The rainstorm passed, leaving behind droplets of rain dripping rhythmically; looking out, the sky looked to be turning a greyish hue. The bustle and din gradually disappeared, and the school became quiet once again.
School is over as students gradually make their way home. I sit in this quiet classroom with a mixture of excitement and agitation, waiting for a momentous ritual that would be a watershed moment. What kind of ceremony would this be? What would my future be?
Moments later, Ms. Kwan Man-Yiu enters and closes the door behind her. She reminds me further, "You must always meet your leader in public places and wait no more than ten minutes. And make sure you lose your tail."
"Remember, don't ask anything that doesn't concern you. The Party will let you know what you need to know. Don't even acknowledge any comrades unless it is someone you report to directly." Finally, she adds, "During the time of White Terror, things were even more precarious. If you try to set up a time to meet over the phone, subtract any date or time by one."
I struggle to remember everything she said, and become a "com- rade", thereby rewriting the entire story of my life.
