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home, but then I heard that some of our fellow countrymen have been buying land in New Westminster, about twenty kilometres from Vancouver. They cleared it and planted fruit trees and vegetables and now they do good business selling their produce all over the place. Ah-Lam and I followed their example and moved to New Westminster this New Year. I have used the compensation to buy land to farm. Who knows whether Heaven will favour me with a good harvest. I have opened three laundry businesses here and none of them made good, for all sorts of reasons which could not have been foreseen. So I decided not to do that again. I still have around five hundred dollars left over, which is enough to bring one person to Canada. If Mum insists that she does not want you to come, could Kam Shan join me? Clearing and farming this land is back-breaking work. Ah-Lam is in his fifties, and I’m catching up to him. We really need someone younger to help. I am sure that Mum will be unhappy about Kam Shan leaving, but I hope you will make her see reason. When you receive this letter, will you ask my uncle and Ha Kau to go to Canton and find out the time of the boats, so he can come as soon as possible?

Your husband, Tak Fat, twenty-ninth day of the third month, 1909, New Westminster

Springtime, year two of the reign of Xuan Tong (1910) Spur-On Village, Hoi Ping County, Guangdong Province, China

Mak Dau crossed No-Name River with Kam Ho on his back. The sun was up and warm enough to bead his forehead with sweat. The women following behind giggled at the dark sweat marks which appeared on the back of his jacket. “Your Mak Dau’s like a leaky sieve, Six Fingers,” one said. “Hot, cold, whatever the weather, he always pours with sweat.” Six Fingers took a small towel from the basket on her arm, caught up with Mak Dau and gave it to him. Mak Dau hoisted the boy higher up his back, but refused the towel. He gave a little smile and Six Fingers understood he did not want to dirty it. When Mak Dau smiled, Six Fingers suddenly felt the day brighten. He had the whitest teeth in the whole of Spur-On Village. The other men’s teeth were a dirty yellow from the tobacco they smoked. Only Mak Dau’s teeth were like a row of pearls, a dazzling, almost bluishwhite.

Mak Dau was a younger cousin of Ha Kau on his mother’s side. Since he and Ah-Choi had married, Ha Kau had been promoted to steward in charge of the entire property. The Fongs owned scores of mu and a large residence with three courtyards, housing two families and a dozen or so labourers and servants. It was too much for Ha Kau to manage alone and he brought Mak Dau to help out. Mak Dau became the odd-job man and anyone in the house could call upon him at any time.

“Mak Dau, Ah-Wong’s twisted his ankle. Go and finish planting out the rice seedlings in the riverbank field.”

“Mak Dau, the pigs have made a hole in the door of the piggery, go and fix it, quick.”

“Mak Dau, I’m out of fuel, go up the hillside and get an armful, and hurry, I’ve got cooking to do.”

“Mak Dau, the water barrel’s got a crack in it. Get Wet-Eyes Loong to come and mend it.”

Mak Dau’s name came naturally to everyone’s lips. It was handy to have him around, and calling upon him became a household habit. Mak Dau could plug any gap, round or square, small or large. If the household was a cart, Mak Dau was neither the axle nor the rim, still less was he the spokes. But he was the layer of oil on the wheels. He was invisible, yet he was everywhere. Without Mak Dau, the wheels would still turn, but not smoothly.

The two brothers, Kam Shan and Kam Ho, were the first to discover just how useful Mak Dau was.

Mak Dau knew the names of all the birds in the woods. Mak Dau need only hear a cricket chirp once, and he knew exactly which leaf it was hiding under. Mak Dau could jump into No-Name River and stay under water (without a single bubble breaking the surface) until Kam Ho grew so frightened he shouted for help. Mak Dau picked banana leaves, soaked them in salt water till they softened, and stripped the thick green layer off the