Page 15 of The Girl with a Thousand Faces
“Chen Mei Chi,” she says, after a moment. “I think.”
“You think?”
“My memory is not working well. I woke up on the beach some miles away and walked here by myself. No family, no money. I remember some things, but very little.”
“Ah.” Li Fan nods around a mouthful of fish. “Sometimes people have injuries to their head which does this. More common in war. I am sure it will come back to you.”
“A man told me the Japanese took over months ago,” Mei Chi says, trying to shove away the memory of holding that man’s head underwater in a fit of fury. “Why is it still so bad here, in the city?”
“Occupation is different from war,” Li Fan says. “The soldiers control the city, but cannot feed it. Many people are starving, and the government is paralyzed. Everything is chaos. Has been for months, will be for years.”
Outside the shop, gunfire ricochets and a person screams. Mei Chi folds tight into a corner and doesn’t move again until the street is fully quiet. Li Fan does the same, pausing her chewing to huddle in perfect stillness.
When it is safe again, Mei Chi says, “What should I do while I wait for my memory to heal?” She thinks,What if my memory never heals?but doesn’t dare ask that, in case saying it aloud somehow makes it happen.
“Survive,” Li Fan says, bluntly. “That is all anybody is trying to do right now. Stay alive, think about today only. Cannot remember the past? Fine, never mind. You are not living in the past, you are living right now.” She points in the direction of the street. “The present out there is our danger. The past cannot kill you because it is done with.”
“But how?” Mei Chi says, desperate. “How do I survive when I do not know anything and the world is so dangerous?”
“There is Kowloon Walled City,” Li Fan says, with a sidelong glance. “All of Hong Kong is dangerous right now, but the Japanese will not go in there.”
“The Walled City?” Mei Chi echoes. She doesn’t know of the place, but then who can say what her memory has forgotten.
“It may have a bad reputation, but do not judge it too harshly,” Li Fan says, mistaking the reason for her question. “Kowloon is crowded and dirty, but so is the rest of Hong Kong right now. At least no one will shoot you just for walking around.” She sighs. “I am going there myself, if you want to come with me. I was already heading there but had to stop and eat.”
Mei Chi thinks about it. Why not, she has no better idea for where to go or what to do.
“Is it far?” she asks.
“Not at all. It is just a district like any other. Come, I will show you.” Li Fan gets up and leads her to a different window, pointing in the distance. “See that cluster of buildings? We walk toward it, then circle around to the left. A few blocks behind that, and just out of sight, is the Walled City.”
“How do we get through the wall that surrounds it?”
Li Fan beams. She is so friendly, so genuine despite the harshness of their surroundings. “There is not much wall these days, little miss. Not anymore. It used to be an old fort, but now it is just like a neighborhood.”
“I see.”
“The Japanese have been rebuilding the wall, to keep the ghosts inside, but it is early days, and at the moment there are more gaps than bricks,” Li Fan continues. “If you reach the edge of it, you can just stroll in and—”
A bullet careens through the window. The back of Li Fan’s head blossoms like a bouquet of squirming gray and pink roses, like a gift nobody ever wants, and lands all over Mei Chi’s arms and face. All she can smell is blood and brains.
Time cracks like a dropped egg.
Skips in her memory.
Men in green khakis with tall boots and long guns, all firing.
A soldier surges up and over the nearest rubble, and her fists move of their own accord.
Catch him.
Her knuckles slam into his eye socket and he sprawls flat from the force of it. She is strong, despite her size.
Hold him.
No. There’s no water, no time, too many. She savagely ignores the intrusive thoughts and runs, instead. Runs, and runs, and runs.
Mei Chi knows only fleeing and dodging for several streets. Out of the building, covered in red gore that isn’t hers. Open air feels exposed and unsafe. Back to alleys. Bare feet pounding, eyes dry. No crying, she’s too dehydratedfor tears. Glass and rubble underfoot, cutting her toes. Keep going. Her stupid brain thinking:I should have eaten that last jar of fish, after all.
