Triad Tourists

Chapter 9

"You want juice?" I ask my brother.

"Orange."

"Orange is almost out, you wanna try Apple or Grape? Apple if your favorite."

"Orange is better than Apple to me." He says.

"Really?" I start to pour his Apple juice.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I wish I could see you fight that guy."

I put his breakfast down harder than I expected. He notices, and his face changes to a guilty one. "Sorry about that."

"Yeah, you better be. I'm aching for days." I grit. "We won't be going back to another tea party."

"I already promised Gui."

"Who the butt is Gui" I ask.

He points to his eye. "Gui Iman. Part blind, can't hear good, your friend's cousin or something?"

"Oh! I didn't know her name was Gui."

"She nice and she let me touch her face after the fight."

"Why?"

"She said she was scared she would loose her other eye, so she would close it and practice being blind. By the way, don't let that deaf thing fool you, she hears everything."

"Gui Iman?" I whisper. How you spell it?"

"G- way  Iman?" He questions. "I don't go around asking ppl how they spell their names. I can barely pronounce half the stuff you say in a day."

"Nia's last name is Iman?"

"They could have two different names." He taste his juice. "Ugh! This is Apple!"

"You're right, you should find the other juice yourself." I kiss his forehead. "Wish me a good day at work."

"I hope they cut your pay!" He smiles.

"I rebuke that." I cheerfully answer as I leave. "Go back to your apartment, I'll probably be gone forever."

When the 15 minute walk is done, I throw on a coat after signing in. In the halls, I see the only person I know who speaks English. A man called Xin. Even though I know Chinese, I'm not an expert, so he agreed to tail me at work.

"Hao, Xin!" I greet him.

"Hello, Tah-" he freezes, he often gets tongue tied by complicated English. "Lulai." He rolls his tongue too much.

"Tah- lu- lah." I correct him in a positive way.

He pronounces it right and hands me what I know is probably a days work. "No problems... easy stuffs."

"Xin, I can speak Mandarin." I sigh. "You're straining."

"I am to try." He pouts.

I giggle. "So cute." He wants to move to Africa to learn about their history. Xin is a pretty good script writer, but he can't publish his works out of fear. He's been so nice, he has my full support. I can't wait for him to get better every day, and experience will get him there.

After a few hours of working with people I get judgemental stares from, I finally start to whine down from the day.

As I'm washing my hands after a GREAT bathroom break, my mind translates something being yelled.

"Help! My grandpa!"

I, as well as others, run to their aid. "Whose injured?!" He caught me off guard, so I am nervous. "Zěnmeliǎo!"