kung-fu for dharmi chapter3 street child

8/14/2019 Kung-Fu for Dharmi Chapter3 Street Child

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Charles J. Lee

KUNG-FU

for

DHARMI

CHARLES J. LEE

First published by Char les J. Lee, December 2009

All rights rese rved .

Copyr ight Char les J. Lee 2009

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Kung-fu means Skill or Ability.

It applies to all life experiences.

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CHAPTER THREE

Street Child

Somewhere in the Land of Fruits and Nuts...

A man ambled down a street, taking in the sights and sounds. Helooked as though he would like to stop and smell the roses, but this was a

mid-sized city. The only plants visible were the green shoots of weeds

popping up from cracks in the pavement.

This man had huge, bulging eyes, but they shrank and disappeared

when he was engaged in one of his many jolly laughs. His shaven head was

as shiny as a mirror, but his fleshy face appeared as content as a bowl of

pudding. The man seemed to have yellow skin, or perhaps it was just thesun at work.

Several children ran down the street towards the man. They seemed

to be quite careless, for several ran into him at the same time.

Oof! Mister!

Ow!

Hey, kids... the man said good naturedly. Then his face changed.

In an instant, the slow-moving man slapped one massive hand againsthis pants pocket and shot out another hand. Most of the children continued

running down the street, but the man caught the slowest child easily. The

man had not even moved his feet.

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Boy, did you just attempt to take something from me? The man

demanded.

I didnt take anything, the boy replied.

Of course you didnt. Because I stopped you. But you tried.

I didnt try to take anything, the boy repeated.

Dont lie! The man warned. But he looked into the eyes of this child,

and found only surprise in them. He let go of the boy.

Although the man watched the boy to see if the boy would attempt to

run, the boy stood his ground.

I correct myself, the man nodded. You are part of a gang. And

youre not the one who goes for the wallet. Am I right?

What wallet? Were playing a game.

A game where you take things from peoples pockets?

The boy did not answer, but the perplexed look on his face told all. He

didnt know what his friends were doing.

What about your friends? The man asked. Where are they hiding?

I dont know. The boy replied.

The man folded his arms and stood with legs apart, towering over the

boy and blocking his way. You dont know where your friends are?

The boy shook his head.

Do you know where they live?

No.

You dont know anything about them?

I just met them.

The man looked intently into the eyes of the boy.So why did you run with these kids?

They asked me to run with them. A race, the boy explained.

And that included running into me? The man asked.

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The boy nodded. They said it was part of the race. Like a game of tag.

Or run and tag, somebody said.

Dont you think it is strange to run and tag people you dont know?

Oh, we have done this many times.

And the people you run into? The shaven man was beginning to

understand.

Most of them shout at us. Sometimes they join our race. But were

faster. They dont catch us ever... oh, youre the first one.

So you keep playing this game with your friends? Where do you

normally meet?

The boy pointed to a junction far away. I met them there.

Will they be there tomorrow?

The boy shrugged. I dont know. I hope so.

Oh? Thats how you normally meet up?

I only met them today. We played this tag game all day.

The man scratched his head thoughtfully. His head was quite big, but

it didnt take too much to fill his head. So he stood there and was thoughtful

or mindful - for a while.

Finally the man spoke.

I should stop calling you Boy. What is your name, young man?

Boy.

Boi? The man asked.

The boy nodded. Im not Yang Mann. Im a boy.

The man scratched his head again.

Erboy? Now what kind of name is that?Im a boy, Dummy.

Are you calling me Dummy? The man asked without raising his voice

or changing his tone.

Im not, the boy answered. Im Dummy.

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The man hooded his eyes ever so slightly.

Are you playing with me?

I can play with you, if you want, the boy smiled. Do you want to tag

someone?

No, Im not talking about playing like that. Im asking you for your

name.

Boy.

Now youre telling me that your name is Boy?

Or Dummy.

The boys words sounded ridiculous to the man. I mean, what do

most grown-ups normally call you? The man asked again.

They usually call me Boy. Like you did.

Then what about people who know you. People whom you live with.

Your parents. What do they call you?

My parents? They call me Dummy.

They call you Dummy?

Or Boy, like everybody else. But they have other boys. So they

usually call me Dummy.

Are you saying that you are a boy called Dummy? The man asked at

last.

I am a boy called Dummy.

The man looked carefully at the boys face, which seemed to reflect a

multiracial background.

Perhaps this boy is using an ethnic name, the man reflected. That

must be the reason why he has such a strange name.So how do you spell Dummy?

I dont really know.

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The man could not resist a shudder. Our schools are getting worse and

worse nowadays, he thought to himself. This boy was already six, seven

years old.

Can you read?

I dont know. The boy replied.

What do you mean?

I know how to read each letter. I dont know how to read letters when

they are together, though.

So is your name really Dummy?

It is Dummy, came the reply. Or Boy.

The man closed his eyes for an instant. There was a voice calling

inside him.

No, no! Dont dwell on the past! The man told himself.

But his internal voice was insistent. Not even the most basic education?

You cant let parents like that get away!

The man finally made up his mind. Boy, he addressed the child. Can

I speak to your parents?

At this, the boys face seemed to crumple.

Whats wrong? The man squatted down so that he was on the same

level as the boy. What happened to your parents?

Theyve... theyve... been taken away.

Taken away? The man thought as quickly as he could. Now what did

that mean?

There were all those loud sounds. And those bright and spinning

lights. And then the Mofos took them away.So you mean to say they were abducted by UFOs? The man asked.

Ab-duct?

Kidnap, the man explained.

Kidnapped. Yes.

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The man could feel his heart skip a beat. This boy really did not seem

to be making up a story. Radio and TV stations were always talking about

alien threats to The Real World. Was this an account of an alien invasion?

So did the U-F-Os fly into the sky? The man asked, suppressing his

excitement.

No. There were no U-F-Os. There were only MO-FOs.

Mofos?

Thats what father said. He called them Mofos.

Uh... the man scratched his head. I havent heard of Mofos.

Father said Mofo is short for mother...

Oh, I get it, the man said hastily. All right. So the Mofos took your

parents. I take it that the Mofos were human beings?

Im not sure if they were people. They hide their faces in helmets.

Like outer space aliens. They also had weapons. Like outer space aliens in

the movies. Only they rode Ottos and Karls, instead of flying saucers.

The man was still trying to make sense of what the boy was saying.

Did your father ever tell you what kind of people Mofos are?

The boy shook his head. He said a Mofo wears a uniform. And has a

metal thing called a... ugh... a batch. Father also said I must never to talk to

them. And always to run and hide when I see them. Because they would

take me away to some bad place and lock me up.

The man stood up and touched his chin.

Ah, it makes sense. This boys parents must be people who snuck

across the border without permission.

Have your parents been taken away because they were illegalaliens? The man asked.

No, the boy answered. My parents are not aliens. They are people

like me and you.

I mean, did the Mofos call them illegal aliens?

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The Mofos never called them aliens. I think the Mofos are the aliens,

actually.

Urm... the man thought to himself. This was rather complicated. The

man was convinced this was an immigration issue. But how could he help

the boy resolve it?

Do you have any relatives around?

Relatives?

Any aunts, uncles, grandpas, grandmas living around here? The man

asked. He was mentally preparing to hear the answer No, since he believed

this boys parents came from over the border.

I dont have any relatives.

You mentioned some other children. Is there a family?

Oh yes. I have brothers and sisters.

Where are they now? The man asked.

They have all been taken away. By the Mofos.

They didnt take you away, noted the man.

Because I remembered what my parents said. So when I heard the

sounds and saw the lights, I ran into the woods and hid under some bushes.

They didnt see me. But when I came back out, everybody was gone.

It seemed obvious to the man that the boys family had been arrested

for sneaking across the border. The man would have to find some way of

identifying this boy, and putting him in touch with somebody who knew his

family.

What are your parents called?

Father and Mother, the boy answered promptly.Dont they have names?

Father and Mother, the boy replied.

All right. Do you know what your family name is? The man asked.

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Family name? The boy thought for a moment. Oh, right! Our

neighbors know. They call us Erfoster Family. Or De Foster Family.

The man thought for a long time. So your name is probably Dummy

de Foster, am I right?

If you say so, the boy replied. Grown-ups always know. Thats what

Father always said. He always said he knew everything.

Well... grown-ups dont always know everything, the man said with a

sigh. I wish...

Father always said to me, Dummy, you dont know anything. Listen

to me. the boy replied.

There was another silence as the man looked down.

No, that is a past life, the man told himself. Dont dwell on your

mistakes. Learn from them and move on.

Ill help you find other members of your family, the man said at last.

Come with me.

And your name, Mister? the boy asked.

My name comes from a different language, the man answered. You

would probably find it hard to pronounce. You can just call me Ace.

Ace? Dummys coming with you then, the boy said.

The man didnt move. He had been very puzzled all along about the

boys name. It did not seem possible that this boy was called D-u-m-m-y.

No loving parent would call his child that!

Perhaps there is something much deeper

Boy, most parents give children meaningful names. Do you know any

reason why they call you Dummy?They say I deserve the name because I keep asking questions, the

boy replied.

Ace scratched his shaved head. The spirit of inquiry is good, he

recalled a religious leader telling him. It is always good to ask questions.

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Why should a boy be called a dummy for asking questions?

Wait a moment, boy, the man said as he sought out a tree. He sat

down under it with his legs crossed.

Ace, what are you doing? The boy asked.

Another question! Ace thought to himself. This boy is really interested

in learning!

I am going to reflect on my spiritual training, Ace told the boy. I am

trying to understand the reason behind your name.

Meditation was still a new thing to Ace, and he took a while to

completely calm his heart and mind. The boy squatted patiently beside him

and watched, eyes open wide. He did not try to interrupt Ace.

After half an hour, Ace had a revelation.

It had to be. A name has to have a meaning.

Having led a life without meaning, the man had only recently

discovered Meaning and Purpose. He decided that it was fate, it was karma,

that brought this boy to him. Of course! It was a sign that he was finally on

the right path!

Dummys name really came from the root word Dharma!

And of course, now that made sense. Dharma sounded like a name for

a girl. So his parents had made a small change. They named him Dharmi!

Ace opened his eyes and told Dharmi: I have figured out how your

name is really spelt. D-h-a-r-m-i. It roughly means the right path. Your

parents felt you deserve to be called Dharmi because you keep asking

questions and asking questions will put you on the right path. All right?

Dharmi nodded eagerly. Now I know both the meaning of my name,and also how to spell my name!

And now, Dharmi de Foster, lets find your parents! Ace announced.

*

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After asking many people, Ace finally took Dharmi to the Department

of Child Support Services.

Dharmi here has lost his parents, Ace said cautiously. Can you help

us trace his closest relatives?

Family name, the clerk said without looking up.

de Foster.

Many people carry the family name of Foster, the clerk looked up

with tired eyes.

Exactly, the man replied. Surely someone will recognize this boy.

But if there are so many potential relatives, how do you expect me to

help him?

Ace had not wanted Dharmi to say where he lived at first, because Ace

was concerned that Dharmi might be arrested as an alien. So it went back

and forth for a while between Ace and the clerk. Finally Ace relented and let

Dharmi describe the place he had been living with his family.

Let me see the clerk pored over the records. No, no Fosters living

there. Not at that address, not along the entire street.

Perhaps the family is unregistered Ace conceded.

No, no. This boy isnt a Foster. Hes a foster child.

A foster child?

There was a couple living there, running a foster home of sorts. They

are not his real parents. This boy this Dummy...

Dharmi, Ace replied, pronouncing the name carefully to emphasize

the H and the R sounds.

This Dhar-mee, the clerk said in a patronizing tone, is listed in thepaperwork as an abandoned child. We have records of the payments made

to the foster parents. And they certainly did not register him as Dummy. Do

you want to know what name the foster parents gave him?

Sure, Ace replied.

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They called him Benton.

Benton? Dharmis eyes opened wide. It must be a mistake! They

have never called me Benton before!

Its in the files, the clerk tapped a large, battered manila folder. We

have all the childrens photographs, and only Bentons photo looks like this

boy. Furthermore... the clerk flipped through some pages. Ah, here are his

foster parents.

Dharmi found himself looking at two faded instant photographs. These

were clearly younger versions of his foster parents.

I... but my father and mother have never called me Benton before!

They always called me Dummy! Dharmi was shaking. Ace gently put his

arms around Dharmi in a reassuring fashion.

Well, you were an abandoned child. These are your foster parents,

the clerk said ruthlessly. They were getting paid to take care of you. Thats

all. And if they really called you Dummy, it seems you were not very

important to them.

Getting paid... Dharmi looked down at his feet. Suddenly the world

seemed very different.

But it seemed to make sense a little, because these two father and

mother, actually foster father and foster mother they never seemed to like

him. They only seemed to put up with him...

The floor was starting to appear distorted. Faraway. And the patterns

on the carpet were starting to move...

Ace gently tightened his grip on Dharmis arms to prevent Dharmi

from collapsing.Dharmi blinked. A tear fell from one eye. Then another tear fell. Then

more tears.

Ace. I... my... Dharmi stopped.

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Ace opened his mouth, but found it hard to say anything. More tears

fell from Dharmis eyes.

Why do I have no real parents? Why was I abandoned? Did I do

Finally Ace spoke.

Whatever has happened, was fated to happen, Ace murmured gently.

You were abandoned and your present parents, your foster parents, took

you in

No... no...! Dharmi was crying. Theyre not real! Not real parents!

The mention of not real inspired a better response from Ace.

This world isnt real. It is transitory, Ace told Dharmi. We are born

in this world, and suffering is part of the human experience. But we triumph

over suffering with love and compassion...

Ace was actually reciting things he had read in some religious texts,

but he recited with sincere fervor. So although Dharmi didnt understand all

of Aces words, they sounded oddly comforting. Dharmis sobs died down.

On his part, Ace did not like learning that the boys foster parents

called him Dummy. Ace greatly preferred calling the boy Dharmi. It would

also have fitted Aces beliefs. But Ace knew he could never impose a name

on someone else.

Do you want me to call you Benton instead? Ace asked.

The boy shook his head emphatically. They never called me Benton!

They never called me Benton!

The clerk weighed in with a sarcastic grin. Dhar-mee is a very nice

sounding name. I am confident that this boys peers will enjoy calling him

Dhar-mee. In contrast, a pretentious name like Benton is sure to get thisboy beaten up in school.

The responses from the boy and the clerk brought a smile to Aces face.

Perhaps it was indeed karma, it was indeed fate, that brought Ace and this

unwanted foster boy-street child together!

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This must be my second chance, Ace thought to himself. I should not

miss this opportunity to do the right thing!

And so Ace turned to the boy and opened his arms. Boy, if you dont

want the name Benton, will you let me call you Dharmi instead? As Ive told

you, it comes from the term Dharma and is a very meaningful name.

Ill be Dharmi from now on, the boy responded immediately. It

totally makes sense.

And since your parents foster parents since you cant find them,

Ace said. How about staying with me until they show up?

I want a real father! Dharmi insisted childishly.

Of course, Ace said hastily. Im not suggesting that you call me

Father. But until you find your real father, I can act like a father to you. I

can protect you and teach you and things like that. You can call me Ace. Ill

be your sifu, sensei, master or teacher.

Teacher Ace! Dharmi said immediately. He threw himself into Aces

arms and the two hugged each other.

How nice. An ultramodern family. Monk and son, old monk and young

monk, the clerk muttered cynically.

Clerk, Ace said with authority. Dharmi here says he was brought up

with other foster children. Maybe I can take care of them too, as a family

unit. Do you know where the rest are?

Nope.

Can we trace the other children? Ace asked.

The clerk shook his head.

Dharmi pulled at Aces sleeve. Never mind. The other boys liked to hitme and say bad things to me. I dont miss them that much anyway. I want

to find my real family.

Ace wrapped his arms around Dharmi comfortingly.

Is there any reason why you cant trace the entire family?

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The clerk sighed. This story comes from my colleague...

Dharmi and Ace listened intently.

Two days ago, my colleague was here after-hours. Late into the

night...

Wait a moment, that sounds made-up, Ace interrupted.

The clerk glared at Ace. Do you think Im telling you a lie?

Thats not how bureaucrats work. You people always go home on

time, Ace pointed out.

Ergh! The clerk swore. He looked thoroughly nonplussed, while Ace

smiled at the clerks discomfort.

All right, youve got me, the clerk said after a minute. But I wasnt

lying to you.

Oh yes, of course, Ace beamed. It was impossible to tell if he was

being sarcastic.

Im serious! The clerk glared at Ace. But youre right. My colleague

was here to use the computer. He probably didnt want his wife to know he

was surfing porn.

Whats Serfinpon? Dharmi looked up with red eyes.

Never mind, Ace said hastily. Its just a condition of the mind. You

know, something virtual.

Ace, whats virtual?

Illusionary.

Whats illus...

Never mind. That man was just here daydreaming, all right?

But Ace, didnt he say it was late into the night...Ace could only smile helplessly at Dharmis inquisitive mind. Go on,

please, he told the clerk.

Late into the night, the clerk continued, the ventilation window up

there suddenly popped out.

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And the clerk pointed to a little ventilation window at the far end of the

office, nestled right at a corner.

My colleague did not even have time to react before a man slipped in

through the window.

A man? Ace stared at the window. How can a man fit through...

Not a man like you, thats for sure, the clerk sniped. But a black-

clad man slipped through the window in an instant. He somersaulted and

landed noiselessly on that desk over there...

This has got to be fiction, Ace said with authority. Anyone landing

on that desk...

It was a Fibster.

Oh... The clerks words seemed to have a chilling effect on Ace.

Another ten or more Fibsters came through the window in the next

few seconds. The Fibsters swiftly ran along the top of the wall that partitions

our desks and soon arrived at my department here. None of them made any

sound, and they totally ignored my colleague, who was in any case so

frightened that he had turned into stone. The Fibsters rummaged through

our desks.

The clerk swept his arm around to indicate the desks belonging to his

department.

They were extremely quick. They found what they were looking for -

almost all information about Dhar-mees foster family - and removed them.

Then they departed as quickly as they had come, slipping through the

ventilation window. If this file hadnt been misfiled, Im sure the Fibsters

would have taken it too.Fibsters? Dharmi asked when the clerk had finished.

Fibsters comes from FIB, the Freeranging Investigative Branch. They

are dangerous ninjas who are not afraid to do the sneakiest things, the

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clerk said in a low voice. Looks like your dear foster parents have offended

the Fibsters!

Have your foster parents done anything that isnt good? Ace asked

Dharmi.

Isnt good? Dharmi thought aloud. I dont know.

What about something that they could have gotten in trouble for?

Dharmi again answered in the negative. It occurred to Ace that

perhaps Dharmis foster parents decided not to involve him in any illegal

schemes, because Dharmi kept asking questions.

What about... anything out of the ordinary at all?

Suddenly Dharmi raised an open palm. I know! I know!

Yes?

They do some naughty things!

Erm Ace was not sure if he wanted to inquire more deeply. But

Dharmi continued:

They send my brothers I mean, foster brothers and sisters to give

people lumps of coal!

Lumps of coal? Aces eyes nearly popped out. You mean during

Christmas? Like the story about bad children getting lumps of coal in socks

for Christmas?

Yes! Thats it! Dharmi cried out. Except they give bad people lumps

of coal even when it isnt Christmas!

Thats strange, Ace said darkly.

Well, Ive asked my brothers I mean, fellow foster brothers and

sisters. They say they delivered the coke to some fierce and nasty menliving in ugly and run down houses.

Maybe they delivered soft drinks? Ace asked.

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No, it was real coke. Coal. I saw them myself, Dharmi replied. When

one of my brothers, foster brothers, he pulled a piece out of the sock he was

carrying. My fingers got all black touching that thing.

Ace and the clerk looked at each other, but neither was able to think of

any reason why Dharmis foster parents would want their foster children to

deliver coal in socks.

Perhaps they were just playing pranks on people they didnt like, the

clerk said finally.

Using children like that! Disgusting! Ace said. The fierce men could

have hurt the kids!

Well, thats just my guess, the clerk shrugged.

Then why did the Fibsters swipe the files? Were they hired by the

nasty men to make the family disappear? Ace asked.

Another long silence followed.

Fibsters obey the Commander of Chiefs. They dont work at the

behest of ordinary people, the clerk said at last.

Mister, Dharmi tugged at the clerks sleeve. Will I ever see my

foster family again?

The clerk looked at Dharmi with a serious expression.

The Fibsters are ruthless ninjas skilled in enhanced interrogation

techniques. If your foster parents offended the Fibsters, you wont ever see

them again.

Overwhelmed by all this, Dharmi sat down on the floor. Forgetting his

earlier decision to accept Ace as a surrogate father, tears began welling

across Dharmis eyes.Now, now, theyre just foster parents and siblings. They arent real,

the clerk said dismissively.

They are real! Theyre not make-believe! Dharmi exclaimed.

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Ace spoke comfortingly: Dharmi, you have real parents. And possibly

real brothers and sisters too. They are, er, um, usually better than foster

parents and foster siblings.

Finally Dharmi quieted down. Theyve never been nice to me

anyway, Dharmi tried to put his unhappiness aside. They never liked me.

There we go, the clerk said in a tone that suggested he was getting

tired of this case. They were bad people. Youre not.

But I have no one now!

Thats not true. You have real parents, Ace repeated. You just dont

know who or where they are.

Uh Ace?

Im here for you.

Will you help me help me find my real parents?

As Ive promised: yes!

*

Having decided that fate, or karma, brought Dharmi into his life, Ace

decided it was time to settle down. The two walked for a long time into the

countryside, until they found themselves in a place where orange trees

extended as far as the eye could see.

Rent is too high elsewhere in this Land of Fruits and Nuts. Well settle

down here, Ace decided.

As the weather was good, Ace and Dharmi started off by camping

under a tree. Ace spent several days scouting before finally picking a site for

a house. He bought nails, cement and waterproofing sealants, then sourced

most of the building materials from nearby dumps. Ace even carted in somesand to make concrete. With some help from Dharmi, eventually he built a

house out of recycled or natural materials.

And so the two settled in Oranges Country, living a simple life like the

other residents. When the oranges were ripe, Ace and Dharmi picked the

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oranges and sold them at the nearby Farmers Market. They also made jams

to sell. They did not earn much gold, but they did not need much either.

Because they planted their own vegetables, they did not need to buy much

food. They bought all their clothes from second-hand shops. Ace built most

of their furniture out of recycled orange crates.

Although orange-picking, jam-making and gardening was tedious and

exhausting at times, there was plenty of spare time between harvests. So

Ace taught Dharmi the basic kung-fu of reading and writing and arithmetic.

He bought minor luxuries like a generator, a used television and a old radio,

then sent for his book collection which had been stored somewhere else.

Life was peaceful and filled with contentment. Compared with his

previous life as a foster child in a big, raucous family where no one really

cared for each other, Dharmi felt he was in paradise.

Next: Hais School

kung-fu for dharmi chapter3 street child

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