Hong Kong! Page 4

  Alfie thought it was all slightly strange, but he was willing to give it a try. So he looked out at the water, saw a spot he thought might be good (but really had no idea), and threw out his line the way Kang showed him.

  “Very nice,” Kang said. He sat down on the bench and tossed his line out with ease. “Now, we wait.”

  If someone had told him a week ago that he would enjoy sitting in a fishing boat in the cold with an old man being perfectly silent, he would have laughed. But there was something Alfie liked about fishing that morning. Something about the quiet of the shifting water, and knowing he was so close to the quick pace of the city but also very removed from it.

  Suddenly, he felt a tug on his line.

  “I got something!”

  Alfie excitedly pulled back on the line. Kang scooted over to him and put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the top of his hand, steadying him.

  “If you get too excited, the fish will, too,” Kang said. “Be calm, and he’ll swim to you.”

  Alfie worried that the weight of the struggling fish would pull him into the water, but he used all his strength and tried his best to stay calm. Once he reeled the fish in and Kang helped put it in the bucket of water in the bottom of the boat, Alfie felt the full moment of success through patience.

  “I did it,” Alfie said as he tried to catch his breath from excitement and exertion. The fish was as big as his forearm! It was silver with brown spots and orange fins.

  “Very good,” Kang said, inspecting the fish. “That’s a beautiful cod. Have the family cook this up for you when you return to the restaurant. Eating what you catch is the best reward.”

  “Thanks,” Alfie said, proud that he’d done it on his first try. He was a natural!

  Kang and Alfie stayed out on the water for a while. They didn’t catch any more fish, but that didn’t matter to Alfie. He was glad he’d decided to join Kang rather than go to the restaurant.

  Once they got back to the promenade, Kang scaled and gutted the fish, then put it in a plastic bag for Alfie.

  “Thanks for showing me how to fish,” Alfie said, taking the bag from Kang.

  “Get that fish back as quickly as you can,” Kang said. “The fresher the better!”

  Alfie couldn’t wait to taste it! He’d get back to the restaurant as soon as he could.

  The entire way back, Alfie had butterflies in his stomach, worried that he might get lost. Luckily, the directions and simple map that Ying had given him were very clear, and he only took one wrong turn and realized his mistake quickly. Yep, my map-reading skills and sense of direction are pretty awesome, Alfie thought as he turned the corner and saw the Golden Lion.

  Although the restaurant would not open until tomorrow, it was a hive of activity. He saw Aunt Chan walk by, pan in hand, a look of concentration on her face. Alfie found Emilia by the aquarium, staring at the fish.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I got in trouble.” She kept her eyes on the fish, tracing her finger over the glass.

  “What’d you do?”

  “I swept the floor,” she said, her voice cracking a bit.

  Alfie wanted to laugh, but his sister seemed so upset that he didn’t dare. “I don’t get it. Shouldn’t you be thanked for that?”

  “You’d think. I didn’t know that sweeping during the Spring Festival is bad luck,” Emilia explained. “It’s like sweeping all the good luck right out the door. I was just trying to help out. Uncle Wu came running over, waving his hands for me to stop. When he told me, I was so embarrassed.”

  “You didn’t know,” Alfie said. He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He hated seeing his sister upset.

  “There you are!” Aunt Chan called to Alfie, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a towel. She forced a smile, but Alfie thought she looked tired and a bit worn out. “How was the fishing?”

  “Great,” Alfie said, holding up the bag. “I caught this.”

  “Well, congratulations! We should cook that up right away.” Which was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to learn the best way to cook it and see how fish this fresh tasted. “Where’s Ying?”

  Alfie and Emilia looked nervously at each other—that was a tricky question.

  “Uh . . . ,” Alfie began. He looked to Emilia for help. “I thought . . .”

  “She must be right behind you, right, Alfie?” Emilia looked at him hard, telling him with her eyes to just go with it.

  “Well?” Aunt Chan asked.

  When he didn’t say anything, Aunt Chan folded her arms and said, “Did she leave you all the way out in Sai Kung?”

  Uncle Wu walked out from the kitchen just then and said, “Alfie! You’re back! Where is Ying?”

  “I bet I know where she is,” Aunt Chan said sharply.

  “Ying didn’t stay with you?” Uncle Wu asked Alfie.

  Alfie hated ratting her out, but he didn’t want to lie. “I told her it was okay. I knew I could get back on my own—it was easy.”

  “What are we going to do with that girl?” Aunt Chan said. “Her disobedience is going to jinx us.”

  “Now, now,” Uncle Wu said.

  “What if that Mrs. Liu shows up tomorrow? The first day of business—that’d be just our luck.”

  “She probably won’t. Reviewers know businesses need a few days to settle in,” Uncle Wu said. He looked to Alfie and Emilia. “For now, maybe I should take you two home. It’s been a long day.”

  “Don’t forget that the electrician is coming, and I need to pick up the tablecloths we ordered.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Uncle Wu said.

  “We can go back on our own,” Alfie said. “If you could write down directions, that is. I’d like to learn the way.”

  “Well, I suppose you did make it on your own from Sai Kung, and the apartment isn’t far from here,” Uncle Wu said, thinking. “I’ll give you the apartment keys. You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

  “We’ll be fine,” Emilia said, suddenly stepping up. “I’d like to see more of the city by walking the streets, anyway.”

  “Are you absolutely sure?” Aunt Chan asked.

  Alfie watched Emilia nod her head with total confidence, saying, “Yes, we’re sure.”

  “And as for Ying,” Aunt Chan said, “she had better be at the apartment when we get home tonight. ”

  Uncle Wu wrote down directions—it wasn’t a far walk, maybe fifteen minutes—and Aunt Chan handed her cell phone to Emilia. “Take this, in case you get lost or we need to get in touch with you.”

  As soon as they left the restaurant, Emilia said, “We have to warn Ying.”

  “How are we going to warn her?” Alfie said. “We don’t even know where she is. Wait,” he said, seeing a look in his sister’s eyes. “Do you know where she is?”

  “She’s at the gym,” Emilia said.

  “I figured that,” Alfie said. “But do you know how to get there?”

  “She gave me directions, just in case.”

  “Ying’s already in trouble, and now we’re going to be in trouble.”

  “She’s just doing what she loves,” Emilia said. “I think it’s cool, and I like her.”

  “I like her, too, but she’s stressing out her parents. Why can’t she just, like, behave?”

  “You mean like you always do?” Emilia said.

  “I’m just saying,” Alfie said, slightly embarrassed.

  After a couple more turns, they came to a sign that had both Chinese characters and English words. WEI’S SCHOOL OF GYMNASTICS, MARTIAL ARTS, AND DANCE, it read. Alfie followed Emilia inside.

  It was hard to believe that in a city so compact that people literally lived on top of each other in high-rise apartments that there could be a space as huge as this.

  The students looked like a
bunch of bouncy balls. Everywhere Alfie looked, girls and boys sprang across mats, flipped over bars, and twisted through the air.

  “There she is,” Emilia said, pointing to the other side of the room.

  Ying was off to the side, separated from the others and working privately with a coach and another girl. They were doing some sort of routine that looked almost like ballet. She and the girl dipped into a low, graceful slide before moving back up then twisting their bodies this way and that.

  Alfie and Emilia watched for a few minutes as Ying and the girl worked on their moves with the coach. They’d never seen anything like it—a combination of dance and gymnastics and maybe even martial arts that was both graceful and powerful. The other girl lifted Ying almost to her shoulders, then gently set her down as they bent in a wavelike movement.

  “I thought she was doing regular gymnastics,” Emilia said. “This is amazing.”

  Alfie totally agreed. Their coach dismissed them, but Ying obviously wanted to run through the section again. She kept shaking her head as if she felt it could be done better. Alfie realized that he’d thought she was irresponsible because she never showed up on time; he’d thought she was lazy because she never wanted to help her parents. It turned out she’d been working hard all along—harder even than he’d worked at soccer, or anything else, really.

  “Think we should go over to her and tell her she needs to go home?” Emilia asked.

  “I’m afraid to interrupt her,” Alfie said.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Ying and her partner finally did stop. The coach gave them high fives.

  “We’d better get her,” Alfie said. “Otherwise she’ll be here all night.”

  They walked across the gym toward Ying. When she saw them, a surprised look spread across her face.

  “Ying, you’re amazing!” Emilia said. “We had no idea.”

  “Thanks,” she said. She stopped for a drink of water. “Wait—if the two of you are here, it must mean there’s trouble at the restaurant.”

  “There is,” Emilia said. “You’d better head home.”

  “Oh no. What happened?” Ying asked.

  “Emilia swept the floors,” Alfie said.

  “And they know you left Alfie at Sai Kung,” Emilia added.

  Ying quickly pulled on her tracksuit. “We should go.”

  “And fast,” Emilia said. They hurried out of the gym. “Your mom said you’d better be at the apartment when they get home, or else.”

  “Let’s hope they’ve cooled off once they get there,” Ying said.

  They all hoped so, but Alfie had a feeling they wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Aunt Chan and Uncle Wu had indeed cooled off by the time they got home—to the point of being cold. They looked tired and disappointed, and they barely spoke. Alfie felt a new pang of guilt, knowing that he and Emilia were a part of the reason their day had been tough.

  The family ate an uncomfortably silent dinner of beef in a black- bean sauce. Aunt Chan and Uncle Wu also cooked Alfie’s cod, which he was happy for even though he felt bad for what had happened. Alfie worked slowly with his chopsticks, careful not to drop the food—although he did, and often. His hand kept cramping from the effort. He remembered what Aunt Chan said about spearing his food, which his stomach begged him to do, but he knew better. The cod he managed to get to his mouth was delicate and flaky, and he wished for a fork so he could eat every last bite.

  “As you know, the restaurant opens tomorrow,” Uncle Wu said during dinner. “I didn’t think I needed to remind anyone of that, but maybe I do.” Ying lowered her head, and Alfie knew she really did feel bad about the day.

  “As for you,” Aunt Chan said, looking at Ying, “you’re to be there at the restaurant all day. We need you to help, and you need to learn some responsibility.”

  “This means that tomorrow,” Uncle Wu said, “you will not go to gymnastics.”

  “But, Father!”

  The look he gave Ying made it clear he wouldn’t be swayed. “It’s just one day, and it’s our most important day. Surely you can handle that without complaining.”

  “But, Father, you don’t understand . . . ,” Ying said.

  “That’s enough—any more and it will be more than just one day of no gymnastics.”

  “I can’t believe he did that,” Ying said later that evening as they sat in Ying and Emilia’s room. A plate of almond cookies sat on the bed between them. “It’ll be a disaster if I can’t practice.”

  “What were you and that girl practicing, anyway?” Emilia asked.

  Ying sat up straight and her eyes brightened. “That’s the big thing I’m working on. Ju and I are rehearsing for a dance we’ll do at the parade in four days.”

  “You get to march in the parade?” Emilia said.

  “Not march,” Ying said. “Dance. Well, acrobatic dance. Like martial arts meets gymnastics meets dance. Sort of.”

  “So that’s what we saw you working on at the gym?” Emilia asked.

  “It’s actually kind of a big deal,” Ying said, blushing slightly. “Ju and I were chosen as the junior dancers to perform. We’re in a traditional Chinese costume. It’s an elaborate lion and I’m in the front. I control its head and move its mouth and even its eyes. It’s a tradition about scaring away evil spirits and bringing luck to the new year.”

  “Is everything done to bring luck?” Alfie asked.

  “Well, you can never have too much of it, right?” Ying said. “Now you know why I’ve been so crazy. I’m really not always so sneaky, but Ju and I have extra rehearsals so it’s been more than my regular gym time. I’m sorry I’ve put you in so many awkward situations.”

  “It’s okay,” Emilia said. “You’re just trying to do something you love and that will make your parents proud.”

  “Exactly,” Ying said. “I really do want to make them proud of me. Hopefully once they see me in the parade they’ll understand.”

  “Just remember what your dad said,” Alfie reminded her.

  Ying snapped another almond cookie in two. “Father’s bark is worse than his bite,” she said.

  Alfie helped himself to another cookie and let himself believe that everything would be okay.

  The next morning, Aunt Chan and Uncle Wu woke everyone up early for a surprise.

  “This is a tradition in Hong Kong,” Uncle Wu said. “And we think it’s important to do with the restaurant opening today.”

  “It’s a big day for all of us,” Aunt Chan said. “We need lots of good luck!”

  The surprise was a trip to a temple in a small village just a short bus ride from the apartment. They walked through a courtyard packed with people and in the center of the crowd stood a large tree glowing bright with orange balls and red ribbons. As they got closer, Alfie realized the balls were actually oranges.

  “There aren’t many places left that still allow you to toss oranges into the trees,” Uncle Wu explained. “Most use sticks—easier on the tree since they’re not as heavy. But here they still keep up the old tradition. Write down a wish for the new year.” Uncle Wu handed everyone a red piece of paper with a hole punched in the top. “Make it a good one, something special.”

  Ying and Aunt Chan were already bent over the small folding table busily writing on their pieces of paper. Alfie thought carefully about what to write as he waited for a pen.

  “There,” Aunt Chan said, holding up her card. She showed it to Alfie.

  “It’s okay if I see?” he asked. “At home it’s bad luck to tell your wish, like when you blow out your birthday candles or toss a coin into a fountain.”

  Aunt Chan smiled. “Go ahead.”

  May our restaurant thrive and prosper.

  “Now it’s your turn,” Aunt Chan said.

  Alfie thought carefully before writing his wish. Finally, he wrote: May I a
lways travel and learn about other places.

  Once everyone had a wish written and tied to an orange, it was time to toss them onto the tree.

  “The goal is to hook it over a branch,” Ying explained. “Otherwise it’s—”

  “Bad luck?” Alfie guessed.

  Ying smiled. “Exactly.”

  With a gentle underhand toss, Alfie’s orange flew high up the side of the tree, missing branches as it went. He held his breath as it came back down and finally caught a branch. The orange swung for a moment before coming to a stop.

  “Perfect!” Ying said.

  Emilia was next. On her piece of paper she wrote, My wish is to always be brave enough to try new things. She threw hers overhand, and her orange easily wrapped around a branch high up the tree.

  “Nicely done!” Aunt Chan told her. “High branches are extra lucky.”

  Aunt Chan and Uncle Wu flung their oranges up and both caught branches. Now it was Ying’s turn.

  “Ying, did you write a good wish?” Uncle Wu asked.

  “Very good.”

  “Something for the family?”

  “Of course,” Ying said with a determined look in her eyes. “Watch this.” She turned her back to the tree and just as she tossed the orange backward over her head, her mother yelled, “Ying, no!” The orange sailed over Ying’s head toward the tree. It smacked a branch, jiggled several other oranges, and fell to the ground with a thunk.

  Aunt Chan gasped. Uncle Wu lowered his head. Ying said, “Whoops.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Aunt Chan said. “The bad luck just keeps coming.”

  “I wish you would take these things seriously,” Uncle Wu said to Ying.

  “I do,” she said. “I just thought—I don’t know . . .”

  “Exactly,” Uncle Wu said. “You didn’t think.”

  “It won’t hurt the restaurant,” she said. “It was a wish for myself.”

  “For yourself?” Aunt Chan said. “You’re supposed to be thinking about the family, and the family is the restaurant.”