Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [230]
But Yiu Kei was not taken in by her words. He really wanted to be like the village children, barefoot and dark-skinned, turning somersaults along the dikes, diving into the water and staying under for minutes on end, then crawling out naked and calling other children names like “Sissy whitey!”
The sun was climbing higher and Wai Kwok began to feel scared. “Let’s go back, Yiu Kei. We’ll get into trouble with Granny.” “It’s not time yet. I’ll take you to tickle fish,” his cousin said. “Can you really tickle fish, Yiu Kei?” Yiu Kei scoffed: “Of course, any idiot can do it.” They took off their shoes and walked down to the water’s edge.
This early in the day, there was not a soul at the river. The sun had not yet taken the chill off the water and no swimmers would come till midday. It was so quiet they could hear the fish gulping air. Swollen by the rains, the river reached halfway up the steps. Yiu Kei felt a tug at his hand.
“Let’s go home Yiu Kei,” said Wai Kwok shakily.
“No,” said Yiu Kei, although his voice shook a little too.
Yiu Kei wanted to go back. His “no” was just bravado. But before they could leave, a breeze blew up and the waters nodded, and suddenly came alive. Gently tickling the soles of Yiu Kei’s feet, they whispered to him: “Come in, little boy, why don’t you?”
Yiu Kei could not resist such a supplication. He let go of Wai Kwok’s hand and went down the steps.
An hour later, Yiu Kei’s body was returned to the Fongs’ diulau. The family and servants watched as men from the village carried in a bundle caked with sludge. They laid it down on the ground and dirty water pooled around it.
Six Fingers picked up Yiu Kei in her arms and held him on her knee. She pressed her face to his, but did not cry.
Ah-Hsien wailed and ran forward to take her son from Six Fingers. Six Fingers wrenched the hairpin from her bun, and jabbed it into Ah-Hsien’s face. “Why don’t you just go back to sleep and never wake up,” she said fiercely.
Ah-Hsien fell to the ground, holding her head in her hands and whimpering like a whipped dog. Mak Dau called some of the men and with some difficulty they carried her into the house.
Six Fingers fetched a basin of water and began to wipe Yiu Kei down. She made a little roll of a corner of the towel and cleaned his seven orifices and under his fingernails with the greatest care. Again and again, she changed the water in the basin until gradually it ran clear. But she could not clean Yiu Kei’s face. It was as if the silt had seeped under the skin, giving it a dark, purplish colouring.
Six Fingers washed and washed him.
Mak Dau tried to console her. “Ah-Hsien’s still young enough to give you a houseful of grandchildren. But you mustn’t leave this child lying here naked. Dress him now, before he gets stiff.”
Mak Dau reached for the towel in her hand. Six Fingers resisted, then finally relinquished it. Mak Dau helped her over to a tree where she could sit in the shade.
“Don’t stand there like a doorpost! Get him a change of clothes, will you?” Mak Dau shouted at his wife.
Ah-Yuet brought out Yiu Kei’s school uniform, dark blue with a khaki collar. He had grown so much this year, he was bursting out of his clothes and Six Fingers had asked Mr. Au, the village tailor, to make him a new uniform. It was brand new; it had never been worn.
Mak Dau and Ah-Yuet dressed Yiu Kei. Six Fingers’ ministrations had made his skin as fragile as a cicada’s wing and, as Ah-Yuet did up his buttons, she scratched Yiu Kei on the face with her fingernail. A trickle of blood oozed down his right cheek. “Stupid cow!” Mak