Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 94

New Tales of The Old Shanghai
Island School , Chang , Yohan - 14

F our gentlemen sit , huddled around a low table in a vintage open 1930 ’ s pub in Shanghai , cards sharply poised in their hands , money notes scrambled across the circular poker table . The four players concentrate , zoning into the table , eyes locked , poker faced and they seemed to no longer be concerned of the chaotic stream of people ever so slightly brushing past them . Little did they know that there was already a clear victor . The man tilts his blue hat letting his eyes wander for a while before carefully studying the premade marks on each fifty two cards . Hidden within the crinkled corners of an wornout playing card , contained a carefully laid out code . As the sun starts to dip into the horizon a flutter of cards go up into the amber sky in protest , “ Why can ’ t I win ?!”, said the man who sat directly opposite to the manipulator of the rigged card game . “ Better luck next time ”, said the man with the blue hat . He stood up , skillfully swept up his deck of cards in a skillful manner and stepped out of the patio .

It had been a long day and he had got what he wanted , he strolled comfortably back to the apartment he had rented out . Before going home he always would pick a flower or two , pick up his mail and spend time by the portside gazing into the ocean . The flower woman handed him as he nodded gracefully , as he left the shop he dropped a strip of paper onto the floor , the woman having pretended to not have noticed picks it up and walks into her labyrinth of flowers . He jaunts to the port and stops by the a footbridge , pausing to lean across the railing and takes a deep breathe of the sea breeze . He loosens his tie and let ’ s his collar loose , as he turns away he leaves his tie on the railing and proceeds to make his way home . He steps into the front yard of his stay and opens his mailbox . Inside contains a letter , a parcel and a note in a secret compartment at the back of the box . He pulls all three out and walks up the stairs , past the elevator and up 12 flights of stairs .
As he opens his front door he lays down his shoes and carefully inspects the floor around him , he walks into his living room and carefully sits down in a leather reclining chair . He pulls a small keypuncher out of the parcel and jots down the contents of the note and letter . Looking back and forth of his letter and note he pauses to make supper . While heating his premade food he tosses the note and letter to the flames and its contents were lost to the flame . He sits down on his bed , with a sigh of relief and tells himself through the mirror , “ I ’ ll be home soon , wait for me son ”. He closes his eyes and drifts into a deep slumber , while sleeping , as he turned over onto his back the old , withered and scars shine with the moonlight passing through the window pane .
As the sun rose and sunlight flooded the sunlight , the light crept into his eyes and pried them open . He got up and got dressed and prepared for his routine . He slipped his jacket one , placed a grey Fedora on his head . As he left his house he took his keys and threw them out the window , he slips on his well shined shoes and leaves his homestay . Unlocked . He make his way to his private mailbox and pulls out an envelope which he quickly tucks into his inside pocket within his jacket . He walks past the flower shop , past the bridge and back towards his local bar . As he walks the sun drifts to the middle of the sky , then it stops to take a break .
The man walked and sat down on a chair on the patio , at his usual spot and greeted his usual friends at the bar and proceeded to play another game of cards . “ Good afternoon gentlemen ”, he said to the men . The men greeted him halfheartedly , however one of them did not say hello , he just stared intensely into my eyes and mouthed a silent threat “ I know ”. The game went on as usual and as the game is rigged the man own once again , however at the very end when he announced his victory . One of his opponents pulled out a . 357 and pointed it at his face , He was hit from behind the head and saw black .
“ Ryunosuke Seita ”, you are accused of espionage , by spying for the Japanese . Seita looks up into the face of a battle scarred face , with unwavering fierceness . He looks around the room in a hazy daze as his vision deteriorated and lost focus , “ Your country has sold you out , there is no longer any reason for you to help them , assist us for your vengeance .” Seita realizes his surroundings and noticed blood stains on the floors and knives on the wall . He sat in the middle of an interrogation chamber . As it ’ s prime specimen . He went through days of hellish torture , everyday waking up to the same barking voice , a splash of ice cold and water and the sharp pain of a whip on his bare scarred back . He had had enough , he could no longer return to his son as his final days emerged , he lost his will to live .
The next morning he woke up washed by sunlight , standing up and letting the rays of sunlight bless his skin . It was a beautiful day , he stood on a long field were presented to god , wrapped up in rope . He looked at the blue sky for almost an eternity . Then after a barrage of loud bangs , his body was penetrated with bullets the skies his skies turned crimson , then to grey then to a pitch black eternal darkness .