Out of the Rainforest

By River Horns

Xiaofeng returned to the military farm in the rainforest after graduating high school. It was located in a valley obscured by dense forests and mountains. His mother soon warned him to stay away from Donna because that girl, one year younger than him, was a little wild. She was afraid that Donna would ruin her son's future. He was seventeen years old at the time. With his big dreams in mind and his parents' expectations, he was determined to leave the mountains and forests.

 

To him, Donna was very different. While fate brought her and him together, it did not reveal its intent. What occurred next was unknown to his mother and could never have been foreseen by him. Xiaofeng and Donna couldn't resist their attraction for one another and fell in love, but could their romantic and bitter teenage first love last through time, space, and growth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Riverhorns Publishing
• Release date: Aug 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781778222450

River Horns

河歌，来自中缅交界的边境丛林。当过伐木工，中学教师和大学教授，居住加拿大。职业为公务员。出版的作品有小说和诗歌。

Book preview

Out of

the Rainforest

Can the first and bitter love survive?

River Horns

Story Introduction

Xiaofeng returned to the military farm in the rainforest after graduating high school. It was located in a valley obscured by dense forests and mountains. His mother soon warned him to stay away from Donna because that girl, one year younger than him, was a little wild. She was afraid that Donna would ruin her son's future. He was seventeen years old at the time. With his big dreams in mind and his parents' expectations, he was determined to leave the mountains and forests.

To him, Donna was very different. While fate brought her and him together, it did not reveal its intent. What occurred next was unknown to his mother and could never have been foreseen by him. Xiaofeng and Donna couldn't resist their attraction for one another and fell in love, but could their romantic and bitter teenage first love last through time, space, and growth?

OUT OF THE RAINFOREST

Copyright © 2022 by River Horns.

All rights reserved. Printed in Canada. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For information contact: [e-mail]

Book and Cover design by River Horns

ISBN: 978-1-7782224-5-0

First Edition: July 2022

Table of Content

Story Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Author

Chapter 1

In high school, my impression of girls was almost blank. Boys played together, and girls played together. There was a line dividing the whole class into two worlds. I was the only boy in my class who shared a desk with a girl. No one wanted to mention the reason behind this.

My deskmate was Yalan Bai. She and I had been in the same class since high school. We started in another class, but a dramatic event caused it to dissolve, and we were assigned to the current class as transfer students.

The existence of her and me, and our extra desk, seemed out of tune with everything in the class as if deliberately reminding people of a bitter past.

Although Yalan and I were at the same desk and were close at hand, we rarely interacted. Occasional greetings between us were often shared and laughed at by our classmates. The desk was engraved with a deep central line by the former students. She and I were divided. I did not think she was any different from the other girls in the class, other than noticing that her bangs were slightly curly.

That was the case in those days. The forbidden world was everywhere.

On the day I graduated from high school, many parents gathered early outside the courtyard walls, cried, and asked the school to return their children. The police invited them to the auditorium. Our graduation ceremony was not held on the playground as initially planned but in the classroom. The school principal, serving as a military representative, did not come to speak, and there was no music or singing.

On behalf of the school, the headteacher presented the diplomas and gave us some encouraging words. The remaining dozens of undistributed diplomas were still in the cardboard boxes on the podium. They constantly beat with the wind blowing in from the window, and the headteacher used one hand to hold them from time to time.

On the striped walls of the classroom, there were still posted the compositions of those students who failed to come to receive their diplomas, as a souvenir for them, with the words: I am a dandelion, I am the screw of the revolution.

The headteacher finally said with emotion: Students, you have officially graduated! She put her hands on her chest, tears in her eyes, and the graduation certificates in the carton seemed to be spiritual as they flew up in the classroom. They spun around. The headteacher covered the box and looked at the flying papers in panic. The classmates by the window quickly closed all the windows. We picked up the diplomas on the ground and quietly put them back into the box.

The headteacher held the box tightly and left the classroom. We looked at the giant characters on the blackboard, Broad World, Great Expectations and after looking at each other for a long time, we realized that we were free and about to go our separate ways and start our journey. The journey of life.

We all walked out of the classroom. The girls gathered together, and the boys gathered together. The two worlds looked at each other, both wanting to say and do something. Under the palm trees, I suddenly found many beautiful and charming girls in the class in the rippling sun and breeze. I had no idea why I hadn’t seen it before. Maybe they were dressed too beautifully on this day, and many of them wore their ethnic costumes to show off their appearance. Maybe their faces had less cover-up and more of their true colors. And my deskmate, Yalan, was the most beautiful of them all! I didn’t know when she had turned into a butterfly, with a proud chest and a charming face.

I burst into inspiration and shouted: Let’s play a game! Everyone responded gleefully, throwing their school bags in the corner of the wall.

I don’t remember the name of the game we played at that time. I just remember that we were chasing and frolicking in the palm grove. Boys chased girls, girls chased boys, and the frolic spread all over the campus. In my eyes, the only person in focus was my deskmate Yalan, running with two coconuts flying on her chest.

I finally had a chance to chase after her. She nimbly interspersed among the classmates and dodged behind the trees, teasing me as she made funny faces from time to time. I didn’t want to grab her too quickly. I wanted her to run around a little longer and liked how she flashed around in front of me. But soon, the male classmates started laughing at me, and someone pushed me and stumped me. I had to chase after her, waving my hand to grab her arm, but she suddenly turned around, and my hand scratched her chest. Her buttons flew off, her flesh-colored bra exposed, and then she slapped me loudly, calling me a hooligan.

The male classmates gathered around, shoved me, and scolded me, calling me a bastard, which ruined everyone’s good mood. The female classmates hugged Yalan, helped her cover her breasts, built a barrier, and listened to her cry. Immediately, the palm forest was covered with dark clouds, and I noticed that the sun was fading. This mistake of mine made me the target of all.

A little later, our class monitor came over. She grabbed my arm and sleeve and said to everyone: I’ll ask him to plead guilty to this. Let’s go. She dragged me into the classroom and whispered: I saw it; it was an accident. You hide in the classroom for a while, and I’ll go out and have a look. Before leaving the room, she smiled at me and said, Everyone will remember you, you rascal, for the rest of their lives.

It gradually became quiet outside, and the students dispersed in disappointment.

I felt so guilty that I sat alone at my desk. I thought I didn’t do it on purpose, but I wondered if I might have wanted to subconsciously. Every time I went to the school cafeteria, I remembered that I had to pass the school’s pigsty, and I often saw a couple busy by the pigs’ electric food mixer. I always had the urge to press the switch. Finally, a catastrophe struck one day, and the husband’s arm was pierced. I didn’t press the button. It was his wife. Did she not hold back the urge?

The headteacher came back to check the classroom and was about to lock the door. She was surprised to find that I was still in the room. She saw the tears on my face and asked me what was wrong. I said it was the dust, and she asked me to go to the office with her. On the way, she told me, Xiaofeng Tang, among these kids, you are the best at studies. No matter what happens in the future, don’t forget your books. I still remember her warm words, weak figure, and kind smile. One time, another classmate and I went to a family’s backyard to steal papayas. Just as our bamboo poles struck a couple, an old lady came out of the house and chased us – we fled quickly! We later realized it was the headteacher’s house that we stole from, but she did not punish us.

Chapter 2

The headteacher took out a book from the cabinet. It was the novel Lyrics of Youth. She said, This is your book. I want to give it back to you. The principal confiscated the book from me a year ago; it was considered a bad book that would give young kids an anti-revolutionary influence.

She told me that she also read the book when she was my age, and it had some inspiring stories of the youth. It didn’t matter to me if the book was returned or not. I had found it in the wastepaper pile in the paper mill anyway, but the teacher’s demeanor made me feel warm.

After saying goodbye to the headteacher on the way out of campus, I saw two classmates hiding in the grapefruit garden. There had been rumors that there were boys and girls in the class who were falling in love. At this moment, the shadow was revealed in the sun.

Hey, here comes the teacher! I called out to them on purpose. I saw my male and female classmates run into the deep woods without a trace. I didn’t think they needed to flee. At this time, even if the principal saw it, he probably didn’t care much. Guess just because we were used to hiding! It’s a pity that I didn’t have a girl. It’s better to have someone like Yalan. I would take her past the principal on a bike. I thought, The principal had mercilessly confiscated my book. I want to see how he could seize my girlfriend! But I didn’t dare to do it. The principal would call my mother.

I began the long bus journey home and was embarrassed to find that Yalan was also on the bus. She sat quietly in the back row, looking out the window. I pretended not to see her and sat in front. I heard that her family was also at the military reclamation farm in another division. The division of my home was closer to the border and more remote.

My parents were demobilized soldiers, the first group to settle there, followed by many educated youths from big cities. People call those educated youths Zhiqing because they got some education and were young.

When I was twelve years old, my parents sent me to study at the county middle school, which my father arranged through the relationship of old comrades in the army. As all universities and colleges had been shut down, I had only one choice – to return to the mountains and work on a military farm as a revolutionary worker. I thought Yalan’s fate was the same as mine.

Did she really think I was a rogue? Maybe she’s sandwiching what happened a few months ago with what happened today.

***

It was a quiet evening, the setting sun resembled the color of red roses, and our whole class of fifty or so was crowded on a small barge as we returned from the school-run farm. It was another day of countless engineering and agricultural studies in our two high school years. We were tired and drowsy. Unfortunately, the boat hit a rock. Before we could react, most of the people were swept away and engulfed by the rapids. This day turned out to be the last day of their young lives.

I was quick to react, and Yalan and I grabbed a lifebuoy simultaneously. We struggled to breathe amongst the waves, often thrown underwater and against the reefs. Seeing that she could not hold anymore, I hugged her waist with all my might and helped her put the lifebuoy under her armpit. I let go, and she went with the rapids. I struggled helplessly, swallowed a lot of water, and gave up. The next day, the rescuers found me in the reef’s crevices and found Yalan on the beach dozens of miles downstream.

She never told anyone that I had rescued her, and she was ashamed to say that I had touched her. Of course, I didn’t say a word, willing to be an unsung hero. Rogue and hero became the same person.

***

The bus stopped at a mountain pass. When Yalan got off the bus, she passed by me and paused for a second. A small, folded note dropped under my feet from her hand. I picked up the note and wanted to give it back to her, but I looked at her back and didn’t dare to call after her. She got out, swaying with her luggage, and gradually disappeared into the midsummer afternoon, woven by flowers and ferns. I looked away from the overlapping mountain shadows and opened the note. It was in crooked handwriting: Xiaofeng, can you forgive me?

She disappeared, and forgiveness was meaningless. Looking back, Yalan wasn’t that bad. I remembered that our desk was always cleaner. Before I came to the classroom in the morning, she wiped the whole desk with a damp cloth. She could just wipe her half. I had enjoyed the benefits for a long time without feeling it. Another time when we were at the farm, she helped cook and distribute meat buns to the students. When she saw me, she picked the biggest one for me. It seemed random but might have been a quiet reward for my rescue.

Around two o’clock in the afternoon, the long-distance bus stopped by the old banyan tree. I got out of the bus, walked to a small shop opposite, and asked an elderly: Auntie, have you seen any car from Tenth Battalion come from the mountains?

Kid, I did see it yesterday. I don’t know if it went back. She gave me some hope that maybe I could catch the car home. Her place was like an Info Center. I spent a few cents, bought a green bean popsicle, went back to the old banyan tree, and sat quietly on the big root.

This familiar old tree was a sign of my return home. It formed a one-tree forest. There were trees in the tree, and the branches and leaves were connected. It was rumored that it already had some immortal energy and could call the wind and the rain. Starting from the old banyan tree, a rugged and winding road led to the mountains. At the end of the road was the Tenth Battalion, where my home was. People from nearby villages came and went,