Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 132

New Tales of The Old Shanghai
Island School, Yap, Ryan - 14
I
stare at the blinding Sun for a second. Then the flashbacks started setting in. I lost everything I had twice, by
the age of seven, in a sunny, warm day in a alleyway by the closed Opium Shop. The breeze from the harbour
gives me some relief from the humid day, as I walk along the Avenue of Stars. I pause for a while, to take a break
for my aging body. As I look around, a group of children playing catch with a baseball. I watch as they throw the
ball around to each other, with a sense of happiness on their face. A happiness I haven’t understood for 8 long
decades. I begin to walk, slowly at first, but quicker at the seconds past. I have to face it now, the past and the
present. Its has been far too long. Or I will never be able to look at myself again, knowing I murdered my best
friend.
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Growing up in Shanghai, I witnessed many events. I saw the rise of gang warfare, the invasion of Japan and the
Communist victory. It all had an impact on me, but the biggest one was the gangs. The gangs, better known as
triads, are what made me today, the sad, deflated, introverted figure of today. They cause great sadness for me. I had
a ordinary childhood, growing up to loving parents as the only son. It all disappeared after the triad wars began.
My father was a proud Chinese businessman. He was a very smart man, yet he was also physically strong. His small,
but sturdy frame make him seems like he is a sportsman. His tanned skin tone, from years of hard work, makes him
stand out in a crowd. I will never forget his handsome face. He was very popular in the neighbourhood as he always
helped out. He was the one who introduce me to baseball, a brilliant ball game, which he was good at of course.
He seems to be able to throw the ball to anywhere he wants, at different speed and direction. He was also a superb
hitter of the ball, often losing the balls on the way. I grew up looking up to him and I still to this day.
My beautiful mother was a real gem in our little community. At least that was what men called her. Her nickname
was the “Queen of the Pearl of the Orient’, as she was considered to be a real beauty. Her slim frame went well
with her usual bright red cheongsam. Her emotions often got the better of her, often getting angry at our servants
for trivial reasons. She was, at times, a cold mother, but she can be really kind if she wanted to be. I still remember
how she helped the homeless outside our street find shelter during the January 28th incident. She was very
patriotic, donating money to the Chinese government
I had a close friend. I consider him a real brother. We grew up together near the walls of the Old City of Shanghai,
in a decent neighbourhood. Our mothers grew up knowing each other, so we are close family friends. He is 6
months younger than me, but it doesn’t feel that way. He has save me from so many situation that I have lost count.
He was constantly the more mature one in our friendship, while I like to think I was the funnier person. We had
a lot of fun together, spending hours playing baseball and gossiping. We always stuck with each other, no matter
what situation. I remember one day, when I got in trouble for hitting one of the bullies at school. Jiao Hao stood
for me in front of the principal, who wasn’t a very nice lady.
My life was altered in a small alleyway, by the Blue Lotus shop, on a seemingly normal April day. I still remember
it like yesterday. It was a nice warm day, with the Sun shining brightly down Shanghai, giving the city an upbeat
mood. It was perfect weather to play baseball. I recollect how I was the pitcher for my local team, the team Jiao
Hao and me played in. We were pretty good that day, winning 12 runs to 2. We were so happy that day,
celebrating that day with great joy. We planned to meet up after dinner, to have fun and play around. As my
parents picked me up, little did I know it was one of the last time I will see or hear from them. I remember my
father words as we were passing by the Blue Lotus, the last things he will ever say to me, in his deep voice.The last
thing before hell broke loose in my life, destroying my emotional side as if it was nothing but a thing in its way.
“Well done, son. I am so proud of it! You could be a pro...”