Worlds Apart

by Luke Loaghan

  Wing King had arrived in America from China less than three years before, and felt the need to defend his native country. Wing was intelligent, a top student, and very proud of his Chinese background. Mrs. Moynihan was closed minded to Wing’s nationalism. She explained that there were no human rights in China like there were in America.

  “Mrs. Moynihan…American democracy is not a model for democracy for the entire world. China’s government is not looking for 1960’s American type protests and riots,” Wing said.

  “The 1960’s protests were of the Vietnam war. Sometimes the police got carried away, but there were no official government tanks that tried to run over students,” Mrs. Moynihan said. She proudly added that she was speaking from experience.

  “I was referring to the treatments of blacks, and the Civil Rights movement. They protested against segregation. But the protests against the Vietnam War are a good example as well. America is not the model for human rights given what has occurred. China has been here for thousands of years, and changes are slow. The Chinese government will make changes, and if it takes one hundred to two hundred years, it is considered very quickly.” The class laughed at Wing’s time frame of quick change.

  “Well, here in America things don’t take that long. A change is voted upon and enacted by Congress and things change much more quickly,” argued Mrs. Moynihan.

  “The laws may change quickly, but the minds and memories of a nation change much slower. That’s the real change. I am sure that black people and Native Indians do not feel the same way about the quickness of change,” countered Wing.

  “You really should say African Americans and Native Americans,” said Mrs. Moynihan, impressed that Wing knew so much about American history.

  “In thirty years, China will be the most powerful country in the world. Then the Chinese government will become the model for democracy that the United States is today,” said Wing.

  “In thirty years, China may be a powerful nation, but the United States is not going to disappear,” I said. “The United States will still be a superpower and a model of democracy that will be on display to all nations. The United States will still be the most powerful country,” I said.

  “America is already bleeding – jobs, corruption, crime, diseases. Trust me, David, the bleeding can’t be stopped.” Wing held his chin up in the air.

  “Why is that? Why would China become a model for democracy?” asked Mrs. Moynihan.

  Wing remarked, “Because the most powerful nation on the planet has to set the example in order to become stronger in people’s minds and not just on paper. Real superpowers are respected and feared without exercising their might.”

  “Well said,” I replied to Wing. “But I think America will come back. We always do.” I complimented Wing’s knowledge of international politics and excellent English language skills. He had been in the states for such a short time.

  “I studied English for ten years before I came to this country. Do you study Chinese here?” he asked.

  “I think Chinese is only offered in colleges right now,” I answered. “You must have also studied American history.”

  “Yes. I have seen the pictures of the protesters, the dogs, the hoses, and police brutality. You should not be so quick to condemn China based on pictures of Tiananmen Square, given your country’s history.”

  “America has learned from its past, and continues to make changes and head in the right direction. Can you say the same about China?” I asked.

  “Only time will tell, but yes, changes are occurring in China, and soon the Chinese Army will be the most powerful in the world,” Wing said.

  “But will communism survive or give way to democracy?”

  “We have democracy in China, its just not American democracy,” commented Wing.

  I held up a picture from a magazine of the Chinese Student at Tiananmen Square standing in front of a tank and said, “Is this what you call Chinese Democracy?”

  “It will get better,” Wing said. The bell rang, ending our debate, and we walked out together in the hallway.

  “If you don’t mind, can I ask you to explain the difference between a Republican and a Democrat?” Wing asked me.

  “There is a well known and simple way that a journalist once explained it. Let’s say that you go out to dinner with four friends. Everyone orders something different – steak, lobster, a salad, and someone just has an appetizer. Everyone drinks something different – water, soda, scotch, and champagne. The bill comes. Now a republican wants everyone to pay for what they ordered. A democrat wants the bill split evenly in four ways.”

  “I see. Which one are you?” Wing asked.

  “It depends.” I answered smugly.

  “Depends on what?”

  “On what I ordered and how much I ate,” I laughed. Wing laughed a moment later, but I wasn’t sure if he understood the joke. “What about you?” I asked.

  “I’m from the People’s Republic of China…we eat family style and I like to taste what everyone else ordered.” He catches on fast.

  “Well then that makes you a communist,” I said.

  “Actually, that makes me full,” Wing responded.

  I was writing an article about the top athletes in school and where they were to attend college. Mino did not get a scholarship, but was accepted at a big ten school in the Midwest. I wondered how he could afford it. In my interview, Mino said all the right things about feeling honored, being excited, and the making the most of the opportunity. He looked depressed. I asked him if he was okay.

  “I don’t even like football. I’m sick of it. I lied to my mother and told her that I received a scholarship.”

  “What are you going to do? How can you pay for it?” I asked.

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  I interviewed Kenneth from the basketball team. He talked about his full scholarship. I quoted him in the paper “I have no regrets about high school; I did everything I wanted to.”

  Sandra from the swim team was able to get a half scholarship to a State school. Jacob was going off to a different college, and she was realistic about the future. She added that if Jacob really cared for her, he would go to any lengths to be with her.

  Many seniors were staying in the state, as the national economy headed south and the best deals were within our own state college system.

  The choice for me was made – I came from a poor family, and we could not afford an expensive private school. For middle class families, there was a real debate. The expense of private schools might be worth the reputation for them. A top private school could really open doors in the future. I went to see Ms. Eris. She was in her office and welcomed me in.

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

  “I’m second guessing everything. I’ve been accepted to a state college, I can’t afford a private college. I don’t know if I’m making the right decision by even going to college…because… I want to pursue a career in music. I just don’t know.”

  “This means that you are a normal high school senior. All your fears, all your concerns, all your second guessing…it all boils down to the same thing. You have a fear of the unknown, just like everyone else. Up to this point, your father has made all the decisions in your life. But now it’s up to you. You fear the unknown world outside of high school. It will be fine no matter what direction you choose. There is life after high school. Just make sure that you accomplish all that you needed to while you are still here, because one day, ten years or twenty years from now, you don’t want to look back and have regrets.”

  For the first time Ms. Eris made sense.

  Carlos was waiting for me.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I have a problem. Someone told Mr. Mash that I was one of the students that cheated on the SATs. Mash knows all the details. Do you know who turned me in?” asked Carlos.

  “Did you cheat on the SATs?” I asked. Carlos hesitated, but I stared at him, arms fo
lded, waiting for answer.

  “Several of us brought cheat sheets and dictionaries into the boys’ bathroom that day. The SAT board is saying that our scoring was too similar and it indicates cheating, but they also know how we cheated, in detail, so someone told them.”

  “Carlos, did you ask Sam?” I said.

  “I did. Sam said that I shouldn’t blame him for cheating and getting caught. There were a few of us that cheated. Sam was one.”

  “I think that only someone involved could have given that information.” Carlos had already figured this out before he came to meet me.

  “I guess it was Sam,” said Carlos. I didn’t have to tell Carlos that it was Sam that ratted him out. Mr. Mash had obviously received my anonymous letter and what he did with it was his decision.

  About an hour later, I finished my article and left Doreen and the rest of the newspaper editors for the last time. It was rewarding working on the school newspaper and although things took twice as long because of everyone’s egos, it was still a valuable high school experience.

  Carlos and Sam were walking to the subway. I caught up with them and John also joined us. The four of us had not been together in a few months. We walked by the psychic. She called out Sam’s name. Sam looked at her and kept walking. She said, “Betrayal.”

  Sam had been staying at John’s place. The incident with his mother at the dance did not end at school. Sam had shown up on John’s doorstep at midnight looking for a place to stay. Sam had argued with both of his parents after the dance. He and his family exchanged various slaps, pushes, then objects flew, dishes were broken, and various people choked each other. Sam then locked himself in his parents’ room, urinated on their bed, and was consequently thrown out of the house. John took him in. Sam asked persistently if he could spend a few nights at my place and I agreed reluctantly.

  “Sam, did you hear that there was cheating on the SATs?” I asked.

  “There is an investigation as well,” John said. Sam remained quiet.

  “Mr. Mash said that a student came forward to expose the cheaters,” John added.

  “Sam, what miserable student would’ve come forward to turn his friends in?” Carlos asked.

  “It was me,” said Sam.

  “How could you turn me in!” shouted Carlos.

  “I didn’t. Mr. Mash started asking me all kinds of questions. I turned in the others and they must have mentioned your name to Mash.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked.

  “It’s wrong for them to cheat,” said Sam. “They would not have scored as high without cheating and it really ruins the rankings.”

  “But you cheated as well,” said Carlos.

  “I don’t consider it cheating. I enabled you guys to have my answers in the bathroom, but I did not cheat,” said Sam.

  “But we could not have cheated without your help!” yelled Carlos.

  “I helped you, but I did not cheat off your answers. Besides, I have a bright future at Harvard and you guys don’t. The impact of your cheating is greater than the impact of mine,” said Sam. “Your cheating caused you to score above what you normally would. Mine did not.”

  There was no reasoning with his logic, and I really did not want to see Sam go into an emotional tailspin, so we left it alone. Carlos was heated but he did not say more.

  Changing the topic, I asked Sam if he would consider giving Delancey her gun.

  “She’s rich; her father can get her another gun. I need the money and I am trying to sell it.” I argued that it wasn’t his money to begin with, but Sam’s logic didn’t see it that way.

  Sam came home with me and I made him a bed on the couch. John’s parents no longer wanted the responsibility of having Sam at their home. My father was not happy with the situation and felt that Sam was still a child and should be home with his parents. I explained to my father that Sam was going to Harvard and that hardly made him a child. My father responded that anyone who urinates on their parents’ bed is still a child.

  During dinner, my father said to Sam, “I don’t appreciate that Iran held fifty-three Americans hostage for more than a year.”

  “I don’t either,” said Sam.

  “I’m not a big fan of the Shah,” said my father.

  “I don’t like puppet governments set up by the CIA either,” Sam smirked.

  “Why can’t Iran get its act together?” asked my father.

  “Look, I’m Persian but I can’t defend Iran. But I tell you this, the Persian Empire was all that an empire ever could be. Look around at the influence of the Persians in Europe, in mathematics, in architecture. We were once the greatest of all the empires. When the Persian Empire ruled India, it was the Persian ways that they brought with them. That’s why the Taj Mahal still stands. That’s why people from the northern part of India to the southern part of Europe, to the northern parts of Africa look a little Persian. Persian literature and architecture influenced….” My father interrupted Sam.

  “The Mughals ruled India, not the Persians. They were Timurids, from the Mongols of Genghis Khan’s army, not Persians,” said my father. My father usually ate dinner in silence, and never discussed history and politics.

  “They were Islamic, and not Zoroastrians like the Persians had been. They ruled Iran the same time they ruled Central Asia. And it was a Mughal king who built the Taj Mahal. It still stands because it is a symbol of his undying love for his wife who died. It still stands because when you create something out of all your love, all your pain, all your emotion, it tends to last forever.”

  My father had just blown my mind.

  “How do you know all this?” asked Sam, stunned as I was, but only because it was the first time that anyone ever corrected his view of the Persian Empire.

  “I didn’t go to college, but that does not mean I’m not educated,” said my father. “My father came from a British colony in South America. Half of the population were indentured servants from India.”

  “And what about the other half?” asked Sam.

  “Mostly Africans, but some Portuguese, Dutch, British left over, and Chinese.”“Why such a mix?” asked Sam.

  “Like most nations in the western hemisphere, its history was of a search for gold. Different parts of Europe colonized the Guyanas They all came searching for El Dorado. But when Europe abolished slavery in the early part of the 1800’s, it really ended only the African slave trade. So they went to India for their labor, with the same slave boats from the African slave trade and brought indentured servants to the Caribbean. They packed the Indians in tight, as they did with the slaves. The trip was twice as long as a trip from Africa. The Chinese came as well. It was called Indentured Servitude but working without pay is called slavery.” My father went back to eating.

  I was really impressed with his knowledge.

  “Some of the boats crashed due to storms. That is why so many people in the Caribbean look Indian. They may be Jamaican, or Dominican, or from Guadalupe, Trinidad, etc. but they have Indian blood of indentured servants.”

  “What happened to the gold?”

  My father gave a deep sigh, leaned back and said, “All that glitters isn’t gold.”

  “Your self education is very impressive, sir,” said Sam.

  “There’s too much emphasis on a college degree, and not enough on real education,” my father said.

  We finished dinner, and watched television. At eleven o’clock, there was a knock on our front door. We never had visitors that late.

  My father opened the front door and found Sam’s mother. She threatened to call the police and report that Sam was being held against his will at my house. She sounded and looked the part of a raving lunatic. My father ordered Sam out of the house at once. Sam wasn’t surprised by his mother’s unexpected presence at our house. He quietly got dressed and left. He climbed into the back seat of his father’s car, and they drove off. I’ve seen happier faces in the backseat of police cars.

  “Never again,” my
father said.

  That weekend at the café, everyone was on edge about the attack on the woman in Central Park. Christine told Shesha that she couldn’t stay late anymore and would prefer to leave at three o’clock. Shesha refused her request and said that she had to stay until six o’clock.

  “I found out about Eddie,” Christine said to me at the end of the day. “He’s in real trouble. The Tongs have ordered him dead; his own elders from his own gang. Eddie had gotten into a personal feud with the rival gangsters that he shot. Eddie dropped out of the Chinatown gang, and is going by a new name – The Serpent,” said Christine.

  “Have you heard from him? Why do they want him dead?” I asked, recalling Eddie’s Stanton basketball uniform read Stanton Serpents across the top.

  “No one has heard from him directly. He shot and killed a rival gang member on his own that day in the billiards hall. In order to avoid a war between the two gangs, the elders have ordered him killed for his actions. ”

  “Who did he kill?” I asked. “The son of a Tong from another gang, a guy named Johnny. He didn’t mean to kill him in the pool hall; it was just self defense. It’s very dangerous for Eddie, too dangerous,” Christine said worried.

  Eddie could have had a bright future in college, but now it really didn’t matter.On the subway ride home, I thought about Eddie Lo’s violent side, and Sam’s emotional problems. These were two smart students at one of the most competitive and highly reputable high schools in the entire country. I thought about Eddie playing basketball, and how he’d been offered his dream, a scholarship to play at St. John’s and how he had ruined this opportunity. Eddie was accustomed to a life of crime; it was all that he expected out of life. He could not consider life beyond his Chinatown Gang. It was hard to conceive that this was my roommate from the high school senior ski trip. It was hard to believe that this was the coolest guy that I knew. Now his days were probably numbered.