Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [95]
The judge shook his head and grumbled: “Are you having a joke at my expense? Why didn’t you bring all this up when the court was in session? It would have saved everyone a great deal of trouble. That poor hen might have been spared to lay a few more eggs.” And he banged the gavel hard on the table: “The case of Hunter v. Chu is hereby concluded. The evidence of the plaintiff does not stand up in court. Mr. Chu does not need to pay any compensation to Mr. Hunter. Mr. Hunter will bear all the legal costs. The court is dismissed.”
Rick bowed to the judge. “Your Honour, I hope that my witness statement can be kept permanently on file. It’s hard enough for these poor Chinese to run their small businesses without these people who constantly make trouble for them. If the Whispering Bamboos Laundry is ever taken to court again in a case like this, the judge can refer to my testimony, or call me as a witness.”
Once outside, Ah-Fat could not resist asking Rick: “What the hell was written in that letter?”
Rick looked around to check no one was listening and then muttered: “An invitation as an honoured guest to the Royal Afternoon Tea on Victoria Day. The seats closest to the orchestra.”
If Ah-Fat’s English was rudimentary, Ah-Lam’s was even more so, and he was unable to say anything much to Rick. However, he tugged at Ah-Fat’s sleeve and said: “You did the right thing, kid, when you saved that kuai lo’s life on the railroad.” “That’s all very well for you to say. The scar’s not on your face, is it?” Ah-Fat retorted.
Rick snapped his fingers at a carriage on the other side of the street and the driver brought it slowly over. Rick jumped in, and then turned back to Ah-Fat: “Next time customers come to pick up their clothes, get them to sign for them. It’ll save you a lot of bother.” “Right,” said Ah-Fat, with nod. The carriage creaked away but after a few paces stopped again at Rick’s command. Rick came back to say to Ah-Fat:
“That eminent Chinese scholar of yours, Mr. Liang, is staying at the hotel. From what I hear, he’s been promoting his reform movement and planning to overthrow the Empress Dowager. He’s giving a lecture this evening. Are you coming?”
Even though Rick broke his sentences into short sections and spoke very slowly, Ah-Lam still did not understand. “What bullshit’s he talking now?” he asked Ah-Fat. “We’ll put up the shutters early today and we’re going to the hotel.” “But Ah-Yee’s already delivered the washed and ironed linen we got yesterday. What’s the point in going back there again?” “Mr. Liang’s here and he’s staying at the hotel.” “What Mr. Liang?” “Liang Qichao, the one who plotted constitutional reform with the Emperor, and the Empress Dowager put a price on his head of a hundred thousand ounces of silver. He’s lecturing tonight.” “If you get involved with the Monarchists, and they get wind of it back home, your whole family will be killed.” “A lot of Chinese here in Vancouver have joined the Monarchists. If we don’t go shooting our mouths off, they won’t get wind of it.” “You go if you want. Me and Ah-Yee, we’re off to the Fan Tan gambling dens. Whatever party’s in power, the rich are still rich and the poor are still poor. So what if Mr. Liang’s here? I still have to wash clothes to earn a living.”
“Bullshit,” said Ah-Fat. “If China was just a little bit stronger, would you and me have to leave our parents, wives and kids and come and work over here, and have the yeung fan make trouble for us all the time? We’ve got a young, promising emperor. He’s had a Western education, and if he can take power, he can use that knowledge to contain the Westerners and revitalize our country. Then you and I can get back home and live with our families.” Ah-Lam had married a few years before, but had not managed to raise the money for the head tax or the boat passage home, and had not seen his son since his birth. Ah-Fat had touched a raw nerve, and Ah-Lam fell