asked.
“He has no phone, as far as I know,” he said. “But I can give you an email address.”
Ti-Anna shook her head. “Can you give us any more information? We need to pay him a visit.”
“You and your friend are not exempt from dangers,” Horace replied. “You cannot just roam about.”
When Ti-Anna did not answer, he began drawing on another napkin.
“He lives on the most isolated part of the island—down here,” he said as he sketched what looked like a long, narrow piece of a jigsaw puzzle. “The opposite end from where the ferry drops you.”
This time I took the napkin, folded it and stuck it in my little pack.
“There are no cars on the island, as you know,” he said to me. “If you don’t have a boat, you have to walk. But once you get to his little bay, there’s no missing the house and its bright red roof.”
We headed for the elevator. He and Ti-Anna resumed talking in Chinese, this time very earnestly. As we rode down, I saw tears in her eyes. But by the time he shook our hands outside the restaurant and we again thanked him and said good-bye, she seemed calm.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“I asked if he would contact my mother,” Ti-Anna said. “She will feel more reassured hearing from him.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said we would be better off not pursuing this on our own, but that he would not try to stop us, since we had come so far and wereso determined. He said my father would be proud of us. And he said he would tell my mother that I am fine, since it is true so far.”
“Wow,” I said. “ ‘So far.’ What does he think could happen?”
Ti-Anna shrugged. “He didn’t strike me as full of optimism,” she said. “But at least he didn’t try to stop us.”
Chapter 18
At first, things went according to Ti-Anna’s plan, and I started to shake the ominous feeling Horace had left me with. Maybe I’d just eaten too many dumplings, I told myself.
We found our way back to the ferry docks. To be honest, I found our way; Ti-Anna’s sense of direction was on a par with her appreciation for food.
We scoped out the piers, trying not to telegraph our interest in one over another. Ferries for Lamma seemed to depart every thirty minutes, from Pier 4.
At a kiosk, we bought a map of the island. Ti-Anna didn’t want to leave such a clue, even with a harried clerk inside a kiosk, but I didn’t think Horace’s napkin would be enough to get us to Radio Man’s house before dark. As a compromise we bought maps of a few other islands too.
I also insisted on buying some protein bars and Snickers, and a couple of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut bars—they still seemed to like their British sweets in Hong Kong.
“How can you even think about food after all that dim sum?” Ti-Anna said.
“You’ll thank me later,” I replied, thinking of it more as a suggestion than a prediction.
Joining the crowds in front of the main Star Ferry dock, we found places on a bench, sipping boxes of cold tea with our faces turned to the sun. The day was warming, though a cool breeze was blowing in from the bay. We could have been a couple of young tourists getting a lazy start on our sightseeing.
Sixty seconds before our ferry was supposed to leave, we tossed our tea boxes into the trash and moved fast, while trying to look like we weren’t moving fast, toward the Lamma pier.
We stepped aboard just before one crewman shut the gate, while another tossed the lines from the giant knobs along the deck. We were the last ones on. If anyone wanted to follow us to Lamma, they’d have to take the next boat.
We made our way to the upper deck, found seats together on a bench, tucked our little packs between our feet and let our heart rates return to normal as the downtown receded and water sounds filled in where city sounds had been.
Oil tankers and cargo ships with giant containers stacked on their decks steamed smoothly past us, while fragile little fishing boats bounced in their
“He has no phone, as far as I know,” he said. “But I can give you an email address.”
Ti-Anna shook her head. “Can you give us any more information? We need to pay him a visit.”
“You and your friend are not exempt from dangers,” Horace replied. “You cannot just roam about.”
When Ti-Anna did not answer, he began drawing on another napkin.
“He lives on the most isolated part of the island—down here,” he said as he sketched what looked like a long, narrow piece of a jigsaw puzzle. “The opposite end from where the ferry drops you.”
This time I took the napkin, folded it and stuck it in my little pack.
“There are no cars on the island, as you know,” he said to me. “If you don’t have a boat, you have to walk. But once you get to his little bay, there’s no missing the house and its bright red roof.”
We headed for the elevator. He and Ti-Anna resumed talking in Chinese, this time very earnestly. As we rode down, I saw tears in her eyes. But by the time he shook our hands outside the restaurant and we again thanked him and said good-bye, she seemed calm.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“I asked if he would contact my mother,” Ti-Anna said. “She will feel more reassured hearing from him.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said we would be better off not pursuing this on our own, but that he would not try to stop us, since we had come so far and wereso determined. He said my father would be proud of us. And he said he would tell my mother that I am fine, since it is true so far.”
“Wow,” I said. “ ‘So far.’ What does he think could happen?”
Ti-Anna shrugged. “He didn’t strike me as full of optimism,” she said. “But at least he didn’t try to stop us.”
Chapter 18
At first, things went according to Ti-Anna’s plan, and I started to shake the ominous feeling Horace had left me with. Maybe I’d just eaten too many dumplings, I told myself.
We found our way back to the ferry docks. To be honest, I found our way; Ti-Anna’s sense of direction was on a par with her appreciation for food.
We scoped out the piers, trying not to telegraph our interest in one over another. Ferries for Lamma seemed to depart every thirty minutes, from Pier 4.
At a kiosk, we bought a map of the island. Ti-Anna didn’t want to leave such a clue, even with a harried clerk inside a kiosk, but I didn’t think Horace’s napkin would be enough to get us to Radio Man’s house before dark. As a compromise we bought maps of a few other islands too.
I also insisted on buying some protein bars and Snickers, and a couple of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut bars—they still seemed to like their British sweets in Hong Kong.
“How can you even think about food after all that dim sum?” Ti-Anna said.
“You’ll thank me later,” I replied, thinking of it more as a suggestion than a prediction.
Joining the crowds in front of the main Star Ferry dock, we found places on a bench, sipping boxes of cold tea with our faces turned to the sun. The day was warming, though a cool breeze was blowing in from the bay. We could have been a couple of young tourists getting a lazy start on our sightseeing.
Sixty seconds before our ferry was supposed to leave, we tossed our tea boxes into the trash and moved fast, while trying to look like we weren’t moving fast, toward the Lamma pier.
We stepped aboard just before one crewman shut the gate, while another tossed the lines from the giant knobs along the deck. We were the last ones on. If anyone wanted to follow us to Lamma, they’d have to take the next boat.
We made our way to the upper deck, found seats together on a bench, tucked our little packs between our feet and let our heart rates return to normal as the downtown receded and water sounds filled in where city sounds had been.
Oil tankers and cargo ships with giant containers stacked on their decks steamed smoothly past us, while fragile little fishing boats bounced in their
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