Dead Man's Gold and Other Stories by Paul Yee

the night. And she relied on the kindness of clan members and fellow villagers. Without them, she would have had to beg for food and coins from strangers in the market town. She tried to raise honest boys, but villagers told tales about the younger son, Ping, that made her sigh with sorrow.
    They said whenever Ping was given a dish of food to take home, he gulped down the choice pieces before his mother and brother ever saw the meal. When he ran small errands for neighbors, he kept the change by claiming the cash had been lost.
    When market stall-keepers accused him of stealing, his mother beat him with bamboo, but he grit his teeth and showed no remorse. Within days, she would hear fresh reports of thefts.

    Whenever Ping landed in trouble, his mother scolded the older brother.
    â€œWhere were you, you stupid thing?”
    â€œWhy weren’t you watching him?”
    â€œCan’t you keep him out of trouble?”
    Shek was two years older and always volunteered to do chores for the neighbors in return for a few coins. But the villagers told him, “You’re a good boy, but you should learn to talk fast like your brother. Sometimes he’s naughty, but he’s always quick and clever. He can sweet-talk his way out of any hole.”
    Shek tried to follow Ping everywhere. He couldn’t stop all the mischief because his younger brother always managed to evade him. One day, he saw Ping topple the bamboo scaffolding as workers constructed a towering arch, causing one man to fall and break his leg. But he told no one, not wanting to bring more grief to his mother.
    The two boys grew up. But young men who could neither read nor write had no future. They searched nearby towns and ports for work but returned home dusty and penniless. Finally, their mother decided to send them to Gold Mountain, desperately borrowing from money lenders and kinsmen to pay the passage.
    At departure time, she reached out and seized Ping. “I can’t teach you about honesty any more,” she cried. “In the New World, you will have to follow the laws of the land. When you return to the village, come back as a good man. In the meantime, send money so I can hold my head high.”
    Ping shrugged her off. He wasn’t pleased about leaving home and fending for himself. His mother had always washed his clothes and put food on the table.
    Then she gave Shek a single piece of advice. “Watch over your brother. It’s your duty.”
    When they arrived in the New World, the brothers split up. Shek joined a salmon-canning crew up north while Ping washed restaurant dishes in the city. Then Shek yanked planks off the chain at a sawmill in the coastal forests while Ping butchered hogs in the interior. Ping enjoyed the freedom of being away from his brother, but his slack work habits often got him fired from jobs, and then he would have to ask Shek to send him money.
    Finally, the two ended up together in the city, where Shek borrowed money to buy a farm by the river. The farmhouse was built of logs held in place by plaster and mud, but the soil was dark, soft and fragrant. Shek joyfully flung handfuls of dirt into the air.
    â€œI own land!” he exulted. “I own something that lasts forever.” He said to his brother, “Come work with me. Everyone has to buy food, because everyone has to eat. We’ll grow rich together.”
    Ping shook his head. He sneered at the lopsided barn, beat-up truck and battered equipment his brother now owned. The rusty tin roof sagged and leaked, and there was no running water in the house.
    â€œThis place stinks of mud and dung,” he cried. “I didn’t come to Gold Mountain to roll in the dirt like a hog.”
    He fled downtown and found a job in a laundry. There, great iron boilers roared to heat water and dry the wash. As he stirred sheets and shirts in vats of detergent, he would sweat all day even when it rained or snowed outside. Whenever his boss went