stop to it. But she’d never spent a day in school and was ignorant of grades and report cards. She only knew that as long as her sons were studying for free, they could go on with their education.
When the school withdrew Brother Kin’s scholarship, it was too late for remedy. Unable to afford the tuition, Mother took him out of school and sent him on a boat to Thailand . This was all right with Kin, for the pull of the ancestral current on him had always been strong.
If Father were alive, he would have taken his second son on his trading trips a long time ago. His associates would have remarked at the strong father-son resemblance, and Father would have been so proud. But Father was dead. The only person willing to teach Brother Kin the family tradition was Uncle Ben, Father’s youngest brother. He’d settled in Thailand and made a name for himself in the rice trade and shipping industry. For the next few years, my brother would serve as an apprentice in Uncle’s business in Thailand . I must say, from a selfish point of view, that the change in the course of Brother Kin’s life was for the best. By the time he became a seasoned entrepreneur, my education expenses had risen to a point where only a wealthy father could foot the bill. Brother Kin rose to fill that role.
My eldest brother, Yung, was the most brilliant of us all. Whipped by poverty and Mother’s duster, he excelled in his studies. He always ranked first—not just in his school, but in the whole colony. Prizes and awards were constantly heaped on him. Everyone said he was destined for the prestigious Hong Kong University . He could be a doctor, lawyer, or engineer; whatever he became, he was bound to be a leading star in our tight-knit community. Everyone said his future was limitless. Thus when he threw everything away to take on a clerical job, everyone was speechless. Brother Yung did for me what only a father would do. He sacrificed his future so that I could have one.
I was present at this exchange between my mother and brother, for in our tiny living space there was no room for secrets.
"Yung, you can’t go to university," Mother said. "There’s no other road—You have to get a job, or we’ll all starve. We can’t depend on our friends and relatives for every meal."
"What about your jewelry? Don’t you have some in your trunk?"
Mother seemed so tired that she could barely shake her head. "I’ve sold all my jewelry. I don’t have one gem left, not even one as small as a pea. I’m not joking. You cannot go to university."
"But you don’t have to pay a cent. The university has granted me a full scholarship, and a British merchant is giving me $800 a year for room and board."
"The money may be enough to feed you, but what about your little brother and sister? You expect them to eat wind?"
"Mother, you don’t understand! My score was the highest in the whole of Hong Kong . I can’t just give it up. Besides, it’s only four years. After I graduate, I can get a good job, and you’ll have nothing to worry about the rest of your life."
"In four years we’ll all be dead. Honestly, Yung, I’ve walked as far as I can to a dead end. There’s nowhere else to go."
There was a heavy silence. I looked from my mother to my brother. Mother’s face was calm, her voice too, which made her statements even more frightening than her frenzied outbursts. Brother Yung’s eyes were downcast. I could see he was unhappy, but I didn’t realize how unhappy until he looked up. His eyes were brimming with tears and his lips trembled when he said, "Whatever you say." Then the tears spilled over and my brother cried and cried until he could cry no more.
2
I have another brother, a half brother born of Father’s wife in Swatow . His name was Fei-Chi. He came to live with us for almost a year, and changed my life forever after. He was a frail, sweet-looking boy, sandwiched between Ngai and me in age. I was twelve, Fei-Chi eleven, and Ngai