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My name is Chalk, and yesterday, I received the news that someone at home was critically ill.
I was familiar with the number but I couldn’t recall who it belonged to.
The person on the other end claimed to be a doctor and he requested that I went over as soon as possible to Number 1 People’s Hospital to sign some documents.
After a brief period of shock, I remembered that this number belonged to Granny.
I came from a single parent family and was raised by my grandparents until I was about five years old.
I hold almost no memories of the time before I was seven.
Grandfather died early and Granny had never been in good health.
I was sent to and fro between kindergarten and school.
There wasn’t any issue during kindergarten, but in elementary school, full-time care became difficult.
Whenever I got a new form teacher, Granny would make a call to discuss care arrangements for me.
I don’t know what they talked about but Granny had a way of getting things done.
From what I knew, she was ill and unable to take care of me, and if no one took over her role, I would be all on my own.
Nevertheless, I went to classes with my classmates in the day and stayed in the classroom to do my assignments after school.
My teacher would send me home after work; it was something Granny made sure every form teachers did.
I had a total of three form teachers, from elementary to middle school graduation.
Two were language teachers while the other was a sports teacher.
I spent a decent amount of time in their houses.
I finally became independent in senior high and stayed in the dormitory.
Most people spent the majority of their time at home or, at least, more than in school, isn’t it?
I, on the other hand, spent most of my time in school, and as little time at home as in the school’s toilet.
My grades weren’t bad since I was trapped in such an environment and had nothing much to do other than to study.
With my form teacher as my temporary guardian, it was no wonder that language became my best subject. I did pretty well for others as well but that took more effort.
I had the most fun in my third year of junior high, however, when the sports teacher became my form teacher.
There were no dorms in junior high.
My sports teacher was Mr. Pang, and everyone called him Dahai.
Pang Dahai was his full name, and unlike the other two teachers, he had no family of his own.
He was a bachelor and possessed all traits of a bachelor.
His single room dormitory became our house.
He wasn’t initially agreeable, but after some thought, he brought a double-decker bed into the house and moved the single one away.
We moved in and he chose the bottom bunk.
I discovered, upon growing up, that a good teacher had to do the necessary preparations for classes.
I also noted that sports teachers had no such requirements.
Dahai’s lessons consisted of free time and an examination.
After an examination, he would have us do whatever we want.
I was different.
Initially, I stayed in class after school to do some work. However, later on, I would just go over to Teacher’s house.
None of my classmates understood why I stayed in class since I often gave them excuses.
Fortunately, assignments in junior high were plenty so it would be night time by time I was done.
I would go back and watch TV with Teacher Pang.
I first smoked and drank in the dorm, although the smell of smoke was something I couldn’t bear.
Alcohol, on the other hand, was good stuff.
During junior high, I had no idea what other students were like.
Whenever exams were approaching, I would find it difficult to sleep, as if there was something bothering me deep down.
I had no parents and only Dahai knew that.
“Cheers ” He would smile and take two bottles of beer out.
It helped, but Dahai emphasized that I mustn’t tell anyone about the things he taught me.
He hid his alcohol in his room despite the fact that teachers seldom inspected a fellow teacher’s room.
Nevertheless, he hid them well.
I remembered drinking white wine in his house for the first time. That thing was too strong.
From then on, I started associating the smell of white wine with that of the disinfectant spray in hospitals.
Teacher Pang wasn’t a heavy drinker but he enjoyed sipping on it while watching TV and snacking.
Because of him, I became motivated to become a sports teacher.
I started growing taller and eventually fatter.
In my third year, I was 1.8 meter and 108 kg.
Teacher Pang moved to the top bunk of our bed, in fear that I would cause the whole bed to collapse.
After the switch, he also forced me to run rounds frequently.
I have no idea why but I stopped growing taller after leaving Dahai.
Teacher Pang was the kind of man who could maintain his weight despite eating a lot.
As I’ve mentioned, I stayed in school a lot to finish up my school work.
The students who were suspicious about it finally found out that I was living with Teacher Pang.
Private discussions exploded.
I was never given pocket money so having money at hand was a surreal experience.
I charged five dollars per student to change their P.E. grades.
Teacher Pang wrote the students’ grades down in pencil, so I simply erase them and replace the respective grades when he was asleep.
I opened this business to my classmates at first, but it quickly expanded to the whole school.
In the third year, we had three sports teachers to look after 30 classes.
I had probably altered the grades of a third of Teacher Pang’s students without getting discovered, fortunately.
Thinking back to the third year makes me smile foolishly even to this day.
I had no mobile phone back then and I only got my first one with my own money during the summer break of senior high.
As such, I did not keep Teacher Pang’s contact number. I had no QQ account then so I lost contact with all my classmates and Dahai.
I did revisit the school to look for him, but he was no longer there.
From senior high to university life, I wasn’t any different from other students.
However, the bad habits I had learned in Dahai’s dorm followed through my remaining school life. I even passed them onto other students.
Upon university graduation, I found a decent job and stayed in the office’s dorm.
I received practically no news from home.
As I’ve mentioned, I lost Dahai’s contact, but the day after we separated, Dahai left Granny’s number with me.
I was supposed to pass it to the next form teacher. He handed it to me, saying that I would be the only one with her number from then on.
I memorized the number, which became the only memory that I attached to Granny.
Because I deactivated the malware, my phone would retrieve information from the address book.
As such, I developed the habit of not saving numbers and memorizing them instead.
The doctor hung up the phone and I looked at the number on the screen.
Memories, covered in dust, started surfacing in my head.