We Were There

February 5, 1965

The door opened with a squeak and presented a young man whose forehead was bleeding. He dropped a burnt cardboard on the floor then he closed the door behind him. The cardboard was scribbled with red paint. His white button-down shirt was soiled with dirt and bloodstains.

"You'll die early with that kind of life," I told him. It was not the first time he had heard that, but he nodded. I pressed the cigarette's glowing tip on the ashtray. He resigned his lanky body on the white mattress and joined me.

"Miss Lin, have you confirmed it?" he asked. His eyes fixed its gaze to the ceiling. I raised my head and looked at where he was facing. It was a boring view of lilac paint that was chipping off from its wooden surface. A faint yellow light from the tiny bulb exaggerated the shadows of his face. The smooth and plump texture of his cheeks showed his youth.

"Have you seen her carrying a red purse?" I took my red purse off the bedside table and showed it right at his face. He blinked twice and cleared his throat. I saw that his prominent Adam's apple moved. That meant, "I have." He didn't say that in words because he was just that kind of guy. The kind who didn't accept things the way they are.

"Younger girls don't carry that kind of purse eh?" He asked, his voice wavered. I placed the purse back to the table and sighed. "Younger girls wouldn't be able to afford it." He rolled to his side and faced me. His eyebrows dropped together with the creases of his forehead. The blood from his wound ceaselessly oozed out. Some of which slid down towards the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry that I brought you here. Mr. Lin would have brought Dandan and you somewhere better." He bowed his head low. From that angle, I saw his long lashes. This boy could have charmed me in my younger years.

"It's better this way."

He crawled towards me and stopped an inch before our bodies touch. His hand snatched away the cigarette from the ashtray. He tried to huff some smoke but ended up coughing. I took the stick away from his grasp and put it back on the tray.

"Do you think they spent New Year's Eve together?" he shot another question. I nodded in response. This left him to widen his eyes and chuckle. He shook his head and ran a hand on the wavy quiff of his hair.

"Do you think Mr. Lin forced Dandan?" He sat down beside me and leaned on the wooden headboard. I shook my head and mouthed 'No.' He let out a breathy smile that quickly faded away with a scowl.

"Why would she do this to me?" He croaked. Tears clogged his eyes and fell down towards his cheeks. I placed a hand on his head and patted it twice. "There, there." The gesture didn't seem to work. His tears multiplied and flooded down.

He was lucky that he got lots of tears to cry. I envied the fact that he could freely do that. For me, it was a waste of time. Maybe, because I was already too old or too cynical or perhaps too accepting.

"Please don't tell me, he's been a good husband too." He sniffed as he slid his body back down to a lying position. "If you don't count this then yes," I responded. It's stupid that he always demanded answers that would only hurt him. Then again, I was also stupid for considering the setup.

He shifted his position again and faced me. Before I could protest, he buried his face on my stomach. He soaked the fabric of my dress with his wet face. Probably stained it too with blood. I placed a hand on his scalp and combed his hair with my fingers.

"It can't be helped," I mumbled.

He raised his head and took my hand away. His face moved closer to mine, his dark irises shook and observed mine. "What do you want to do, Mrs. Lin?" He asked. I stayed silent and pushed him to make a bigger distance between us.

"Is it revenge?"

"No," I softly said. "Perhaps," I paused and thought about it. He tilted his head and waited for my next word. "I just want to understand it."

His right eyebrow raised. He parted his lips, ready to have said something, but stopped himself. "Do you think this will just pass?" He asked. I picked up the cigarette stick and licked my lips. "Maybe, you'll get a new girlfriend. Maybe, he and I will have a child we'll love," I said before I placed the stick between my lips.

"Or maybe, I'll die from a bomb attack and you'll die from lung cancer," he added. He took the stick away from my lips and threw it towards the metallic bin under the bedside table.

"Or what if?"

"What if?" I asked.

"We'll become like them," he whispered. His eyes averted mine. Laughter quickly erupted from my mouth. If there was anything more stupid than that, I'd be impressed. I slapped the mattress as I continued to wheeze.

"Chen, that's impossible." -