The Gaze of Caprice (The Caprice Trilogy Book 1) (22 page)

“
It’s not your fight, it’s my fight
,” said Mr. Cheung, “
And I’m calling it.  Save your energy.  You’re not done
.”  Xiaoyu looked over at the other boy. The boy wasn’t moving.  Xiaoyu rested his upper body weight on his arms, only then did he realize how tired his arms were.  Mr. Cheung pointed to two other boys, two that were still standing.  He told them to carry Xiaoyu’s opponent to the office on the other side of the facility.  He would need to call someone to come take a look at him. 
Hup
.  All the remaining boys formed what was left of their echelon.  They helped the boy with sunglasses, the one Xiaoyu sucker punched, onto his feet.  Xiaoyu helped himself.  Xiaoyu stood behind the other boys who stood in empty looking lines.  He wasn’t sure of his place in the formation, neither were the other boys.  The front of the first line was for the best in the group, the
de facto
leader.  The front of the second line was for the second best.  But Xiaoyu had beaten their leader, which made him leader almost by definition—almost.  Mr. Cheung had said it was his fight and it was.  He controlled the process.  The boys didn’t control anything.  They were just boys.  Mr. Cheung would say what would happen next; they were all waiting on Mr. Cheung.  But he didn’t come back, the other two boys did, with instructions. 
Wait
. 

The boys stood in their lines for a long time.  Xiaoyu waited behind them.  The boys took turns looking back at Xiaoyu.  Their looks were of obvious disapproval, even though they all understood their approval meant nothing.  The boys had never been forced to stand in formation for so long.  None had any idea what they would be told to do next.  One boy, the least patient or most xenophobic, finally spoke.

“
You cheated
,” he said turning back, looking at Xiaoyu.  Xiaoyu angled his head in the direction of the voice.

“
No I didn’t
,” said Xiaoyu.

“
You were supposed to fight Xu Dong, but you hit Wang Xi, you’re a cheater
,” said the boy.  The others felt the same but knew they weren’t supposed to speak.

“
You call me a cheater.  I call you blind and deaf
,” said Xiaoyu, “
I did fight Xu Dong, but you were too blind to notice.  Even now you’re too blind to see that’s why he’s not here
.”

“
But you hit Wang Xi, he was part of the gauntlet
,” said the boy.

“
So sad that you are also deaf, Mr. Cheung never said I couldn’t
,” said Xiaoyu.

The boy felt secure among the other boys in formation, but less secure in his argument about Xiaoyu cheating.  He didn’t say anything else.  Xiaoyu’s feeling of being among equals quickly faded.  Initially, Xiaoyu felt an instant kinship with the group, realizing they were all unwanted strays.  From his spine to his brain, crept a feeling that somehow these boys were backward.  The boys looked at rules as limitation, something Xiaoyu had never done.  The boys had an unspoken rule not to attack anyone forming the gauntlet.  Xiaoyu doubted anyone ever said that was a rule because they never said it to him.  Xiaoyu only remembered being told two rules:  one by Mr. Cheung—
beat him
and one by Uncle Woo—
don’t hold anything back
.  Xiaoyu saw a manifestation of something he had understood for a long time.  Rules were viruses.  Being infected by one meant it would multiply.  Somehow these boys had viewed their gauntlet as a limitation.  They didn’t fight outside the gauntlet and they didn’t attack anyone forming the gauntlet; their world was limited to space within the gauntlet.  They had created rules to give their world an atmosphere—an upper boundary.  Xiaoyu was the only to see how attention to their boundary got one of them knocked unconscious—Mr. Cheung saw.  The boys imposed rules on themselves in addition to the ones already given.  Xiaoyu thought this made them weak.  His only limitations—he felt—were
his
limitations.  Limitations—he thought—had to be tested because the space between rules and limitations could be vast. 

The facility went from relative silence, to being crowded with voices, adult voices.  There were three distinct men’s voices.  Mr. Cheung’s voice could be heard as well.  It was a good fifteen minutes before the men appeared in the hallway with blue doors.  The boys made sure their echelon was as perfect as they could manage. 

“
Which one is he
?” asked a tall stocky man.

“
He’s there in the back
,” said Mr. Cheung.

“
Call him over
,” said the stocky man.  Mr. Cheung looked directly at Xiaoyu and waved him over with the two fingers not burdened by the cigarillo.

“
He doesn’t look the part.  How did he put the other one down
?” said the stocky man, “
He’s nowhere near as athletic
.”

“
He does what the others don’t
,” said Mr. Cheung, “
He thinks
.”

The Triad family was always on the lookout for young people, not because they lived longer.  Hotheads were quick to get shot off.  Younger people were easier to come by.  A middle-aged man down on his luck, considered himself lucky not to be mixed up with Triads.  But young kids on the streets jumped at the chance to prove their toughness.  Ironically, that would be the same sentiment to get them killed.  The ones that lasted were the ones who stopped to think.  Uncle Woo had become the patriarch of the Moons by thinking before doing.   The three men spoke with Mr. Cheung for no more than two minutes, before they all stood still.  They had come to agreement.  Mr. Cheung called on the boy who was at the front of the second line.  He stepped forward. 
Hup
.  The other boys formed the gauntlet once again.  Xiaoyu stood still.  He looked directly at Mr. Cheung and shook his head.

“
I won’t fight him there
,” said Xiaoyu in Mandarin.  The three men understood Mandarin.

“
This is how we fight
,” said Mr. Cheung.

“
I just got here, I’m not one of you
,” said Xiaoyu.

“
You’re here, so you fight like us
,” said Mr. Cheung.

“
I’ll fight like you when it’s fair, but they’re going to try something
,” said Xiaoyu, “
Send them away then I’ll fight him
.”

The men looked at each other then at Mr. Cheung.  It was Mr. Cheung’s call.  Mr. Cheung wanted to show the men what Xiaoyu was capable of, he himself wanted to see it.  He wasn’t going to let an unwritten tradition defeat his purpose.  Mr. Cheung sent the other boys to the end of the hall and told them to hold their ranks there.  While the challenger was surveying the new set up and waiting for
Hup
, Xiaoyu rushed him by surprise tackling him to the floor.  The impact knocked the wind out of the boy and Xiaoyu took advantage.  Xiaoyu put his knee on the boy’s groin, raising his right hand high above his head.  Making a fist, Xiaoyu’s hand came crashing down on the boy’s face, he followed with two more similar blows before rising to his feet and stomping on the boy’s stomach causing him to upchuck.  Xiaoyu showed restraint.  After stomping on the boy, he left him. The three men winced at the aggression of one child against another.  Mr. Cheung barely moved, only his right hand came up to take the cigarillo from his mouth and let the smoke out.  Watching Xiaoyu best one opponent wasn’t enough to go on, so the three men requested another bout.  This time Mr. Cheung took a volunteer.  One shorter boy stepped forward.  The boy was familiar to Xiaoyu.  It was the xenophobe—the boy who called him a cheater.  Xiaoyu felt the breaths go in and out of his lungs easily and he felt someone standing beside him.   There was no one.  There was only an advantage and Xiaoyu could feel it exactly.  He knew the boy was holding a grudge, which took enormous energy.  The boy didn’t have enough spare energy to last long and Xiaoyu knew it.  The boy would try to end the fight quickly, stupidly.  The boy stepped forward confidently then took off at full-speed toward Xiaoyu.  Not observing the rules.  No waiting for
Hup
.  The boy meant to give Xiaoyu a taste of his own doing.  Xiaoyu noticed the boy’s top speed.  The boy was fast. He was closing the gap at an amazing rate of speed; still the air flowed easily in and out of Xiaoyu’s lungs.  When the boy was close—too close to stop—Xiaoyu took a half-step to the left and kept his right foot in place.  The boy missed Xiaoyu entirely, all but his right foot.  The boy’s feet stopped for a split second, hooking on Xiaoyu’s foot.  But his momentum kept going forward. He flew forward head first and came down on his stomach.  The boy’s immediate reaction was to roll over on his side to keep weight off the pain in his stomach.  Ironically, the same foot that caused the boy to land on his stomach, added to the pain.  Xiaoyu kicked the boy as hard as he could in the stomach causing the boy to curl into fetal position.  Xiaoyu took aim at whatever part of the boy was exposed, kicking him in the back, arms and head.  The boy—a xenophobe—had a noble character trait.  He spoke his mind.  He was the first to call Xiaoyu a cheater when all others were afraid to speak.  And he didn’t wait for Mr. Cheung or Xiaoyu to say when he had had enough.  He declared it himself. 
Stop, please, stop
.  Xiaoyu stopped.  Xiaoyu looked down on the boy and saw eyes that were red and tear-filled.  A wave of confusion rushed from Xiaoyu’s feet to his head.  He had never been tested in such a way before.  He had always been a worthy adversary, always.  The Triads were testing his prowess, but they could have done their homework.  There was a trail of kids in the Kuandian school system who knew how cold-blooded and calculating an eight year-old boy could be.  They had called him the Black Devil.  At five years-old, the emphasis was on
black
.  By the time Xiaoyu was eight, the emphasis was on
devil
. 

But the boy had begged him for mercy.  In those three words was a silent statement. 
I don’t think you’re a devil
.  No one would beg a devil for mercy.  No one would choose to fight a devil.  Xiaoyu began to see the crude bits of a large supposition.  He wasn’t the Black Devil.  He wasn’t a name called.  He wasn’t something other than.  He was like the rest, like the boy on the ground.  Although it was something he had never done, he assumed like creatures could ask each other for mercy.

Xiaoyu stuck out his hand instinctively.  The boy just looked at him and looked.  It had been several seconds before the boy grabbed Xiaoyu’s hand, but he grabbed firm and Xiaoyu heaved him to his feet.  Xiaoyu asked the boy his name and the boy looked bewildered. 
Liu Ping
.  He managed to say his name before retreating to the formation.  The three men whispered to each other then said something to Mr. Cheung.  The other two headed toward the other side of the facility; the stocky man took one last look at Xiaoyu and tapped Mr. Cheung on the shoulder before walking away.  Mr. Cheung pointed to Xiaoyu.  Xiaoyu walked toward Mr. Cheung, hearing the vibrations of the front door closing. 

“
My instructions are to keep you away from the others
,” said Mr. Cheung.  He waved his hand at the boys in formation, letting them know they could relax.  Mr. Cheung led Xiaoyu back toward the front of the facility.  Mr. Cheung unlocked the office door and went behind the desk.  The sun outside was too low to be seen, spilling yellow, orange and red as it set.  Mr. Cheung pulled a bottle of
Gordon’s Gin
from below the desk and looked at Xiaoyu giving him a look that said
catch
.  Mr. Cheung assured him it was for the burns on his hand and neck.  But there was only the gin, there was no apology.  Mr. Cheung opened a brown accordion file and pulled out a diagram of the facility.  Combing over the diagram he seemed satisfied.

“
Red No. 17 is free, in fact I don’t think we’ve ever used it.  Sleep there tonight.  You’ll be on the opposite side of the building from the others
,” said Mr. Cheung, “
They know not to leave the blue area and I’ll remind them before I go
.”  Mr. Cheung turned to a sliding cabinet behind him and pulled out two heavy utility blankets.  He reached in the door and pulled out an unused brass key.

“
These are for your sleeping, you use this key to get into this office to use the bathroom.  The others have their own.  You don’t touch anything.  When you’re done you leave and the door locks.  Keep the key until I take it back
.”

Mr. Cheung led Xiaoyu out of the office.  Xiaoyu looked like an irregular recruit—not quite nine years old—following a grown man while holding blankets, a key and a bottle of gin.  Mr. Cheung took Xiaoyu to the storage unit with the red door labeled
17
.  Mr. Cheung opened the door and handed Xiaoyu the key—silver key.

“
You stay in the red area only.  You won’t get any food till the morning so my advice is you go to sleep early.  If you need water, you get it from the faucet in the office bathroom.  When I leave, the front door will be locked so you’ll be stuck in here till we come back in the morning.  You stay in the red area and away from the others.  How many keys do you have
?”