James felt that he was surrounded by a warm fluid, floating freely. Yet he could not open his eyes because his eyelids felt like weighting thousands of pounds. Life was draining away at first. Then, he began to let go of himself until he could not feel.
From a dimension far away, a voice said, “Damn it Rosy, why are you waking me up in a bloody hour?”
“Sir, it seems like the reincarnation system has encountered a glitch. Someone has used soul storage device to counter memory formatting.”
“Do you know how many souls were affected?”
“Only one, sir.”
“Oh whatever, try to reboot the system and track down the offender! And tell the tech support that we are downgrading our operating system to Windows XP!”
When James opened his eyes, he was baffled by what he saw. He was lying on a stretcher in a small room.
Slowly, he got up from the bed, and he felt every inch of his muscle ached. He noticed that the room was rather archaic. The bronze bagua given by his grandfather, an amulet with ying and yang and eight ideograms inscribed, was also missing.
James pulled a string on the wall that says “Help.” Shortly after, a nun wearing a habit and a cross came in, and asked, “How are you feeling?”
James knew some English. He thanked the nun and said that he was not feeling well. “Where am I? And where are my parents?” He was dying to know.
“You are in St. Peter’s Hospital in Vancouver. A fisherman found you floating on the sea and sent you here. You have been unconscious for 2 days. We all thought that you were dead. We don’t know where your parents are, you were found alone. I'm sorry. I will be back.”
The nun then said she will be back as she had to report to the doctor.
Meanwhile, James closed his eyes and let his tears run freely. His protective parents had provided great support and sheltered him, and as a result, James was heavily dependent on them. Missing his parents was too much for James to bear. Disoriented, he had no idea what to do.
Fifteen minutes later, the nun returned with two other colleagues, they pushed James to a big room with more patients, divided by white curtains. Then, a doctor came to examine James’s condition.
“What’s your name?” asked the doctor.
“James Li.”
“Age?”
“Sixteen.”
“Okay, let’s do some examination, lay flatly on the bed.” Then, the doctor check the flexibility of James’s limbs and the overall condition of his body, everything seemed to be alright. It was strange to the doctor how his colleague had pronounced James a dead man.
“There are nothing much life threatening, but I am going to give you some Epical, a general healing and energizing drug. You will stay here under close supervision for the next 5 days, okay?”
James nodded. He was still shocked. “How much does it cost?” James still remembered the high cost of healthcare in his homeland.
The doctor grinned, “Don’t worry about it, there’s no charge. God bless you.” After, he walked quickly out of the room.
James was really grateful for that.
During the day, James walked around. Most patients were Caucasians, some are Asian. There were also a few blacks.
While he was examining a painting in the hallway, he was greeted by a muscular white man with tattoos on his neck. “Hey fellow, how are you doing?”
“Fine, thank you, and you?” James automatically responded.
“I’m good.” The man smiled and showed his golden teeth, and asked, “What are you here for?”
“I don’t know. I guess that I was drawn. How about you?” James was being really honest; he thought he must have died from the crash.
“I was shot by a gang member.” He pointed to a gun wound on his arm.
“That must be painful.” James commented. “Sir, could you tell me what day is today?”
The man pointed to a calendar on the other side of the hall and said, “There’s a calendar, why don’t you check it yourself?”
“Thank you.” said James.
“No problem.” the man said and walked away.
The calendar down the hall featured Paolo Veronese’s Baptism of Christ. The old days were crossed out with an X. The first date left unchecked was Monday, June 8, 1998.
“What the hell?” James was mad. He was born in 1994, and before the planecrash, he was supposed to be 4 years old at this time. There ought to be an error. However, it must have occurred to the manufacturer and the person who bought it that the year was wrong.
Nobody, at least no one that he knew of, has got the chance to survive such a crash. He was too alarmed to ask about the plane crash. Therefore, James felt that he must tread carefully to protect himself. He also thought that he might have travelled back to history and gone to another dimension. Either way, James realized that if he tells anyone where he is coming from, he would be regarded as a freak or be taken to an advanced laboratory and become a guinea pig.
In the afternoon, James was visited by a policeman named Greg Williams.
“James, you lost your IDs, is that right?” asked Williams.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are you from?”
James decided to tell the truth as he is almost certain that he will be treated as an illegal immigrant, “People’s Republic of China.”
“How many people were with you?”
“I don’t remember.” It was true. James didn’t remember how many people were supposed to be on the plane.
“How cannot you remember?” Williams frowned.
“I just can’t.”
Williams did not go into depth and changed the topic, “Do you have any relatives here?”
“No.”
Williams nodded, “You will spend some time here until further notice.” And he strolled out.
On the second day, at around 4 PM, a social worker came later. With coconut brown hair, a red shirt, deep blue jeans, and Trojan sandals, the fashionalbe social worker who was in her mid-twenties seemed very vibrant and extraordinary.
She shook James’s hand and said, “Hi James, I am Mary Yamashita, I’m your social worker. As of now, we have got a hang of your situation. You are likely to be deported back to China, unless you obtain a refugee status here. In the meanwhile, you will have to stay here.”
Will I be able to find my parents if I go back to China? What happen to the “other me?” James thought to himself. It was probably too early. Plus, it was not up to him to decide.
Nevertheless, James was then transferred to a group home established by the same church responsible for St.Peter’s Hospital, situated across the street.
It was the first time James walked out from the St.Peter’s complex. Before he made the cross, he saw two Royal Canadian Mounted Police in their classic red tunic, riding on tall, dark horses. A Land Rover followed the RCMPs while two police cars covered the flanks and the back.
In the back seat of the Land Rover, a middle-aged woman in classy beige Chanel suit and Hermes scarf looked out from the window and saw James with the social worker, crossing the street. She appreciated the diversity of Canada while flipping through today’s The Globe and Mail.
“My Mistress, I think England could at least go to the quarter-finals.” said a younger woman in the front seat.
“Indeed.” The woman took a sip of Red Rose Tea in a stainless steel heat preserve cup.
James admired the fleet as it passed by. Apparently, it was someone of high prestige and power, which is what he was aspiring to be. Yet now, that dream seemed evermore unreachable.
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