PROLOGUE

On a Friday afternoon, the sun shined brighter than it had all week. Birds soared past our classroom windows, the wind blowing past their feathers. I soaked in the warmth as I rested my left cheek on the back of my hand. I stared out the window daydreaming about things I could do during the weekend as my math teacher droned on about some kind of formula in the background. The tranquil ocean caught the sun’s rays and reflected them back up, glimmering. Speedboats skimmed through the surface making soft ripples in the waters. How I longed to wakeboard. Instead, the room felt like an icebox with the air condition screaming above my head. I looked up to find the clock staring back at me. Seconds couldn’t pass any slower than today. It felt like an hour has passed when the second hand had only made one revolution. My purple pencil weaved through my fingers aimlessly waiting for the bell to ring. The humidity had peeled the paint off the white walls imprisoning me. The weekend felt so close yet so far away. The thought of sleeping without my alarm waking me up and lounging around without an agenda for the day teased me. Five more minutes left of class… I fidgeted as I try to find something to do with my hands. Eventually, I stuffed all the worksheets into my backpack waiting for the bell to ring. I looked up and not even a minute has passed. The seconds dragged by as my legs shook up and down, as if shaking my legs would make time go by quicker. Finally, the school bell resonated through the empty halls and in seconds, students flooded the empty hallways.

The father told of how, as a boy, he looked forward to Chinese New Year because of the extra pocket money he got from the laisee packets. Every year his parents drove up the steep gravel road lined by neatly trimmed grass sculptures along the path that led up to his grandparents’ house. The father had his face right next to mahogany door ten times his height as he tried to use all his strength as a five year old to push open the door. When he entered, thirty of his other cousins already knelt down on the brightly colored woven carpet in front of his grandparents dressed in matching knitted sweaters. The grandparents sat on two yoke back chairs made from cypress looking down at their grandchildren. A ball of jade placed in between each arm of the chairs. The father did not understand why he had to kneel down to wish his elders Happy New Year. In movies, people knelt down because they did something wrong. The father did not do as told. He did not kneel before his grandparents because he thought he did nothing wrong. Instead of saying auspicious greetings to his elders, the father stood in the corner with his left shoulder resting on the pale white wall eyeing the living room. He noticed the intricate handcrafted flower engravings that formed the table. A marble mosaic decorated the center. Antique vases with white, blue and red detailing displayed on podiums. Calligraphy and paintings of women in traditional dress holding tilted floral sun umbrellas draped the walls of the dining room.

The British army named Repulse Bay after driving away pirates in the 19th century. Rolton and Michelle Mak bought block 18,15th floor of Repulse Bay Garden in 1999 and lived there for 15 years and counting. Located in the southern region of Hong Kong Island, Repulse Bay Garden built in 1952 previously accommodated royals and celebrities. Today, the complex houses 240 families. The first few days of the Chinese lunar calendar, the character 福, meaning “fortune” or “good luck,” hung upside down the front wooden door with intricate spirals detailing the border of the house. The homophonous Chinese words for “up-side down” and “to arrive” also correspond to the phrase “good luck arrives.”

Each time the doorbell rang, I rushed to the door guessing who stood out there as I turned the copper doorknob. A cluster of people congregated outside my door, each with presents or food in hand. A loud exchange of laughter and greetings echoed my home as they stepped inside. Within the crowd, I could see a gradient of red. My close family friends, whom I call aunts and uncles, all dressed in bright shades of red. When the kitchen door opened, a swarm of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ accompanied the plates as the maid gently set the plates on the dinning room table. Light reflected off of the smooth surface of the crab shells, uniformly aligned on the plate. The steamed crabs rested on a shallow pool of pale yellow ginger and white wine sauce. Diced ginger speckled the crabs’ shell. Uncle Sammy, whose round-framed glasses rested on the edge of his nose, crunched his way through a mountain of Chinese steamed crab with dexterity and speed. Auntie Carol’s curly hair bounced wildly as she stood up when the steamed fish came out. She pointed to the fish and explained how in Chinese, ‘fish’ sounds like ‘surplus.’ The classic Chinese steamed fish oozed with sweet and gently flavored aromatics topped with delicate thinly sliced ginger and spring onions and a drizzle of soy sauce. After the food cooked, everyone gathered around the dining table. When everyone had a drink in his or her right hand, a big Yum Bui! echoed over the dining table. I heard glasses clinking, resonating in the air, signaling the beginning of the meal, and smiled.

EPILOGUE I sat in the corner of my bed and peered out my window. The people on the beach looked minuscule. The beach, like a canvas, had splashes of color here and there from bright swimming suits. The white ripples of the waves washed onto shore. Cargo boats made their way slowly across the ocean while speedboats raced past, riding over the large waves from the cargo boats.
I saw clumps of people shuffling from one side of the beach to another. Along the winding roads, cars and buses wove. At the corner of my view, a garden looked out to the ocean, carpeted with thick, lush grass bordered with white French railings.
Boats moored out at sea, like a boat show. As I stared out the window, the gentle waves rolled onto shore. The waves washed up a curtain of sand then washed it down as the waves retracted.
The overwhelming thoughts of school slipped away and the C I got on my AP Biology test meant nothing, just a letter. The rhythmic waves helped me breathe. The waves pulled the sand back in the ocean. As I watched the waves surged back and forth, back and forth onto the shore.