I support Jin Ling’s weak steps with my good arm, taking her all the way to the Old South Gate. Just like before. Only this time her blood isn’t on my shirt, and I don’t have to run. I’ve got all the time in the world.
Mei Yee walks on my other side, by my wounded shoulder. It throbs whenever she presses too close, but I ignore it. Some things are worth the hurt.
The rest of the girls trail behind her—an exodus of wide eyes and shiny dresses. I can only imagine the look on my father’s face when I knock on the door of 55 Tai Ping Hill this time. I’m guessing he’ll have something to say and I’ll have something to say back. We’ll seesaw the way we always do, and in the end, the girls will stay. All twenty of them.
Of course, it’s not a permanent solution. But right now I’m not thinking much further than the next twenty-four hours: a visit between Dr. Kwan and my shoulder, a good dose of pain meds, a hot meal, and a firm mattress.
And after that…
I don’t know, but I have a feeling it’s all going to work itself out.
An extra silhouette has joined us, bobbing tailless over rubbish heaps and door stoops. When the shadows run out, he trots close to my ankles, yowling louder than any cat should.
“Don’t worry.” I look down at Chma when our strange procession reaches the rusted cannons. He leaps up on top of one of the ancient artifacts, piercing me with his yellow headlight eyes. “We won’t leave you behind.”
The streets of Seng Ngoi are alive, pouring over with parades and happy drunks. Everything is bright gold and vibrant poppy-petal red. There are lanterns and sweet cakes and children dancing with new shoes, delighted to be up past their bedtime. One old man walks past, offers me a swig from his bottle of rice liquor. I shake my head, but he smiles anyway, showing his absence of teeth.
“Happy Year of the Snake!” He takes a swig of his own and teeters off into the festivities.
It’s too much for Mei Yee. I can tell by the stun on her face. She’s staring at the flare and color of the street, fingers half covering her eyes to shield them from the brightness. The sky is no longer black, but streaked with every color. Fireworks thunder and sparkle above us, showering the streets of Seng Ngoi like magical rain. We stand and watch them, even Chma.
“They’re beautiful,” I hear Mei Yee whisper, even though each boom of color makes her jump like a nervous rabbit. “This whole place is so beautiful. A city of lights.”
“In a few days I’ll take you to see the sea,” I promise.
The colors of the evening’s celebration flash over her face. She smiles and looks over at me. Sees me. My heart is full and burning—brighter than this night. “I’d like that.”
I look down and realize that despite all the noise and chaos around us, Jin Ling has fallen asleep. She’s leaning into me—every ounce of her featherweight—her face smudged and shameless against my hoodie. Reminds me of how tired I am. How tired all of us are.
I look at Chma and my two girls. I take in the fires of the sky. Fresh colors to mark a new year. A new day—day one of the rest of my life.
Our lives.