By the General’s Grave

"What’s your plan, Jay?"

(Scene: A Quiet Cemetery under the autumn sun, Hong Kong, Sunday afternoon, 2022.)

(YOU kneel before a gravestone, a bucket of water beside you. You wring a towel from your bag and carefully wipe the gravestone, brushing away dirt and dried leaves. The name “Benjamin Yung” is etched on the stone, alongside “Beloved Teacher, Coach, and Husband.” Beside it is another grave, smaller, bearing the name of Mr. Yung’s son. You silently clean that one too. When you finish, you stand up and wipe the sweat from your brow.)

(A shadow stretches across the gravestone. You turn. Under the sunlight, a woman smiles at you. It’s Mrs. Yung—PRINCIPAL YUNG. Despite her age, her face holds a familiar warmth.)

Principal Yung: Jay, how are you?

(You stare at her, caught between recognition and disbelief.)

Principal Yung: What’s wrong? Have I changed so much that you don’t recognize me anymore?

You: (with a small smile) No, Principal. You’re as beautiful and elegant as ever. I’m so glad to see you. How have you been?

Principal Yung: (chuckling) I’ve been all right. Just these ankles—they ache and don’t let me walk too far anymore.

(You study her face. She’s aged, lines deepened by loss and time, but her presence feels as steady as it did in your childhood.)

You: I’m sorry for Mr. Yung. I… couldn’t be there for the funeral.

Principal Yung: Don’t apologize, Jay. It wasn’t something you could control.

(She sets a small bouquet of flowers at her husband’s grave. You watch silently as she adjusts them, her movements slow but deliberate. Together, you begin to walk away from the graves, heading toward the sea below the cemetery.)

You: If not for Mr. Yung… I don’t think I’d still be here to see you. He saved my life, in more ways than one.

Principal Yung: He worried so much about you. When he heard you were captured, he spent days making phone calls to anyone who might help—his friends, his former students. He was relentless.

You: I know. I’ll never stop owing him for that. He gave me more than I ever deserved.

Principal Yung: Don’t say that, Jay. You and Kin were his pride, his joy. Watching you two grow, watching you play basketball—that gave him a reason to keep going. He could’ve retired at 60, but he stayed just to see "his little samurais" finish their journey.

You: I didn’t understand it back then. All I cared about was winning for myself, for the team. I didn’t realize how much it meant to him.

Principal Yung: Basketball was his life. And you—you were his MVP. After we lost our son, a part of him went dark. But when you joined the team, I saw the light return to his eyes.

You: (pausing) Ronny told me about him too. You know Ronny, don’t you?

Principal Yung: Yes, I remember him—a good boy.

You: He’s a prison officer now. He protected me in there, more than once. Just before I left, he told me… it was because of Mr. Yung. He asked Ronny to look out for me.

(You both fall silent, the sound of waves breaking softly in the distance.)

Principal Yung: Do you still keep in touch with Kin?

You: No. I… I pushed him away.

Principal Yung: He was heartbroken at my husband’s funeral. He used to visit him in the hospital, cracking jokes and making him laugh like he was back in the classroom. He cared about you, Jay. When he told you he was moving to the UK, he thought you saw it as a betrayal.

You: I said things I regret. I told him, ‘Don’t let me see your face again.’ The truth is… I was jealous. He got to chase his basketball dream, and I was stuck here, rotting in jail. I owe him an apology.

Principal Yung: Don’t be too hard on yourself. You were just a boy then—only 15. Even now, you’re still so young.

You: That’s not an excuse. I let my ego push away the people who cared about me. Kin, Cindy, Marco—they all tried to stay in touch, and I ignored them. I tore up their letters because it hurt too much to see their lives moving on without me.

(Principal Yung stops, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.)

Principal Yung: What’s your plan, Jay?

You: I’ll save enough money to leave. I want to chase my basketball dream, like Kin's doing. I don’t think I’ll ever come back. Not to report to the police, not to this city.

Principal Yung: My husband wanted to help you. Even on his deathbed, he asked me to pass something on to you.

(You look at her, surprised.)

Principal Yung: He saved some money for you. He wanted you to use it to start over.

You: (after a pause) Thank you, Principal, but… please keep it for now. I’ll come back for it when I’m ready. For now, I need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own. I don’t want to let Mr. Yung down.

Principal Yung: Are you still in school, Jay?

You: No. I’ve been working on a construction site since I got out. A friend from jail helped me get the job.

Principal Yung: Wouldn’t it be easier to accept our help? To start chasing your dream now?

You: I’ll think about it. You and Mr. Yung have done more for me than anyone else ever has. When my own parents threw me out for being part of the protests… you gave me a home.

Principal Yung: Don’t blame them, Jay. Everyone suffered in those days. Everyone is still suffering now.

You: I know. Jail gave me a lot of time to think. I’ll make it right—everything. It’ll take time, but I’ll work on it.

(You both stop at the edge of the sea. The sun glints off the water, golden and endless.)

You: Take care, Principal Yung. I’ll keep you updated. When I save enough, I’ll leave. Wish me luck.

Principal Yung: (smiling) You have my blessing, Jay. And my husband’s.

(She watches as you walk away, your figure framed by the setting sun. Her eyes glimmer with the same light she carried in the classroom, all those years ago.)

(Posted on 9.1.2025)

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