San Francisco Boy

  Pretending to be busy writing, Felix glanced now and then at the book on his lap. Reading a comic was easy—and funny too! The people did such crazy things. They leaped on horses and crossed high mountains. They jumped off steep places without getting hurt, they even rode rockets to the moon! They were always defending themselves against wicked enemies.

  Suddenly, Felix came back to earth with a thud. He felt a ruler slap sharply across his shoulders. The comic book was whisked away and thrown into the waste basket. A volley of Chinese words woke Felix from his dream. All the pupils were looking at him and tittering.

  “Seventy-eight is your highest mark in writing, Felix Fong, sixty your lowest,” Mr. Ling was saying. “Now you must do ten more pages of tracing for punishment.”

  Felix groaned. He could say nothing in his defense. He wished he had not taken the book from Sammy Hong, but it was too late now. There was nothing to do but stay after school and finish the ten extra pages.

  When he came out of school at last, it was eight o’clock. He heard the clock in St. Mary’s church steeple striking. Chinese school lasted from five to seven-thirty. School, school, all a boy’s time must be spent in school. Public school from eight-thirty to three-thirty, then Chinese school on top of it. Would he ever be a scholar like his father?

  Eight o’clock, nearly dark, and a cold wind blowing. Fog coming in from the bay. The city seemed always cold and rainy. The other boys had all gone home. But even if they were still there, or in the public playground on Sacramento Street, they were all strangers to him. Felix felt lonely and miserable.

  He walked slowly along the street, uphill again. San Francisco was all hills. Home again—Mother and Mei Gwen and the little ones would have come back from the factory long ago. Supper would be over. Would they save something for him? Some left-over food for him to eat? Home again—would he ever feel at home in the damp, strange, noisy city?

  He ran all the way up the three flights of stairs. He opened the apartment door with his key and went in. Father and Grandmother Yee were talking in the front room. Grandmother Yee, who lived with Aunty Kate, had come for the evening. She was short and plump, and always wore a black Chinese costume. She sat on the davenport knitting, never idle for a minute.

  “My son,” said Father, frowning. “Why are you so late?”

  Felix hunted for words to explain.

  “I have told you many times,” said Father, “that if my sons look at, buy, or bring into my house a comic book, they will be severely punished. Since Mr. Ling has already punished you, I shall not do so. But you must understand that a comic book is an insult to one’s artistic taste, a destroyer of moral sense and a lesson in evil ways. Such things you are to shun throughout life. If you do your work in school hours, you will not have to stay in. I will give you one more chance.”

  The smell of good food came to Felix from the kitchen. He greeted Grandmother and went out. There at the table sat the baby, little Susie, two years old. She held her rice bowl in one hand and her tiny chopsticks in the other. She stopped eating long enough to look up and smile at Elder Brother. He bent over and kissed her cheek.

  There was plenty of food left on the table. Mother spoke to the boy and poured out a cup of tea. Felix could hear the little boys in the middle room wrestling and boxing on the bunk beds. Before he sat down to eat, he washed his face and hands at the kitchen sink. Looking up, he glanced out the back kitchen window. Over the rooftops of thousands of white-walled buildings, night lights were shining like stars in the sky. Felix had never seen the bay so deep a blue before. Across it he could see the arching Bay bridge outlined in lights. Suddenly, for one short moment, his homesickness vanished. San Francisco was beautiful! He had never thought of it before.

  Would he ever learn to love it?

  CHAPTER II

  A Friend and a Job

  “Come on, let me in your game!” begged Felix.

  “Naw, we don’t want you. Go on away!” shouted Roger Loy.

  Felix watched the boys playing baseball. He knew all their names now, but they never included him. He sat on the curb outside the public playground. Whenever the ball went over the high wire fence, he dodged through traffic, got it and threw it back. Sammy Hong, the boy who sat across the aisle in Chinese school, kept batting the ball over the fence.

  Another high one went over.

  “Go get it, Felix!” called Sammy.

  But Felix was tired of being outfielder.

  “Go get it yourself!” he answered. He walked into the playground and took up the bat, just as if his turn was next.

  But the boys threw rocks at him and chased him out. Felix had a bunch of firecrackers in his pocket. He lighted them and threw them into the yard. They popped all over the place. The boys said, “Let’s chase him.” Felix ran away and they let him go. When they started their game, Felix crept back again.

  While they were busy yelling, he took a long thin rope out of his pocket and tied it across the open gate. Then he hid behind the gatepost. Roger Loy came running out to get the ball. He did not see the string, so he tripped over it and fell. Felix ran away laughing. He looked back and made funny faces at Roger. The boys were tired of chasing him now. The ball game broke up and they stood talking together. Now and then they looked in his direction. He knew they were hatching up some mischief. He decided he had better clear out.

  There was nothing to do but go home. Felix was hungry. He had to get something to eat before he went to Chinese school. He would be starved if he waited until after seven-thirty. Father would feed him at the restaurant if he went there, but he did not want to see Father. He could not tell Father that the boys would not let him play baseball. Father had said to him, “Get out there and play.” When he told Father how mean the boys were, Father answered, “A Chinese boy has to learn how to protect himself.” No—he did not want to talk to Father just now.

  He’d rather go home, even though Mother was not there and the house was empty. Mei Gwen had taken Frankie and Freddie to the jeans factory after school as usual. There she had to be baby sitter to them and baby Susie and seven or eight others, the children of the women workers. Felix was glad he was not a girl. He’d hate to be a baby sitter all his life.

  He unlocked the door and went into the apartment. The odor of damp clothes came to him. His mother had risen early that morning and done the washing before she left for work. Some of it was drying in the kitchen. The clotheslines on the roof did not hold it all. The front room was part parlor and part bedroom. It had a cot for Mei Gwen, a crib for Susie and a davenport that opened into a double bed for Mother and Father. The middle room was where the boys slept. It had a cot and a double bunk bed. The boys took turns sleeping on top. The kitchen was small and crowded. It had a gas stove, cupboards on the wall and a round table for eating. The icebox was on the tiny back porch.

  The apartment was quiet and cheerless. Felix found some fish and rice in a steamer on the stove. He gulped the food down. It was only four o’clock—too early to go to Chinese school. Home was a terrible place with nobody in it. He walked through the hall and went out the front door, snapping the lock behind him.

  He went slowly down the stairs. Passing the doors of the other apartments, he could hear voices. The man and woman in No. 4 were quarreling again. The little girl in No. 3 was crying. The door of No. 1 opened and old Mr. Wong came out. He had a skinny beard and wore a black skullcap. He leaned on his cane and talked to himself as usual. He did not see Felix at all.

  The boy sat awhile on the front doorstep, watching the people and cars that passed. He felt friendless and alone. He remembered the good friends he had left behind in Alameda. There was Johnny Lew, and Jack Bailey the American boy, the three Wing boys, and Timmy who often came to visit his grandparents next door. There was always someone to play with, there was always something to do.

  Felix looked down the street. Soon he saw Roger Loy coming. Roger had a stack of papers under his arm. Roger had a job—he was a paper boy. He had
to deliver the Call-Bulletin to customers in stores and apartments.

  Why couldn’t he make a friend of Roger, Felix wondered. How could he make him a friend? He had just tripped Roger up on a rope. That was not a very good start. What could he do now to make Roger forget it?

  All at once he remembered the motto on the paper in the Fortune cookie—It is better to keep a friend than to have a dollar. But how do you make a friend in the first place? What is yours belongs to your friends. To make a friend, give him a gift. Where had he heard these sayings? From Father? Mother? Grandmother? He had been told them so often, they were a part of him now. Maybe they were a part of that “Chinese heritage” his parents were always talking about. Did those old sayings mean anything? Could he put them to use? If Roger Loy hated him, could he make him his friend? Could he share things with him, give him something of his very own, not something that would cost a lot of money—because his mother would have to earn it—but just some little thing?

  Roger Loy was coming closer. He went into some of the doors, left a paper and came out. He came to the door of Felix’ apartment house, glanced at Felix sitting on the doorstep, then up the steps he bounded. He had to take a paper to No. 5 on the third floor. He would be down again in a minute. It was now or never.

  What can I give him? Felix thought quickly, as he felt in his pockets. All he had was a pack of firecrackers, which Uncle Fred had given him, and he had intended keeping until Chinese New Year. He wanted them himself, but he knew well that a gift is not a gift if it is something you want to get rid of. When Roger came down the stairs, Felix held the firecrackers out and smiled at him. It was a gift any Chinese boy would like. Roger looked at him in surprise.

  “You didn’t shoot them all off, then?” he said.

  “No,” said Felix. “I saved these for you.”

  Roger put them in his pocket and grinned in a friendly way. He wasn’t mad at all. The tripping up at the playground was forgotten.

  “How’s the paper business?” asked Felix.

  “Hard work,” said Roger. “I have four blocks to take care of and thirty-two papers to deliver. They are so heavy to carry, I work fast to get rid of some of the load.”

  “Could I help you?” asked Felix.

  Roger looked at him in surprise. He thought for a minute. “You mean you want a job?”

  “Yes,” said Felix.

  “I need somebody to take my route when I get sick,” said Roger, “and I’d like company when I’m well. I was wondering whom I could ask.”

  “I have nothing to do every day after American school is out,” said Felix, “until Chinese school at five. Sometimes my father makes me come to his restaurant and wash dishes, but I’d rather help you.”

  “I’ll speak to my route manager,” said Roger, “and let you know tomorrow.”

  Felix had good news for the family the next night. He had a new friend and a new job. Father was very pleased. Mother, who never had much to say, smiled her approval. When the last grain of rice had vanished from the rice bowls and the chopsticks were laid aside, Father lectured the children on good manners at home and in public. This was the true preparation for job responsibility, he said. The children listened in silence, as the words sank in deeply.

  The days passed more quickly now. No longer did Felix loaf around the public playground or beg the other boys to let him enter their games. As soon as public school was out, he met Roger Loy at the corner of Grant Avenue, where they received their papers from the newspaper truck. Felix went with Roger every day at first to learn the route. It was hard, as Roger had said, because there were so many stairs to climb, especially on Stockton Street. The boys had to leave the papers right beside the doors of offices, factories and apartments.

  As soon as Felix learned the route, Roger let him take it alone one day. It was different without Roger. Felix had not realized what a cheerful, lighthearted boy Roger was. When together, the boys were always laughing and joking. Without Roger, there was no fun at all.

  Felix started into an alley where he had two customers. The sun had begun to set and it threw dark shadows across the alley. Felix saw a queer-looking woman digging into a garbage can beside a dark doorway. Cats crowded about her. From a wire shopping cart, she took paper plates on which she placed fish and other food. Meowing cats came up to eat off the plates. The Cat Lady looked at Felix and smiled.

  “The cats are happy if they have plenty to eat,” she said.

  Felix felt sorry for the cats, but the bright glint in the old lady’s eyes made him uneasy. He shivered and felt spooky, so he hurried on. He dropped one paper in front of a doorway, then went to the next.

  Joe Hong’s door was three steps down. The place looked closed and there was no light. Felix knocked, for Roger had told him to collect. No answer came, so he started to leave the alley. The Cat Lady was gone now, but the cats were still eating the food she had given them. Uncertain what to do, Felix ran back to Joe Hong’s again. Still no light, still no answer. Should he leave a paper or not? What would Roger say if he did not collect? Joe Hong owed for two weeks already. While he was waiting, the door suddenly popped open. There stood Joe Hong, a sharp, thin little man with a frown.

  “Why are you so late, boy?” he demanded. “Why can you not come on time?”

  Felix blinked in surprise. He dared not say he had knocked twice before. He knew he must be polite. If a boy has good manners, he does not keep his elders waiting. He always treats his elders with respect.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Hong,” said Felix. “I will bring it earlier tomorrow.”

  The man went in and closed the door behind him.

  Felix was glad to get out to the street again. Neon lights were blinking off and on. Cars were honking and people shouting. For once he liked the glare and noise. It was better than the dark alley. Policeman Mike walked by, swinging his club and whistling an Irish tune.

  Felix stopped at the outdoor wall-shop at the corner. The shop was made up of shelves built against the outside wall of a building, closed at night with wooden shutters. In a little box-like booth, Mr. Chew sat on a stool reading a Chinese newspaper. He read the Call-Bulletin, too, and reached for the paper Felix handed out.

  “You new boy,” said Mr. Chew. “You feel good today?”

  Felix nodded and smiled. Mr. Chew sold candies, fruits, souvenirs of all kinds, books and notions. He leaned over and gave Felix a handful of lichee nuts. Felix grinned and said, “Thank you.”

  He went into the next office building and hurried up the stairs. Would his legs ever get used to all the steps? No wonder Roger complained. The hallway was dark with only a dim light burning at the end. Felix could hardly see where he was going. He wanted to get out quickly. He hurried so fast that he tripped over a door mat and fell. He came down hard on his wrist.

  The office door opened and an American businessman nearly stepped on him. “What’s this?” he said. “Did you fall? Are you hurt?”

  “Not much, thank you,” said Felix. The man helped him to his feet. “I guess I’m O. K.”

  He rested a bit and went on to three more buildings. In each he had to go up long flights of stairs. It took him so long he was late for Chinese school and had to stay in again. That night he did not get his big dinner until nearly nine o’clock and he had to eat all alone.

  Roger was very particular about the weather. He did not like rainy days at all, and always wanted Felix for company. The boys both wore raincoats and rain hats. They took shopping bags to put their papers in. They had to be careful to keep the papers dry, for nobody wanted to get a wet paper.

  One dark, rainy day, Roger did not show up. Felix knew he must be sick, because he never failed to come whenever it was raining.

  Felix started out bravely. He went into several office buildings. He tried to tell himself it was better to be inside where it was dry than outside where it was wet. But it was dark in the halls and the sound of the rain beating against the windows frightened him. Although he hated to admit it,
he was scared in the dark and had told Roger so. He watched the rain pounding on the window and could not make up his mind to go outside. If only Roger had come to keep him company!

  As he stood there, he thought of Alameda. He remembered a storm there long ago, when Freddie was little. The Fong family were all sleeping soundly in one big room. Suddenly, in the middle of the night, there was a rushing noise—thunder, rain and lightning all at once. Felix’ bed was near the window and he woke up scared. He jumped, as lightning flashed across the room. He saw his mother get up, tuck the covers in around the younger boys, then go back to her bed. She did not know that Felix was awake.

  Felix could not sleep. He saw shadows on the wall and they looked like terrible faces to the boy. He heard the clock go tick tock, tick tock, and he was very frightened. How happy he was when daylight came. The shadows disappeared, the storm was over, and everybody woke up. Felix wasn’t scared any more and felt better. When he told his mother about his fright, she said a storm was nothing to worry about.

  Now, walking in the dark office building, the boy heard the rain beating against the windows so hard he could not see out. The sound brought back all his old fears. He walked slowly on. Suddenly he thought people were following him. He turned and looked—they were hiding round a corner. He walked faster, then started to run. They were after him again. He dropped his papers and rushed down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he heard a loud laugh. Taking courage, he looked up the stairs behind him. There on a landing stood Roger, doubled up with laughter.

  “Oh, Felix!” he cried. “It’s only me! I was just trying to fool you.” He came running down with Felix’ bag of papers. “What did you drop your papers for?”

  Felix’ face was white and he could hardly speak. At last he said, “Please don’t scare me any more, Roger.”

  “I did it on purpose,” said Roger, “because I know you are scared in the dark. I want you to stop being so silly.”