The wind howled with a screeching scream; the heavenly sky was covered with menacing dark clouds that forever blacked out the mid-day sun. Snow had turned wet and heavy, falling down intermittently like Autumn rain, weighting down on each passerby like a rusty medieval coat of armor. Bare trees, striped of their Fall glory, bearing the daily punishment of harsh wind and frigid frost, bent low to mutter their misery to the frozen land. In mid-December, the winter had turned into a cynical old man on his last stand, unleashing his furious anger and thundering his soliloquy on the emptiness and meaninglessness of life and the cruelty of fate.
It was final exam week for the students in St. Stephen's, and everyone was gathering their last strand of energy and concentration for one last push for academic excellence before the start of the long-awaited Christmas vacation. For many, this meant the reunion with loving families during the most joyful season after months of separation, of isolation and quiet struggle in the microcosmic world of teens versus teens. It was a time of peaked anxiety and anticipation.
Joseph and Ben exited the examination room with long sighs of relief. It was their last exam -- Canadian history, and after weeks of force-feeding names of sparsely populated cities and shanty towns, dates of regional significant events, and persons of local interest like William Lyon Mackenzie King and Pierre Elliott Trudeau, they could now put aside the historic scripts of the young immigrant country and look forward to a return to the broader world of civilization, one where the warmth and richness of loving families awaited. Stepping outside into the piercing winter day, desolated by the many already departed boarders, it somehow did not feel unbearably cold; rather, only a breath of freshness representing the imminent start of a new order lingered. "I guess this is it," Ben exhaled summarily, "So long, Deifenbaker, or whatever the hell his name was." Joseph smiled in equal relief.
Suddenly, a tightly packed snowball hit Ben squarely in the face, sending his glasses to the ground and knocking his fragile body backwards. "Haha, Got'em!" Louis stood behind a bush and screamed victoriously in a mischievous smile. Ivan and George were not far behind. "Scram, you worm. You are not the one we want," Ivan spoke in a low, threatening tone. "Run along now, Ben. It's not your fight," Joseph commanded his only ally and turned towards his fateful nemesis. Reluctantly, Ben picked up his glasses and ran towards the dorm.
"I've been waiting for this," Ivan continued. "What's with you, huh? Proud 'n full of righteousness. Show your allegiance, Joseph. You follow me and I will let you walk." Ivan fleshed a look of sinister supremacy, staring at his smaller peer in arrogance. Louis and George, circled Joseph slowly like a pack of wolves and cracked their knuckles in anticipation of the upcoming demolition.
Joseph paused, looked around and somehow found strength within himself. He stared back at his larger foe. "I don't even know you, Ivan. I never did and I never will." Joseph spoke in a barely audible voice. In doing so he sealed his own fate.
"Well said, Joseph. But you ain't perfect and you'll never be. We'll show ya." Ivan lunged forward like a gazelle and launched a right jab at Joseph's left shoulder. Defenseless, Joseph collapsed to the ground in sharp pain. Ivan landed his knees on Joseph's chest with his tremendous weight and threw a well practiced left-right combination at Joseph's cheeks. Blood soon streamed out of Joseph's nose. Caressing his right hand with his left, Ivan stood up and uttered coldly, "Finish him." Louis and George moved in like hungry vultures ready to devour their dying prey. Soon, countless punches and kicks landed with the falling snow on every part of Joseph's body. Hugging his head with his arms, Joseph curled involuntarily like an innocuous baby. In the distant, a large black bird circled a tall leafless Maple, let out a sorrowful scream and flew away.
The deed was completed; Louis and George got up panting and heaving like tired animals from their free-willed act of violence. Ivan spit on Joseph's face as he muttered these words, "Remember your measly role in the great pyramid of food chain, fool. And remember me." The gang departed, leaving Joseph lying helplessly on the ground, trying hard to breath on the snow smeared with a Christmas shade of red.
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Ling-lai and Wah-hong arrived at Joseph's dorm early evening. Ling-lai could not recall the last time Wah-hong had driven so fast, or spoke so little during a long drive. Running to the infirmary, they found Joseph lying motionlessly on the bed heavily wrapped staring blankly at the ceiling. Housemaster Mr. Harrison was strolling back-and-forth at his side with spastic, jittery movements, looking troubled and puzzled. "Mr. and Mr. Chang, thank you for coming in a hurry. We found Joseph lying outside Building Six ... don't worry, the nurse said there is no internal bleeding or broken bones. It would be a good idea to check with a doctor tomorrow, however..."
Wah-hong and Ling-lai stared at their son, unable to believe that before their eyes laid their beloved son, bruised, battered and disfigured, in the very school they had chosen with the very best intentions.
Uneasy with the awkward silence, Mr. Harrison said, "Mr. Chang, I assure you that the incident is not racially motivated. Our school has no history and tolerance of such bigotry."
"I ask you sir, what relevance does that have now with my son lying on the bed in pain?" Wah-hong could not withhold his anger and confronted the Housemaster.
"Let's just go home Wah-hong. It's Christmas." Holding back tears, Ling-lai helped Joseph up and gathered his belongings. The snow continued to fall hard outside, as the sky grew dimmer by the minute. The white flakes, danced and twinkled under the street lights in seemingly well rehearsed and coordinated patterns, reminded all that there was beauty to be found in the worst of weathers. After loading Joseph's luggage in the trunk, Wah-hong steadily pulled the family Accord away from the driveway and headed towards their humble home in Scarborough. Lying in the back with blankets covering his wounded body, Joseph looked outside at the moving scenery upside down. The snow hit the windshield in odd and unusual angles as the car swirled, imparting nature's authentic imprints on the see-through canvas. "Hey, it's Christmas outside," Joseph spoke as he looked up the sky. Ling-lai and Wah-hong listened attentively. "Merry Christmas," Joseph said. Wah-long drove away silently.
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