Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [113]
“How much?” asked Mrs. Mak. “Anything less than five hundred dollars and you won’t see your young master again,” said Kam Mo Keung. “Chu Sei’s never accepted anything less than that. He doesn’t normally bother to kidnap women. Women are worth nothing, because most families won’t bother to buy them back. Six Fingers only got bundled away with her son because she cried for help.”
Mrs. Mak ground her teeth and fainted again. They carried her into her room and Ha Kau went to speak with Ah-Fat’s uncle and aunt. But the pair hummed and hawed so indecisively that Ha Kau had no option but to turn to Mak Dau. Between them they arranged to sell off the family fields.
Forced to sell in haste, they had to accept the derisory amounts they were offered. It was not enough. They made Ah-Fat’s uncle and aunt sell some jewellery, and finally bundled up all the money and prepared to ransom Six Fingers and Kam Ho.
Mak Dau went with Kam Mo Keung. “You’ll have to leave any weapons behind when you see Chu Sei,” said Kam. “Before they let you into the stockade, they’ll search you from the hairs on your head to the soles of your feet. If they find anything, they’ll have your head off on the spot.” Mak Dau squatted down without a word and smoked half a pipe. After a few moments, he pulled Ha Kau to one side. “Go and buy some firecrackers from the village store, the more the merrier,” he said. “Are you mad? The sky’s falling in and you want to mess around with firecrackers?” “You listen to me, Ha Kau. Wrap them up good and tight and put them in the pigpen. And whatever you do, don’t let anyone see you.”
Ha Kau did as he was told and threw the bundle into the pigpen. Mak Dau went into the pen. “Watch the door and don’t let anyone in,” he told Ha Kau. A little while later, he came out with his pipe in his hand. Ha Kau went in behind him to have a look. The ground was littered with scraps of red paper, but he had not heard any firecrackers go off. “What kind of a prank is this?” he said. Mak Dau held up the pipe. “They’re all in here, all your firecrackers,” he said. “I can’t be sure of blowing up the whole stockade and everyone in it, but I can guarantee I’ll get one or two.” Ha Kau went pale. “You … you … you trying to get yourself killed?” he stuttered. “Your mum gave you to me to look after and I’ve got to give you back to her in one piece.” Mak Dau laughed. “Don’t worry, Uncle, I’m going to bring the Missus and the young master home. If I die, how’ll they get back?”
Mak Dau set off at dusk. No one dared go to sleep. They lit a votary lamp and waited. In the dead of night one day later, a bedraggled Mak Dau came into the courtyard carrying a dark bundle on his back. They peered at it; it was the Missus. Her hair had come loose and dark masses of it cascaded down her back, enshrouding her body. Mak Dau put her down and she sagged to the ground. Kam Shan threw himself on her, grabbed the front of her jacket and shook her. The distraught family burst into sobs.
After a while, a dusty ball of a figure tumbled in—it was Kam Ho. Mrs. Mak enfolded him so tightly in her arms that her long pale fingernails gouged deep dents in his flesh. Ah-Choi brought out a bowl of rice gruel; only when Six Fingers and Kam Ho had both drunk a little did she allow herself a little sigh of relief. Six Fingers got to her feet and stumbled a few paces to Mrs. Mak. Kneeling before her, she cried, “Mum!” Mrs. Mak’s eyes stared sightlessly at her but the old woman said nothing. Six Fingers kowtowed three times before her. “I’ve been an undutiful daughter-in-law. I’ve caused you such a lot of distress.”
Mrs. Mak grunted. “Would I make so bold as to fret about you? Since the day you married into the Fong family, have I had any control over where you went or what you felt? You go where you want; you do what you want to do. Ah-Fat spoils