said.
“She’s the daughter of Mr. Huang, the PE teacher. She’s got a pair of real roving eyes,” Sen said, still giggling.
“She looks at you?” I asked.
“The thing is, she always looks at our house when she passes by. The other day, she smiled a little at me,” Sen said.
“And he almost fainted.” Mo Gong laughed.
“Women. They can’t make up their minds. I know a real lady from my days at my master’s home…” It was Yi again, starting in on one of his old stories. We already knew what he was talking about; he had told us many times. The amazing thing about him was that he could tell the same story over and over and tell it exactly the same as the first time. The phrasing, pauses, and expression never changed.
We kicked the stones on the ground, broke the twigs that got in our way, and headed for the alma mater of my four friends, where they hadn’t exactly excelled.
Sen was excited and nervous. He kept on smoking. We joked about his hair, which stood straight up. I scooped a handful of water from a nearby pond and sprinkled it on his head. He slapped my hands away,but happily finger-combed his hair, then peered at his own reflection in the pond.
“Not a bad looking dude at all,” Sen said.
We all burst into raucous laughter.
When we leaned against the wall of the middle school, gazing from a distance at the dorm room of PE Teacher Huang, we saw a slender girl in her late teens come out carrying a bucket of water. She was a pretty thing, with beautiful eyes and shiny black hair that hung down to her hips. Her dress was printed with a simple design of little flowers. She reminded me of her good-looking father, who was once the champion javelin thrower in our province.
As she bent over to dump the bucket, she glanced in our direction and hesitated upon seeing five dark heads peeping over the wall. We ducked down, embarrassed. Slowly, she swung her slender body around and walked elegantly back into the dorm. We stayed there for a long time, our hearts beating fast, then quietly headed back.
“What do you think?” Sen asked, uncertain of our verdict.
“I didn’t have any respect for your judgment of females until this moment,” I said.
Sen slapped me on the shoulder. “Did you see that? I think she sensed I was there, that’s why she stopped and looked.”
“I think she just smelled your dirty hair, that’s all,” Siang joked.
On our way home, Sen did all the talking, excited as if he had just received a shot of adrenaline. “She’s a real pretty girl, and what a body! And that silky hair! If only I could touch it someday. Boy, I wouldn’t mind calling Teacher Huang ‘Dad’ for the rest of my life.”
“Maybe you should go back to school to be near her,” I suggested.
“That’s a good idea,” Siang said.
“And attend only Teacher Huang’s class,” Yi added. “If he likes you enough, so will the daughter.”
Laughter again. The encounter had made us all feel good. The sunset seemed especially warm that day.
WHEN THE WEATHER turned milder and the migrating geese honked noisily in the sky as they headed for the South China Sea to feed onyoung fish, we agreed to meet at the Dong Jing harbor in the evenings. The Dong Jing was a large river, along which boatmen shipped lumber downstream from the mountains. They rowed upriver carrying rice, salt, and fabric from the rich delta and plains. Each night at least ten flat-bottomed boats with woven bamboo coverings were moored there, patiently waiting to depart the next day after their owners had gone to town to get drunk and have a peaceful sleep before the week-long trip.
One moonlit night we found ourselves standing at the quiet harbor. Yi was an expert in the art of untying boats. He did something quick with his rough, callused hands, and the thick knots easily unwound. We all jumped in and pushed the boat away from the shore with its two long bamboo poles.
It was so quiet and serene. I sat at the head of the boat
“She’s the daughter of Mr. Huang, the PE teacher. She’s got a pair of real roving eyes,” Sen said, still giggling.
“She looks at you?” I asked.
“The thing is, she always looks at our house when she passes by. The other day, she smiled a little at me,” Sen said.
“And he almost fainted.” Mo Gong laughed.
“Women. They can’t make up their minds. I know a real lady from my days at my master’s home…” It was Yi again, starting in on one of his old stories. We already knew what he was talking about; he had told us many times. The amazing thing about him was that he could tell the same story over and over and tell it exactly the same as the first time. The phrasing, pauses, and expression never changed.
We kicked the stones on the ground, broke the twigs that got in our way, and headed for the alma mater of my four friends, where they hadn’t exactly excelled.
Sen was excited and nervous. He kept on smoking. We joked about his hair, which stood straight up. I scooped a handful of water from a nearby pond and sprinkled it on his head. He slapped my hands away,but happily finger-combed his hair, then peered at his own reflection in the pond.
“Not a bad looking dude at all,” Sen said.
We all burst into raucous laughter.
When we leaned against the wall of the middle school, gazing from a distance at the dorm room of PE Teacher Huang, we saw a slender girl in her late teens come out carrying a bucket of water. She was a pretty thing, with beautiful eyes and shiny black hair that hung down to her hips. Her dress was printed with a simple design of little flowers. She reminded me of her good-looking father, who was once the champion javelin thrower in our province.
As she bent over to dump the bucket, she glanced in our direction and hesitated upon seeing five dark heads peeping over the wall. We ducked down, embarrassed. Slowly, she swung her slender body around and walked elegantly back into the dorm. We stayed there for a long time, our hearts beating fast, then quietly headed back.
“What do you think?” Sen asked, uncertain of our verdict.
“I didn’t have any respect for your judgment of females until this moment,” I said.
Sen slapped me on the shoulder. “Did you see that? I think she sensed I was there, that’s why she stopped and looked.”
“I think she just smelled your dirty hair, that’s all,” Siang joked.
On our way home, Sen did all the talking, excited as if he had just received a shot of adrenaline. “She’s a real pretty girl, and what a body! And that silky hair! If only I could touch it someday. Boy, I wouldn’t mind calling Teacher Huang ‘Dad’ for the rest of my life.”
“Maybe you should go back to school to be near her,” I suggested.
“That’s a good idea,” Siang said.
“And attend only Teacher Huang’s class,” Yi added. “If he likes you enough, so will the daughter.”
Laughter again. The encounter had made us all feel good. The sunset seemed especially warm that day.
WHEN THE WEATHER turned milder and the migrating geese honked noisily in the sky as they headed for the South China Sea to feed onyoung fish, we agreed to meet at the Dong Jing harbor in the evenings. The Dong Jing was a large river, along which boatmen shipped lumber downstream from the mountains. They rowed upriver carrying rice, salt, and fabric from the rich delta and plains. Each night at least ten flat-bottomed boats with woven bamboo coverings were moored there, patiently waiting to depart the next day after their owners had gone to town to get drunk and have a peaceful sleep before the week-long trip.
One moonlit night we found ourselves standing at the quiet harbor. Yi was an expert in the art of untying boats. He did something quick with his rough, callused hands, and the thick knots easily unwound. We all jumped in and pushed the boat away from the shore with its two long bamboo poles.
It was so quiet and serene. I sat at the head of the boat
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