"There is nothing like a true love to go and make a fool of someone."
This is not a true story.
When David Lei was a small six year old child, he learned about the tooth fairy. To him, the process of trading one’s tooth for money sounded a bit unrealistic, so he didn’t tell his parents about it. But out of curiosity and a sliver of hope, one night, he put a recently lost tooth under his pillow. Maybe the tooth fairy would take the tooth and leave something. He slept well that night.
As he awoke next morning, David lifted his pillow excitedly. His wide eyes opened with hope, but soon slackened with disappointment. There was nothing under his pillow. If David were old enough to have higher vocabulary, he would have called this experience a “conspiracy.”
Walking past his bed the next day, David realized that the tooth had fallen to the floor. Afterwards, he pretended that he had never been so silly.
During his high school years, David and his parents settled into a ranch styled home in Madison, Wisconsin. In his senior year of high school, his most unique role in society began when he got a phone call from the Department of Alcoholic Beverages and Tobacco. At the offer of a family friend, David became an underage agent. He traveled around town with various men, and tried to buy beer from bars in town. The first eight wouldn’t sell it to him, but the next two did. The government went on to arrest those last two men. David felt kind of special.
As many Chinese guys do, David entered the College of Engineering at Cornell University. One gloomy Ithaca day, David casually ambled past Goldwin Smith on his way back to his dorm, Mews Hall. He thought “Sure, Mews might not be as cool as Balch, which has its own Wikipedia page. But life is pretty good.”
To spend more time in the company of the light but steady raindrops, David veered northeast, away from his path to Mews. He moved down the awkwardly spaced steps near Noyes, and approached a path around Beebe Lake. He saw a pretty girl jogging along the northern path, so he decided to go in that direction too.
Stepping along the damp path, David felt at peace. Sure, the sky was cloudy and gloomy, and his head was a bit damp. Appreciating the rain, he remembered what a preacher said recently, during Easter on the Quad. “The gorges weren’t made with sunshine, you know.”
David casually paced around the lake for a few more minutes, examining the nature that grew around the manmade lake. A cool westward breeze brushed his cheek like whisper. David turned around, but he was alone.
He looked down, and hopped a little bit back in surprise. Imprinted in the damp mud were a set of mysterious footprints. Who made these footprints?
David speculated that last night, two emotionally struggling young lovers might have found that the lake, secluded from the dorms, was a good place to discuss their relationship problems. After a couple of hours of calm but assertive debate, they stood up to leave. But instead of walking back to the dorms, they fought amidst the strong and pouring storm, clutching onto their failed but desperately emotional relationship into the early morning. The guy must have trudged away, angry and exhausted, stamping his feet into the ground with each increasingly labored step.
But David wasn’t sure whether the footprints belonged to one or two people. The prints were all of similar sizes, and their shapes were too rough in such damp and malleable mud. David shrugged, glanced at the setting sun, and walked back to Mews.
Beep beep beeeeep. Beep bee- David jerked up from his bed and turned off the alarm. It was 8:45am, about time to get ready for an early Freshman Writing Seminar. What a drag. “That class is useless,” he thought.
As David scrambled into the room and tried not to be late, Professor Sinykin lectured about C. Auguste Dupin, a young detective of Edgar Allan Poe’s short mystery story series.
“Morning, David. So, did everyone read ‘The Purloined Letter?’ What did you think?” the professor smiled hopefully. As if more than half the class had done the reading.
Actually, David had done the reading and found it quite captivating. Even after Professor Sinykin dismissed the class, David pondered about Dupin. David was in awe of Dupin’s detective prowess. What a man. Dupin picked out the clues that were necessary to solve the mystery of that letter. Furthermore, David wondered whether or not he would risk his life to uncover the truth behind a mystery.
Walking into the Temple of Zeus, David quickly forgot about Dupin. He had a Rebecca Black moment. Which seat should he take? Except that all the seats were taken. Then, he spotted the pretty girl from his walk near the lake. As he entered the coffee queue, she gave him a quick smile. His ego liked that smile. “Just a normal day,” David thought smugly. But seeing the girl reminded David of the footprints.
Later that day, Peter, Greg and Will joined David for dinner.
“What up,” greeted David. He nodded as his friends settled down with their food trays. “Guys, I think I found something weird,” he added apprehensively.
“What’s up?” asked Peter, David’s roommate and fellow engineer.
“Well I was just walking along Beebe Lake yesterday, and when I looked around at the ground, I noticed these footprints,” explained David. “It was kind of weird.” Peter’s face exhibited thoughtfulness with great patience, and a touch of confusion.
“I dunno, man,” inputted Greg, who never took walked outside because he always worked out in the gyms.
Will offered another opinion. “I think it was an act of God. Things like that don’t just happen. Remember when He made Jesus walk on water in the gospels? David, you were next to a lake. Look around at the water next time. I mean, maybe God is speaking to you, dude.”
“Umm…” Peter mumbled something in disagreement. Then, he added, “It’s pretty sunny today. If we go check now, we probably won’t see any footprints, because the mud is all dried up.”
David knew Peter was right. But he couldn’t stop thinking about those footprints. He went back to the lake at night. He took the path around the lake from the south side. Next, he jogged across the footbridge. In the darkness, the crashing waterfall seemed more powerful. And more intimidating. The increasingly thick rain fed the growing waterfall. By the time David approached the place he stopped the last time he saw the footprints, his breathing became quicker and shallower. Glancing around, David knew he didn’t want to stay long. He was going to get wetter, and he didn’t have a flashlight.
But by the dim light of the crescent moon, David seemed to know what he would see when he looked around at the ground. He saw the same ominous set of footprints as he had the previous day. This time, the footprints seemed more spaced apart, more determined, and heavier. As if someone was running after him.
David bolted away in fear.
“Oh man, oh man, I don’t know what’s going on,” he desperately said to himself. His morning, sitting in writing class, seemed so far away. In fact, even dinner with his friends seemed like forever ago. These terrifying footprints captured David and would not let him escape. And he didn’t know how he was going to spend the next three years at this school.
As David returned to Mews, he was still nervous and shaken. His roommate, Peter, was calmly typing out an essay, and the room was cool and comfortable as usual. David was getting ready for bed when Peter turned to him. “David, I’ve been thinking more about our conversation at dinner. You weren’t looking at your own footprints, were you?”
David’s labored breathing quieted down. Exhausted, he climbed into bed and slept.
My mom reminded them that one of my bedroom walls is completely blank. So I should put the sign there. But it is not there.
