Crumbling Dam, Jana Coffeen (10

The A-Gong I Never Met, cont.

come to Thailand briefly before returning to China. However, instead of swimming across the canal, she had bribed a doctor to send her to Hong Kong with a letter stating she required an emergent medical procedure. Sending me a message via mail, she notified me of her success. I was impressed to say the least. I stuck the letter in my coat pocket and went about my day. Later that day, Heng Lee came to me. She looked upset, angry even. She lifts her hand and reveals the note lying there. Oh no. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a wife?” she asked. To be honest, I was not sure what to say. I kept quiet. She took off the engagement ring and hands it to me. “I’m done.” I broke down. My six-foot-two frame crumpled on the floor and I sobbed. I spilled my whole story. I had not told her before, but she needed to know. I tell her about my father. I tell her about my mother’s land. I tell her about my great escape. After several long moments of consolescences, Heng Lee must have taken pity on me. Because next thing I know, my ring was back on her finger. “Are you not upset with me?” I asked “Bring her here first, then we can argue.” With that, she walked away.

(A Couple Decades Later) Feeding nineteen mouths the past twenty decades has not been a stroll in the park. My children did not have much, but we made do. Standing in the seven story house I had built years ago, the joss paper company had made its home inside the Chang residence. The success of my business was not due only to myself, but also to my three wives. I take in my surroundings and hope that my father could see me now. I did my best to put honor upon our name.

Written in the first person perspective, this story is based on my own grandfather, Keng Hong Chang. A-Gong is the name I called him by as I grew up listening to his legacy. I was not fortunate enough to meet him, but my father would tell his story and I was happy to listen.