Chinese Cinderella and the Secret Dragon Society (2 page)

1

The Boy Acrobats

It was a sunny afternoon in early spring when I set off after school to Big Aunt’s place for my daily English lesson. I was thinking of a kung fu novel I was reading about a warrior monk with an iron hand as I hopped off the tram near the Du Mei Gardens, opposite my aunt’s flat.

The sounds of a bamboo flute drifted on the air with the heady fragrance of lilac blossoms. I looked around to see three boys, wearing colourful satin costumes with matching caps of red, blue and green, rounding a rhododendron bush into the park. I knew Big Aunt would worry if I was late, but I couldn’t resist following them.

A large crowd was milling around the music pavilion and an elderly woman signalled to the boys to hurry. Soon they were twisting, jumping and performing somersaults, all under the direction
of the woman. The crowd gasped as one of the boys threw a bright red apple high into the air while his companion shot a dart from a sling and pierced it. I squeezed through the crowd. The boys were so lithe, strong and graceful; I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they leapt and danced and caught each other, their wavy dark hair flopping into their faces.

One of the taller boys lay down on a wooden bench. I could see his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. The shortest boy balanced a series of stools on his outstretched feet, one by one, higher and higher. Finally, the flute player climbed on to the highest stool. Nonchalantly, he began to play a tune I recognized as one that my father sang when he was in a good mood. As the music reached a crescendo, the boy lying down suddenly kicked his heavy load up into the air. Deftly, the woman caught the falling stools, while the flute player somersaulted back to the stage. He grinned and started to play a new tune.

The crowd burst into applause and I couldn’t help clapping too. The smallest boy now appeared on a unicycle, darting around the stage as his companions tied a thick rope between two high platforms. When the rope was taut the boy carried his unicycle to the top of a platform and balanced it carefully. I held my breath. Now he was riding
his unicycle across the rope suspended high above the ground, bobbing his head in time to the music. The flute player followed, playing his instrument, and then the tall boy sprang on to the rope, juggling coloured balls as he went. When the unicyclist climbed down from the platform he nodded at me and winked before putting on his glasses. I blushed because I knew he had seen me watching him with my mouth open!

The show continued with magic tricks – the boys making cards and coins disappear and then pulling them out of hats, shirts and pockets. They laughed and joked while the audience cheered and clapped. Then the flute player approached the audience with his cap, asking for contributions. When he came to me I was embarrassed. I looked down at my feet and muttered that I had no money.

‘Did you enjoy the performance?’ he asked, smiling.

‘Yes! Very, very much! This is the best show I’ve ever seen!’ I didn’t tell him that it was the
only
show I’d ever watched in my life.

‘Did you say that you have no money?’

‘That’s right! Not a single cent! I wish I had some to give you. Your show was great!’

‘But you
do
have money!’ he said. Then he pulled a coin out of my right ear, held it to the
light, inspected it, and dropped it into his hat. As the audience clapped, he pulled something else out of my other ear and held it to the sun. It was a business card.

‘Hello! Hello! What have we here?’ he exclaimed, as he waved the card in the air and pretended to examine it. ‘All sorts of hidden treasures are coming out of your head via your ears! Your mother must have forgotten to wash them this morning!’ He smiled and handed me the card. The audience roared.

‘Keep it!’ he said. ‘One never knows. You might need our help one day.’ Then he moved on.

I looked at the card, which read:

LONG XIA HUI

Dragon Society of Wandering Knights

Martial Arts Academy

Plaza in Du Mei Gardens

and

2200 Avenue Petain, Shanghai

We help the oppressed and downtrodden.

We show the Too (way) to those who are lost.

Martial Arts. Judo. Karate. Boxing. Kickboxing. Acrobatics.

Chinese Classics. Poetry. Calligraphy. Brush Painting. Music.

I read the card over and over, and put it in my pocket. What did it mean, Long Xia Hui (
),
Dragon Society of Wandering Knights? Who were these people? I crossed the road to Big Aunt’s apartment, fingering the card and wondering what it would be like to be a student at the Martial Arts Academy. I wanted to learn to do somersaults and walk across tightropes like the three boy acrobats. Would they teach me?

I was bursting with excitement when I rang Big Aunt’s bell, dying to tell her about the performance I had just seen. But she was not alone.

‘Where have you been? I was worried sick about you…’ she said, her gentle face looking strained.

‘Sorry! I was watching an acrobatic show in the park…’ I stopped when I saw there was a man in her sitting room. He was powerfully built and wore a black jacket with a mandarin collar.

‘Let me introduce you,’ Big Aunt said in her polite voice. ‘This is my niece, Ye Xian (
). And this is Master CY Wu
) who has just returned to Shanghai after visiting his family in Nan Tian. He and I are from the same island. We’ve been friends since kindergarten but he has been away in America. Master Wu tells me that my godmother Grandma Liu (
) broke her leg last week and is asking for me. I am taking the train to Nan Tian Island,
Nan Tian Dao
(
) first thing tomorrow morning.’

I smiled feebly at the stranger sitting on the couch and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. I was annoyed. Afternoons were supposed to be my time alone with Big Aunt. Every day after school, she and I would talk in English for half an hour. Then she’d show me different characters, which I had to translate into English. If I got them right, she would reward me with a sesame pancake or pork dumpling. Big Aunt was a fabulous cook, but obviously there wouldn’t be any lessons or treats today. In addition to that, she was leaving for Nan Tian in the morning and I knew I’d miss her terribly while she was away.

Master Wu looked like a professional athlete. The muscles of his upper arms bulged under his long-sleeved jacket. Every gesture he made suggested coordination, power and agility. He smiled at me.

Big Aunt could see that I was put out. ‘Master Wu is an expert in kung fu. I said I’d give him painting lessons and he will teach me self-defence.’ A warm look passed between them. I got up and muttered that I ought to be going.

‘Don’t go yet!’ Big Aunt said. ‘Master Wu’s English is actually better than mine. He moved to California with his uncle when he was eight and lived there for a long time before he came back to China. How about the three of us have a
conversation in English today? Will you begin, Master Wu?’

‘OK!’ Master Wu agreed amiably. ‘Since we are speaking English, I think your niece should first be given an English name.’