Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [182]
“It’s always the women who come and buy from us. Isn’t there a woman in your house?” asked her father, sweeping the debris of old leaves from the floor of the cart. The girl had been brushing the mud off the front of her jacket but now she paused and he knew she wanted to hear what he would say.
“I’m in charge of the housekeeping,” he said boldly after a moment’s hesitation.
The first sentence was the most difficult, and after this the words came fluently.
“The master of the house is the boss of Vancouver’s biggest department store, the Hudson’s Bay Company. When the English emperor came on a visit, the master was invited to tea. The mistress is always going out to dinner parties with him so I’m in charge of the house.”
This was the longest answer that Kam Ho had ever given in his life and when he finished he was surprised at himself. It was so much easier than he ever imagined.
The girl’s father tut-tutted in astonishment. “No wonder they live in such a grand house,” he said.
“Have you ever seen the English emperor?” the girl asked him as she looked up.
He found it difficult to answer. He could not bring himself to lie boldly and say, yes, he had seen the emperor. But neither did he want to say no, because he was basking in the sparkling look of admiration she gave him. Then the words slipped off his tongue. He smiled slightly: “We ordinary folk can’t meet the emperor. But I’ve seen a photograph that the master brought home. He’s quite young and handsome.” Kam Ho felt satisfied with the way he had put it. It did not sound in the least boastful, but still impressive enough.
“Jimmy! Jimmy!” Mrs. Henderson was calling him.
Kam Ho was not about to answer immediately but his chain of thought had been interrupted and he found he had dried up. He picked up the vegetable basket and said: “Could you bring some beans next week?” Before the father could reply, the girl nodded her head. Kam Ho knew he would see her again next week.
“Jimmy! Jimmy!” the call came again.
Kam Ho had to go. Though he had said a lot, still he had not time to say what he really wanted to. Still, there would be next Wednesday.
As he went through the garden gate, Kam Ho suddenly stopped, put down the basket in his hand and looked for a sharp pebble. He cut the stem of a rose and ran up to the cart. Throwing the rose onto the basket where she sat, he said: “It smells nice. Have a smell.” He really wanted her to put it in her hair but he did not dare suggest that. He was afraid, not of her, but of her father. The man stood between him and her and he had not yet worked out a way of sneaking past him.
When Kam Ho climbed the steps to the house, he nearly collided with Mrs. Henderson; the doorway was dark as he went in out of the sun’s glare, and he did not see her.
“Mr. Henderson’s coming home early today, and he’s taking Jenny to Stanley Park to see the sailing boats. Go and make us a picnic lunch, and of course you’re coming with us too.”
Kam Ho said, “Yes, ma’am,” but he had no idea what he was saying yes to, because he was not listening. He had left his eyes and ears outside. Far away down the street, he saw more women coming out of their houses and going up to her cart. He heard her timid voice like a leaf brushing his ears. “Fresh greens. Just harvested from the fields. Our own crops, no bugs in them,” she said in answer to each of the women’s questions.
“Was it prickly, Jimmy?” asked Mrs. Henderson.
“What?”
“The rose,” said Mrs. Henderson with a slight smile.
He looked down, almost burying his head in the cleanly plucked chicken in his hand. He could not answer because he knew that as soon as he opened his mouth, he would blush. This summer,