Gold Mountain Blues

by Ling Zhang

  Six Fingers dated the change in her daughter-in-law to a meeting a month or so ago, when the work team sent by the provincial government arrived in Spur-On Village. There were three men and one woman. Once they had settled in, they called a meeting of all the villagers. Six Fingers was not as energetic as she once was and felt it was too much trouble to go so she sent Ah-Hsien and Mak Dau’s wife, Ah-Yuet, in her stead. The meeting lasted all evening and did not break up till midnight. When they arrived home, Six Fingers asked Ah-Hsien what the meeting was about. “We’re setting up a PPA and a WA.” Six Fingers had no idea what they were talking about, and Ah-Hsien explained: “The PPA is the association for poor peasants, and the WA is standing up for oppressed women.”

  After that, Ah-Hsien was always off to meetings. Every time she came home, she would get into a huddle with Ah-Yuet and they would whisper together for hours. Six Fingers had no idea what they talked about—everything nowadays had a new name. Not only that, but Ah-Hsien switched from Cantonese and adopted standard Chinese, like Mrs. Wong from the work team. The difference was that Mrs. Wong was one of the cadres sent to the South to do revolutionary work, and spoke it very well, while Ah-Hsien laboured over the strange sounds and made such a hash of them she was soon the laughingstock of the village. Ah-Hsien did not think it was funny. She began to baulk at doing work around the house too. She no longer behaved like the docile daughter-in-law she had been and there was nothing Six Fingers could do about it.

  Kam Sau and Wai Heung arrived at the entrance to Spur-On Village at noon. From a distance, they could see people milling around the clump of wild banana trees. They went closer, squeezing their way through the crowd, until they reached a huge pile of furniture: carved rosewood side tables and high-backed armchairs, a dressing table complete with mirror, a rosewood double bed, reclining chairs for sitting outside on a summer evening, dining tables and chairs. Everything was jumbled up together, and all of it had been brought out of the diulau. (The bed was the one Kam Sau and Ah-Yuen had spent their wedding night in.)

  Villagers were still emerging from the diulau laden like ants with the Fongs’ belongings. The tailor’s nephew, Big Head Au, led the procession. Big Head was not his proper name, of course; his teacher had bestowed the name “Shun Fong,” meaning “plain sailing,” on him when the boy started school. But not even his own mother remembered that, and he was only ever known as Big Head in the village. Just now, Big Head was carrying out the old gramophone which Ah-Fat had brought back from Gold Mountain. The gramophone was top-heavy with the weight of the horn and Big Head swore. “What the fuck use is this, anyway? It’s no use as a cooking pot or a bowl and whoever gets it’ll have to find room for it!”

  Kam Sau saw with astonishment that the person helping Big Head carry the gramophone was none other than her own sister-in-law, Ah-Hsien.

  The majority clan in Spur-On Village was the Fongs. The Au clan were outsiders and in the minority. The Fongs had always owned and farmed the central land while the Aus had had to break their backs tilling outlying plots on the fringes. Even though there were tenant farmers in both clans, the Fongs always got the best land nearest the village, and the Aus had to make do with poor, out-of-the-way plots. If the Fong family had to marry one of its daughters to an Au, she was certain to find herself in a position of power and privilege in her new family whereas if an Au girl married Fong, she would find herself scorned even by the Fongs’ cats, dogs and chickens. Just like Ah-Hsien, in fact.

  Such had been the case for over a century, but nothing lasts forever. When the work team arrived in the village, the Fongs got their comeuppance. The Aus were classified favourably, as “poor peasants” or “hired labourers.” When the PPA was set up, most of its members were Aus, and Big Head Au was elected as its chairman. Nowadays it was Big Head Au who called the shots in the village. Big Head Au, once a tiny scrub struggling to sprout between the fingers of the Fong clan, had now grown into a tall tree that no hand could shake, not even the powerful Fongs.

  Kam Sau planted herself in front of Big Head.

  “Who gave you permission to seize my family’s belongings? Was it the work team leader?”

  Big Head Au was stopped in his tracks—not by Kam Sau’s words but by what she was wearing. He might have been illiterate but he was nonetheless sharp eyed. As chairman of the PPA, he had gone with the work team to attend meetings in the county town on a few occasions. That doublebreasted “Lenin jacket” was what county-level cadres wore.

  The villagers waiting behind him were getting impatient. “Why are you letting a woman stand in your way, Big Head?” they shouted. “She’s only the daughter of a landlord.”

  Needled, Big Head Au shoved Kam Sau so hard she almost fell and said: “Your family are big landlords. If we can’t redistribute your chattels, whose can we take?”

  Kam Sau turned to appeal to Ah-Hsien. “Sister-in-law, you know better than anyone where our family’s money came from. You’re in the Women’s Association. Tell them what kind of a life my dad lived in Gold Mountain and how my brother was given a medal for patriotism!”

  Of all the members of the Fong family, it was Kam Sau that Ah-Hsien was most in awe of. She was the one with the most education. Her manner was usually pleasant and amiable, and what she said always made sense. So much so that Ah-Hsien found it impossible to pick holes in her reasoning. Her fear of Six Fingers was skin deep, but she feared Kam Sau in her bones.

  Today though, she was emboldened by the people standing behind her. And in her mind, Kam Sau’s arguments did not seem so irrefutable after all. “You’re not my sister-in-law,” she exclaimed. “Your family bought me as a servant. Have you ever talked to me about family matters? When your brother writes home, does he ever ask about me?”

  There were shouts of “Don’t pay any attention to that landlord’s daughter! Tell her to get lost!”

  Kam Sau and Wai Heung ran into the house and upstairs. Six Fingers was sitting on a stool in her room, her head tilted upwards. There was a streak of dried blood at the corner of her mouth. Mak Dau was holding a wet towel to her forehead. “Granny!” cried Wai Heung, running to her. Six Fingers had her eyes shut and cold tears ran down her face to her ears. The diulau was almost emptied of its possessions; all that was left in the room was the bed, a cracked dressing table and the wooden stool she was sitting on.

  “Who hit you, Mum?” asked Kam Sau.

  Six Fingers said nothing. Mak Dau answered for her, though he seemed to have great difficulty getting the words out.

  “That pig-ignorant wife of mine, Ah-Yuet.”

  Villagers were coming downstairs waving the rifles that had been kept under the roof. Mak Dau went pale. “Mind the bores! Don’t let them go off!” he shouted.

  “If they do, it’ll be you that gets it in the neck!” they shouted over their shoulders.

  Ah-Hsien was the last to leave, carrying a bundle of her own bits and pieces.

  Six Fingers called her into the room. “Ah-Hsien, wait! I want to talk to you!” She made Mak Dau shut the door.

  Ah-Hsien stood, wavering. She could not meet Six Fingers’ gaze.

  “Legally, you’re still my daughter-in-law,” she began, “and no matter how much they seize, none of it will come to you. You’ll have gone to all this trouble for nothing.”

  Ah-Hsien pressed her lips together. The barb had hit home.

  “I won’t get anything, and you won’t have anything either, so we’re even.”

  “Big Head Au’s got a wife, and in the new society, he can’t take you as a second wife. If you hang around him, you’ll end up with nothing.”

  Ah-Hsien flushed and then grew pale as she listened.

  “I know you hate me. I’ve never treated you well ever since you married into this family, and you’ve had to put up with being a grass widow for years while Kam Ho was away.”

  Six Fingers undid her bun and the black cloth which covered it, took from it a couple of heavy gold rings, and gave them to Ah-Hsien.

/>   “Don’t tell anyone. Find yourself a decent man to marry, put all this trouble behind you and live out your life in peace with him.”

  Ah-Hsien took the rings and her eyes reddened. She looked as if she wanted to say something but could not find the words. Finally she nodded without speaking and left the room.

  When she had gone, Six Fingers slumped on the stool as if the effort of talking had exhausted her.

  “Everything your father amassed over a lifetime, I’ve lost the lot.…”

  The sound of her voice echoed in the empty room.

  “Your brothers will come home one day, and I won’t have left them anything to inherit, apart from a few family letters, and some photos as mementoes.”

  Kam Sau grew distraught. She could not bear to hear her mother talking about her death. She gripped her hands between her own. “Please don’t worry,” she begged her. “Ah-Yuen and I have met Liu, the head of the county government, several times at meetings. He’s a good man and very friendly. We’ll go and see him tomorrow and tell him what’s happened. He only has to give the word and I’m sure they’ll return everything to us.”

  Six Fingers shook her head. “The world has changed. No one can stop it. Don’t wait till tomorrow. Take Wai Heung straight back there now, in case anything else happens.”

  Six Fingers had a plan of her own. The gold rings she had given her daughter-in-law were not the last of her possessions. She had more valuables hidden in her shoes, but would not use them until her daughter and granddaughter had left. She had heard about two women in neighbouring villages who had killed themselves after being classified as landlords. One had thrown herself into a well, and by the time they pulled her body out, her belly had swollen like a woman about to give birth. When they poked her navel, brown water spurted out. The other cut her own throat with a vegetable knife. There was so much blood, the shoes of the people who took her away stuck to the floor. Six Fingers did not want to die such a vile and humiliating death. When she was little and living with her elder sister in Red Hair’s house, she had heard her nephew’s tutor tell the story of Second Sister Yu in the Red Chamber Dream who kills herself by swallowing gold. This was the kind of clean ending that she wanted for herself.

  “Yes, go now,” urged Mak Dau. “Wai Heung’s just a young girl. She’ll be terrified if there’s more trouble.” Thinking that she would see Mr. Liu in the county town first thing tomorrow morning, Kam Sau reassured her mother once more that there was no need to worry, took her daughter by the hand and turned to go.

  It was too late. Suddenly there was a hammering on the bedroom door. A timid voice said: “Kam Sau, open the door!” It was Ah-Hsien.

  As Kam Sau did so, she found herself swept back inside by furious villagers who crowded past her, pushing Ah-Hsien in front of them.

  Big Head Au jabbed Six Fingers’ forehead angrily with his finger. “So, Mrs. Kwan, you think you can hide your valuables from us, you evil woman!” “They … they saw them … I didn’t tell them!” stammered Ah-Hsien, not daring to look her mother-in-law in the face.

  Big Head’s blow had broken the skin, and a drop of blood rose and spread, congealing between Six Fingers’ eyebrows like a big black wart.

  “So what else are you hiding?” demanded Big Head.

  Six Fingers shook her head. “Those two rings were the only valuables I had left.”

  There were jeers at this. “You expect us to believe that? Your family has papered your walls with American dollar bills!” “Your family sold fields to buy guns! You must have more than a couple of gold rings left!”

  “You search her. I bet you’ll find stuff hidden somewhere on her,” Big Head said to Ah-Hsien.

  Ah-Hsien wavered. Then there was a taunt from the back of the crowd: “When push comes to shove, she can’t face the class struggle, can she?”

  “I’ll give you a shove!” retorted Ah-Hsien. She went to Six Fingers and began to undo her top buttons, whispering as she did so: “If there’s anything else, better give it up. They won’t go away till they’ve got it.”

  After a moment’s thought, Six Fingers took off her shoes.

  The cloth shoes were cut up with a pair of scissors. Finally, the villagers found four gold bands and two pairs of shiny gold earrings secreted between layers of the shoe uppers. There were roars of delight.

  “What else have you got? If you don’t tell us, we’ll carry on searching you!” shouted Big Head.

  “Just this diulau. If you want to chop it up and divide it between you, go ahead,” said Six Fingers through gritted teeth.

  “Right, if that’s all you can say, I’ll have you all searched, starting with the youngest,” said Big Head, pointing Ah-Hsien towards Wai Heung.

  “She’s just a school kid!” protested Ah-Hsien. “Besides she doesn’t live here. What’s she going to know?”

  Big Head pushed Ah-Hsien out of the way. “If you won’t search her, I will. And I’ll find it even if it’s hidden up her cunt.”

  “She’s just a child, you bastard!” cried Ah-Hsien. Big Head paid no attention, and started to undo Wai Heung’s blouse.

  Wai Heung wanted to scream, but no sound came out. She was trembling like a leaf. Then she struck out as hard as she could. Two bloody scratches appeared on Big Head’s face. Furious, he abandoned the buttons and tore at her clothes. With a ripping sound, the top half of her blouse came away in his hands, leaving her skinny shoulders bare.

  “Let her go! I’ve got the gold,” Mak Dau shouted, incandescent with rage.

  The villagers were cowed for an instant, and then began to swarm round Mak Dau. “I have to do this. But I’ll make it up to you in the next life,” he muttered to Six Fingers, as he felt in his trouser waistband.

  He pulled out his revolver. He aimed it at Big Head and gently pulled the trigger. A red flower blossomed on the man’s head. The onlookers sprang back in horror, though not quickly enough to avoid being spattered.

  Mak Dau pulled the trembling Wai Heung to him. “Close your eyes, child. It’ll be better soon.” And he shot her through the heart. Wai Heung twitched in his arms, and then relaxed.

  The third bullet was for Kam Sau.

  The fourth was for Six Fingers.

  The fifth and last was for himself but he had not calculated on the revolver jamming before he could use it.

  He threw it down, and pushing the villagers aside, made a dash for the stairs.

  After a moment’s shock, they ran after him. Mak Dau was getting on in years, and there was no way he could outrun them. They were almost upon him when Mak Dau turned and aimed a kick at the closest one. Then he threw himself from the window.

  For many years after that, no one, whether they were Fong or Au, would speak of the terrible events of that day in 1952. The Spur-On villagers, so peaceable that they would have prayed remorsefully to Buddha for days afterwards if they so much as hurt a fly, had witnessed five people killed in one day, and two others driven mad: Ah-Hsien and Ah-Yuet.

  The corpses were hurriedly buried and from that day on no one dared set foot in the diulau. It was said that in stormy weather someone could be heard weeping inside. And sometimes at dead of night, lights were seen inside the building.

  “The Haunted House” was the name the villagers gave it.

  Not only did no one dare go into the haunted house, they were also too frightened to till the land around it. As the years passed, it gradually reverted to a scrubby wasteland.

  1961

  Vancouver, British Columbia

  Amy sat in the back seat of the blue Ford as it roared through the streets to Uncle Bill’s house with her mother at the wheel.

  The car was so old, it had lost its suspension and Amy’s bottom had pins and needles from the juddering and shaking.

  Someone had given her mother the car, perhaps Uncle Bill, or perhaps it was Uncle Shaun, the one before Uncle Bill, or Uncle Joseph who was around at the same time as Uncle Shaun. There had been a succession of uncles around her mother, to
o many for Amy to remember them all.

  Amy was five years old. She had brown eyes in deep-set sockets, chestnut-coloured hair and a prominent nose. Her skin was so pale she might have been anemic. Unless you looked carefully, there was no trace of her Chinese parentage. And that was just how her mother, Yin Ling, wanted it. Sometimes Yin Ling would look her daughter in the eyes, and say deliberately: “Don’t ever … ever … change.” When that happened, Amy would feel her mother’s eyes jabbing her all over, and she would feel like crying. But then Yin Ling would smile and say: “Don’t get upset. Mummy likes you just how you are.”

  Yin Ling never told a soul where she had been in the dozen or so years she was away. She had come back three years ago and since then she had had a succession of jobs. For the last few months, she had been working as a waitress in a restaurant. When she was on the day shift, she left Amy with a neighbour. When she was on night shift, she would leave Amy with one uncle or another, and pick her up the next morning. Amy spent the night in many uncles’ houses. Sometimes when she woke in the morning, she would call: “Uncle Shaun!” and Uncle Bill would appear. Sometimes she knew quite well that it was Uncle Joseph who was making her breakfast, but would find herself saying “Thank you, Uncle Luke.” But of all the uncles, it was Uncle Bill who had lasted the longest.

  The pins and needles felt like ants crawling over Amy’s bottom as the car juddered and shook. While her mother applied her lipstick in the mirror, Amy quietly put her hand down her skirt to give the ants a good scratch. Once. Twice. Three times. At the third, her mother spotted what she was doing.

  “Amy Smith!”

  When her mother called her by her full name, Amy knew she was really angry. Sure enough, Yin Ling threw the lipstick cover at her, scoring an accurate hit on the back of Amy’s hand.