After searching everywhere, I still couldn’t find my iPad. My parents put it away to punish me. Just at the moment I was about to give up digging in the wardrobe, a small pack with delicate printing caught my eyes.
 
I pinched it carefully and inched it out from the shadow. Sealed in plastic film, the pack touched like a slippery evil. In sickness and disgust my skin prickled.
 
“Super thin”, “Passion”, “Long-lasting”, these hot words glittered unashamedly.
 
I knew what it was. I’d seen similar things at the store, sitting brazenly next to candies on the checkout counter. I knew it was for THAT THING. My friends sometimes made jokes about it though we barely knew what they meant. For a 13-year-old boy whose voice just began to turn harsh, THAT THING was too “mysterious”. Our conservative culture doesn’t encourage us to dig deeper. And THAT THING is often taboo, inappropriate, indecent, filthy, depraved …
 
How come such a vile thing was here, in my parents’ bedroom?
 
Although neither of them was straight-laced, they constantly lectured me to be a good man. I remembered once my dad zapped the channel and my mom covered my eyes immediately, as soon as a lady in funny dress came out on TV.
 
Why did they hide such a thing inside their bedroom? Did they act like beasts in bed? Were they as shameless as the porn stars whom I had scarcely heard about? Was their morality a mirage? Feeling cheated and wounded, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering.
 
I cast another look at the pack. Suddenly, it burned my fingers like a live coal. The pack dropped onto the ground. Lights reflected off its skin. An evil spirit seemed to be unleashed with ominous glamour. I stared at it with hatred. Anger bubbled into my chest like lava.
 
“What are you doing?” My dad came in after work.
 
That volcano burst. I threw the pack at him and yelled with my shivering voice, “What is it? What do you use it for? I can’t believe you both are so disgusting!” I looked at him in contempt. I held tight to my dignity, but couldn’t stop the tears that sprung from my eyes. I cried like an orphan deserted by the whole world.
 
The look in my dad’s face was weird after he found out what he caught was. He blushed and then tried to squeeze a smile but failed. He stood there for a couple of seconds—helpless and embarrassed—before he could compose himself.
 
“Son, we never talked about this. That’s why you are so confused. I am very sorry, but”, he paused and looked into my eyes, “please trust me, sex is not evil nor filthy. Sex is a normal human behavior. If you do it with someone you love, it will give you pleasure and happiness. Please understand and remember this.” He chose every single word carefully but spoke clumsily. Perhaps no one ever taught him how to handle this subject. But I could hear his sincerity, which dissolved my anger and fear.
 
“Come here. Let’s have a hug?” he opened his arms.
 
I hesitated before walking to him. I didn’t know how to embrace him like a real grown man. Maybe he didn’t either, because we were both uncomfortable. Or was this just the way men get along?
 
That pack lay between us, in the soft light of a setting sun. I still had questions, but I decided not to ask them. A man should dig his own way out, right?