I knew it was wrong to throw the rock. Even if the building seemed abandoned. But, before my friends could react, I threw it.
The alarms sounded instantaneously. We hopped on our bikes and raced away. A few minutes later, a helicopter appeared overhead. We scrambled under some trees and watched it circle the building.
I'm not sure what possessed me to light that bush on fire.
Maybe it was because I knew where my Mom kept the matches. That's just about all the reason an adolescent male needs to light anything on fire.
Someone once told me that a person unknowingly eats about two spiders a year. This usually happens while the person is asleep. Apparently spiders like wet, moist environments. And what's more wet & moist than a person's mouth? (Okay, get your mind out of the gutter, kids.)
It was the waterfall of blood that shocked me the most. But before I get ahead of myself, let me tell you why I hit him on the forehead.
My parents had never had a vacation without my brother and me until that week. Being the archetypical Chinese parents, our family vacations were to Adventure Land (a lame rip-off of Six Flags Great Adventure), Hershey Park (a lame rip-off of Disney World), and, um, that's about it. It was just those two.
Today's topic for young people is: How to Do a School Science-Fair Project.
When I was in fourth grade, dodgeball was a scary game. I was a scrawny kid with glasses, a geek who made a delectable target because you'd get a satisfying thump followed by a comical backwards tumble if you hit me ("You're going down like a sweet muffin!").
Chinese parents have stomachs of iron. Literally; their stomach lining is cold hard metal. Rivets line their intestines. There is very little they cannot digest; I kid you not. Want me to prove it?
Well, pull up a chair and let me tell you a story. 'Tis a true story, a story from my youth.
"Michael, come with me," commanded my father. I blinked, got up from my homework, and followed him. We walked into the family TV room.
"Sit down."
I sat down.
Benny was a big dog. A big male dog. I don't remember what kind of dog he was, except that he had a coat of tan and white fur and pointy ears.
Hi, I'm Mike, and I am shy. I'm a shy guy. I was a shy kid.
I was so shy as a kid that I didn't say a word in kindergarten. Not one word. My teacher would say to me, "You can have some candy if you can say 'please'." I would look back and shake my head, saying nothing.
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA