Page 29 of Don't Point at the Moon

“How was the flight?”

“Cool.”

“Any turbulence?”

“Some.”

“Did you manage to get any sleep?”

“Not much.”

“How did you find the instructions I gave you for the airport?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Mitchell decided the curt responses were a result of tiredness and deferred to silence after attempting a few more questions and getting abrupt responses. When the doors to the climate-controlled airport slid closed behind them and they strolled out into the sunlight and stifling heat, he noticed Zane unzipping his jacket. Zane waited until they had settled in the back of the air-conditioned taxi and Mitchell had rattled off his home address in Cantonese using words and tones Mrs Lau had taught him.

“Look, I know why I’m here. Mum and Dad need to sort out Gran and the last thing they want is me tagging along, getting in the way. And they don’t trust me to stay home and look after the house. So here I am. I don’t want to be here, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want me here either—”

“Hold on a minute. That’s not true—”

“Uncle—Mitchell. I’m young but I’m not stupid. Mum never stops talking about your high-powered bank job that keeps you busy all year round. I wouldn’t want me here either. Aunt Pat—Dad’s sister—is taking Jules to Spain. Nobody asked me if I wanted to go. Probably because they thought I’d be in the way. And they’re probably right. They’ve got young kids and don’t want to have to fret about me, too.”

“Hang on. Would you have gone to Spain?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not. Would have been nice to have been asked.”

“Did you say anything to your mother?”

“She’s got enough on her plate, hasn’t she?”

Mitchell had only ever heard his sister’s perspective of her family. Maybe their time together would prove insightful. At nineteen, Zane seemed to be on the verge of resigning himself to people not wanting to engage him.

“Mum probably told you I don’t have friends. I do. Plenty. Other gamers. We chat regularly, almost every night.”

Mitchell did not consider online friends real friends, but kept that judgement to himself. Instead, he chose to give Zane some local facts.

“Fair enough. But if you want to continue gaming here, or whatever you call it, remember we’re eight hours ahead of the UK.”

When Mitchell turned to him Zane was frowning, appearing to process what had been said. Eventually he emitted an exaggerated sigh, as though Mitchell had delivered yet another death blow.

“You mean it’s one o’clock in the morning right now?”

“It’s nine in the morning here in Hong Kong. Get your head around that first. You may experience jet lag, which is quite natural. But I find it’s best not to keep converting back.”

“My friends are online from eight or nine at night. At home.”

“Which will be four or five in the morning here. You get to have a good night’s sleep before you join them.”

The lighthearted comment fell on deaf ears.

“Look, Zane, try to relax. You’ll figure things out and adjust like I had to when I got here. As for Spain… When you’ve finished your studies, you’ll have plenty of chances to visit Europe. You’re out here now, on the other side of the world. Not many youngsters get to experience this, so I suggest you make the most of it. Let's get you settled back at my place. Then, if you’re up to it, we’ll go meet some of my friends for lunch. Okay?”

Next to him, Zane said nothing.

“Zane?”

“I suppose.”

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