Colors of the Mountain Read Online Free

decision on his part, and had me lead the revolutionary songs at the beginning of every lesson. I was that 1-percent exception in our harsh reality. I was never supposed to be a leader among other students. I was born with a political defect that no one could fix. But once in a while they threw a bone out to us, a bone that we chased around with enthusiasm. I was grateful for this bone. I played with it, poked it with my snout, and cherished every moment of being tempted before I sank my teeth into the juiciest part.
    I’d arrive early with the teacher and hit the books. In my spare time,I helped the slower students catch up. I was the captain of our basketball team and a formidable singer in school-wide competitions. Once I sang so loud that I was hoarse for the next three days. I read classical stories to the whole room, while my teacher sat in the back and graded the homework, stopping occasionally to nod with approval.
    Late in the afternoons, my new friends—Jie, Ciang, and a few others—would urge me to tell them some more stories. We would climb over the short wall in the back of our school and throw ourselves into an ancient orchard. It was a little paradise.
    Our spot was a huge lychee tree with low-hanging boughs. Each of us had a favorite sitting spot. Mine had a back support and a small branch to rest my feet on. The comfort helped the flow of the story. Sometimes Jie would rub the soles of my feet, which was good for another twenty minutes. And each time I threatened to end the story they would beg for more and more, and I would have to stretch my imagination and make a short story longer and a long story go on forever.
    My popularity went unchallenged till one day a big-eyed boy showed up at our door for late registration. I hated to admit it, but he was good-looking. He was there for five minutes and the girls were already giggling at his sweet smile and nasty winking. During break, I sat in my seat, heaving with anger and contempt for this sudden intruder. I contemplated the proper step to take. I thought of going to him and introducing myself as the leader of the class. It was, after all, my territory, and I deserved a certain courtesy and respect from him. You can’t just walk in and ruin everything. If he was a decent man (my keen observation of him during the last hour made me feel this was unlikely) then I would give my blessing, offer my protection, and help him settle in on our turf. I was, after all, a nice guy with a big heart. I welcomed any bright man as my friend, but no way was I going to walk up to him and shake hands. He was surrounded by a fan club, admirers who were fawning over something he was wearing. The girls lingered and giggled. The place was out of control.
    As I burned with jealousy, a negative feeling that as a leader I tried hard to suppress, the hotshot kid broke through the crowd and walked over. He looked straight at me with those attractive, intelligent eyes ofhis. At that moment, my heart softened. No wonder the girls had lost their minds. I couldn’t help being impressed by the clarity and sense of purpose in his eyes, that straight nose, so sculptural and defined, and that square, chiseled jaw. Had he been a general, I would have followed him into battle and fought until the end.
    I stood up with what little dignity I had left and extended my hand to meet his. We shook hands. That was when I saw the buckle. He had this shining buckle the size of a large fist that he wore around his waist. There were five stars carved on it. It shone in the morning sun, obviously the result of a lot of polishing by a proud hand.
    “I heard you’re the
Tau-Ke.
” The top man. His diction was imaginative.
    “Hardly, hardly.” High praise called for a humble response, but I was flattered nonetheless.
    “I think this would look really good on you.” He took his belt and buckle off and handed them over to me, just like that.
    “No, no. You wear it.”
    “I’ve been wearing it since my