Storm Across My Cherished Bamboo Bridge

By Gene P. Del Carmen

Killer-Gangster Turns His Life Around

Fifteen-year-old Meiling has always sensed that her Dad, Douglas, has been keeping a secret which can shed light on why she grew up without a mother.  Now that he controls the largest laundry-supply business in the Northeast, USA, Douglas’ dark past as a feared gangster in Hong Kong is forcing him to face a future that clouds his relationship with his daughter.  There’s a new woman in her father’s life; will she come between Douglas and Meiling?  

“A story of enduring love, betrayal, and ultimately forgiveness, heartfeltly narrated.”   Tessie Abes

“An inspirational story that will not disappoint the reader.  It exudes the pursuit of high principle and purpose, easy to sympathize with. I have read Gene’s other books with much interest.”  Felix Alberto

“Enthralling & captivating work!  In its simplicity, author was able to refine a heartwarming story leading to a familial yearning.  Home to a dynamic plot, I would definitely recommend it.”  Christine Alexandra Carvajal    

“Thought provoking and relatable. Read how the characters use their tragedies to move their lives forward, yet never forget.  Anyone can benefit from reading this book.”  Victor T. Closa

“I love love stories and happy with happy endings. Gene’s novel has them both.  It is truly an enjoyable read.  Great job, Gene!”   Roberto M. Collantes

“Rich & spicy story of family love; even its secondary characters can ripen into enduring stories of their own.” Dinah M. Libang

Gene P. Del Carmen has written short stories for illustrated comics & television scripts in Manila, Philippines. Recently retired as a corporate accountant, he now works as a realtor in New Jersey where he lives with his wife, Arielita. He also holds an MA in Theology. This is his 1st novel and 4th book.

Cover design by: Olivia G. Mestidio

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Nov 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638291053

Gene P. Del Carmen

Gene P. Del Carmen grew up in San Juan City, Metro-Manila, Philippines. He inherited the story imagination from his mother, Victoria, who narrated stories to him and sister, Cristina, straight from her rich, creative mind. He has a BSBA Accounting degree and MA Theology. He recently retired as a corporate accountant. He wrote short stories for television scripts and illustrated comics in Manila. Here in the U.S., he has published three collections of short stories: The Pork Bun Heist and Other Stories  The Manny Pacquiao Effect and Other Stories Anna and the Exodus Moon and Other Stories Storm Across My Cherished Bamboo Bridge is his first published novel.

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About the Author

Gene P. Del Carmen grew up in San Juan City, Metro-Manila, Philippines. He inherited the story imagination from his mother, Victoria, who narrated stories to him and sister, Cristina, straight from her rich, creative mind.

He has a BSBA Accounting degree and MA Theology. He recently retired as a corporate accountant.

He wrote short stories for television scripts and illustrated comics in Manila. Here in the U.S., he has published three collections of short stories:

The Pork Bun Heist and Other Stories

The Manny Pacquiao Effect and Other Stories

Anna and the Exodus Moon and Other Stories

Storm Across My Cherished Bamboo Bridge is his first published novel.

Dedication

For: Nestor J. Tambor

My dear friend, writing mentor, and avid reader.

And

Covid-19 Frontline Workers

Our most formidable defense against the pandemic, my beloved Filipino immigrants among them.

Copyright Information ©

Gene P. Del Carmen 2022

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Ordering Information

Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Del Carmen, Gene P.

Storm Across My Cherished Bamboo Bridge

ISBN 9781638291046 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781638291053 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022912709

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street,33rd Floor, Suite 3302

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgment

‘Salamat’ is the Filipino word for ‘Thank you’. My sincerest Salamat to those who helped me splice its parts and weave this book together and guided me towards one I proudly hold as, by far, my most heartwarming story.

My wife, Lita, is the first to read each chapter draft. Her honest comments could sometimes be harsh, but that’s what I expect her to be. She knows my long writing hours and to be less than fair is to allow all that hard work to go ‘under-appraised’.

My sister, Cristina D.C. Pastor, has always been my overall literary adviser, suggesting useful edits as to the content, structure, and visual language. Together with my brother-in-law, Rene, they publish ‘The FilAm’ magazine in New York. They are both journalists, and the whole time that I wrote this book, they lived and worked in Beijing, China.

My nephew, Reynaldo T. Aquino, does the secondary review. He is a very skilled dialogue writer. He works for a major bank in Toronto, Canada.

For this book, I was grateful to gather a diverse group of friends as story critics with broad personal views from whom I truly learned, and benefitted greatly:

1. Tessie Abes – a research scientist at a pharmaceutical company here in New Jersey. We’re both members of the Highland Park, NJ Lions Club.

2. Felix P. (Jojo) Alberto – my high school classmate at Don Bosco Tech. Now retired, he was the Men’s Department Manager for a major department store in Philadelphia, PA.

3. Victor T. Closa – an accountant for a major medical center in New Jersey and was our Filipino Mass Choir Manager here in Neptune, NJ.

4. Roberto (Boy) Collantes – my high school classmate also at Don Bosco Tech. An accountant, he works as housing/relocation coordinator for a medical staffing firm and also prepares personal income taxes in Indianapolis, IN.

5. Dinah Mae Libang – a registered nurse and Facility Educator for a Rehab and Nursing Facility. She also sings for our Filipino Mass Choir.

6. Christine Alexandra Carvajal– a 2nd-year astrophysics and computer science student. She was editor of her high school literary magazine, was awarded for her original ‘SLAM’ poetry. She received a full scholarship at the NASA summer space program; currently a physics research journal reviewer, and a member of her university’s software development club. Very impressive! Also, she had suggested some teenage lingo for our story since she is about the same age as our main character, ‘Meiling’.

7. Olive G. Mastidio designed this book’s super cover. This is the second time we’ve worked together, having designed the cover for my previous book, ‘Anna and the Exodus Moon and Other Stories’. She was the Art Director for J. Walter Thompson advertising agency in Manila, Philippines.

8. Leonides F. Alesna (Ned) is my good friend and computer technician, a very vital support person in my writing, always ready to help me out of my frustrating PC jams. He has read all my books.

9. Arnel D. Dimatulac is my photographer friend.

This book is also dedicated to the loving memory of Mr. Nestor J. Tambor, my dear Tito Nes. Always inspiring and encouraging me to keep writing, he was a journalist who wrote for the Philippines Free Press. I believe it was fate that we met here in New Jersey.

This novel is the first that I have completed. Writing a book would seem to be an enormous undertaking at the start. But each sentence links me to the next until each character does what I had envisioned them all to do.

Thank you all for your help and your focused, delightful interest in this story.

Maraming salamat (many thanks),

Gene P. Del Carmen

Storm Across My Cherished

Bamboo Bridge

Introduction

Immigration was my original idea for this story, its perils, and promises. Whenever we painfully decide to leave our loved ones behind to search for a better life, that for me is always a good story. I am a Filipino-American and my story mirrors mildly the many inspiring and remarkable stories of human migration. Here is one of them:

I once read about a Mexican family whose main source of income was collecting soda cans and bottles from grocery stores’ dumpsters. So, in the early mornings, amid the stench and filth of those dumpsters, and before the garbage hauler trucks come, they would set foot inside these dumpsters and collect all the tin cans and bottles. One of the sons who likewise worked the same did very well in his studies and upon graduation from high school qualified for a scholarship at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. It was a triumph of human endurance and determination. But, for every victorious story like this one, there are just as many that are heartbreakingly sad. As an immigrant, I have witnessed both accounts of gloom and glory, enough to be moved to write about the subject. This novel is the fruit of such thoughtful compilation. Then, as I was finishing writing this novel, something unpredictably huge occurred.

The coronavirus (Covid-19) epidemic broke out in February 2020 and quickly spread so ferociously into a pandemic. We live near Hackensack-Meridian Medical Center in Neptune, New Jersey. At the height of this pandemic, I heard the sounds of relentless ambulance sirens and saw the long lines of cars of those seeking much demanded testing. We were also advised to stay indoors on lockdown to prevent the further spread of it. As I wrote this on April 22, 2020, there were 45,039 confirmed deaths due to this virus. But, as we all know, the death toll swelled to 500,071 by February 21, 2021, higher than the deaths of World War I, World War II, and the Vietnam War combined, as disclosed by President Joe Biden with much deserved empathy. This virus continues to claim lives.

Right on the front lines of this pandemic, alongside Americans, are the dedicated immigrant health care workers. From the doctors and nurses to technicians and EMTs, facility cleaners and many more. I have good-friend-nurses who have been stricken by this virus. But, despite the dangers to themselves, they continue to go to work knowing they are the only trained formidable defense against it.

To my dear, brave, hardworking fellow immigrants, and everyone who loves them, this novel is for you.

Gene P. Del Carmen

1. The Year of the Snake

Life choices always arise, gradually or unexpectedly, and the decisions we make could be far-reaching to deeply touch the lives of those we may not even initially foresee.

You need to hear this snake story, Meiling! Douglas told his daughter as he pulled a chair next to her bed. Filled with juvenile curiosity, 15-year-old Meiling watched her balding father as he sat to start his narrative. He loved these warm-hearted, instructive moments with her.

I like your Hong Kong stories, Dad, she can’t wait to hear it.

Well, Meiling, I have a nice Hong Kong and snake story for you; how do you like that. He knew his only child needed to hear this coming-of-age story. Meiling was about the same age when Douglas’ grandmother advisedly narrated it to him back home in Hong Kong. My grandmother once had a dream, and she told me this dream, which I have never forgotten to this day. He began:

"There was this bamboo bridge connecting their village to their school. That aging bridge was the only link from their houses to their school, and they crossed it every day. Slowly and cautiously, they would hold on firmly to the bamboo handrails and walk measured steps on the two-foot-wide, knotted bamboo planks, three kids at a time.

"One day, a big, long snake appeared from under the bamboo planks. My grandmother was the first of three kids walking on the bridge that day when the snake showed its scary head about five feet in front of her. The three of them screamed in terror and decided to turn and run back. Terrified and confused, they slipped through the wet bamboo planks and fell into the raging river. Some of the men jumped into the river to save them.

Unfortunately, the big snake dropped itself into the river too. The children came face-to-face with the snake with its venomous tongue out, its eyes red with hostile intent to bite them. Douglas looked at Meiling, who was silent and attentive. That was when my grandma woke up. Meiling smiled in relief. Douglas then acknowledged his reason for telling the story.

My grandmother told me that story when I was about your age, before I set out for the big city of Hong Kong for the first time. I always remember that story, Meiling, every time I leave the house, more so now that I’m older. He looked into his daughter’s eyes; she was looking at him too, smiling and amused. He then revealed his motive for the story. Trouble lurks everywhere, my dear. I worry about you when you’re out.

It’s only a school trip to the Jewish museum, Dad! She kept smiling, wondering why his father told her the bridge and snake dream story. You don’t have to worry; our teachers will be there too. But Douglas remained unsettled.

And where did you say you’ll have lunch?

Chinatown, Meiling answered, somewhat annoyed. That bustling town with its crowded streets and unlighted alleys brought some worry to Douglas’ face.

Chinatown, Meiling, is not as safe and friendly as you’d like it to be. He tried to explain, but she cut him off.

Dad, you know Sunya and I are the only Chinese kids in our class, and we both recommended lunch at Chinatown, and the whole class agreed.

They must love Chinese food, he surmised.

Yes, Dad, and we’ll be eating roasted Peking duck and shrimp lo-mein and pork fried rice and lychees sherbet for dessert, just like at my birthday party last month, she continued. Dad, we got them all hungry and excited at the same time. How can you not let me go? She was annoyed at her father’s implied non-approval of her trip. Douglas saw it was useless to argue with a determined teenager. He had to rethink and relent.

Meiling, of course, I want you to go, I just want you to be safe, always. He was about to add some more cautionary advice when his cell phone rang. He stood up and walked towards the door of Meiling’s room to talk to the caller. He spoke in Chinese, soft tones, and far away so no one else can hear the words, not even his daughter. She had to wonder.

Douglas usually was a soft-spoken man. But there were times when his demeanor makes her daughter very curious, even a bit worried.

Like those phone calls. He started with a soft whispering voice, but they could become intense and loud, cursing out loud, table-banging angry. She once asked him why.

It’s business, Meiling, just business! I manage every angle and every stage of our company, and timely action often must be made, or our business will go bad! She never asked again.

She got up from her bed to go to the bathroom. She could hear her father’s voice downstairs, slowly getting louder and angrier. She closed the bathroom door to hear less of that phone argument, whatever it was. Business again, she thought, just like he said so.

Her cell phone rang; it was her classmate Sunya, quite excited.

Meiling, Josh just called me; his mother told him to bring home, not one, but two orders of Chinese ribs and spring rolls from Chinatown. Sunya was giggling on the take-out errand.

No wonder she’s fat! They both laughed out loud.

I warned him that the smell of the ribs will fill the bus, and then all the boys will want to fight him for it. She and Sunya and the Jewish boy, Josh, were the best of friends. The two girls started to gossip and chat. During the call, Meiling could still hear her father’s loud phone conversation from downstairs. As both girls giggled and laughed, Meiling overheard a word her father uttered quite angrily.

She heard him say the Chinese word ‘SHE’ (pronounced SHA), which meant snake. She noticed that word since her father used it in about three more sentences. Then she remembered her father’s earlier bridge and snake dream story from his grandmother. She started thinking. Could that dream be related to the word ‘SHA’ that her father uttered thrice tonight?

Got to go, Sunya; I’ll see you in school tomorrow! She cut her phone talk abruptly. Her dad’s loud, exhausting phone argument just ended too. The whole house was now silent. That sudden soundless moment made Meiling want to comfort her stressed, hardworking, forty-five-year-old father who had provided her with all she needed in her life so far.

As she came down the stairs, she remembered her recent fifteenth ‘Ji Li’ birthday party, a Chinese coming of age tradition similar to a Spanish ‘Quinceanera’. She walked down the same stairs wearing her velvet satin traditional gown, and yes, she truly felt pretty and radiant just as everybody said she was. And, as was their tradition since the Zou Dynasty (1066 BC), her father Douglas nervously combed her hair into a knot and set it in