Free Year of the Golden Dragon by B.L. Sauder

her. She couldn’t imagine asking anyone for help.
    Turning back to the glass she looked out at the night. Madam Ching had told her to use the Chen clan’s legendary skills. For anyone in the know those were, of course, gong fu and their inherited second sight. This, she realized, was why her father had trained her so hard. Had he known that she would feel so scared and alone? Why hadn’t he warned her? She guessed he had and that was why they took him away. He’d been so worried he seemed crazy.
    It had been a long time since she’d practiced, but she now concentrated on the special breathing Baba had shown her. Filling her lungs and stomach completely, she slowly contracted her torso, pushing all the air out. She imagined her mind clearing of all thoughts, making way for new images. Hong Mei closed her eyes and began to focus. The roots of her hair started to tingle and she felt the faint tickle on her neck. It was working! Shapes began to form in her mind’s eye, but the vision was still unclear.
    Inside her head, she saw streams of coloured lights rushing past. Vehicles honked and there was the smell of diesel and automobile exhaust. Were the Wongs in a car?
    Yes. As usual. She saw more clearly as the vision unfolded. There were lights on the dashboard of a car. Then, she made out the image of a silk-tasselled lucky charm hanging from the driver’s mirror. She heard the excited chatter of several people talking at once. Was it English? No, Chinglish – a combination of Chinese and English. Someone was trying to speak Cantonese. There was laughter. She saw a hand reach over and turn the knob on the radio. Canto-pop music drowned out the passengers’ voices.
    Next she saw blackness. Was it sky? Tall steel beams stretched high into the inky night and enormous steel cables draped from one towering post to another. Lights of other vehicles flashed and buzzed past intermittently.
    Was it a bridge? Yes, that was it! The Wong family was on the suspension bridge she’d seen pictures of. The bridge linked the island where the airport was and the mainland.
    Her eyes flew open. She’d try to catch up to them on that bridge. But what if she couldn’t, then what?
    Frantically looking around, she saw symbols for taxis, buses, ferries and the underground train. She’d only taken buses and trains, and those were between her village and Beijing. The Wongs were in a car. She’d never catch them by riding a bus or train. What should she do to get to the bridge where they were?
    Hong Mei took a breath and made herself stop panicking. In a second she decided that it would be better to take a taxi and follow the same route they had taken. Her mind made up, Hong Mei raced in the direction of the taxi sign. It wouldn’t take the family long to cross the bridge. Could she catch them before they got to the other side?
    When she got to the taxi rank, she groaned at the long line of people. This was obviously no time to be polite, though. Throwing her shoulders back, she began nudging and bumping her way between people while trying not to let anything touch her burned arm. At the front of the line was a young couple holding hands.
    What was she going to do? She couldn’t just leap in front of them and steal their taxi.
    It was time for some help from Mama’s teachings. She mumbled a quick spell of love over the couple and they immediately began to kiss and grope one another. As the crowd of Chinese stared in disapproval, Hong Mei used the diversion to slip into their taxi.
    “Where to?” the driver barked at her in Cantonese, frowning into his rear-view mirror.
    She didn’t understand him, but guessed. “The bridge,” she said in Mandarin. “Please. Go fast. It is important. Very important!”
    He snorted, but began driving. “Of course bridge . Everyone must take bridge,” he said, eyes darting at her reflection. “You look Chinese. Why you no speak Chinese?” he asked in English.
    “Wo shuo Jungwen ba! Wo huei shuo Hua