The lives of the ordinary nobodies in the world, translated…
It’d been, not at all easy, getting the funds for my son’s school, and there was once when I couldn’t make the payments, and I’d discussed with my cohabiting girlfriend, to lend me some money, and that I will pay her back as soon as I receive my paycheck, but, she’d denied my asking, and added, “Why do I need to lend you the money for you to make up for your mistake?”
In the earlier years, I worked with my high school classmate, “Horny” close to New York City, he loved my son so, back then, my kid looked white in complexion, with rosy red lips, very smart and well-behaved, and was very articulate too. “Horny” kept wanting to have a son, but his wife just, don’t want any more children, and so, he’d transferred his love to my son. And, my son would holler out at him with great zest, “Godfather!”, and as Horny heard, he’d become so happy, and, held my son up, and played with him a lot, and he’d also, bought a ton of toys for him too.
The nicknames we’d received back in high school usually came from my inspirations, but, the nickname of “Horny” was given to my friend by our instructor. The middle school teachers in the early years of Taiwan all carried their thick accents, the real name of “Horny” was “Shih-Guo”, and once at roll call, a teacher called him “Horny” by mistake. And, there were, two other students’ names that were, mispronounced into ghostly things, and that, was how our high school, Chien-Guo High School became, “the High School with Many Ghosts”.
And every time I’d asked “Horny” to help babysit for my son, he’d immediately said yes without hesitation. That evening, I’d gone to pick my son up alone, and my son was already, fast asleep, I’d set him up in the child’s seat in the back, put the belts around him, and, Horny called me to the side and asked in a very low voice, “Are you having a huge fight with your wife?”
“The usual, not good, not bad, there would always be arguments.”
“Because your son asked me today, ‘would daddy leave and just never come back?’, my tears started falling as I heard him ask!” I couldn’t manage a word out. Horny told me, “this child is so filled with emotions, don’t fight in front of him, please!”
It’s not easy, as my wife is hardheaded, and everything must be done her way. With a child at home, there would be, so many things that needed to get done, she’d complained about how tiresome it was taking care of him, that she’s already developed a heart condition, diabetes, etc., etc., etc., but the results from her health exams were normal. In the end, what made me most angry was ever since she had our son, she’d refused to have sex with me, said it was too painful to give birth, that it’d, scared her so. I told her that contraception is easy, that it’s, no big deal, but she’d told me, when she thought about having sex, she’d felt scared, hoped I could understand.
Ahhhhhh! Other people’s marriages aren’t like this, I suppose! My Jewish coworker told me, that sleeping in the same bed, things would be easy. That there are rarely any cases of spousal rape that found the wives to win the cases in the U.S. But, how can I force such a thing, or maybe, it’s my libido that’s, kicked into overdrive then, fine, I’d, let it go then!
But, as young and vibrant as I, how, can I pass through the days? I’d taken it all in, to the point, that sex was all that’s in my thoughts, I’d started ranting, and, in my brains, there were, various positions of sex that I’d be having, with different women. The very first time I’d had an extramarital affair, I was so hurried to it, I’d just, mounted her, and my sex partner was shocked, she’d asked me, “how long since it’s been, a year?”, I’d slurred to her about it, actually, it’d been, two years since I’d had sex.
So, how can we not fight? We kept having conflicts, small ones every single day, and huge fights that broke out once every three days, and every five days, we’d, really gotten into it, and, all those words of anger that flowed didn’t pass through our brains first, and my son had, heard every single word of it. Dad was his biggest playmate, if one day, dad doesn’t come home anymore, it’d be his biggest fear turned, into reality, he’d asked his godfather secretively, that are things really going to turn out like that?
Hearing the warnings of Horny, I’d brushed it off, because back then, my mind was filled with getting the name and the fame, wanting to use my still young days, to make a fortune, to make my million U.S. dollars, to set the world my way, to make it rich, and then I shall, have NO more worries. And, the kid’s stresses, are, so miniscule compared to what was troubling me.
My son was six, when I left them both. It’s really difficult, for the fathers to gain custody rights in the U.S., ever since, the two of us couldn’t see each other often enough, and my son was in pain. Every year in the summers, he would come to California to live with me awhile, and I’d sent him off on flights back home right before school started, he’d cried so hard, until he was already twelve years old, he’d still cried when I wasn’t looking. And, I couldn’t handle it either in the airport, I’d pulled my hair so many times, and called myself bad names, and that I wish I could be dead soon, that being alive brings my loved ones a ton of pain. And the friend who accompanied my son back to the East Coast told me, that all the way, he’d been really, depressed; and my ex-wife would complain: every time our son came from you, he’d become so angry for at least two weeks, so easily agitated, and when I’d asked him, “how was your time with dad?”, he’d screamed out, “I don’t want to talk about it!”, are you and your girlfriend abusing him?
Where, do I begin? He’d played on, hung out in all the coolest places all day long, he’d become crazy when he’d stayed with me. And sure, my son doesn’t like my girlfriend, calls her his “top arch nemesis”. This, was from my son’s standpoint of defending his mother, believed, that she took his dad away. As we’d gone to a Japanese restaurant, my girlfriend introduced him to sashimi, he’d hated the smell, immediately spitted it out, and vomited on purpose, making the tables a mess, making it hard for us to be there. I’d taken my son into the restrooms to yell at him, we’d started screaming at one another. I’d told him, “if you choose to misbehave like this, then, you don’t come back to live with me anymore, because from here on out, I will, NEVER be with your mother again!” My son broke down, and leaned on my shoulders, cried really hard for a very long time. I had really, killed his hope, because he secretly believed and expected that mom and dad will eventually get along one day!
One year, there was a cast on my son’s left thigh, he’d limped as he got off the flight. What happened? The pitcher at the baseball game threw the ball off to the side and hit his left calf, he’d started rolling on the ground in pain, and, the X-ray showed a slight crack in his left tibia, that he’d needed a cast, to make sure it’d healed up completely. We’d spent a lot of time that summer, watching the televised games, and went to the field to see it too, and, he’d shown off the Major League baseball games to me. He said, that his coach said that he was a world class hitter, and make him a part of the school’s baseball team officially, as a hitter. Then, he’d, stopped, talking about baseball altogether, and, when I’d asked, he’d, slurred it, and as I pressed on, he’d become agitated, “Yeah, nobody cared for me!” “What are you talking about? The money for your uniform, I’d already sent.”
“You think money solves everything? My best friend, Sam’s family would come as a group, including his grandmother, to the games, cheering him on, when the coach pulled Sam off the playing field, his grandmother would yell at the coach, called him a ‘son-of-a-bitch retard!’”
“I will, go see you play.” “Oh yeah! What year will that happen?”
The coach told me, your son is an amazing shortstop, but he was injured by a ball that’s thrown at him hard intentionally, and he’d started, having a hitting phobia, he missed all of his hits, and can only be a second string player. And, having this hitting phobia, he’d needed to go to psychotherapy, and then, with someone practicing with him, to slowly, help him overcome his fear of the baseball getting thrown at him.
I’d set my son up for a private school that’s reputable on the East Coast: Friend’s Select School, it has a good humanities department, with strict disciplines, President Carter’s daughter graduated from the school, how can it be bad? And, the tuitions are very high too, close to the fees of the Ivy League Universities. And, it was hell, trying to round up the money for my son’s education, I’d had difficulties making the deadlines for payment, and, I’d consoled with my cohabiting girlfriend, to lend me some money first, that I will return the amount back to her as I received my paychecks, and she’d said no, and said, “Why do I need to borrow money, for you, to make up for YOUR mistake?”
My son became a mistake? That, was hurtful words all right.
My son is a not-so-good student from a good school. I’d received a letter from his school headmaster that said, “I hope you can make it out to the East Coast, I really want to discuss your son’s learning with you.” As I sat in the headmaster’s office, I’d felt uneasy, what, did this kid do this time? The headmaster was flipping through a scroll, then, lifted his head said, “He and his classmates soaked up the toilet papers in the restrooms, rolled it up like a baseball, and started playing catch, and, broken three windows, clogged up the toilet—during class hour, he’d climbed up to the tower, and rung the bell, shocked the entire school, the school wrote him up, and suspended him for two days.”
The headmaster wasn’t worried about this sort of childish behaviors of the teenage years, but your son showed a total lack of interest in learning, can’t focus in class, and just, wasted away, his precious youth away by the day, how, can we help him feel the joys in learning, that, is our primary task at hand. The headmaster said proudly, don’t worry, if he can graduate, he will surely enter into a good university, because we’re, an acclaimed high school.
Applying for college, he’d not done that well on the S.A.T.s, and the university I taught at accepted him, he was majoring in economics. We were both, really glad, we’d hauled a ton of things into his dorm, his roommate was a blonde-haired boy, Eddie, they became best of friends quickly. Eddie knew how to study, and taught my son how to get the key points, to pass his exams, the two of them were both in the Tae-Kwon-Do club, and, got really into practicing. And, when they have spare time, they’d done a ton of wayward things; dropping their pants, light a lighter close to their asses, and just waited, to see whose fart will make the flames longer, then, wrote down their conclusions of, “Farts are a combustable gas!”, I too, contributed, I’d called my son into my office regularly, and forced him to do the calculus practice problems of a first year economics student, and his grades stayed between A- and B+.
We didn’t have a lot of time to share, the very next year, I’d quit teaching, and focused on my filmmaking career. And, my son was once again, all alone, he’d made good grades and bad ones, but, he’d improved in Tae-Kwon-Do, in the phones, he’d told me, that after one more strict test, he will be a black-belt.
I’d gone on scene in China for multiple months, and received a letter from my son, such a rare occasions, he’d rarely, written to me, it had a yellow note attached with, “dad, I got on the school newspapers, you should be proud of me.”
The front page of my son’s school paper had my son’s headshot, it’d, shocked me! He was covered in blood, with one of his eyes so puffy, with his lower lips split, his cheekbones became bruised; the reports said, So-and-So Wang, a junior in the Econ department stopped three students from getting loud in the libraries, got into physical altercation, Wang fought off all three students, the campus security was there right on time. The school is commending Wang’s behavior.
And back then, it was, hard to make the calls from the countryside of China overseas, and finally I’d gotten connected, the phone call was on and off, knowing that he wasn’t, hurt badly. And, as I’d gone to the States, I’d heard him told me the whole story:
“Three misbehaving Vietnamese kids, started screaming aloud in their language, after I’d consoled them to be quiet, they’d, given me this, nasty stare. And, as I walked out of the library, one of them came at me from behind, I’d fallen to the ground and broke my face. The three of them ganged up on me, and, my Tae-Kwon-Do instincts kicked in, I’d taken two steps back, and fly-kicked them, they fell, one by one!”
“Don’t get into these sorts of business again! I’d sent you to Tae-Kwon-Do, not for you to beat someone up.”
“If I didn’t take Tae-Kwon-Do, would I be, talking with you right now?”
“Okay then! Dad should take you on vacation to Taiwan for Christmas this year!”
My son was so happy, he loved going to Taiwan to play.
On a snowy day, we’d set out at the airport in New York for Taiwan. The flights were delayed for a long time, I’d become, too fatigued, and, as the flight took off, I’d gotten, into a half-comatose state. My son spoke sporadically to me, “don’t know if I will get to graduate next year, I’m not at all interested in Economics, should I transfer to the law department?”
“I will support you if you keep going to school.”
“Or maybe, I should, move in with Helen first! I really long for, a stable home, to go home, with someone there, to listen to how my day went.”
“Where did this Helen come from? Isn’t is Jennifer?”
“When I was too young, you’d run out—as my college career had begun, you’d, off to shoot your movies again———”
“It’s not that way, there are so many things we’re all, not in control of………”, I was too tired to even speak anymore.
“Dad, I don’t blame you, I understand you too well, it is, impossible, living with mom—but if you’d, waited until I was in high school then left———”
Such a blessed thing, for a new life to come, definitely, NOT a mistake; but, I who is responsible for welcoming in this brand new being, am I, prepared?
So, you do see how, this son is once again, repeating the fate of his own father, right? And, perhaps, because this young man grew up without his father around until he was in college, he’ll stick around his own young child while s/he is growing up, who knows, but, chances will be, that fate won’t work with the person, because sons are destined to become, JUST like their fathers, and even IF the sons realized what their fathers had done was bad or wrong, and told themselves, that they will NOT repeat the mistakes of their fathers, they’re still, more than prone, to walk in their own fathers’ footsteps…