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

Yu,” Hong Mei responded.
    “You in Hong Kong now. We use Cantonese. If you no speak Cantonese, you must use English.”
    “Thank you,” Hong Mei said. “Thank you for the advice.”
    Peering into the night at the other taxis, Hong Mei realized how unlikely it was that she would catch up to the Wongs. The bridge was huge and obviously very new. There were mostly red, green and blue taxis with a few other cars mixed in. How would she find the one vehicle carrying Alex and Ryan?
    She closed her eyes and started taking the same deep breaths she’d tried in front of the glass wall. Hong Mei focused only on the rise and fall of her breath, trying to lengthen each one into the next. The pain in her arm began to recede. The pleasant tingling of her scalp and neck returned.
    An image began to form in her mind. There were streets, narrow and crowded with people and vehicles. Above them flashed neon lights and blinking billboards of every colour, shape and size. Some ran up the sides of buildings, others blinked on and off in store windows. In the space above the sidewalk, higher than a double-decker bus, hung flashing neon signs in bright pink, yellow, red, blue, orange, green and white. Yes, if white could be whiter than white, it was when it was in neon, Hong Mei thought. She knew Nathan Road in Kowloon was famous for its neon lights. Were these streets of Kowloon that she was seeing in her head?
    She continued breathing slowly and evenly, letting the gorgeous vision take over.
    The leather smell of the inside of the taxi faded and was replaced with – sulphur? Yuck! Her body swayed and she imagined feeling a fine mist on her face. Light rain? The softness of the taxi seat disappeared and was replaced with a feeling of hard wooden slats. Was it a bench? She made out other people sitting around her.
    Ah! It was a boat – a passenger ferry.
    She saw signs written in both English and traditional Chinese. “Beware of Pickpockets” and “No Spitting.”
    She saw another sign. What did it say?
    Star Ferry Corporation.
    The Star Ferry! The boat that ferried people between Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. The Wongs must be headed towards the Star Ferry.
    She opened her eyes and sat forward.
    “The ferry terminal,” she said in English. “Take me to the Star Ferry.”
    The taxi driver looked into his rear-view mirror and said, “Okay. Which side you want? Kowloon or Hong Kong?”
    “I’m not sure.” Hong Mei’s eyes pricked and she bit her lip to stop it from quivering. “I only know I must go to the Star Ferry.”
    The driver frowned. “You only young girl. Why you alone? Where is your mother and father?”
    “Oh, they couldn’t come,” Hong Mei lied. “I am here to surprise my cousins.”
    “Well,” the driver said. “You lucky you not my daughter.”
    He gestured behind him to the seat pocket in front of Hong Mei. “You look at map. It show you Hong Kong Island, Kowloon, ferry and tunnel.”
    “There is a tunnel between Kowloon and Hong Kong?” Hong Mei asked as she opened the tourist map.
    “Three tunnel!” the driver said. “But you say you go to Star Ferry. You no need tunnel.”
    Okay, Hong Mei thought. I don’t need to use a tunnel, but I still have to figure out which Star Ferry terminal I should go to. She looked at the map and found the airport on Lantau Island. She ran her finger along the bridge they were just nearing the end of. It was connected to a smaller island and then the New Territories and Kowloon.
    She saw the snaking lines of tunnels on the map and the letters, mtr. That made sense. Madam Ching said it was easy to get around on the Mass Transit Railway, or mtr as everyone called the subway.
    Hong Mei looked above the area called The New Territories. To the north was the rest of China. And in the northern part of China was Beijing. She swallowed.
    She was a long way from home.
    Clearing her throat, Hong Mei said, “May I take this map?”
    The driver shrugged. “It is for tourists.