orclosedinonbothsidesbyguardhousesandfences.AgroupofusstoodwaitingaftertheHongKongpoliceontheothersideofthebarbedwirehadtakenourpapersawaytobestudied.Theytookalongtimeoverit.Itwasmidsummer.TheHongKongpoliceman,aleantallCantonesewithmonstrousdarkglasses,lookedcoolandarrogantashepacedaroundinhisuniformandshorts,smartlybeltedandcreased.BesideusstoodtheCommunistsentry,around-cheekednorthcountryboyinrumpledbaggyuniform.Afteranhourinthehotsuntheyoungsoldiermutteredangrily,speakingforthefirsttime,"Thesepeople!Keepyououthereinthisheat.Gostandintheshade."Hejerkedhisheadatthepatchofshadealittledistanceback.Butnoneofuswouldlookathim.Wejustsmiledslightly,pressingclosetothewirefenceasifafraidtobeleftout.Still,foramomentIfeltthewarmthofracewashovermeforthelasttime.
ThatfatefulbridgehasoftenbeencomparedtotheNaihoBridgebetweentherealmsofthelivingandthedead.Likemostclich,itistruewhenyouexperienceityourself.Itmakesmeimpatienttohearwesternersquibbleaboutthefreeworldnotbeingreallyfree.Toobadthatmanyofushavetogobackoverthebridgewhenwecan'tmakealivingoutside.
IhaveanauntwhohasstayedinShanghaibecauseshecouldnotleavehernewhouse.Herson,justoutofcollege,joinedhisfatherinHongKongbutdidnotlikeitthere.Hewentbackin1952,justwhenIwasabouttoleave.HismothertookhimtohavehisfortunetoldoneeveningandIwentalong.Hewouldfindajobsoon,thefortunetellersaid.Buttheremightbetrouble.Hemightgotoprison.Thepredictionsoundedreasonableatthetime,withamovementonagainstbusinessmenandmanysuicidesandarrests.Theyoungishfortunetellerlookedlikeashopassistantinhisgabardinegown.IhadnoconfidenceinhimandresolutelyavoidedhiseyealthoughIneededbadlytohavemyownfortunetold.
MycousingotasmalljobinPekingaspredicted.Lifewashard,hewrotehismother.Getmarried,hismotherwroteback.It'stheonlywaytohavesomehappiness.Buthewasaquietboy,slowtomakeuphismind.TenyearslaterwhenIsawhisfatherinHongKongthistime,Iheardthesonhadwantedtogetoutagain.Checkinghisapplicationfor