Chapter 2: Boston, Massachusetts

Boston, Massachusetts

Until I arrived in America, I never gave much thought to the lifestyle of my family and the standard of living we enjoyed. To my very insular perception, our family was entirely normal in terms of how we lived our lives.

That was until Charlie got himself expelled from Weston. Or rather, as it is known, the Weston School. Emphasis on 'THE'.

Usually when we moved, Mom would be busy settling the house, with us being drafted to do all sorts of shifting and manual labour as far as I could remember from the time we were mobile and in control of our limbs as kids. Such a period could take up to a half a month, which was usually great since Charlie and I loved nothing better than to slack off from school and laze around at home. Only after things were settled, would Mom then do her research before we were enrolled in whichever school she deemed good enough for us.

This time round, upon reaching Boston, we barely had time to arrange our individual rooms in the old Victorian townhouse we rented before we were heard the doorbell ring. Charlie was first to open the door, when he saw a lady dressed in matching pantsuit, clicking away at her Blackberry. Behind her stood a girl, roughly our age, wearing a maroon cardigan, paired with a white shirt, and a plaid skirt.

Before he could say anything, the lady raised her head. "Oh my, look at you. You must be Charles." The way she pronounced 'Charles' sounded like she was trying to hack out a furball, without the audible hacking sounds. "Chah-les, oh my, how strapping you look? Is your mother in?"

"Ruth!"

My Mom's slightly shrill exclamation moved my brother and I, swiftly away from the door, allowing the lady and the girl to step into the house.

"Victoria-h! I'm so glad to finally see you again." The lady said, as she embraced Mom before air-kissing her.

"This is my youngest dah-ghter, Susan."

Charlie and I both peered at Susan curiously. She was really pretty, with ebony hair, pale skin, blue eyes and perhaps the cutest little pert nose I've seen in a girl. But she was also extremely disinterested in everything that was happening, choosing instead to constantly text on her Blackberry.

No matter, Mom was visibly happy. "These are my sons, Charles and James. Boys, this is your Aunt Victoria! We went to school together. You'll be attending the same school that Susan goes to."

"Don't worry Victoria, I've already bought these boys their uniforms, although," She paused and eyed Charlie critically, "this one might need a bigger blazer."

My Mom gave a throaty chuckle as she regarded Charlie as well, "Tell me about it, I don't know how to keep up with Charlie's growth. He outgrows whatever I buy him within weeks, gosh!"

"I see." Ruth gave a slightly weak wave of her hand in response. "No matter, I dropped by to have a look at your progress and to let you know about the uniforms. I've settled the boys' enrolment with the school already, so anytime you're ready, feel free to drop the boys off at school. Just register with the office before their classes."

"You're a peach, Ruthie, thank you so very much."

"It's no trouble. Oh and, can I expect to see you at our Ladies Meeting? We're fund-raising for the new wing at Boston Medical Centre?"

"You will see me there, Ruth."

With that, the lady gave another vapid wave as she turned and left us all standing in the foyer of the now emptier townhouse.

"I'm pretty sure that girls' eyes never left her phone." I said.

"Well, of course, not when you look like that, she won't." Charlie quickly said before grabbing my neck with his arm and giving me a noogie.

"Arghhh get off me! Mom, make him leave me alone!" I shouted. I knew better than to struggle against Charlie's massive biceps which would in turn tighten around my neck. Not that I had any chance to overpowering him. Guile over strength, appealing to parental authority works best as I had constantly found out in such situations.

"Boys!"

Charlie released his stranglehold on me, as he turned to Mom curiously and as I struggled to catch my breath. "Who's that, Mom? And why does your friend call you, 'Victoriahhhhhh'?"

Mom let a small smile grace her face before turning to us and said, "That was your Aunt Ruth. She is my third cousin, once removed I think? Her family came on the Mayflower, and she's married to one of the Astors. Anyway, we were both roommates at Cheltenham, before she returned to America to go to Yale, I think?"

"Well, isn't she Madam Snooty." Charlie said.

Once again, Mom let slip the tiniest of smiles. "The Boston blue-bloods are really traditional. You should be thankful your Grandfather is so affable. Besides, I've let your father corrupt me too much." At that her eyes started to glaze, "I've seen so little of your Dad these few months, oh how I miss him..."

"Gross!" was my contribution to the conversation. One thing I was always thankful about was the fact that Mom was never big on rules, and propriety, in fact, for so-called stuffy aristocrats, Mom's immediate family was pretty down to earth. It was the extended clan that was an issue when it came to things like family names, and bloodlines et cetera. What a joke. I suppose the further you were from the top, the more subconscious you were of your status thereby prompting a smack-down of those perceived 'lower' than you.

Regardless, this meant that Charlie and I were schooled in etiquette by Mom so as to avoid further occurrences of noses sniffing in disdain at us. Although we were capable of decorum at black-tie events, it spoke volumes of Dad's easy-going nature and corruptible lessons as we were usually more inclined to rough play with the local kids of country club workers. That was also probably because Dad was a rebel who delighted in egging us on in misbehaviour under his façade of a stern, no-nonsense Asian father figure. At least Mom thought he was firm with us, that is.

What a Machiavellian personality Dad had sometimes.

"Anyway..." Charlie said, bringing us all back, "So ... when are we headed to school?"

"Well, I will probably give you all the weekend to get settled. And then you boys will start on Monday. Which means tomorrow, you and your brother will help me around the house. Understood?"

Monday. Mom dropped us off at the gates of the Weston School in the family rental. Our uniforms arrived via courier just as Ruth promised. Again, just as she said, Charlie's blazer was a tight-fit at best. Hence, his umbrage at being berated immediately by a member of the staff for slinging it over his shoulder, upon us stepping into the foyer of the first building within the school's compound. The so-called Discipline Master, a Mr. Peachtree, had a pinched quality to his expression. He was a slender man with a narrow face and a pointed chin. After his diatribe was concluded, he led us to the Administration Office before stalking off to find another victim, I guess.

Charlie's righteous indignation aside, everything was smooth sailing until we stepped into the corridor after leaving the Administration Office. Classes must have just started because the corridor was almost empty. Almost, because there was four students in the corridor.

There were three boys surrounding a girl. Since they were quite a distance away, we couldn't quite make out what was being said. It was obvious however that the girl was uneasy, and that she was almost ready to bolt.

" ... so you better get ready to play ball, unless you want to suck Phil off during recess!"

"Now now, boys, hardly fair of you to gang up on her, innit?" Of course, Charlie had to play hero. 'Where was Mr. Peachtree, when you needed him', I thought.

"Fuck off. Nobody asked you. Besides, who the fuck are you?" said the tallest boy, who incidentally happened to be dark and scarred, and standing in the middle. I rolled my eyes visibly. This was turning into a piece of High School drama straight from a novel.

"C'mon Charlie, let's go."

"Yeah, listen to your faggot friend, and leave Chink."

"C'mon Richard, let's head off to class." urged the boy on the right of tall, dark and scarred, well, he had the slightest scar running through his left brow...

Oh shit. Well, remember our features? It's never obvious that we were mixed unless you were looking at us intently. Even then, you had to know what you were looking for. Our eyes had the slightest almond shape to it, just subtle enough to establish our Chinese ancestry. But beyond that, it was almost impossible to guess our racial inheritance. How he could tell I don't know. Lucky guess perhaps.

What I knew was that Charlie hated being discriminated against. We were never actively discriminated against while in Asia ... so it was a shock to hear it happen in England, and while certainly not a frequent occurrence ... it was still not something rare that happened once in a blue moon at best. Ever since he experienced it while walking with his best friend in Eton, who was a Pakistani born-and-bred British citizen, Charlie made it a point to shut down any vocal racism he heard. Did I mention that his best friend in Eton was also gay? That Richard was an equally opportunity racist and homophobe was probably what tipped Charlie over.