My Asian Dragon

Chapter 5

Joy wiped her sleeve across her forehead. She had been tasked to work in the vegetable fields today, and had spent the past four hours working on her hands and knees, carefully weeding in between the rows, making sure the field was as pristine as possible.

She wasn’t alone, there were four other people with her. Two of them were members of Yingtai’s family, while the other two were older children from the school. Longwei had a policy of letting the children help out in the fields one day a week, in order to let them get hands on practical experience as well as academic learning. “Besides,” he had explained to her, “the fresh air and exercise is very useful for their bodies.”

Joy didn’t know about the educational benefits, but she did enjoy the outdoor work. The villagers had a very unique style, while perhaps not the most efficient in the short term, ensured that everyone moved around on a regular basis, avoiding the dreaded crouching posture that she had seen so many other poor Asian farmers adopt. Few if any of the older women in the village had the bowed osteoporosis laden body she had seen even in Shanghai.

Looking up the row, Joy saw the large barrel on a cart that served as their watering point. The oxen used for pulling the cart were gone, but would be brought back later. She got up off the ground, exchanging waves with the other people in the field. She still had problems speaking much more than basic Mandarin, but she thought her ears were finally becoming attuned to the local dialect. She could understand some of the basic greetings and words, and was grateful to the school children who had sort of adopted her as one of their own. Two of the students, a boy named Dewei and a girl named Ming had worked with her almost every day, slowly and carefully pronouncing words in storybooks and around the classroom for her. She copied, making many mistakes, but was making progress.

At the water barrel, Joy dipped in her cup and took a deep drink of the clear water. It was another thing she had quickly gotten used to. Even without the so-called benefits of modern water treatment plants, the water from the wells in the village was pristine. Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, Joy blinked. Coming out of the forest, across the field, were two men, neither of which Joy had seen before. Squinting, she was sure something was going on, as both men were dressed in what looked like camouflage tactical gear. Joy looked around, and called to one of the other people in the field with her. “Hey!”

One of the other field workers, a young man, looked up. Joy waved, and pointed at the two men approaching from out of the forest. “Longwei!” she yelled, pointing and gesturing. “Get Longwei!”

The man didn’t know what the word ‘get’ meant, but he followed her pointing, and upon seeing the two strangers, scrambled to his feet. He took off running back towards the main body of the village, while the other three people stood up.

Joy was shocked when the two strangers, upon seeing their approach had been discovered, pulled out automatic rifles, firing on the group. The villagers screamed, and Joy felt instincts she hadn’t used in years kick in, the instincts developed in the poor Washington DC streets, and she dove for cover behind the cart, making sure to keep the wheels between her and the attackers. Glancing out from behind her cover, she saw as the attackers made their way towards them. Luckily, nobody was hurt in the initial burst of gunfire, and Joy was thankful to see the other three villagers scampering away as fast as they could.

Unfortunately for her, she saw the two gunmen making their way towards her. She looked around desperately, looking for anything she could use to keep the gunmen away or distracted while she ran away. However, the only thing she could see were a couple of farm tools, small hand held scythes they used for cutting stubborn weeds, and a hoe that could be used if necessary. Neither was enough to allow her to defend herself against gunmen with automatic weapons.

Peeking out again, she saw the gunmen were now halfway across the fields. Confident in their prey, they were walking casually, not rushing into any situation. One of them pointed his rifle at Joy, so she ducked back behind cover before he could squeeze off any fire in her direction. Getting to her knees, she dug her toes into the dirt, bracing her left foot against the cart’s tire. While she wasn’t a track star, there was no way she was going to just sit there and let the gunmen come and slaughter her.

Joy came into a crouch, her knuckles in the dirt, and took a deep breath. With an internal yell, she sprinted away from the cart, keeping herself low and using the cart for as much cover as she could. After two seconds, she cut to her right, starting to zig-zag her way across the field she was in towards the village. She heard the rattling bark of gunfire, and dove, rolling as she did before pivoting and sprinting the other direction. She saw a berm in the field ahead, and dove behind it, just as automatic fire chewed up the ground she was hiding behind.

Joy’s breath was liquid fire in her throat, the exertion of the all out sprint combined with the fear sent her heart rate through the roof. She regretted not wearing her running shoes today of all things, choosing instead one of the pairs of sturdy work boots she had picked up the habit of wearing in the two weeks since Billy had brought her back. At least this wasn’t the first day I wore these, she thought. I never would have made it then.