able to head back up for some fresh air.
Our relaxing break was interrupted by shouts from the Captain, “Everyone over here! Now!” Disung and I
quickly sat up and hurried over to where the rest of the crew were gathering. The Captain was a plump little man, who
was shorter than most of the crew but weigh more than half of us combined. His stature should not deceive you,
however, his bellow was resonating, like the roar of a lion and could be heard for miles. He had summoned us for what
seemed to be a sort of meeting. Although I was never the most attentive of people, I did try to stay focused on what he
was saying. “We should be landing in Quang Ngai within the next day or so, this means that you lot are going to have
to get the hold together and prepare for anything else you need before we get there. As we arrive I am going to need
everyone on deck so listen out” he instructed, “That’s it, get back to work!” Well, there goes our short break, I
thought.
I spent the rest of the day completing menial tasks around the boat. First, I had to scrub the deck with another
boy called Daquan, it was back-breaking work and the fierce sunlight scorched my neck, transforming it into a painful
red streak. Afterwards, I was sent to move several crates, which I had only hours before neatly organised with Disung.
The quartermaster forced us to continue our arduous work past sundown but I could at least sense the buzz of
excitement from the crew, all impatient for seeing the shore tomorrow.
I was the last person to be released from work so when by the time I made it up to the deck it seemed as
though the rest of the crew had already fallen into a deep sleep. It was the middle of the night, yet there was a murmur
of voices from the Captain’s quarters and the lanterns in that area were still alight. Curious, I quietly rose to my feet and
snuck across the length of the deck, leading myself to a position just below the Captain’s quarters, beside the stairs that
led up to them. I tilted my head to the side trying to hear what they were saying, wondering what could have led to a
mysterious midnight meeting. At first, I could only catch snippets of the conversation “...send them down”, “...give us
time”, “...the treasure”, but as I continued to listen in, my ears adjusted to their tone and I was able to hear much,
much more. “Make sure you’re armed”, “Don’t let the crew take down the goods”, “Send the others down first”.
Something was definitely amiss, this was not the conversation of some kind-hearted men hoping to spread prosperity
throughout the region. This was the conversation of a pirate.
Not sure what to do, I shook Disung awake. I couldn’t say that we were the closest of friends but he was my
best bet. Short of breath, I quickly told him everything that I had heard and seen. Surprisingly, he believed me. “I knew
something was up” he whispered, “No one is that good a person.” Although depressing, that seemed to summarise
what I was thinking as well. Now in agreement that our ship was actually a pirate ship, we clambered down to the hold
where no inquisitive ears could hear us.
“What should we do?” I asked, desperately hoping for an answer. “I really don’t know” Disung replied.
When I set off just a few days ago, this was not the battle that I imagined I would be fighting. Together we sat there for
several hours, struggling to find a solution to our predicament. The creaking of
the boards above us didn’t help our focus and the constant fear of being discovered remained. Every particularly loud
thump or voice was like a tendril of ice, causing us both to freeze and taking several minutes to thaw. This staccato pace
of discussion was painfully slow and awfully ineffective.
Then I had an idea.
The rest of the night flew by in a blur of excitement and activity. Disung and I worked together like a well-
oiled machine, rearranging storage and collecting supplies. Tirelessly, we continued plotting all night long, determined
in our pursuit. We knew that we could not let these men get away with this. While we were sorting out the logistics of