《The Account of the Golden Bamboo》Prologue (6)
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On the wall hung a gigantic board, which was, by Tar’s conservative estimation, a meter tall and three meters long. The words “Loyalty to Eustacia” was carved onto it. Seeing the strong and confident strokes of those words, the image of an expert calligrapher flexing every muscle of his body to commit his art to the board while gliding his whole body across popped up in his mind. “What a passionate calligraphy,” he thought. “Whoever wrote this must feel strongly about Eustacia.”
“That’s Bern’s gift to our son. Quite the spectacle, isn’t it?” Ev said proudly, yet there seemed to be a hint of sadness in her tone of voice. “There’s your meal, you must be starving.”
Ev put down a bowl of rice onto the table followed by a dish of tofu, garnished with thinly chopped spring onions.
Tar had always had extravagant and expensive food. Despite the fact that livestock farming was much less popular here in Eustacia than in Tzapp due to climate and geographical constraints, every meal of his contained some type of meat. And even though Eustacians were prohibited from eating seafood after the Tzappian’s occupation, his father would make use of his connections to get some for Tar. It was unthinkable to have such bland food put in front of him.
“I’m not that hungry,” he told Ev.
“Come on, just eat some.”
“No, I’m really fine.”
“You’re sure? Alright, I shouldn’t force you to eat. I guess I’ll just throw it out then.”
Not wanting Ev’s effort to be wasted, Tar finally responded, “Fine. I’ll eat a bit.”
“Just as I thought, it’s bland,” he murmured to himself. “Papa wouldn’t make this for me if he was here.” Bern and Ev did not seem to have heard what he just said.
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“If Papa was here, I would be eating more than just tofu. There would be mutton! And roast chicken! And seafood soup!” He complained inwardly.
Back at the mansion, after his father told him to hide in the wardrobe and stay silent, Tar witnessed his father’s death in that claustrophobic space. At that time, he assumed it was only a game. Perhaps he knew his father died the moment his lifeless body hit the floor, or maybe it was the moment right after his father apologised to him through the wardrobe door, but Tar was simply in denial. All Tar remembered after realising his father would never come back, was him running, running, and running. There was not a single moment for him to think clearly from that point onward, but now in this tranquil room, greeted by warm food, he was finally provided the opportunity. And the situation finally dawned on him.
“I want prawns! I want clams with ginger! I want… I want…” He pleaded. “I want Papa back.”
With watery eyes, he stayed in silence and kept eating. A spoonful of rice to his right, a spoonful of tofu to his left, a spoonful of rice, a spoonful of tofu… Like a pendulum, his head swung back and forth to munch down what’s in his spoon that time.
Tears started to fall. It was slow at first. One drip, two drips… But as he ate more, the intervals between each drip shortened. Not long after, tears were flowing down in a stream, all the way from his eyes to his cheek, his cheek to his chin, and finally onto the dish of tofu.
“How’s it?” Ev quietly asked.
“A bit bland,” Tar answered while sobbing. “But why is it so damn good?”
He could not control his emotions anymore and he burst out crying. His tears were no longer a gentle stream of river, but a violent waterfall instead, splashing everywhere. Onto the tofu, onto the rice, onto the table… He wiped his tears and snot off with both his arm, all the while wolfing down the rice and tofu in front of him.
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“Papa! Papa!” He cried continuously. He did not mind being scolded by his father, and he did not care if his father was annoyed by his call, if it meant his father would respond.
The sight of this helpless child crying over the loss of his family made Bern and Ev tear up. “It was already painful enough to lose a family member at our age, I can’t imagine how it must be for a child like him,” They thought.
Ev hugged Tar tightly. Tar buried himself in her chest and let out everything. It was comfortable.
“Why did Papa have to die?” He asked inwardly, almost reprimanding God for taking away his father. “What did he do to deserve this?”
“I miss you so much already… How can I go on without you?”
That night, the sobbing sound of a child echoed in the dead of cold and pierced through the winter air.
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8 171Fate Set Right
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