Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [92]
“Mr. Chu doesn’t believe in God so he can’t take the oath on the Bible.”
“Well, what does he believe in, apart from money?”
“You motherfucker” was Ah-Lam’s response when the interpreter translated the judge’s question. The interpreter was aghast. After a pause, he said to the judge with some embarrassment: “Mr. Chu hopes your mother well.”
This time, a snort of laughter escaped Ah-Fat.
“Thank you. But you still have not told me in the name of which god you would like to take the oath. Do you want to do what you did before?”
This was not the first time Ah-Lam had been in court. He had been accused of pilfering clothes three months previously. His accusers were different but the offence was the same. Each man had given Ah-Lam clothes to wash and had collected them from him after washing. But each man claimed afterwards that Ah-Lam had not returned their clothes. Ah-Lam could talk the hind legs off a donkey but had not been able to argue his way out of it and the judge had fined him thirty dollars. On the last occasion, Ah-Lam had taken the oath before the portrait of Lord Kwan, but Lord Kwan had not looked after him, and Ah-Lam was damned if he was going to pay his respects to Lord Kwan once again.
Ah-Lam scratched his head, and finally said: “Chicken’s blood.”
The judge raised his eyebrows. His glasses dropped off the bridge of his nose and onto the table in front of him.
“Your Honour,” said the interpreter, “solemnizing an oath with the blood of a chicken is an ancient custom among the people of the Qing Empire, and it is both commonly used and accepted. The defendant is not making fun of the court.”
The judge ordered the court adjourned, and when it re-assembled a short while later, a burly police officer, at least six foot three inches in height, strode in carrying a pure white leghorn hen. The hen’s wings were tightly bound to its body with a cord but it was surprisingly vigorous. When set down in the aisle, it scrabbled madly with its feet, squawking loudly and filling the courtroom with a cloud of snowy-white feathers.
Ah-Lam stuck three sticks of incense into the table in front of the judge and lit them with a taper. He slumped to his knees and bowed three times. Then from behind his ear he extracted a piece of paper rolled up tightly till it resembled a cigarette, unrolled it and began to read it aloud to the judge. Ah-Fat had written his statement out for him but Ah-Lam could not read, so with Ah-Fat’s help he had learned it off by heart, word for word.
I, Chu Ah-Lam, born in Dung Ning Lai Village, Ng Wing Town, Hoi Ping County, Guangdong Province, China, have worked as a washerman at the Whispering Bamboos Laundry at 732 Georgia Street (originally of 963 Main Street) for eight years. At the beginning of this month, Mr. Hunter brought in three garments for washing—a sweater and two pairs of trousers. The sweater was to be washed and the trousers were to be washed and mended. The lighter-coloured pair had frayed trouser cuffs and the darker pair had a cigarette burn in the pocket. The washing and mending was done by the next day. Mr. Hunter’s maid came to collect them at about ten o’clock. I wrapped them in tissue paper and gave them to her. That motherfucking baldie Hunter has stitched me up. If he’s really lost his clothes he should ask his maid. She’s the one who should be taken to court. She probably nicked the clothes and gave them to her fancy man. It’s fucking bad luck on me. I, Chu Ah-Lam, swear this on this chicken’s blood before God in heaven and my venerable ancestors and if I’ve spoken one word of a lie, may I be eaten by rats in my house and run over by a horse and cart outside it. May I choke to death on my phlegm when I lie down, may I die of purulent boils on my arse when I sit down, and when I stand, may I be struck dead by five bolts of lightning.
Ah-Lam had begun his recitation according to Ah-Fat’s script, but he soon felt that the language was too high-flown. It sounded to him as pulpy as a frosted eggplant, so he dropped the paper and proceeded to improvise the rest. As the interpreter