Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [257]
When he awoke, it was completely dark. Kam Shan was still not home and the only sound in the house was the ticking of the old wall clock. Ah-Fat turned over and felt something digging into his neck. He sat up and patted the pillow. It felt as if a piece of cardboard had been hidden somewhere inside it. He pushed his hand in and brought out a letter. The envelope was stamped with the British Union Jack at the top left and a shield on the right, set in a square. Ah-Fat recognized the Canadian flag. It was addressed to Frank Fong, and the postmark was dated a month ago. Ah-Fat was annoyed—how could Kam Shan have forgotten to give it to him?
The letter was neatly typed, in English. Ah-Fat’s English was rudimentary at best and he had to read it a few times before he could understand anything. Even after reading it several more times, there were still bits which made no sense to him.
Dear Mr. Frank Fong, We deeply regret … your son Mr. Jimmy Fong … fallen in battle in the Republic of France. We will always … heroism … glory … defence of liberty …
As he read it for the fifth time, the words swam before his eyes and the page blurred.
“The light … turn on the light,” Ah-Fat mumbled to himself. An immense darkness came down and engulfed him.
Year thirty-four of the Republic (1945)
Spur-On Village, Hoi Ping County, Guangdong Province, China
Six Fingers saw the spider on the wall when she awoke.
It progressed in stops and starts, dragging its large iridescent abdomen until it finally reached the large photograph of Ah-Fat in a white suit with a pipe in his mouth.
A lucky spider, Six Fingers thought to herself.
Ah-Fat had had the picture taken on his last visit home, in the Chu Hoi Studio in Canton. It was the year that Kam Sau was born. She was thirtytwo now, which made Ah-Fat.…
The morning sun seemed to cling heavily to her eyelids, forcing them shut again. Six Fingers went back to sleep before she had finished the thought.
When she woke up again, the spider was still there, perched on Ah-Fat’s nose, making it look from where she lay as if there was a big hole in it.
Her heart gave an anxious leap and she felt around on the bed for Wai Heung.
Wai Heung had reached school age but Six Fingers absolutely refused to let her attend classes. She even refused to get a tutor in and insisted on teaching her to read and write herself. “At least until she’s completed lower primary,” Six Fingers said. “Then she can go to school.” Kam Sau and Ah-Yuen argued but Six Fingers refused to budge.
Her other grandchildren, Yiu Kei and Wai Kwok, had both died young, and Yin Ling was in Gold Mountain. Kam Shan was too old to have any more children, and who knew when Kam Ho would come back home to his wife, Ah-Hsien. After she had been raped and beaten by the Japanese soldiers, Kam Sau could no longer bear children. So Wai Heung was the only grandchild at home and Six Fingers cherished and protected her in every way she knew. Wherever Wai Heung was, Six Fingers worried about her. She even shared her bed with the little girl.
Wai Heung was awake and sitting up braiding her hair. She had such a thick rope of hair that even when it was divided into two braids, they were as thick as sugar canes. She had no mirror and the results were distinctly lopsided. Smiling, Six Fingers grabbed the ox-horn comb from Wai Heung’s hand: “If you can’t even braid your hair, who’ll marry you when you’re a big girl?” Wai Heung giggled. She was a good-natured child whom it