Chapter 1

Religion didn’t play an important role in my home. My parents weren’t religious, and even if they had been, they never had the time to tell me about it. Still, it became a very important part of the most exciting time of my youth.

I wasn’t conceived by mistake; a married couple were supposed to have kids, and my parents were awfully conventional. They were also very, very ambitious, and by the time I was born, they must have figured out that they didn’t really have the time needed to bring up a kid, if they were going to look after their careers.

So, they hired a young girl to look after me. She was replaced by another young girl, and so on. From about the age of four, I can begin to remember the girls. I remember them better than I remember my parents from back then. There were many a day when I didn’t see my parents at all. They went to work before I got up and didn’t come home until after I was put to bed.

My parents really loved me and cared about me. I’m sure they did, in their own way. But career and material wealth were what mattered. The only kind of parental guidance I got from them was about correct behaviour in the presence of adults, and that knowledge was important. Naturally, I was spoiled rotten. I got more or less everything I asked for. Actually, I didn’t need to ask for anything; I just got it.

The only thing I didn’t get was a playmate. We lived in a very fancy neighbourhood, and I was practically the only kid for miles around. The rest of the houses were occupied by wealthy, middle-aged couples with grown-up children or no children at all.

I think you pretty much get the picture now. A boy brought up by young girls, with no contact with other kids. A sissy little boy, slightly nerdy and shy in the company of other children.

This was the situation until I was six. Then I learned that I was going to start attending school. I was terrified, to say the least. The mere thought of school scared me to death. Having to leave my safe, protected environment and go to a place filled with strange children seemed to me to be the ultimate nightmare.

Mom and Dad sensed my fear, and one evening, they said they had something to talk to me about.

“You know, Dan, you have a cousin, Annie. I don’t think you remember her; I hardly do myself,” my mom began.

“I remember Uncle Paul,” I said enthusiastically. He was my father’s brother, and he had visited us a couple of times over the past two years.

“Yes, Uncle Paul and Aunt Emma. They have a daughter, Annie. She’s the same age as you and is going to begin school this fall, too. Uncle Paul wants her to go to the same school as you, so she’s going to come and stay with us,” Mom said.

“Here? In our house?” I asked, startled. “What about Uncle Paul?”

“He and Aunt Emma have to stay in China. Uncle Paul’s job requires him to stay there, and Aunt Emma prefers to stay with him.”

I must have looked a little disappointed. I loved Uncle Paul. He had been stationed in China for as long as I could remember, and when he came to visit, he always played with me and had given me some fantastic things from China.

“Uncle Paul will follow her over here from China. It’s a long trip, too long for a child to take on her own,” Mom added.

“When will they be here?” I asked, excited.

“In three days. We’ll pick them up at the airport,” Dad replied.

The next three days passed slowly. I didn’t like the thought that Annie was going to come and live with us. But I really wanted to see Uncle Paul. Finally, it was Saturday evening, and we were waiting at the airport. My eyes were glued to the doors where the arriving passengers came out.

And then suddenly, they were there. There was a lot of confusion. Everybody was saying hello and embracing, and I was kind of left out, until a little girl poked me in the side.

‘You must be Dan,’ she said. ‘I’m Annie. I’m going to live with you.’

I stared at her, at the red-haired, freckled girl. I don’t know what I had expected. A Chinese girl perhaps.

‘Eh, hi,’ was all I could say.

‘Dad says you’re a nice boy. He said we were going to give you a present when we arrived.’

Annie handed me a little parcel. I looked at it.

‘Aren’t you going to see what it is?’ Annie asked impatiently.

‘Maybe I should wait until Uncle Paul and my mom and dad can see it too.’

Annie shook her head.

‘They’re too busy talking,’ Annie said matter-of-factly.

I wasn’t sure it was the correct thing to do, but Annie somehow sounded very convincing, so I began unwrapping the gift. Inside was a cardboard box with Chinese letters on it. Excited, I opened the box and very cautiously took out the contents. It was a radio; a tiny, tiny radio. I had never seen anything like it before. I was used to big radios. The smallest radio I had seen up to then was a transistor radio, the size of a shoebox. This was more like the size of two matchboxes. I was thrilled beyond my wildest expectations.

‘It’s a radio. My dad says it’s the kind of radio they are going to use when they send a man to the moon,’ Annie said.

‘Wow.’

‘I got one too,’ Annie said.

‘Can we talk with them too?’ I asked.

‘No, you can only listen.’

I tried to turn it on.

‘You have to put the batteries in,’ Annie said.

I looked in the box again, and there were two batteries and a little earplug. Soon, the batteries were in and the radio turned on. It took a little while to get anything but static, but suddenly, loud music sounded from the tiny speaker.

Suddenly, the grownups all looked at Annie and me.

‘What on earth is that?’ Mom exclaimed and then added: ‘Turn it down for God’s sake.’

‘It’s a radio, Mom. When they send a man to the moon, Annie and I can hear him,’ I said excitedly.

‘Well, let’s see if they can get a man up there first, shall we?’ my dad said, smiling.

That was ‘66, I was seven years old, and I was in heaven. Annie showed me how to use the earplug, and we sat together on the back seat of the car listening to our radios all the way home. All my fears about Annie coming to live with us were gone. I’d found a friend.

When we got home, the grownups went to the living room, and I showed Annie around the house. I ended the tour in her room.

“This is your room. Do you like it?”

Annie looked around the room.

“It looks nice. What’s behind that door?” Annie asked and pointed.

“My room. You have to go through my room if you are going to the bathroom.”

“Hm. Then we can open the door and talk when we’ve gone to bed,” she said, sounding excited.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied, not really getting the idea.

“I mean, it’s like ... we’re not alone,” Annie explained.

We sat down on Annie’s bed.

“Why isn’t your mother with you?” I asked.

“She’s ill. She needs a lot of medicine, and she hides it from Dad because she doesn’t want him to know how ill she is. It’s our secret, Mom and me. You mustn’t tell Dad. He gets so worried for Mom,” Annie answered seriously.

“That’s sad. Do you think you will miss them a lot?”

“I don’t know. I don’t see Dad much. He travels a lot. And Mom sleeps until late. The medicine makes her sleepy. I play a lot with the other kids or play with Yin.”

“What’s a Yin?” I asked, ignorant as I was about Chinese names.

“It’s not an ‘it.’ She’s the woman who takes care of me,” Annie answered and giggled.

“Oh. Mine is called Susan, and the one before her was Andrea. Have you only had Yin?” I replied.

“Yes. She’s my best friend. I’ll miss her,” Annie said, a little sad. “But I can go home every summer and visit her.”

We talked a little longer, but it was late, and somehow, we just fell asleep on Annie’s bed. Late, Mom and Dad and Uncle Paul woke us, and I was put into my own bed.

Annie was right about the door. It was nice to talk after we had been put to bed. Soon we had arranged our beds on each side of the wall, so we could talk quietly; we couldn’t see each other, but we were only inches apart.

Annie and I got along well. We looked much alike, but inside, we were very different. Annie was outgoing and daring. She would go to the line every time and often cross it. But she always got away with it, no matter what she did. She had this fantastic ability to look so innocent and, if needed, remorseful. I was usually reluctant to follow her lead. Still, I guess I gradually became a little more daring too.

From the time Annie came to stay with us, and until we were around ten, the young girls that looked after us were replaced at an ever-increasing rate. It took that long for my parents to realise what the problem was. But when one of them left after 3 days, we were in trouble. Before she left, she told my parents loudly and clearly, in a voice loud enough for us to hear it (while we eavesdropped outside my dad’s study) that we were two little monsters. Even Annie’s innocent look couldn’t help us that time.

Mom and Dad had a serious word with us; very serious! They didn’t threaten to send Annie home, but it was close.

By then, Annie and I were inseparable. The duration of Annie’s summer visits to China had gone down from five to two weeks. Separation would have been a catastrophe for both of us. We had to promise that we would behave nicely towards the next young girl and in school as well.

School was primarily Annie’s problem. We both did well in school, but Annie often got comments from the teachers on her report card because she was a little too mischievous.

Mom decided that it would be a good idea to employ a young girl from a foreign country. She wanted an English girl to help us improve our English, but for some reason she couldn’t find one from Britain. Instead, she hired a French girl.