Free Colors of the Mountain by Da Chen Page A

irrelevant here. I could have lived on the island forever, just breathing the sea air.
    “Hey, it’s done,” Ar Piao declared. He handed me a pair of chopsticks and said, “
Chi ba.
” Dig in.
    When he opened the lid, the tantalizing aroma of cooked fish and ginger rushed out. The three mackerel looked succulent and tender. My stomach rumbled. “How do you eat it?”
    “You city folk care about manners and all that stuff. We don’t burden ourselves with any of that here in the middle of the ocean.” He picked up a fish with chopsticks and used his left hand to grab the head. Then, with the chopsticks wrapped tightly around each side of the neck, he slowly brought the wooden sticks down the length of the fish. Neatly filleted, the meat fell obediently down onto his plate. The head and spine were tossed into the sea. He grabbed a few chunks withhis chopsticks, dipped them in soy sauce, and ate heartily. I followed suit. The fish was heavenly with the taste of the sea; the tender white meat melted in my mouth. When I was done, I licked my fingers like Ar Piao and Monkey. Even though I was stuffed, I could have had more, they were so good.
    The next several days I spent playing with Monkey and his friends. They knew a game called Pirates, where, barefoot, they chased and threw one another on the beach sand. We told tales of our different towns. Some of the children even made necklaces out of big, colorful shells to give me as gifts. When it was finally time for me to leave, I said a sad good-bye to Monkey, his friends, and to the island. I wished I could have brought them home with me and let them be my friends forever.

“ YOU’VE BEEN HIDING , haven’t you?” said my enemy, Han, as he paced in front of our house with an angry face while I sat on the front porch. I had just returned from the island that morning.
    “It’s none of your business,” I answered angrily. I stood up and grabbed my chair. “Get off our property!” I was wistfully thinking about Monkey and his friends and Han was like a buzzing fly spoiling my meal. I wielded my chair threateningly.
    “Stop it!” Mom ran out to my side. “What is going on here?”
    “That son of a whore is bothering me.” I pointed at Han, who was flanked by his cronies, Quei and Wang. They had taken a step back at the sight of the chair.
    “Look who is here,” Han said in a mocking tone, referring to my mom.
    “It’s Mommy.” Wang’s ugly, fat face twisted jeeringly. The three of them laughed.
    “Get out of here!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. My heart raced and I felt myself losing control.
    “Stop it!” Mom said again, pulling the tail of my coat.
    They bullied me cockily, not expecting any retaliation. I had never fought back in the past. But school was over and these bad boys still wouldn’t leave me alone, even at home. What was I going to do? I wanted to smash their three, hideous faces into pieces. Ignoring Mom, I picked up the chair and threw it with all my might. It startled themand they turned to run, but the chair caught Han’s right foot. He screamed like a bitten dog running for cover as he limped away behind his friends. The chair was broken into pieces.
    To my surprise, Mom wasn’t angry with me, nor did she talk about it later. We picked up the bits of chair and closed our front door. Years later, Mom told me it was at that moment that they realized I was a strong boy who could stand on his own feet.
    Later in the evening, Han’s parents came to our house and loudly accused me of hurting their son and almost breaking his ankle.
    “He started the whole thing!” I cried bitterly. “Your son has made my life miserable in school. He hit me, cursed me, and set all his friends against me, but I had to help him with his homework. Go ask him how many times he made me let him copy my homework.” His parents were shocked at the outburst. I sobbed heavily.
    “But you shouldn’t have hit him with the chair,” Han’s father scolded.