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“No, they were just bloody-minded. Do you understand what I mean when I say it hurt?”
Isadora mulls this over. “Feelings were hurt?”
“Hmm, no. If I bit Alba, her feelings would be hurt because she cares for me and she would feel unhappy I wanted to cause her pain. But when the parrots bit us it didn’t hurt our feelings, it hurt our fingers.”
“I have no fingers, so I have no hurt.”
“That’s what I am afraid of.”
Isadora doesn’t say anything. I continue. “Do you know the game, Go?”
“A board game invented in China more than two thousand, five hundred years ago—”
“Yes, exactly. I was playing the white stones and Zǐ Yì was playing the black stones. We had been at it for about an hour when we saw Bǎobǎo and Cǎi Hóng’s owner open her window so they could fly into the courtyard. Of course, as soon as the parrots spotted us, they flew right over to see if we had any food, but we had already eaten our buns. Then Cǎi Hóng saw all the little black and white Go stones; he swooped down, grabbed a stone, flew away and dropped it into the water flooding the courtyard. Then he came back to get more, and Bǎobǎo joined in, and soon we were yelling and trying to protect our Go stones. It was a very old set that had belonged to Zǐ Yì’s grandparents, and we weren’t supposed to be playing with it on the balcony. Just as the lady opened her door, Zǐ Yì was swinging his backpack at the parrots, and we were both swearing at them. As soon as they saw her, both birds flew to her and started complaining. She shut them inside her flat and screamed at us across the atrium. We tried to explain what had happened, but she was too furious to care, so we simply went inside my flat for the rest of the afternoon.”
Isadora says, “The parrots were hurt?”
“No, the parrots were fine.”
“Good.”
“I told my mother what had happened, and she sighed and told us to stay away from the lady. I don’t know if the lady was watching us or we were just unlucky, but after that it seemed as though every time Zǐ Yì left the building the lady would find him and strike him. The first time, she told him that since he had struck the parrots she was going to teach him how it felt to be struck by someone bigger than him. I never suffered, because my parents never let me leave the building without them.”
“Why not?” Isadora asks. “You were a bad boy?”
“I’ll tell you some other time.”
“What is strike?”
“If I take my hand and strike someone—here, hang on.” I retrieve the orange from the floor. “You can strike softly, a little tap—” I demonstrate on the orange “—or harder—a person would feel that—or, very hard.” I put the orange on the table and really thump it. The orange breaks open. Juice oozes around it and drips off the edge of the table, forming a puddle on the floor.
Isadora is silent. I wait for her reaction. Finally she says, “It is hurt?”
“The orange? If it were an animal, it would be hurt now. It’s a fruit, so you don’t have to worry; Beck was going to eat it anyway. An orange doesn’t feel pain.”
“The lady hurt your friend?”
“Not too much, but he felt persecuted; he felt as though she were treating him unfairly. So we devised a plan to retaliate. We decided to let the parrots go free.”
“The parrots were without price?”
“If you are free, you don’t belong to anyone. Being free can be a good thing: wild animals are free. But it can also be good to belong to someone because they take care of you. I belong to Alba. Alba belongs to her mother and to Beck. You belong to Beck; Beck cares for you.”
“Beck is my mother.”
“That’s right. Beck will always take care of you. If you are lost, Beck will find you. You are Beck’s daughter and she loves you.”
“Am I lost?” Isadora wonders.
“Not yet.”
“But someday? Lost forever?”
“Not forever.”
“You meet me again?”
“I will meet you in an airport in Shanghai, on my way to London. I will be a thirteen-year-old boy. You will fly with me to London. You will keep me safe and care for me.”
