A Different Kind of Family Pt. 01

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CHAPTER 1

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I was eight years old when my parents died. They had come to America just before I was born, eking out a living as hired farm hands in California before moving on towards the Great Plains. This was the land of opportunity, but life was not easy in Middle America for a couple of uneducated Chinks and two small children.

Still, all of their hopes and dreams were for our success. My younger sister and I attended local schools as often as possible, and every extra penny they had went into providing for our educational needs. They dreamed that I could grow up and be a doctor or lawyer, live a better life.

We were on our way to a new job in the next state over when my dad fell asleep at the wheel. He and my mom had been driving in shifts for the last two days straight in order to make it to the new job on time. Our battered truck flipped into a ditch, and the next thing I knew, Child Services was delivering me to a dusty building where a weather-beaten couple was waiting for me. A sign by the road read “Masters Farm”.

A kind but overworked and exhausted social worker was talking to my new foster parents. They were signing some paperwork and then the social worker handed them a check. She turned and pointed to me. “His family died in an accident off Route 47. We don’t have any record of where they were headed or where they were coming from. Just a family of undocumented Chinese. But the boy’s got a US birth certificate; he speaks perfect English, and responds to the name ‘John’.”

‘Responds to’ is right. My name is “Chon”. Hell, they had my birth certificate which spelled it out for them. But after trying to get that point across for several minutes I just gave up. John sounded close enough to Chon anyways.

The social worker gave me a tight smile and then climbed into her car, driving away in a cloud of dust. My new father, a big man, bellowed in my general direction, “Johnny, get over here, boy!”

Oh how I missed my teddy bear at that moment. I hadn’t seen it since the accident. So with my eyes downcast to the dirt, I had nothing to hug but myself as I trudged forwards and followed my new parents into the house.

They sat me at a worn but serviceable dining table, and settled into the chairs opposite me. I did my best not to cry while they laid down the ground rules. First off, I was to call them “Master” and “Ma’am.” Ma’am went on to place a bowl of pea soup before me, which I ate quickly and hungrily while Master explained my situation.

“The government is only giving us pennies a month for you, and you’ll damn near eat that much alone. So you’ve gotta earn your keep around here, see? You’ll have chores all day every day, starting at six o’clock. You come right here and see me every morning and I’ll tell you what you need to do for the day. Except on Sundays. That’s the Sabbath. Understand?”

I just nodded my head yes.

Before I realized it, the side of my head was splitting in pain and Master was leaning over me, his open palm cocked for another slap. The tears were flowing freely from my eyes now. “You say ‘I understand, Master.'”

“I understand, Master,” I managed to burble out.

“Smart boy. Now part of the deal is that you’ll get some schooling. Now I think that’s a waste of time for a farm boy, but a deal’s a deal; otherwise they’ll stop giving me checks for you. Understand?”

“I understand, Master.”

“Good. You learn fast. I like that. Now when you’re finished with your supper, Katie’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

For a moment I thought he was referring to Ma’am, but even as he said this, Ma’am turned and hollered out the backyard, “Katie! Get in here!”

Moments later, a young girl about my age came running, fear in her eyes as she stopped in front of Ma’am, rigidly at attention. “You’ll wash up Johnny’s bowl and then take him to the Barn. Understand?”

“I understand, Ma’am.”

“And you say hello to Johnny.”

Katie turned to look at me. Her eyes were the clearest blue I could imagine. “Hello Johnny. Pleased to meet you.” She came forward and scooped up my bowl, quickly moving to the sink to begin washing it. I noticed some light bruises fading on her arms and face. Nothing serious. But I understood this was a family that believed in corporal discipline.

Master explained, “Social workers brought us Katie last year. She’s a good worker. We’re hoping you’ll be a good worker too.” He turned and looked to his wife. “Heck, maybe we should get us a coupla more orphans and we won’t have to do nothing ’round here no more!”

The bowl and spoon were quickly put away, and then Katie came to me. She took my hand in hers, and led me out the back door. From that first day, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She reminded me of a doll I’d once seen in a toy store. Strawberry blonde hair, round cheeks, bright blue eyes. I’d never been at a school long enough to make real friends before. I hoped she would be my friend.

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The first week was really rough. It took me a while to get used to saying “Master” and “Ma’am” after everything I said, and I had the bruises to prove it. They weren’t bad people, mind you. It was just their idea of discipline. And there were so many things to learn. I’d never really worked a farm before. As a kid, I’d usually just help my parents picking fruit or small jobs like that. We’d be around for planting or for harvest, then move on to the next job. All the tasks I was used do doing were handled by other hired help. Now I was suddenly expected to milk cows, saddle horses, and do all the daily things involved in running the place.

Already I was starting to learn the Rhythms of Life: Tragedy, happiness, sadness, love. One day I’m crying. The next, I’m laughing at one of Katie’s little jokes. Life goes on.

In hindsight, the overwhelming nature of my new life was a blessing in disguise. It kept my mind off of my family. I never got to mourn them, I was just forced to adjust and keep on living. Kids are pretty resilient that way.

Katie really helped me out. She was patient in teaching me everything, and always willing to help when I got in over my head. We slept in the barn loft, with warm hay and a quilt. And when the nightmares from the car crash came to me, I would find Katie wrapping me in a warm hug, and then sleep would come a little bit easier after that.

After three months, she was already the longest friend I’d ever had. Even more than that, Katie was my new “sister”. In public, I referred to the Masters as my Ma and my Pa. Townsfolk got a big laugh out of a little Chinese boy having a white sister and parents.

School would come few days and far in between. I knew how to read and could pick up the math pretty well. But whenever I’d just start to make friends or get the hang of things, the farm would call me back and I’d lose a lot of the progress I made. Same with Katie.

Time began to just fly by. With my daily routine on the farm, every day blended into the next. I never knew the exact date; but I knew when Sunday came, because it was my one day of rest (mostly). And I could count the number of winters we’d made it through.

It was the middle of my sixth winter on the farm when I snuck into the house to swipe some bread. It was still very early in the morning, the sun not yet up, and the Masters were usually still asleep at this hour. I glided through the door and down the hall with practiced ease.

I knew it was against the rules to steal. But I was really hungry and I’d only been caught but a few times doing this. The last couple of years had not been very good for the farm, and the Masters had cut back a little on feeding Katie and me. You would think that on a farm, the last thing we’d run short of was food. But I was starving. I was in the kitchen, the cupboard open and the loaf within reach when I heard a scream.

Instantly, I froze, thinking I’d been caught. Then after a few heart-pounding moments, I closed the cupboard and turned around to find myself alone in the kitchen. Then the scream came again.

I was afraid to move, but some noble male part of me ordered that I investigate and protect. So I grabbed a rolling pin and padded down the hallway. The walls closed in on me in the darkness, and just then a cloud passed in front of the moon, plunging me into an even deeper pitch of black. For a fourteen-year old boy, the unknown is a dreadfully scary thing. And my mind conjured up evil monsters lurking behind every corner in the dark. My blood racing, I hesitated, teetering on the edge of turning about and fleeing for my life.

But then the moon came out again, and I breathed a little bit easier. Gathering up my courage, I started up again. When the third scream came, directly from the Masters’ room, I hurried to their door. I was afraid I’d lost my second set of parents. The door was open, just a crack, and I got down to peer inside.

Just when I was about to push in the door, Master yelled, freezing the blood in my veins. But when I managed to look inside, Ma’am was just kissing Master. What was with all the yelling and screaming? I was very confused, and sat there with my jaw hanging open, trying to understand.

Just when you think you’ve got everything figured out around this place… Well, apparently there was no harm done, unless the Master caught me out of bed and in the house. And then there would be much harm done on my poor body. So as quietly as possible, I retreated back to the barn, and prepared myself for the day’s start.

Katie wanted to know where our bread was. I only told her that the Masters were awake, and I had run away.

***

The next morning, I woke up in my usual position: stretched out across the hay, with Katie’s strawberry-blonde head pillow on my arm. Her body was already starting to develop, and from my vantage point, I realized I could see the soft swells of her breasts starting to peek from the neckline of her shirt.