Character sketch no.2

Tuesday, October 29, 2013
1020, 3U C-class counter

This is the young man that came to study in the first year of university. He came here as a scholar--unable to get into Ivy but still /better/ than the rest of his graduating class in China, he had to settle for UBC. He studies hard, rests none; yet the feeling doesn't go away. It's the feeling he gets when he eats a sour plum, a drilling sensation from the inside out; the feeling he gets when he hears nails, metal or bad quality chalk scratching down the chalkboard at his part-time tutoring place; the feeling he gets when he remembers that it didn't have to be this way, that he needs to prove them wrong, that he shouldn't have to prove anything, that Mom is waiting. Here he stands, sending Mom back after saving couch-lost coin amounts for three years to sponsor her two-week stay...and the luggage is overweight. The frustration, hurt, anger and unwanted shame finally congregate, and the one look he sends Mom's way is enough to make her cower in apology for her self-deemed ignorance. But her reaction sends him into another loop-de-loop of guilt. He gingerly ushers her and the open suitcase overflowing with health supplements from Superstore to the side, away from the audience in the check-in queue.

At security, he doesn't hug Mom. Mom doesn't hug him either, it's not customary and it's awkward and it's needed. Instead, she doesn't let go of his hand as they turn to face each other and face goodbye. Tears well up in her eyes as she thinks of another three years without seeing her brave little warrior and the strangeness and cold desolution of a land he currently lives in. He notices suddenly the fields of white hair creeping from her scalp, the pencil sketches of time engraved on her face. As he gives her a tart smile and eye glimmer, he pulls her luggage and hands the boarding pass to the FasTrack agent. She walks in, looking back every 2.7 steps until the frosted glass overpowers their sight and hearts. In the last glance she couldn't read his expression as he stood resolute behind the secure panel, it was either determination or despair. He didn't really know what his expression meant either, but he knew that the interpretation he chooses will define his future, the rest of his life.