The Gaze of Caprice (The Caprice Trilogy Book 1) (27 page)

              The night before his match Xiaoyu could only remember his instructions from Master Song. 
Get enough sleep
. 
Wake up early and stretch
. 
Run around for twenty minutes
. 
Then stretch again
.  He woke up earlier than he should have.  He knew it was too early without even looking at the clock.  He thought of turning the lights on to remind himself of the real world but he was too comfortable in the dark.  The problem was his anxiety.  It could overwhelm his pitch black reality.  With the lights on, he would be forced to look at neatly-stacked cardboard boxes.  With the lights off, anxiety came to life.  It was a ten-meter monster that could climb.  It climbed around the shelves of the warehouse and thinned out its body as it slithered through the boxes sitting on shelves.  It must have been feeding on the darkness because the monster grew rapidly.  Before long the monster was large enough to occupy half the warehouse.  Xiaoyu’s heart raced.  His breathing was deep but rapid.  He thought about going for the light switch but assumed the monster would beat him to it.  He stayed on his cot, blanketed by agitation.  Eventually, the rapid breaths and speeding heart became enough to tire out an already tired boy and he was able to sleep again.  So deep was his sleep that the incredible monster died, caught in a trap somewhere in the depths of his subconscious.

              Xiaoyu woke up feeling strong and victorious.  He wasn’t sure why.  He had no memory of the large monster that occupied the warehouse hours before.  He wrapped his hands and stretched.  As he stretched, he would have welcomed company—man or monster.  He sat comfortably in a full split, leaning first to the right then to the left.  He stood at attention with his body straight and raised his right hand in the air.  Remaining mostly still he kicked his right palm with his right leg.  He then tried the left side and repeated.  He ran around the warehouse forty times.  He knew it took him about thirty seconds to do one lap around the warehouse.  Without a timer, he told himself forty times around would be twenty minutes.  He maintained a steady heart rate and took a small break after finishing his laps.  Then he continued stretching.  Master Song entered the warehouse an hour later than he would have on a normal training day.  He brought Xiaoyu breakfast of a fried egg over rice—strong protein with vitamins over weak protein with carbohydrates.  

              “
How did you sleep
?” asked Master Song.

              “
Good
,” said Xiaoyu.

              “
How do you feel
?” asked Master Song.

              “
Good
,” said Xiaoyu.

              “
Did you stretch
?” asked Master Song.

              “
I stretched, ran, then stretched
,” said Xiaoyu.

              “
Good.  Did you do any work with the dummy
?” asked Master Song.  Xiaoyu’s brow narrowed and he looked confused.

              “
You didn’t say
,” said Xiaoyu.

              “
I know.  I didn’t want you to do any work with the dummy, that’s why I didn’t say
,” said Master Song, “
I said before it is good to imagine your opponents.  That’s what the dummy is for.  But you must also clear your thoughts of your opponent so you can face him.  Today you’re going to hit, but it won’t be this.  It’ll be a real opponent who is going to hit back.  Now is not the time for imagining things.  Now is the time for letting all things go.  When you meet him you will see him, then you will know
.”  The explanation seemed to satisfy Xiaoyu.  He finished what was left of his breakfast and made his bed.  On a non-training day, Xiaoyu had no clue what else he should do.  Master Song did some combinations on the wood dummy for Xiaoyu’s benefit or his own.  Never before had he seemed so playful in front of Xiaoyu.  He kicked the dummy in no particular fashion and jumped up and down howling.

              “
Don’t I look like Bruce Lee
?” asked Master Song.

              “
Of course not
,” said Xiaoyu, “
Bruce Lee looks way better than you
.”  Master Song looked at Xiaoyu and laughed.  Master Song had achieved his goal—a light-hearted moment with his pupil.  It was his way of saying he was proud of Xiaoyu.  Xiaoyu understood the same.  A serious mood returned to the warehouse quickly.  Master Song looked at his watch then looked at Xiaoyu.  Xiaoyu could read Master Song’s face; it was time to go.  Xiaoyu followed Master Song out of the warehouse the same way he had entered with the stocky man eight months before.  It was a sunlit day, his first in over eight months.  A 1982 gray
Volkswagen Rabbit
was parked in front of the bay doors of the warehouse.  Xiaoyu knew Master Song came and went by bus on their usual training days.  He had come by car—the day was special.  Xiaoyu instinctively went for the back seat.  Master Song told him his place was in the front.  Before starting the engine, Master Song reached toward the back seat and grabbed a plastic bag that he let rest in Xiaoyu’s lap.  Xiaoyu reached in the bag to feel the polished skin.  He dragged his finger over the surface of a wet fabric.  Pulling the fabric out, it was revealed to be a black silk
wushu
shirt. Master Song told Xiaoyu it should fit.  Both knew the only way to be sure was for Xiaoyu to try it on.   Also in the bag, was a black rubber mouthpiece.  Xiaoyu enjoyed the esteem of the ride.  The car was nothing special, but the feeling made up the difference.  The silk shirt was comfortable and it was the first time since arriving in Hong Kong that he was allowed a front seat view.  The city looked different from the front seat—more knowable, less like a stranger.  He felt like a passenger and not like a package, the difference of going for a ride or being transported.  Master Song opened the glove compartment and removed a black cassette tape.  He put his little finger into the reel hole of the tape to tighten the ribbon then pushed the cassette into the tape deck.  A few static moments later Dire Straits’
Walk of Life
sounded in the car.  Xiaoyu had never heard the song before; it made him feel like a ten year-old boy—for the first time.  A Jade Soldier candidate, but he was still at the age of discovery.  They took the CHT Tunnel crossing over to Kowloon and into Flying Dragon territory.   They spent little time on Gascoigne Road before pulling onto the streets of Yau Ma Tei.  Two left turns later, Master Song pulled up to the entrance of an underground garage.  The garage was for extended stay guests visiting family at the hospital across the street.  The Flyers limited access to the fifth and sixth sublevels.   Level five had its own private entrance.  Instead of a yellow arm like the outside entrance, it had a sliding iron gate born and bred to keep others out.  A flat polished metal console was sticking out of the cement floor in front of the iron gate.  Master Song stopped his car in front of the console.  On the console were three stainless steel push buttons—top, bottom, middle.  Master Song reached in his pocket for a torn piece of brown paper bag.  He studied the piece of paper for a few seconds then pushed the buttons in sequence.  After pushing the buttons Master Song waited. 
Nothing
.  Master Song studied the piece of paper more carefully, realizing some of the buttons had to be pressed at the same time.  Satisfied, the gate began to move. 

              Master Song pulled passed a row of white utilities vans and parked his car in Spot 24.   Opening the driver side door Master Song looked around, thinking the space should be more crowded.  Looking back at Xiaoyu, his eyes told the boy the two of them would have to explore to find where they should be.  Xiaoyu got out of the car and walked around to Master Song’s side. 

              “
Someone should meet us here
,” said Master Song.

              “
Why don’t we keep going
?” asked Xiaoyu.

              “
I was told to park in Spot 24.  That someone would be here for us
,” said Master Song.

              “
Do we wait here
?” asked Xiaoyu.

              “
That’s what I’m wondering
,” said Master Song.

              The sound of a popped lock undid their conversation.  The door to a white utility van swung open behind them.  The noise attracted Master Song’s attention first.  Master Song turned to see a familiar face stepping out of the van.  The man was burly, a statue of brute strength.  He was tall in an unaccommodating way.  His body seemed to expand in all directions.  Despite his size, Xiaoyu’s mind stayed clear as he approached.  Master Song took a step forward and shook the man’s hand.  The men exchanged greetings before the large man lead Master Song and Xiaoyu further into the garage and around a concrete partition separating part of the garage.  Xiaoyu became confident they were in the right place because of the black
Mercedes
cars that occupied a majority of the parking spots.  Some of the cars were occupied, some were not.  Men formed huddles billowing smoke.  Everyone had tobacco in some form; almost everyone had it lit.  When Master Song and Xiaoyu entered the crowded area the attention was immediate.  More people began to climb out of their cars.  A few faces were familiar to Xiaoyu, the stocky man and the thin man were there, along with Mr. Cheung and his chubby driver.  One other recognizable face was there—Uncle Woo, the Dragon Head.   It was the first time Xiaoyu had seen him standing.  He wasn’t tall but taller than he looked while seated.  Xiaoyu scanned the faces on his left and his right for one face in particular, Li Xing, his uncle.  Li Xing’s face was not in the crowd.  Xiaoyu wasn’t sure if he was one of the few still waiting in the car.  Deni Tam was also missing.  Xiaoyu imagined him coming fashionably and ceremoniously late.  Deni struck him as a man who stood on ceremony.  Judging by the amount of effort, this was a ceremony.

              Xiaoyu didn’t feel any different from the gathering of
Mercedes
men.  The contrast was welcomed.  He spent the prior eight months in a jade solitary confinement.  His only human interaction was with Master Song.  The assembly was surprisingly reassuring, a welcome party at the gate of the world.  Xiaoyu understood he would have to fight for a place in it.  He stuck by Master Song’s side as if they would both have to fight—they would.  Xiaoyu had already been selected; he was protected by the
Mark
.  The eight dragons stood at careful watch over their newly anointed.  Only he could wear the
Mark
for the Moons.  So long as he lived, the
Mark
protected him.  Master Song walked into the crowd without the same protection.  If his pupil lost his opening fight, there would be serious questions about his ability to train the candidate.  Although Xiaoyu couldn’t be replaced, his master could.  Though Xiaoyu would fight, Master Song’s name was on the match. 

              “
Why don’t we get warmed up
?” said Master Song.  Xiaoyu assented by taking off his black silk top.  The sleeves of silk had covered his arms, but when he took them off he began to draw looks like he had never seen.  Xiaoyu wasn’t a stranger to unwelcomed eyes.  He got stares a lot and had grown accustomed to them.  In Kuandian he was the
Heigui
.  Leaving Kuandian meant it had been a long time since he had been called Black Devil.  But he heard the name constantly.
Heigui
was his name for himself in his own mind.  The looks took Xiaoyu by surprise because they were different looks.  They weren’t looking at his skin; they were looking at his scales.  He was a different sort of creature.  They could care less about
Heigui
; they cared everything about the
Mark.
  A meditative silence came over the crowd.  The stakes were raised and clear.  The Flyers became increasingly disinterested in the match.  They began to feel like they had been set up.  The Moons were uncertain about how they should react. They all looked at Uncle Woo and he didn’t bat an eye. They hadn’t enlisted a Jade Soldier candidate since Uncle Woo became Dragon Head.  And Uncle Woo didn’t rise the ranks of the Moons without reason.  He knew to test Xiaoyu he would have to fight him against the best boy from another branch.  The Flyers wouldn’t have sent their best to fight a would-be Jade Soldier.  To be the best brawler out of boys taken in from the streets was one thing, to be a Jade Soldier was a different thing entirely. 

              Master Song led Xiaoyu through a series of warm-up drills.  The silence was so complete it was as if they were still in the warehouse.  The Flyers and the Moons were impressed at how accurately the boy could kick his master’s hands.  The boy could stretch his legs fully and hit his target while maintaining balance enough to immediately switch legs.  So exact was the boy’s technique it appeared less like a warm-up session, more like a how-to session.  The Flyers were confused about their next move.  Xiaoyu showed no shyness in warming up in front of a crowd of strangers.  He moved smoothly as if no one was watching at all.  To save face, the Flyers decided they should keep their end of the agreement and debut their champion.  A signaling nod was given to a broad shouldered man, who went to the back of his
Mercedes
and opened the door.  A lean dark-skinned boy stepped out of the car.  Observers thought he was tall for his age, without knowing his age.  He might have been a good-looking boy but for the many scars on his face and arms.  He looked as if many of his meals were stolen and many of his companions gone.  The boy’s life had been a harsh and lonely one.  From far away it was clear that he had a size advantage on the would-be Jade Soldier.  His arms and legs were longer.