To the Chinese sailors who rest in St. John’s Cemetery, Newcastle upon Tyne

To those who sacrificed their lives to defend their hometown

To all the children in the world

 

Not far from the ancient river, there is a small, quiet cemetery. Whenever spring comes, clusters of white, yellow, and purple flowers bloom on the grassland of the cemetery. A thousand years ago, when people celebrated Beltane, they picked delicate flowers from such bushes, wove them into flower garlands to wear on their heads, or hung strings of the garlands on their doors to pray for a bountiful harvest of the new year. Time flows with the river, people came and left, old tombstones fell, new graves were erected, and wildflowers on the grassland still bloom on time every spring. Fox Alex cautiously walked between the tombstones. Alex is not a timid fox, but there are too many dangerous things. Last Friday, a cat bared its teeth at Alex. The day before yesterday, Alex almost had his eye scratched by the sword-like leaves of the iris. Last night, Alex was startled by the fluttering ivy–Alex doesn’t like ivy. Its branches were long and dense, and it would move with a gentle breeze, like a living creature. Alex always felt that these vines would suddenly grab him when Alex wasn’t paying attention, and drag him to some dark and bottomless place. Alex would never see the red dogwood fruit, yellow buttercup, and the rushing river water again, or the rainbow under the sunshine.

Alex moved his left front leg, lightly stepped on the damp lichen. It’s sunset now, and Alex is going to have dinner. Alex felt a bit nostalgic for the chips and meat pies he found in the bins, so the young fox decided to take a risk and search for them in the bins next to the road near the cemetery. Perhaps Alex would have good luck today.

Just as Alex took the next step, a voice startled him and made him tremble all over.

“Little fox, here!”

Ah, it is Thunder, one of the ghosts of those Chinese sailors. Alex has been able to see things that humans cannot see since childhood. There are many ghost children in the cemetery, some of whom are still nibbling on their thumbs and speaking vaguely. Their mother’s accent carries an ancient wheat scent. The accent of that Chinese sailor ghost is different from others, and when he greets Alex, Alex is always startled by his loud voice. It’s like a thunder.

“Where’s Boxer? ”Alex asked as he walked towards Thunder. Boxer is another Chinese sailor ghost.

“He went out to look for something. Today we’re all looking for what we lost.”

“What did you lose? “Alex put his fluffy big tail aside and lay on the ground, asking.

“You know that we have been sleeping for almost a hundred years. Two years ago, someone repaired our grave, and we woke up again. You met us at that time, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Alex gently wagged his tail.

“Recently, someone came to visit us again and brought us a photo and a painting of our hometown,” Thunder continued, “unfortunately, after a thunderstorm, these gifts, including an aircraft carrier model that others had given us before, all disappeared.” Thunder spoke loudly, and a disappointed expression appeared on his translucent face. “We have been away from our hometown for almost 140 years! Those things are precious treasures to us, but before we could take a good look at that photo and painting, they disappeared. Look, those people came across the sea from our hometown specifically to find this quiet cemetery, just to offer us a bouquet of flowers, a gift, and tell us how peaceful and tranquil life is in our hometown today. This is something we have never experienced when we were alive.”

“I know what it feels like,” Alex said, “just like I was bullied by stray cats when I was a child.” Alex still clearly remembers that when he was still gray and small, like a potato, he and other siblings followed their mother all day long to hide under the threat of stray cats. Those cats are fierce, greedy, and cruel–they constantly occupy the hills with forests and drive the animals living in the forests out of their homes.

“We’ve tried every possible way,” said Thunder sadly, “but we can’t move during the day, and we can’t see clearly at night. Although we’ve searched the entire cemetery, we’ve found nothing. Little fox, please help us find our lost things.”

“Why would I agree to help you?”

“Because we can bring you a freshly thrown bolognese from a nearby restaurant at night. You like bolognese the most, don’t you? But you can’t go through glass and cement.”

“Deal!” Alex said, “But these things were lost after it rained. I’m afraid the painting has been soaked by the rain.”

“Fortunately, the painting is covered in plastic and won’t get wet. That photo won’t get wet either.”

“What are their characteristics?”

We’re not sure neither,” Thunder shrugged. “I think that photo is about the size of my hand. There’s green on that painting, and the warship model has numbers marked on its hull.”

“But you already have three models,” Alex pointed his tail at the sailors’ graves. “What’s the impact of losing one?”

“We must carefully touch and watch an object in order to truly possess it, and we have not yet carefully examined that model. Moreover, for us, each model represents our hometown.”

“Okay,” Alex said, “I need to take a nap before starting work.”

The next day, before the sun had risen to the top of the cemetery church tower, Alex had already searched the entire cemetery. As ghosts said, the lost things are not in the cemetery. Alex must go further away.

“Bad luck!” Alex said, hoping he wouldn’t encounter any cats.

Alex needs clues. It would be best to ask the hedgehog family living under the beech tree, as hedgehogs are always well-informed. The fox walked under the beech tree and lifted hiss paw, tapping on the trunk with a thud.

“Who disturbed the people here early in the morning?” A cursed voice came from underground, “Be careful or I’ll prick your nose with thorns!”

“It’s me, Alex the Fox. I’m sorry to disturb your dream, but I’m going crazy right now. Only you can help me!”

“Alex?” An old hedgehog poked her head out of the grass under the roots of the tree. “What difficult thing have you encountered? Are you so anxious that you even shed tears?”

Alex told old hedgehog about the lost item search. “Oh,” the old hedgehog said, “it’s hard to find. I think my grandchildren might know something.” The old hedgehog crawled back into her hole and shouted, “Who took someone else’s things?”

“No, grandma!”

The old hedgehog crawled deep into the cave, and Alex couldn’t hear what the hedgehogs were saying, only the old hedgehog’s reprimand could be heard. After a long time, the old hedgehog returned to the ground with a sleepy little hedgehog in her mouth.

“Tell Alex, have you seen a hard photo yesterday?” The old hedgehog said sternly.

The little hedgehog lowered his head and said, “I’ve seen it before.”

“Where did you see that photo?” Alex asked gently.

“At Pete’s home.”

“Who is Pete? Where does he live?” Alex asked.

“Pete is a bulldog who lives in the outermost brown house in the middle second row, two streets east of the cemetery.”

“That’s really far,” Alex said, “and it’s a hot headed bulldog.”

“Pete is not bad,” the little hedgehog argued, “he found it while out for a walk. If it’s your thing, he’ll give it back to you.”

“I’ll ask Pete,” Alex said. “Have you ever seen a small plastic boat with the number 17 written on the left hull and yellow and white lines painted on the deck?”

“He doesn’t know about this,” the old hedgehog said. “Let me tell you. None of my children have ever seen such a thing, but the green painting you mentioned, they heard from the field mouse, seems to have been taken away by some pigeons.”

“Oh my holy berries,” Alex said, “can we still find this back?”

Who knows?” Said the old hedgehog, “Good luck to you.”

The old hedgehog returned to the cave with the little hedgehog, and Alex sat under the tree, lost in thought for a while. The sun rises into the sky, and birds chirp on the trees. Some magpies that stayed up all night last night plunged into the hedge and greedily drank dew. Alex decided to inquire with them.

“Hi, did you play crazy last night?” Alex said to a magpie. The magpie looked up and continued to drink the dew from the leaves.

“Still having a great time,” said the magpie lazily. “Alex, did you have a big meal last night? Your beard smells like tomato sauce.”

“I’m helping others find things,” Alex told Magpie about helping the navy ghosts find things.

“Oh,” the magpie said in its lazy tone, “why should I tell you?”

“Because I can help you find the seeds hidden by squirrels.”

“I will find these myself,” the magpie yawned. “Valuable information should be exchanged for valuable information.”

“I don’t think you happen to be interested in the gathering of stray cats, do you? I heard they’re planning something, like they’re going to a meeting in the back alley of a bar this Friday night.”

“These stray cats,” the magpie complained, “have never been peaceful. Well, regarding the green painting you mentioned, you can look for it in the bins at the bus stop. If it didn’t, don’t have to look for it, it must have been taken away by the garbage truck. As for the plastic toy boat, it’s probably in some crow’s nest. I’m going to sleep, take care.”

Alex watched the magpie fly back to the nest in the tree, then skillfully crawled through the iron fence and ran to the vicinity of the bus stop, carefully observing the surroundings. Not a single human, Alex hurriedly ran to the bin and jumped into it to search. At this moment, Alex heard the sound of a cat.

“Who allowed you to rummage through the garbage here?” A cat screamed, “Get out of here!”

Alex was so scared that his ears were pressed tightly against his head. “I’ll leave right away,” he shouted, “but you’d better not move around, otherwise I’ll take necessary measures!”

The stray cat bent its back, revealing fine-needle-like teeth. Alex didn’t want to be bitten or scratched by the cat at all. He let out a roar and revealed his teeth. At this moment, Alex’s paw touched a slippery rectangular object. He wanted to look down, but the stray cat pounced and Alex had to dodge. The sound of their fighting startled several pigeons, and suddenly an animal rushed over. Alex was extremely scared, but the animal didn’t harm him. Instead, it stood between Alex and the stray cat.

“Good morning! Why are you fighting?” The animal said, wagging its tail at the stray cat. “The sunshine is so good.”

“Go away, you stupid dog!” Shouted the stray cat.

“But you’re bullying my friend!”

“Friend!” The stray cat sneered, “That’s a fox, not a dog!”

But the dog didn’t back down, the stray cat glared at it for a moment, then turned around and left.

“Thanks, mate!” Alex said. He is still trembling.

“You do look a lot like a fox.” said the dog.

“You do look a lot like a fox.” Alex said to the dog. The dog wagged its tail and said, “You don’t seem to be looking for food.” Alex told the dog about the lost item search.

“You can see ghosts?” The dog said, “There used to be people in my family who could see ghosts, such as my grandfather who could see my master’s grandfather. He was a ghost who worked as a carpenter and sat on the stairs every day. It is said that he was killed in a bombing at home.”

Alex nodded absentmindedly and reached out his paws to scoop the slippery rectangular plastic piece out of the trash can. Alex saw a green forest above and unfamiliar text. Good luck!

“Can you do me a favor?” Alex asked, finding a plastic bag, putting the painting in the bag, and then holding the bag in his mouth.

“Of course! You can call me Peach, because my fur colour is like peach.”

“Is this the name your master gave you?”

“No, it’s been three years since I left my master’s house. The animals on the street call me that.”

“Okay, Peach, if you’re not afraid of humans catching you, can you come with me to visit another dog?”

“Oh, this is my favourite! But we still need to be careful not to be taken away by humans.”

Soon they arrived at the home of Bulldog Pete. “If he bites me, kick him and we leave quickly.” Alex said.

“I don’t think Pete would bite you. He smells like a very passionate dog.”

“Whatever you say.” Alex cautiously stepped into the yard, and the bulldog immediately noticed it.

“Shh!” Alex said, “I’m here to help others find things.”

“You think I believe it, fox?” Said the bulldog. Alex told the bulldog about the ghosts.

“I did find a photo,” the bulldog said, “but I don’t believe in ghosts. If you don’t leave soon, I’ll roar.”

Alex didn’t want to give up. He emerged from the yard and saw Peach still standing on the roadside, so he said to him, “I’ll go catch the bulldog’s attention later, you go dig out the photo.” Peach wagged its tail.

Alex jumped onto the top of the fence and said to the bulldog: “Do you think humans can fly?”

“Oh, of course!” Said the bulldog. “Humans made me fly into the sky and put me in a box, that’s too scary. But humans are not afraid.”

“So do you think humans are afraid of ghosts?” Alex said.

“Ghosts don’t exist at all,” the bulldog said. “If there were ghosts, why didn’t I see my old master? He was sent away in a wheelchair and never came back.”

“He may still be alive,” Alex said, seeing Peach digging a hole in the corner of the yard.

“Why didn’t he come home to see me?”

“Why don’t you go to see him?” Alex said.

“I will be caught as a stray dog,” said the bulldog, lying dejectedly on the ground. Alex quickly found the photo of the peach buried when he saw it.

“You see, life is so short. But I think everyone remembers your old master, otherwise why did they put flowers and candles around to your old master’s photo?”

“So my old master is indeed dead,” said the bulldog, tears welling up in his eyes. “I miss him very much.”

Alex saw that Peach had already received the photo and was quietly walking outside the yard.

“I have a way for you to meet your old master,” Alex said. “Close your eyes and count to a thousand, and you’ll be able to see him.”

“How is this possible?” Said the bulldog.

“Just close your eyes and count.” Alex said, quietly leaving the yard. Peach is waiting outside. Alex looked at the photo and saw a beautiful warship docked at the port. There’s only the model,” Alex said, “but how can I find it?”

“Why not ask the seagulls? Seagulls know a lot.” Peach suggested. Alex sniffed the ground and followed the scent to find a group of seagulls eating French fries. Alex walked towards a seagull and asked if she had seen a warship model.

“I’ve seen too many warship models in my life,” said the seagull. “Many of them sank to the bottom of the river.” Alex thought for a moment and showed the seagull the photos.

“The hull is written with 17, isn’t it?” Said the seagull, and many seagulls curiously gathered around. “I’ve seen this ship before!” Said a seagull. “A crow took it south.” Alex asked the seagull to lead the way, and they avoided humans and arrived at another place where seagulls gathered. Alex showed the photo to the seagulls, but none of them recognised the ship in the photo. “You should go ask the pigeons.” said a seagull. There were too many humans on the road, so Alex decided to hide in the bushes for the night.

The next day, Alex and Peach found a group of pigeons, hoping to find useful information. A white pigeon saw the photo and recognised it. “A crow took it away,” said the white dove, “it’s on the tallest tree in the park.”

“What should I do?” Alex said.

Peach wagged its tail. “Let’s go ask the crow.”

Alex had no hope, but he still went to find the crow. The crow heard that Alex wanted his toy and said: “Ten glass marbles for it, not even one less.”

“I know who can get ten glass marbles,” Peach said, “Cats can.”

“No way!” Alex said, “Cats can’t be trusted.”

“Why not give it a try?” Peach said, “We can go ask our domestic cat friends.”

Alex almost wanted to give up, but thinking of the sailors’ disappointed expressions, he regained his confidence. Alex saw a ginger yellow cat lying on the window basking in the sun and boldly greeted it. The cat opened its eyes and then closed them.

“Hello, I would like someone to help me find ten glass marbles.” Alex said.

“I have a hundred glass marbles, and if you want them, you need a reasonable reason.”

“I need to help someone exchange something very important.”

“Can this thing cause a cat-dog battle?”

“I guess not?”

“What can it do?”

Alex thought for a moment. “Let someone see their hometown that they haven’t been back to for many years.”

The cat didn’t speak. After a while, the cat said: “Can you show me my hometown?”

“Where is your hometown?”

“Swansea.”

“Oh!” Peach exclaimed excitedly, “I know what Swansea is like. There are many sheep there!” Peach said a long string of words that no one could understand. Miraculously, the big cat responded to Peach with the same words, and the cat and dog chatted for a long time.

“Take these ten marbles,” the cat gave them ten glass marbles and lay on the windowsill to bask in the sun.

“You’re really amazing!” Alex said to Peach. They backed to meet the crow, and the crow exchanged with them satisfactorily. By the time Alex returned to the cemetery with all three retrieved items, the sun was already setting. The sailors are all waiting outside the grave.

“I did it!” Alex said, returning the thing to the ghosts. The ghosts held the photo and the painting and shouted in surprise.

“It’s a school, it’s a school!” Shouted a ghost, “There’s a school in my hometown village!”

Ghosts surrounded their lost treasures and shed tears of joy.

Peach shook its head and said: “Is it my imagination, or are all the flowers on the ground suddenly blooming?”

“It’s true, all the flowers in the cemetery are blooming,” Alex said in surprise. “These flowers have never bloomed so lush before.”

“These flowers can bloom until autumn.” Peach said.

“Will you miss your hometown?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know where my hometown is.” Peach said.

“Do you want to go look for it?” Alex said, “I want to temporarily leave the cemetery and go further away. Do you want to go with me?”

“Of course! Where are we going?”

“How about starting from Swansea?”

Read Cultural Collision and Fusion by Yufei Zhong