THE QUIET TRAIN by BROOKE ATTAWAY Xishuangbanna, 1874. Adelaide Chen sipped lemon water from a crystalline glass, listening to the chatter of adults behind the shoji screen in the car. Thick foliage and bright flowers whizzed past the window faster than Adelaide could recognize them, drawing in and leaving pleasant smells in its wake. The train’s noisy movements were oddly soothing and rhythmic, and counting the amount of times the ‘bumps’ fluctuated from its pattern helped her to pass the time. Underneath the perfume of the foreign flowers, Adelaide could smell the familiar fishy scent of oysters being prepared for lunch. She had grown up in Great Britain with her mother, who was a well known and very rich investor. She had fought her way through the men and found her place on the top, and Adelaide was (unadmittedly) proud of her. Her father, a man her mother had met on a business trip, lived in China. He too was a small investor, but preferred using his fame to manipulate the government for the better of the country. No one knew (nor cared) where his money had come from, but he lived in a lavish house with a stream cleverly cutting through the center of the first floor. Every spring and fall she would spend a few weeks in China with her father, staying in touch with the culture and seeing if she still knew Cantonese proficiently (she practiced it more than her father would believe). Her parents were still married, just not in touch as much as other long distance relationships. A few letters were exchanged every month with a family trip every few years. Adelaide was an only child, thankfully, and appreciated her parents’ separation sometimes. She knew what having two (should be divorced) parents in the house meant for so many children in her school, and while she was certain her father would never think about raising a hand to her, she’d prefer not to be the outlet to the pressure of society.
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