Hi:

I love this story. In this chapter you get a little insight into the male character, Angelo.

The sisters dominate the following ones.


Chapter 7

into the valley of death

The one floor of the new building became encircled with yakking Fujianese. The volume of the rapid dialogue rivaled the speed and deafening racket brought about by their rushed assemblage. The eager expressions flashed across the faces of this hurried collection of anxious parents concerned the expected arrival of a young foreigner. Women dressed in an array of Western casual attire hovered around the numerous windows of the three room school house. The cinder block walls still showed the outline of dripped mortar used in the construction. This area of Zhenghe county appreciated this hasten erection of a much needed community center. Though bigger villages and of course the many developing metropolises located in this once ignored section of China did possess larger school buildings with a more extravagant esthetic façade, that condition did not damper the dreams of the gossiping women biding their time till the building would open. The bland and unfinished look of the People's English Language & Cultural School did not faze the eager mothers hoping for a better life for their children.

An American Teacher arrived the day before. The small hamlets dotting this region came alive with the news, as dreams of successful and rich children occupied their thoughts. They even entertained the idea that with a family member's knowledge of English, future migration of the entire clan to America would be guaranteed.

"English is the language of the world." The middle-aged woman stated with no reservation. Her salt & pepper hair wound in a bun on the top of her head, the usual style for someone working long hours maintaining the lucrative tea farms of the area.

"My Da Wei will be an accountant." Another mother with her child standing to the side spoke to a group of women. Sweat stains covered the cotton material around their armpits as the 95-degree heat of this early morning started to make its mark.

The small boy with a shaved head showing a week's sparse growth looked more interested in joining the game of tag being played in the empty field a few yards away.

"Da Wei, what do you want to be when you are older?" Long braids twirled as she spoke in a stern tone to the nine year-old. A brisk turn of her head sent a spray of perspiration splattering the child.

"I want to be an accountant and deal with international business." The well-rehearsed response brought many expressions of envy from the other mothers.

"My Ying Ying, she will be a doctor." The round-faced woman grabbed her daughter, a slip of a girl about ten. A gust of wind past the two, it looked as if the mother lunged for the slender child to prevent her from becoming airborne. An avalanche of declarations followed all dealing with their children's unbridled desire to succeed in business, or the hope that their own desires matched their offspring.

Angelo sat on the small bed. He waited for Li Tao, the slim balding Math teacher that welcomed him to China at the Xiamen airport. The slight drifts of air kept the room ventilated. Walls that were once white held a tinge of an antique-pale tone. A quick view of the spotting deterioration of the original color hinted at a long overdue repainting of the single room. The new occupant appreciated the five-drawer wooden chest. The dark brown shade possessed the unbeaten look of a modern piece of furniture. Though valued by the lodger, it still appeared out of place.

"Damn, this must have been a fortune?" He moved the drawers in and out. "Must have been a donation?" It did not take long for any visitor to this fast growing tourist locale to realize poverty at its fringes still existed.

"I better not disappoint them." He exhaled a burst of air under an expression lacking confidence. "I hope I don't embarrass myself." Closing his eyes, he sighed. "Yeah, I have been a real embarrassment in America. I hope that stops here." Janet's face appeared in his vision. "What a jerk I am." Thinking about their last meeting.

"Poor guy," a smile returned as he thought of his meeting with Tao at the airport. "He must have been scared?" Shaking his head, he remembered the shocked expression on the apprehensive teacher. Seeing this foreigner escorted by uniformed officers as he passed through a long line of travelers, Tao found it difficult to concentrate on the memorized questions he needed to ask the new instructor.

"At least we talked a little." A smirk took Angelo's expression. The thought of the uncomfortable ride, at least for his driver did increase his humorous recollection. "Hey, he understood my Mandarin," a grin appeared. "And I am a friendly guy." Speaking as if someone sat beside him on the bed. "Man, he was confused." Still smiling over the short conversation in the car, "I just couldn't make him understand."

Tao did not ask the question chiseled on his beardless face.

Why is this American handled as a dignitary? The police officers bid him goodbye as if a trusted confidant. Might he be an informer?

Angelo did not need to inquire about the thoughts of his official greeter. He knew such behavior by police authorities toward a visiting teacher quite unusual.

As a member of a Special Forces Team stationed in the Philippines, Angelo studied the military and political workings of the world's largest communist country. He knew the relationship between the government and its people still possessed a certain amount of tension, from both sides.

Wiping the sweat from his wavy black hair, the language teacher looked at the shine on his palm. Fujian in July can offer an oppressive humid climate. Today personified such a forecast.

"Damn," a short breath eased the growing fear arising in the new instructor meeting his students for the first time. "This heat reminds me," Angelo bit his upper lip. He tried to avoid anything that might remind him of that time and place.

"Afghan," a snort from his nose loosened the dry crust building since his arrival. "Iraq, that heat?" He reached for his wallet on the lone table by the single bed.

White sheets covered the new mattress, a special request by the small inn's owner for their newest boarder. A breeze lifted the pale-colored curtain as this moment of fleeting coolness disappeared. "This place is hotter than both together." Reaching across his body to dig long fingers into the crux of his shoulder. "Damn, I thought this heat would loosen it up." Referring to the large amounts of scar tissue covering his rotator cuff. Opening the brown wallet, Angelo heaved a sigh. "I guess nothings like the climate of the Philippines.

"My buddies," grinning as he looked at the three camo-faced soldiers huddled together for this shot. "Dave, Darcell and me," a short snicker ended this visit to the past. Dave lived in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The avid hunter found life as a civilian rewarding. Darcell, a native of Alabama served with the 173rd Airborne Brigade as a Company Commander. Search and Destroy missions in Afghanistan became more appealing than living in his hometown of Dolton. Explaining the reason for deciding on a career in the military, the tall lean dark-skinned young man stated. "After three tours in this armpit of the world, how can I go back to Dolton? People there still marvel at the internet."

Angelo opened the button of his white collared shirt. The short sleeves controlled the building perspiration sneaking out of his pores.

"I hope they go away soon." Rubbing his fingers over the raised scars, causing his left pectoral to take on the appearance of a piece of flesh-colored loose leaf paper he bit his upper lip again. "I know she must be worried about me. What people might think?"

A forced grin followed his words. Janet expressed more than once her opinion of his superficial wounds. An effect from a roadside bombing, that incident led to his award of the Silver Star. With a uniform full of blood, and a wounded comrade in tow, Angelo fought off attacking Al-Queda while dragging the soldier to cover. This deed accomplished while in the middle of intense enemy fire. "She doesn't notice this damn thing." The slip caused Angelo to stiffen. He never wanted to be reminded of the small hole in his back. Janet did not react to this blemish, as much as the scars. Angelo grew positive her apparent shame of the chest wounds was a fear of his emotional reaction should people at the Cancun shoreline stare at them.

"I know she still loves me. I guess, I just gotta understand." A squeaking serenade accompanied his hopeful wishes. The small bed rocked as he gained a new perspective on his on again off again engagement. "It'll all work-out." The assignment in China would be for the summer. He became positive her attitude toward their open relationship would change. Before he could enjoy this newfound optimism, he thought of the indented circle on his right shoulder blade.

"Mindanao?" An autonomous region for the Muslim population of the Philippines, it still remains part of that Asian republic. "Advisor?" He sneered the laugh thinking about his first assignment after completion of Special Forces training. "Some advisor?"

He decided to answer his own question.

"It was safer in damn Iraq." Another forced laugh as he thought of the Asian mission. Putting his head between both palms, Angelo bent from his stomach until his whole upper body rested on the muscular thighs. The picture in the scrambling thoughts of the war veteran did not show wind swept deserts stretched between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. His experience could have filled his mind with the horrors of a rocky climb up the hills of Chagai facing icy drops of rain as insurgents from neighboring Iran used modern sniper techniques in hopes of sending him home in a body bag. Clenched eyelids did not squeeze out from his blinded vision the lush vegetation and rising steam of a tropical rain forest. The sight of the abaca trees clouding the landscape better than any thick mist appeared to the man holding onto his head as if in fear of it falling to the floor. A chorus of rapid squeals shouted from the trembling bed. The piercing aria sung from the wood frame failed in drowning out the sound of dried eucalyptus bark cracking as a military boot stepped on a pathway of the discarded outer shell. Cinema in 3-D could not mirror the feel or sense of his recollections.

"No." He cringed at the sight of the swinging branch. It looked too real to ignore. Sweat dripped from his chin. Speeding drops of perspiration ran the course of his cheeks to the point of darkening faded areas of his blue-jeans as they collected on his upper thighs.

"The assignment with the Filipinos, it was supposed to be a reward for being an asshole hero."

Resting his drenched forehead on a moist palm, Angelo hoped this change of direction in life as an English Language teacher to primary school children in China might resurrect his relationship with Janet. Or at least replace the sickening flashbacks from the Philippines with the more acceptable memories of combat in Afghanistan, Iraq and of course the roadside bombing.

"Lao Shi?" Tao knocked at the white door waiting for the new teacher to answer.

"Parents are ready, sir." Spoken in a slow manner, Tao hoped the American could understand his Mandarin. The Fujianese native felt more comfortable speaking the local dialect. He feared appearing uneducated should his Mandarin accent become too coarse.

"Be with you in a minute." Angelo also decided to speak in unhurried tones. Language lessons presented many challenges to the young Italian-American. It caused great frustration in his immigrant mother. Try as she might, he could never retain any of her mother tongue. A two-month stay in a Manila hospital with an attractive Chinese nurse and the young SF Light-weapons NCO found himself listening to instructional CDs, devouring the difficult tonal language with great ease. At this time, those days seem distant and better off forgotten.

"Ok, Angelo don't be nervous." He whispered to himself. "I don't think Al-Queda is here." A smug laugh, "they're too damn scared of these guys."

Opening the door, he extended a hand to his new friend.

"Tao, you look more nervous than me." Gripping the damp white sleeve of the perspiring man. "I'm the one that'll get sent to the rice fields for the rest of the summer, if I stink as a teacher." He told his stunned assistant. This dialogue caused Angelo's constant memories to ebb.

The sweating figure before him smiled, aware of the well-known American sense of humor.

"Teacher, I think we both go." He whispered. "And here in Fujian, it would be a tea farm for me." A shy grin spread on Tao's mouth. His attempt at humor eased his nervous state.

Moving to the front door of the one floor unpretentious inn, Angelo smiled and thought, into the valley of death.

As the men walked the winding path to the new schoolhouse and the gaggle of parents waiting for their arrival, Angelo felt a casual mood overtake him. After all, he had visited this valley many times in the past.

And somehow managed to return.


Note to reader:

Our two main characters (for those familiar with the story...hang tight) will soon meet each other. You'll be able to feel the heat.

Thank you...GJ