My grandfather passed last week from a short and unexplainable illness. We were all surprised. My brothers and I thought he was invincible. He fled mainland China in the early sixties with his father and siblings. He worked every day of his life and eventually became a wealthy businessman, the perfect example of the American dream. He was a health nut and ran ten miles daily, sometimes competing in marathons. He was also a strict vegetarian and never ate meat. We all thought he would make it to one hundred.

I never really cared for my grandfather. He wasn’t overtly unpleasant or rotten, but he wasn’t warm and giving like my other grandfather. “Gung-Gung,” as we called him, was cold and stoic. He never said more than a few words to us and eschewed any form of meaningful connections. My older brother, Cal, believed he didn’t like us because mom married a white man. Mom, however, would always defend him. “If you knew what he went through, you would understand why he is the way he is.”

Gung-Gung left my mom everything in his will, including his giant manor in Boone, North Carolina. The home was built along the mountains and had the most fantastic view of the sunrise in the morning. We rarely visited, and my mom kept trying to get Gung-Gung to downsize after our Po-Po died when I was in grade school. Gung-Gung became even more reclusive after she passed and refused to hold a funeral for her. I’m not even sure how she died, though my mom said she had been sick all her life.

My brothers and I traveled to Boone to move things out of the house. It was a nice place, but we weren’t interested in keeping it. My parents thought it was best to sell. We quickly started to help the movers, eager to finish the job. The house was magnificent but sparsely furnished. I imagine Gung-Gung was quite lonely when he lived here by himself. I imagined him waking up at the crack of dawn and running ten miles to his glass factory, where he would work a 14-hour day. What a miserable life.

I helped the movers clear out the master bedroom and noticed an indentation in the wall behind the bed. I pressed my hand on it, and it opened to reveal a small crawlspace. Inside the crawlspace was a picture of my grandfather and his family and an old diary. I flipped through the pages and saw that the last entry was written a week before Gung-Gung died. The first entry was dated August 16, 1959.

I’m posting the most significant entries out of respect and shame.

Entry One:

“Our crops were destroyed by pests again. All that work was for nothing. I used to hate the sparrows that shit on our heads and ate our grains. But they ate the bugs too. I regret killing so many. I was supposed to start school this year. Father worked hard to pay for my education. Now we work hard to survive. YeYe is sick again. I am worried he will not make it.”

Entry Six (January 3rd, 1960)

“YeYe finally passed today. We mourn his wisdom and that he suffered. We suffer too. I am so hungry that I fear that my ribs will cut through my skin in my sleep. I can see my little brother’s heart beating in his chest. YeYe always said we were cursed. I think I believe him. Father has yet to hold a funeral for him. The ground is too frozen to plant crops and bury the dead. YeYe lies in the back room. I am afraid to go in there.”

Entry Seven (January 5th, 1960)

“A miracle has happened! We have meat to eat. Father said he was able to strike a deal with Haitao, the grocer. I have not tasted meat in so long; I must have forgotten what it tasted like. I feel it nourishing my bones. Perhaps we will get through this after all. YeYe must be smiling upon us.”

Entry Ten (January 10th, 1960)

“Mother and Father have been fighting for days. Mother accuses Father of lying, but I am unsure what she means. Qianfan and I try to listen in on their arguing, but I do not hear much. My stomach rumbles again. I hope father can get more meat soon.”

Entry Eleven (January 11th, 1960)

“A strange thing happened today. I went to the market to find Haitao, the grocer. I wanted to prove to my father that I was a man and could help protect our family. If Haitao had listened to my father, maybe I could convince him to give us more meat. But when I got to the stand, Haitao was not there. His wife told me he has been dead since last November. I asked about my father, but she said he had not seen him. Father must have a secret. Perhaps I will keep it for him.”

Entry Thirteen (January 30th, 1960)

“Father brought us home more meat. Our ancestors smile upon us. Mother refuses to eat it, and she and father argue again. The arguing is worse than before. My brothers and I are worried for my parents. I must step up to be a bigger man for them.”

Entry Fifteen (February 12th, 1960)

“Mother passed away last night. The hunger finally got to her. Why did she never eat with us? Was it pride? I have deduced that father stole the meat from someone. It is dishonorable, but we must do what we can. Many of my friends have perished. Nothing will grow. I mourn for my mother and for her honor. I hope she watches over us.”

Entry Twenty (February 28th, 1960)

“Father had a secret. He only confided in me as I am the oldest. He was never stealing meat for us to eat. THE MONSTER FED US YEYE AND MOTHER. I am filled with anger, shame, and horror. How could he do this to us? He said he wanted us to survive? I would have rather died than committed this grave sin. I have locked father in his room. I will decide what to do with him later.”

Entry Twenty-One (March 3rd, 1960)

“I have decided to forgive father. I am too hungry to punish him. We must do what we can to survive. I have freed him from his closet. Tonight we will venture into town and scrounge up what we can find.”

Entry Twenty-Nine (May 24th, 1960)

“We have been caught! Haitao’s wife caught us snooping around a condemned home. Father beat her with his club, and I delivered the final blow with mine. We must have created a ruckus. The village is looking for us, and it is no longer safe for our family to be here. Tonight, father and I will take my brothers and flee to Hong Kong.”

Entry Thirty-Four (June 18th, 1965)

“I cannot believe it has been five years since I last wrote. Hong Kong has been nice, but Father wants to move us to the United States. Our English has improved, and I hear the United States has good universities. I have decided to abstain from meat. I no longer have a taste for it, and the cravings are easier to control now.”

Entry Forty-Two (September 3rd, 1971)

“Today, we laid my father to rest. He had suffered for a long time, and I am glad it is finally over. I wonder if his soul will be at peace. Will he be forgiven by our ancestors? Will I? The more I think about it, the less I am sure. One thing is for certain, my father did everything he could to ensure we survived. He brought us to the land of opportunity, and we are thriving. Mr. Danvers is looking to promote me again at the factory. Qianfan and Shuhan will graduate from college soon. They will never know what we did for them. No one will ever know.

Fang and I are also expecting a child! A girl. The future is ours, thanks to father. May he enjoy eternal rest.”

Entry Forty-Four (July 17th, 2002)

“I cannot believe it has been thirty years since I last wrote in this diary. The years have been plentiful, though I still feel hollow. I am wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, and Grace is expecting our fourth grandchild. How awful it is that I cannot be happy. Grace is worried for me since I’ve been taking care of her mother. Fang’s condition worsens by the day, and the doctors try everything to make her well again. My wife is brave, but I do not fear that she will pass. I have accepted that we can do nothing except keep her comfortable. My wife will die soon, and that’s not what I’m afraid of.

I’m worried that I will eat her flesh when she does. The hunger has been unbearable. I now understand why Father suffered so much in the last few years of his life. I am worried that hunger will take over someday. I must have strength if I am to persevere.”

Entry Forty-Five (July 28th, 2002)

“Fang has passed. I wonder what my father felt as he ate his own wife’s cooked flesh from the bone all those years ago. I felt nothing but satisfaction. I have finally awakened the beast inside me. I do not think I will put it back to sleep. I will host a quick funeral for Fang and throw some fireplace ashes in an urn. I must be careful if I am to continue.”

You can imagine my shock and horror as I read through the pages of the diary. I felt sick to my stomach and vomited in the restroom. I am a descendant of a true monster. Unable to put down the diary, I flipped to its last entry, dated a month ago.

Entry 106 (October 27th, 2022)

“I can no longer walk. My legs are too stiff, and my hands constantly tremor. This must be a symptom of Parkinson’s. It has taken both of my brothers and now me. I find it ironic that I will most likely die from starvation or dehydration. I suppose this punishment is fitting. How many innocents have I claimed from the mountain? Twenty? Thirty? It no longer matters. I enjoyed each and every one of them. I do not have anything else to say. I will put my diary, my life, into the compartment behind my bed. I think I have enough energy to crawl there. May my ancestors forgive me, and if they do not, I will eat their souls too. Goodbye forever.”

“DAVID!” I heard my brother Cal yell from the first floor. “What, Cal!?” Cal bolted up the stairs as fast as he could, huffing and puffing. “Call the police, Dave,” Cal said. “Just call them.” I went downstairs to see some movers who looked distressed. One was dry heaving. They were going to clean out the basement. I ran down the steps while on the phone with the 911 dispatcher. One of the basement walls had collapsed accidentally.

Behind the wall were hundreds of bones.