School: A coming of age

The time had arrived, finally, for young William to be initated, for the first time, into the world of education. Bessie enrolled him at Relic of Shen Elementary School, for his father did not feel so inclined.

The first day - perhaps needless to say - was catastrophic. William was hotly anticipating his first sport lesson. In the garden, whenever he could muster up the energy, he had always been kicking a tatty, ancient football against the wall; it was lonely, though. He had always longed for a team-mate.

Getting changed was a strange affair. William locked himself in a cubicle, for he did not feel that he could face the judgemental eyes of his new peers. Despite the sizeable gap under the door, he felt his modesty was safe.

The boys lined up on the field, ready for teams to be chosen for softball. A teacher with a handlebar moustache picked the "Crow" team, and a wiser-looking man picked the "Bluebird" team. William eagerly hoped he would be chosen for the "Bluebirds".

In no time at all, there were just four people left, awaiting their destined team. William's hope faded quickly - and as he had feared, he was indeed the last to be chosen. And much worse, that he was induced into the "Crows".

The moustachioed teacher blew the whistle, and the softball game commenced. Despite the name, William, by the end of the match, did not consider it to be a very soft ball at all. His team's tabards were black... and yet, why did other black-tabard-wearing boys constantly deliberately aim at his head with the ball, or merely avoid passing the ball to him - their fellow team-mate! - at all? Particularly distinguishable was a bulky child with big cheeks and a dark monobrow.

"To me, school is already a place of woe," pondered William miserably, whilst he ate the bland school dinner - his best meal in months - at a table on his own.

"Oi!" a voice boomed reproachfully from behind where William was sitting. He turned around, and gulped slightly to find that it was the monobrowed boy from his own team.

"Did you want something?" William replied timidly.

"I did, yeah. And that happens to be your lunch money, sucker."

"I d-d-d-don't have any. All my lunch is r-right here."

Out of nowhere, two equally bulky children had joined the monobrowed child. They were sneering in a similarly menacing manner. William gulped.

"Let's get him, boys," the leader of the bullies said.

William's heart was pounding now. Everyone else in the canteen had seemingly disappeared within the space of one second. He had no possible defence plans. His only weapon was to run; or perhaps he was small and scrawny enough to slide under the table.

So with an abrupt slam to the floor, William went under the table, hoping this would put him at an advantage against the tall bullies; who had made a grab for him at the leader's command. He felt a tinge of glee as he crawled out from under the table, out of the trajectory of the bullies' punches.

Then he felt a tug at his foot. One of the shorter bullies, with ginger hair - rather an abnormality for a Chinese child - was standing on William's loose shoelace. He then proceeded to yank the shoe, which was two sizes too big, off his foot.

"Got it, Albert!" the red-haired boy waved the shoe in the air like a victory prize.

William was still lying on the ground, unable to believe this had happened on his very first day of school. He closed his eyes, and submitted a silent prayer to anyone, anything, that this would stop.

When he looked up, he saw his shoe dangling from a roof beam. He groaned

Then, he saw Bessie at the door.

"It's hometime, William," she said soothingly. "Why are you laying on the floor?"

"I don't know. All I know, is that I can't carry going to school. Let me go home. And please arrange for someone to help me get my shoe back."

Infancy: "It started from his birth"

25th October 1990 - 6.13 am - Taipei

"I can't push any longer!"

The exhausted sigh escaped her lips as she sank back on the pillows, her dark hair falling, damp, over her brow. She couldn't take any more pain. It was just too hard.

"Come on, he's nearly here." The nurse with the grey eyes murmured encouragingly. "Just one last, big push."

The half-dead woman, too weak even to cry, shook her head in mute denial; but she knew she had to do something to end these fifty-two hours of agonising labour. She closed her eyes and whispered a swift prayer, and pushed with all the last strength of her will.

She screamed one last time, and then the baby was out. She looked to the window, and dimly saw two crows, perched, looking in curiously at this spectacle of life and death.

"What will you name him?" The nurse asked urgently, seeing that her patient was fading fast.

"William..." She whispered in reply; and when the nurse turned to place William in his mother's arms, she saw that it was already too late. The young woman would never hold her son.

*

William's father was a good example of a bad father. Absent from the birth, he arrived too late to make any impact on his wife's failing health; instead, he was present with a squalling, smelly infant, wrapped in hospital sheets with a little tag around his littler wrist, proclaiming the word "WILLIAM". Astounded by this turn of events, he had not the sense nor the desire to look after William himself. So it was that, even from an early age, William was forced to fend for himself. At first he was a thin, staring little child, learning the arts of both walking and talking later than the other children in his area; in fact, many supposed that he was perhaps stupid or disabled in some mental capacity.

The simple, sad truth of the matter was, William's father often forgot to feed him. Only the presence of an aged servant, who went by the inexplicable name of Bessie, could account for his continued grip on life: at times she would remember his existence and hurry to give him a bottle. Thus it was, also, that he did not start solid food until one day, when he was several months past the usual age, his father forced a grain of rice into his hungry mouth. Then it was that William began to grow.

One day, playing casually in the kitchen, he saw a crow fly in through the window, peck at a few morsels of rice upon the table, and fly out again. Heartened by this example, he began to steal food whenever possible, and eventually grew at a normal rate; until finally, at the age of four and three quarters, he was just the same as others his age.

But, as with the others his age, school must follow soon. Although his father nearly forgot to enrol him, crisis was averted by the intervention of Bessie; and all was set for William's school career to begin.

Prophecy: For one moment, the story of Da-Xia

Sixteenth century, during the Ming dynasty. A girl, Da-Xia, is walking through the countryside of Jiangsu. The sun is out, but, but it is a rather cold day. She is enjoying nature. Out of the blue, she hears the chime of bells from the nearby village, and takes this as a sign that she needs to get back. Young women shouldn't be out in the wild on their own, after all. They should be helping their mothers make silk.

Da-Xia makes her way back to the village, the pathway surrounded by lychee trees. What beautiful fruits, she remarks in her head, admiring them as she walks along. But all of a sudden, something off catches Da-Xia's eye. A piece of...

"Paper?" she asks out loud. And it is hanging on the branch, dancing in the breeze. A low branch, at that. Who could resist?

Checking that nobody is watching her - for she, let us not forget, is a girl getting herself into many misadventures - the curious Da-Xia stands on her tiptoes, and lifts her hands up. She is quite surprised to find that the piece of paper was well within her reach. Not three seconds later was it firmly clasped in her warm hand. She opens up the little piece of paper - it had been folded into quarters. And on it were some strange-looking characters.

Da-Xia cannot read.

This meant she would need to ask her older brother, Bohai.

Back at the family home, after dinner, she took him to one side. "Hey, I need to ask you a favour."

"Anything, little sister."

"Could you tell me what this says?"
Bohai's face went blank. "Where did you get this from?"

"To tell you the truth... I found it."
"It could belong to somebody important, you know, and we will get in trouble if we get found out."

"Just don't tell Father, and we'll be fine." Da-Xia sighed. Not for the first time ever, she reflected upon the fact that her brother was intelligent - but often overly cautious.

"Very well." Bohai took a deep breath. "After the delicious consumption of this cookie, a fortune awaits. Depending on the beholder's actions, though. the consequences of this fate could be disastrous. At any given time, a boy of the name William will be born. True; many boys of the name William will be born. But this one is a rather different story. After it is realised that he is the William you have waited for, it will be far, far too late."

Both Da-Xia and Bohai had been so mesmerised by the words of this prophecy, that they had not even noticed that the pleasant spring day was now greying.

The sounds of all chirping birds had also disappeared.

All that was left was the shadow of a crow - which then landed at the feet of the siblings - looking up at them with a certain sense of the sinister.

The Story of William: An Introduction

This is the story of a particular story. It was named after the hero of the story, the poor boy whom the story was about, and so the story follows the hero of the story through his birth, life, and untimely death. This story is like no other story ever told by a storyteller ever... ever. And this is the story of that story.

It all began one dark and wintr'y day, when the wind was harsh and the crows were swooping to the ground, and one boy, by the name, the fateful name, the accursed name of WILLIAM stood out in the elements, seemingly alone. But he was not alone. William was never, ever alone... ever. He was watched, you see, by your faithful narrators; and so, these narrators decided to narrate a narrative, a story, a story about a boy, a story about William. And what you are about to read...

... Is that story.