Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [119]
Six Fingers walked down the steps of the house and reached the sandy roadway at the bottom. It had just rained and the sky had not completely cleared. A few rays of sunshine filtered through the clouds. The road was wet and the moisture seeped through the soles of her embroidered cloth shoes. When Six Fingers looked up, the sun’s rays hurt her eyes. The wild banana trees at the roadside were covered in fat white blossoms. The flowers and leaves stirred in the breeze, looking almost ghostly. Six Fingers thought she would like to go closer, but although her head willed it, her legs felt weak. She had not gone out for nearly two years. The road, the sun, the breeze all seemed to be ganging up on her.
She walked unsteadily for a few more paces and then caught sight of the new building. The position originally chosen for it by the fengshui master was a piece of high ground at the entrance to the village, a propitious place for the dragon to show off its pearl, but there were protests that building such a tall house there would block the good fortune of the other villagers. They were forced to choose a piece of wasteland at the other end of the village next to a stand of wild banana trees. To reach it they needed to walk farther, but they could see their new house from where they stood. “House” was how Six Fingers referred to it to herself, but all she could actually see at this stage was bamboo fencing. This was to prevent others from seeing it before it was finished and to give shelter to the builders if it was wet or windy.
She could at least see how tall the building was. She knew they had only reached the fourth floor but its height still frightened her. She had never seen such a tall building. It made everything else nearby dwindle by comparison. The few feeble rays of sunlight that had broken through the clouds seemed to shine right down onto the roof of their new house. Six Fingers put her hands to her heart and gasped in astonishment. “Oh, Ah-Fat!” She could think of nothing more to say.
“This must be the tallest building in the whole township area, mustn’t it?” she said to her son.
“Mum,” said Kam Ho, “we’ve never been inside the Emperor’s palace but this is definitely the tallest building in the township. Even the church in Yuen Kai has only two storeys.”
Gradually Six Fingers’ eyes brightened as if lit by the sun’s rays. She gave a small sigh. “Kam Ho, when you grow up, you must go to Gold Mountain like your big brother and help your father. Life’s been so tough for your dad.” “When’s Dad coming to get me?” asked Kam Ho. “When you’re a big boy. Will you miss your mum when you leave?” Kam Ho did not answer. He was only twelve, and did not understand what separation meant. His mind was on something else. After a pause, he asked Six Fingers: “Mum, is Gold Mountain really paved with gold?” “Of course not. Your father scraped together enough to build this by saving every cent, and it’s taken him decades.” “But people who live here save up every cent too, so why don’t they build a diulau like this?”
Six Fingers had no answer to that.
“Missus! Missus!” Ah-Choi shouted, running towards them.
“The old … old Missus!” she stammered, out of breath.
Six Fingers stood rooted to the spot as Ah-Choi panted like an ox. There was no point in pressing her when she was flustered. You had to give her time to calm down before she could get the words out.
“The old Missus, she’s spitting blood!”
By the time Six Fingers and Kam Ho got back to the house, the herbalist had finished taking the patient’s pulse and was putting his medicine chest in order. Mrs. Mak lay in the bed, her face deadly pale, with just a crimson spot on her lips where the blood had not been wiped off. Her breathing was very faint. Ah-Fat’s uncle and aunt were there, wailing as if she had already died.
“How is her pulse?” asked Six Fingers. “You should prepare for the funeral,” said the herbalist. “She has been ill for a very long time and there is little hope that