My eyes pop open as the sound of rustling pulls me out of sleep. I stare at the ceiling, waiting for the Chinese soldiers to yank me out of bed. My brows furrow as a giggle comes from the right of me. I flinch, my heart leaping into my throat as a little girl stands beside my bed, my helmet on her head. The helmet is way too big for her. The visor is practically covering her whole face except for her chin. She takes the helmet off and flashes a big, bright smile. Her ink-black hair sticks up from the static. She doesn't look any older than eight. She laughs and runs out of the room with my helmet.
"Hey, give that back!" I call out.
I cringe at how much I sounded like a friggin child, but I don't want some little kid running around with my helmet. I force myself to sit up, wincing as a sharp pain explodes from my leg. A woman shouts something in Mandarin from the hallway. My breath hitches as the door flies open. My muscles tighten as I wait for the soldiers to barge through the door and start beating the crap out of me. But that doesn't happen. A woman stands in the doorway, shouting at the little girl. The little girl pouts as she angrily puts my helmet back on the chair. My eyes flick to the woman. It doesn't take me long at all to realize that she's the little girl's mother. The little girl practically looks like a clone of her. The woman's eyes flick to mine, and I almost flinch with how angry she looks. Her lips slightly curl downwards in revulsion. She looks at me like a bug that needed to be squashed. She shouts at the little girl again. The girl quickly turns and leaves the room.
The mother doesn't take her furious eyes off me. She just glares at me for a solid minute before slamming the door shut. Why is she so pissed? It's not like I asked for any of this. A few minutes later, the mother and the old man come walking into my room. My eyes instantly draw to a white bowl in the old man's hands. My stomach growls as I smell chicken. The man hands me the bowl. Without question, I take it; a little upset that it's only broth and nothing solid, but I don't complain. I put the bowl to my mouth and swallow the hot, salty liquid. I drink until there's nothing left. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to begin with. It's probably because of how little I've eaten in the past few days...or has it been weeks now? The woman and the old man stand at the foot of my bed, staring at me. The old man has a friendlier face. He doesn't seem threatening at all while the woman glares at me with nothing but hatred in those black eyes. If looks could kill, I would've been incinerated. I place the empty bowl down on the drawer next to me. I feel really awkward as the two of them just stare at me.
Aren't you guys gonna say something? Or...are they waiting for me to say something?
"Um...thanks," I decide to mumble.
The old man smiles and says something in Mandarin.
"What is your name?" the woman asks, her voice sharp and laced with hatred.
I open my mouth, about to say Binky, but I quickly stop myself. I want them to take me seriously. That and my callsign was the only part of home I seemed to have left. I want to keep it. To keep it mine.
"Miles."
The woman repeats it back to the old man. The man nods. He points to himself.
"Name Cheung. Cheung."
He then points to his daughter. "Mei-Xing. Mei-Xing."
I nod in response. The old man starts talking again. I stare at him blankly, not understanding a single word that's coming out of his mouth.
"Do you speak any other language, American?" asks Mei-Xing. I get the feeling that was her own question and not Cheung's.
"My mom is Puerto Rican, so I speak a decent amount of Spanish."
"And your father?"
"Whiter than a piece of paper."
She doesn't laugh. She keeps that cold, angry glare on her face. She finally rolls her eyes.
"Why would I expect an American to know any other language?" she growls. My eyes narrow.
Hey, I said I know Spanish. I mean, I guess Spanish won't really help in this situation, though.
Cheung nudges her in the side and nods towards me. Probably urging her to tell me what he said.
"My father says you were in really bad shape when he found you."
"How did you find me?"
The fact that he did means I was way off course. I guess I was closer to the Chinese border than I thought. I mean, could you blame me, though? I was running from bullets. I didn't exactly have time to take out my map and check where I was. Mei-Xing repeats my question in Mandarin.
"He takes morning walks every day. This particular day, he was walking and just so happened to see birds. A lot of birds circling overhead. After years of being submerged and surrounded by war, you start to understand what that means. He always follows the birds just in case it's something still alive. Lucky for you, he saw you. You were basically frozen, you know that? Not only that, but you lost over thirty percent of your blood. He couldn't believe you were alive...and he still can't believe you stayed alive. Every day when he woke up, he expected to find you dead."
She scoffs and folds her arms over her chest. "I wish he did find you dead," she grumbles under her breath. I can tell she's saying it in English to get under my skin. I curl my fingers around the sheets, my eyes narrowing into slits.
"I didn't ask for you to save me!" I snap at her. Her eyes narrow even more.
"But he did! He took the bullet out of your leg. He treated your burn. He used up the rest of his supplies, practically spent whatever money he had left all to keep you breathing. If he were caught, he could be killed. I could be killed. My child could be killed. My father risked his life, our lives for you! I hope you deserve it!"
I open my mouth to argue some more, but I don't know what to say. Anything I say will just sound childish or ungrateful.
"Wheres my gun? If you have it, you have to give it back!"
"It was frozen in that creek! Your gun is long gone!"
I turn my attention towards Cheung.
"Why did you save me?"
Cheung hesitates for a moment. His gaze travels up to the ceiling as he thinks. Finally, he looks back at me and starts to talk. I, again, have no clue what he's saying, but I can see the sincerity in his eyes.
"I do not judge a man based solely on who he fights for but if his heart is beating. You are human. I am human. We are not this war. If I can save a life, I will. Whether that life is Russian, Chinese, or American. I value life and life alone."
I pull my eyes down to the blankets. That's a pretty nice reason, I guess.
"How long have I been here?"
"A week."
I swallow hard as I stare down at the outline of my legs under the blanket.
"How...how bad is it?"
My heart pounds as I wait for his answer.
Please tell me I'm not gonna lose the leg.
I don't think the Navy will let me fly anymore without one. That...and I really don't want to be hobbling around for the rest of my life.
"You're the luckiest man I've ever come across. Your hand will heal within a few days, and you may have some nerve damage in your leg, but you'll be able to walk...with time."
I sigh in relief.
"How much time?"
Mei-Xing rolls her eyes in response to his answer. "Ideally, a few months, but you'll only be staying here for two."
I nod. I hate the fact that I'm gonna be stuck in enemy territory for two months. Still, it's not like I can walk to Mongolia anymore. I just hate it for my parents. I'll be presumed dead back home. Hurricane, Ghost, everyone, all of my friends on the carrier will think I'm dead. For some reason, I can't bear the thought of Hurricane thinking I'm gone. I wonder if she saw me eject. I wonder if she still hopes to find me or if she automatically assumes I'm dead. Like I did with Blaze. That is...if she didn't get shot down herself.
"What do you plan on doing with me once I'm healed?"
Cheung and Mei-Xing talk back and forth with one another. Finally, Mei-Xing looks back at me.
"We will drive you to the Mongolian border. You'll be on your own from there, but you'll have to find the freedom fighters. You'll be their problem then."
I scoff and shake my head at her snarky response. Don't be mad at me because of something your dad did. Be pissed at him.
He goes on to tell me how he took the bullet out. Apparently, he was a doctor in Beijing before retiring a few years ago.
That's lucky, I think to myself.
They leave me, and I end up staying in the room for the rest of the day, falling in and out of sleep the whole time. Cheung only wakes me to eat or drink my chicken broth. I basically beg Cheung the entire week to let me take a shower. To eat solid food. To be a human being again, but he says it's too soon. By the second week, my hand is pretty much healed, but I'm going absolutely stir-crazy. I want nothing more than to leave this friggin room. Finally, he says I can take a bath, but I have to put a giant plastic bag over my leg and promise to keep it out of the water. Of course, I agree. Anything to get me out of this room. He helps me out of the bed. I feel bad as he helps me wobble over to the bathroom. He's clearly struggling to hold up my weight, but he doesn't say anything. Finally, we get into the bathroom. He points to some clothes resting on the bathroom sink and then points to the bathtub filled with steaming hot water.
"Thanks," I say. He smiles, nods, and then leaves, closing the door behind him. I pull the huge plastic bag over my leg and then slip into the tub. I close my eyes as the hot water engulfs my body. I smile. I can't even tell you how nice it feels to bathe. I lean my head back, letting the hot water soak my hair. I run my fingers through my hair, which I'm just now realizing is getting long. Longer than I usually keep it, at least. I typically keep it at a nice low fade haircut, but now I can feel the sides and back growing in. I run my hands over my cheeks. I can't grow a beard, but I can feel some hair starting to grow around my chin and upper lip. I try to close my eyes but can't for too long. Every time I do, I see Akio's face. I see his blood on my hands. On my chest. On my shoulders. I hear the radar warning inside my jet. I see the fire spewing from my engines. I hear Matrix screaming. I hear Betty's stupid voice. I see Dice burning in his jet.
I yank my eyes open. My heart pounds. Knots form and tighten in my chest as the anxiety attacks my thoughts. Welp. There goes a peaceful bath. As much as I want to sit in the hot water forever, I don't. I can't spend too much time alone with my thoughts. It leads to nothing but anxiety and panic attacks. I struggle to pull myself out of the tub, but I absolutely refuse to ask for help. I need to keep whatever ounce of dignity I have left. Finally, I manage to get out and throw on the clothes Cheung laid out for me. It was a grey hoodie and black sweatpants. Both of which were too small, but it's better than wearing a bloody, smelly flight suit. Or a thin hospital gown. I take off the plastic bag and, for the first time, stare at the gnarly scar on my leg. The skin around the stitches is tight, red, but healthy-looking. It's crazy to think how close to death I was. It's even crazier to believe that a man who's supposed to hate me, saved me. I finally look away and open the bathroom door. The smell of food hits me like a truck as I stand on one leg in the doorway. I can't tell what it is by the smell, but it makes my stomach growl. At this point, I think I would kill to eat solid food.
"Miles!" Cheung calls. I glance down the hallway to see him, Mei-Xing, and her daughter Daiyu sitting at the kitchen table. Cheung rushes over. I wrap my arm around his shoulder. My heart sinks in disappointment as I expect him to turn me around and help me back to my room. But instead, he leads me down the hallway towards the kitchen. He helps me sit. My eyes instantly draw to the amazing smelling and looking food on my plate. They look like dumplings. My mouth waters at the sight of them. I don't hesitate. I pick up the chopsticks, but Mei-Xing scoffs before I can dive in. My narrowed eyes flash up to hers.
"Do you know how to use those, American?"
I lift the chopsticks, glaring into her black, bitter eyes as I open and close the chopsticks over and over again. I flash a smug smirk. It's faint, but I can see her nose scrunch as she fights to avoid showing her anger. I let out a soft scoff as I look down at the dumpling. I use the chopsticks to grab it, but when I lift it up, it slips and lands with a thud back on my plate. It starts to roll. Without even thinking, I stab it with the chopsticks, creating an even louder thud. My ears burn with embarrassment. My eyes flick to Daiyu as she giggles. I don't dare to look at her mother, though. I can picture her face right now, giving me a cold, gloating smile as I bite my tongue and stay quiet. I stuff the dumplings in my mouth and eat as if it were the last meal I may ever have. I barely even chew before swallowing the dumplings whole. Cheung laughs and says something.
"Slow down, American. You are eating like a pig!" Mei-Xing snarls. I highly doubt those were Cheung's exact words.
I stuff another dumpling into my mouth as I glare at Mei-Xing.
"I haven't eaten solid food in three weeks. So my bad if I'm starving!"
I hold eye contact as I stuff yet another dumpling into my mouth. I can see her fingers tightening around the chopsticks, probably wishing she could stab them through my eyes, among other places. I finish my food before everyone else. I lost count of how many dumplings I ate, but despite that, I'm still hungry. I should probably get used to that feeling. I sit quietly at the table and watch as Mei-Xing helps Daiyu with what I assume is homework. My brows raise as Mei-Xing points at me.
"Practice your English," she says.
Daiyu looks at me and smiles, almost looking excited.
"You...fly?" she asks.
I nod.
"Yeah. I'm a pilot."
She smiles and bobs up and down in her chair with excitement.
"Can...I see...your..."
Her brows furrow as she looks up at her mother and says something in Mandarin.
"Helmet," Mei-Xing says to her slowly. The girl's dark eyes flick to mine, flashing that huge smile again.
"Helmet. Can...I see your helmet?"
What's with this girl and my helmet? I slowly nod. She leaps out of her chair and rushes into my room. She laughs that adorable little kid laugh as she runs back into the kitchen. She places my helmet on the table. Her mom quickly yells at her, motioning to get it off the table. Daiyu grabs it and walks over to me, placing it on my leg, right on the stitches. I flinch and grimace. She giggles and quickly shifts it down. I bite my cheek, trying not to cry out in pain as my leg throbs. She runs her fingers over the cursive words that spell out Binky. She points to it.
"Binky," she sounds out slowly.
I nod.
"That's my callsign. My nickname. It's what my friends call me."
She tilts her head, her eyes slightly narrowing. Mei-Xing snorts.
"Is it because you are like lost, annoying child?"
"No! It's because I look like one."
I curl my lips and yank my eyes away.
That isn't much better, is it?
Daiyu traces her fingers over the helmet until she reaches the Trinity symbol on the back. She points to it and looks up at me with those joyful eyes of hers. I can see the question on her face.
"That's the Trinity symbol."
She looks to her mom for an explanation. Mei-Xing translates. Daiyu's mouth drops and twists up into a smile as she looks back at me.
"God?" she says as she points towards the sky. I smile and nod.
Yup, I think. God, who I'm pretty sure hates me.
She picks up the helmet and places it on her head. I don't understand how she's able to withstand the smell of that sweaty thing. The visor drops below her face, covering everything except her chin. She laughs and extends her arms, flapping them like a bird. "Pilot!" she exclaims. I can't help but to smile. I grab the visor and flip it up so she can see.
"Yeah, you're a pilot now, huh? A naval aviator in training?"
"My daughter will be no such thing!" Mei-Xing snaps. She jumps up and snatches my helmet off Daiyu's head. I catch it as she throws it into my chest. She shouts at Daiyu. Daiyu dips her head. I can see the tears swelling in her eyes. She then takes off and disappears into her room. "My daughter will never be a killer like you!"
I cock my head to the side and slam my helmet on the table. Her eyes narrow even more. They flick back and forth between me and the helmet. I can tell she absolutely loathes the fact that it's on the table.
"I'm not a murder—."
"How many of my people have you slaughtered? How many sons, husbands, and daughters have you downed? How many have you bombed?"
I open my mouth, but the words are stuck. For a second, I really don't know what to say. I've done two bombing missions in China. I know I've killed people. I obviously don't like to think about it, but I would be naive to deny it. I shake my head.
"It's...my job. I do what they ask of me...and it's nothing person—."
She stomps closer to me, her furious eyes filling with tears.
"It was personal to me when you took my son and husband away from me!"
"I didn't kill your family!"
"No, but they are dead because of you! Because of your people, of your country!"
"You don't think I've lost people too? People who were killed by your soldiers?"
"You know nothing of loss and hardship!"
My heart sinks as Blaze, Akio, Matrix, Dice, Hurricane, Ghost, SuperFly, Mom, and Dad all rush through my mind. I want to yell, to scream, and cuss at her, but I take a deep breath and force my voice to be steady.
"Akio, a nineteen-year-old kid, bled out in my arms. I watched Dice burn to death. Matrix...my best friend is dead because I wasn't good enough."
She clenches her jaw and, for freaking once, doesn't interrupt me. Her tears slip down her face. She furiously wipes her eyes with the back of her hands, still just glowering at me. "Everyone I have ever cared about has left my life one way or another. So don't ever tell me that I don't know what loss is."
I could've told her how my mom, dad, and family had left my life before the war had even started. But I definitely wasn't willing to swim those dangerous waters. I still refuse to cry in front of anyone, but that conversation might be enough to send me over the edge.
Her lips quiver as the tears continue to fall. She shakes her head and sniffles.
"I wish you had died in that gutter, and when we leave you in Mongolia, I hope you do die. I hope you never get to see your home again...just like I can't ever see mine."
She twists around and marches down the hallway, disappearing into her room. The door slams so hard that the whole house shakes. I lean back in my chair and sigh. I glance over at Cheung to see him chewing on a dumpling as if nothing just happened. He smiles at me and points to the two remaining dumplings on his plate.
"Good?"
I rest my elbows on the table and give him a thumbs-up.