Chook Chook by Wai Chim Page B

Jin would sign their papers.
    The butcher and his son were already there waiting for us. They were wearing matching white linen suits, although Bao’s looked about three sizes too big for him. Ma smiled shyly, holding tightly onto Guo’s arm. Jin broke into a wide grin, his good eye bugging out of its socket.
    I felt the queasiness in my stomach again. Ma was looking at Jin in the way I had only ever seen her gaze at Pa. A lump was forming in my throat but I shook my head. I really wanted Ma to be happy.
    I glanced over at Bao who caught my eye and flapped his long sleeves like a bird. That made me laugh.
    The village official shot us a warning look and we grew quiet. But when I looked at Bao again, he made a gagging face. We both giggled softly.
    The signing was over in a matter of minutes and we all went home to have an early dinner. Jin made a huge fuss over pouring Guo cups of tea. ‘It’s the tradition,’ Jin said, pushing Guo’s hand out of the way. ‘When you marry, you must pour tea to honour the man of her home.’
    Guo nodded and accepted his drink as Ma stood by the kitchen.
    â€˜It’s going to be so good having you and Bao living here,’ she said to her new husband. ‘It’ll be a fresh start, a good change.’
    â€˜Here, here,’ said Jin, holding up his glass. He and Guo clinked cups and smiled.
    I wrinkled my nose and pouted. I didn’t want anything to change.
    Not long after the wedding, Jin and Bao moved into the farmhouse. Bao and I shared the room that Ma and I used to sleep in, while Ma and Jin took the only other bedroom. Guo sectioned off part of the living room for his bed.
    The house felt very, very small.
    It was strange having a little brother, but I didn’t mind Bao being around. He was good with the animals. He was funny too. Sometimes, when we were feeding the chooks, Bao would tuck in his thin arms and puff out his cheeks, scratching at the ground like Little and Lo did.
    But there was one big problem.
    Bao snored. Very loudly.
    One night, I lay in my narrow bed with the pillow clamped over my ears. Bao’s snoring sounded like Lo’s crowing, only under water. I spent hours tossing and turning, trying to drown it out.
    Eventually, I snuck into the living room and climbed under the warm blankets on Guo’s bed. My brother opened his eyes in surprise. ‘Mei, what are you doing here?’
    â€˜Bao is snoring! He sounds like a drowning chook.’
    Guo shifted over and let me settle in beside him. I snuggled up and listened to the sound of his steady breathing.
    â€˜Why can’t things just go back to normal? The way they were before?’ I whispered in the dark.
    Guo said nothing and stroked my cheek. It made me yawn and I felt my eyelids grow heavy.
    â€˜You can’t sleep in the living room forever,’ Guo whispered.
    â€˜Neither can you,’ I said, just before I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of swimming chickens.
    Guo didn’t sleep in the living room for much longer at all. When the seasons changed and the year’s meagre crop had been harvested and sold at the market, Guo made a decision. He was going to university.
    Ma cried silently as she helped him pack a large suitcase full of books and clothes. She tucked a few packets of dried pork floss and beef jerky in with his socks.
    â€˜Ma, they have snacks in the city,’ Guo said.
    â€˜These are made by hand. The junk in the city, it’s all made in a factory.’ Her eyes shone with tears as she looked into my brother’s eyes. ‘I am very proud of you, son.’ She hugged him close.
    Guo opened his arms to me. ‘Come on, Mei. Give me a hug.’
    But I just crossed my arms and glared at him.
    Guo came over to ruffle my hair, but I jerked my head away and refused to look him in the eye.
    He gave up and went over to Jin. The butcher shook his hand. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after them, I