The Lang Affair

The Lang Affair

Anna Rohaly

Benji was used to being teased at school about his squinty Asian eyes, his skinny legs, and his outrageously messy hair. But up until last year, the teasing and bullying had been relatively light. Last year everything had changed when his Dad, Li Rong Lang had made national news for “allegedly” killing the pretty blond woman. After that, the teasing had become relentless to the point that Benji was glad to change schools when his mom dropped him off to live with his uncle before heading away over the Pacific in her search for “peace and quiet.” Benji leaned his head against the school bus window and watched the trees blur past.

His life felt like that blur of greens, browns, blacks outside. Everything had turned upside down after the trial. He had seen the pretty blond lady, Jeanette, twice. Once, when his mom was gone visiting his aunt, the lady had come for a sleep over with his dad. The second time was two weeks before she was murdered. His mom was gone at a parent teacher meeting. Benji had sat and watched TV, trying to drown out the moans coming from his parents bedroom. The lady had left right before his mom had gotten home.

The day after the lady's visit, his mom had been washing dishes while he worked on homework.

Without looking at him she asked, “Who was the woman Benji?” He put his pencil down and looked at the ground. His mother had turned to look at him, her black hair shining, a strange look on her face. He did not know, he told her, Jeanette something. She nodded and turned back to the dishes, ending the conversation. Later that night, Benji had hidden under his covers as his parents fought.

“What do you want from me, Ai Ming?” Li Rong had shouted. The next week, Ai Ming treated her husband with an uncommon affection. Two weeks after the fight on that Wednesday night, Li Rong was out drinking when Ai Ming had gotten Benji out of bed.

“Benji, you are going to come with me,” She'd said. “We are going for a drive to find your father.”

Together they had driven into the dark night for hours. They had done this when Benji was little and the memory of these nights put Benji to sleep as the orange street lights flashed past. He woke to inky blackness. Letting his eyes adjust he realized that the car was parked outside of a tiny house. The house was surrounded by trees and bushes. As he watched as his mother came a few moments later from the house. She was wearing his father's coat and in her gloved hands was holding something that shone in the pale star light. He watched as she tore a piece of the coat off before he curled up and went back to sleep.

Benji woke once more that night, just long enough to see his mother get out of the car and move towards what he presumed was his father lying drunk in the ally to give him his coat. He went back to sleep.

When he woke the next morning he was in his bed and there was a loud banging outside. The police burst into their home, taking over their every move, and complicating and tainting the rest of their lives. The blond lady was dead, Benji knew that much, but he did not understand why his father was arrested. Or why he had to watch as his father was sentenced to twenty years in prison. Or why a month later his mother had left him at his uncles and left the country.

The bus stopped and Benji let out a sad sigh. Grabbing his back pack he left the bus, preparing for another day to try and make sense of his life.