Fiction: Group 3
The Evanescent Man
South Island School, Kumar, Mahira - 13, Fiction: Group 3
ROLOGUE
When I was young, my grandmother used to sit on her rocking chair and tell me stories. The
rocking chair was nothing special. It was that unattractive tawny wood with knocks and scrapes from
decades of abuse from children and grandchildren.
Her stories, on the other hand, were something I always
treasured. They ranged from stories about fairies with shimmering wings and glossy golden hair, to valiant
pirates voyaging the squally seas, to furry animals and their ridiculous antics. However, noticeably, her
favourite genre seemed to consist of ghostly tales from the past. Consequently, I grew up believing,
somewhere in my consciousness, that there was more to the world than just what is visible to the naked eye.
Now, she’s no more and with her have gone the stories of these characters that had once been so alive in my
imagination.
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It was a tumultuous time in Hong Kong. Schools were closed due to traffic restrictions, as the student
protests in Central Hong Kong were growing more and more violent. An air of expectation hung over the
city as the protests gathered momentum. I had had time on my hands and decided to get into a routine of
running down Tai Tam road to Stanley at seven pm every night. Contradictory to popular belief that Hong
Kong is and was a jungle of steel and glass, with skyscrapers growing right out of the concrete pavements,
amid the urban hustle there are several quiet parks, green spaces, beaches and mountain-top views. Not
being much of a city girl myself, I enjoyed living in the slightly suburban quiet part of Hong Kong.
Every night when the clock struck seven in the evening, I set off down the path towards Stanley beach.
Above me the sky was ablaze with fiery colours. The sun, like a large, orange disc in the distance was
partially cloaked by the cotton candy clouds, with the colours of dusty pinks, reds and even hints of purples
and blues. The sun seemed to whisper "Farewell" to the world as it drowned below the horizon. In its place
appeared, sequin-silver stars like the glowing embers of a dying fire. Darkness fell over me. To the left, the
ferocious waves crashed aggressively against the seaside of the desolate beach. Up ahead in the distance,
through the blackness of the night, on a lonely rock surrounded by the violent sea, I could make out a
shadow of a man. Curiosity overcame me and I slowed my pace in order to take a better look. He seemed
to be wearing a long black coat, with ebony coloured slacks. His silver hair, glistening like mercury, was put
into a long braid that hung down his arched back, and his long skinny arms were clasped together behind
him. As if he felt my presence, he slowly turned to reveal a faraway look in his eyes. We held stone cold eye
contact for a brief second before he once again returned to his previous stance. Looking out into the sea. A
million and one questions popped into my mind all at once: Who was he? How did he get onto the rock?
Why was he there? Why hadn't anybody else noticed him? After a while I realised that there was no use in
standing there and pondering over useless, meaningless things. So I turned around, resumed my pace and
headed for home.
The following nights, I ran down the beach at 7 o’clock and looked into the black seas to once again see the
enigmatic man standing in the same place.
However, after a few days, my curious nature got the best of me and I felt the need to share my interestingly
mysterious discovery with my older sister. So, when we did reach the beach that night, I looked across at
the sea and sure enough he was there just like always. “What?” spoke my sister in a slightly irritated manner
due to the fact that I had dragged her out in the dark on this particularly cold night. “Don't you see him?” I
replied in a slightly confused tone.
“See who?”
“Him! Right there on the rock? Can’t you see?” I said perplexedly.
“I think you’re going mad” she stated bluntly and subsequently took off. She left whilst I stood there
puzzled. How could she not see him?
The days continued following the same routine, with me continuously frustrated and frankly, a little bit
scared at the prospect of being the only one able to see him, for every time I looked out into the horizon I
would always see him, in the same place, and staring at the same spot out in the distance.
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