believe that the war was over, that I had survived.
I thought back to my conversation with Magnus at the bar of the Selangor Club a month before, when I was still a Deputy Public Prosecutor. Returning to my office after I had finished a case, I had cut through one of the narrow lanes behind the courts. Turning a corner, I found my way blocked by a crowd. Men in white singlets and black pants were setting up paper effigies of Japanese soldiers, the life-sized figures shown being disembowelled by the demons of hell. I had heard of these rites, but had never witnessed one. They were held to soothe the spirits of those killed by the Japanese, spirits now wandering namelessly for all eternity.
Standing at the back of the crowd, I watched the Taoist priest in his faded black robe ring his bells and write invisible amuletic words in the air with the tip of his sword. The effigies were then set ablaze, the heat from the flames pushing the crowd back. All around me people wailed and keened as the ashes rose to the sky, leaving behind a charred odour in the air. Perhaps the spirits were appeased, but I felt only a renewed sense of anger when the crowd dispersed.
Knowing that I would not be able to concentrate on my work for the rest of the day, I decided to go to the Selangor Club’s library. I had not seen Magnus in eleven or twelve years, but I recognised him in the foyer – I remembered his eye-patch – and I called out to him. He was with a group of men surrendering their guns to the clerk, and he had looked at me, trying to remember who I was. A smile sprawled over his face when I reminded him, and he insisted on buying a round of drinks. We sat at a table on the verandah overlooking the cricket padang and the court buildings. ‘Boy!’ he called for the waiter – an elderly Chinese – and ordered our drinks. The ceiling fans rattling at full speed above our heads did nothing to dispel the humidity. The clock above the courthouse rang out across the padang . It was three o’clock and the usual crowd of planters and lawyers would not show up for at least another two hours.
Magnus told me he was in KL to get money from the Chartered Bank for his workers’ payroll, which he did once a month. ‘I heard your parents are living in KL now,’ he said. ‘I never thought your father would ever consider leaving Penang. Your mother…’ Magnus had lowered his voice and looked at me intently. ‘How is she?’
‘She has good and bad days,’ I replied. ‘Unfortunately the bad days seem to be happening more often.’
‘I tried to visit her, you know. It was just after you went to England. But your father wouldn’t allow it. I don’t think he lets anyone see her.’
‘It upsets her too much when someone she doesn’t recognise speaks to her,’ I said. ‘And she has trouble recognising most people.’
‘I heard what happened to your sister. Terrible,’ he said. ‘I’ve only met her once. She was keen on gardening, I remember.’
‘She always dreamed of building her own Japanese garden,’ I said.
He studied me, his eye sweeping down to my hands before rising up to my face again.
‘Build it for her.’ His finger stroked the strap of his eye-patch. ‘You could make it a memorial for her. I’m not sure if you remember, but my neighbour’s a Japanese gardener. He was the Emperor’s gardener, would you believe? He might be willing to help you out. You could ask him to make a garden for – Yes, ask Aritomo to design a garden for your sister.’
‘He’s a Jap ,’ I pointed out.
‘Well, if you want a Japanese garden...’ Magnus said. ‘Aritomo wasn’t involved in the war. And if it hadn’t been for him half my workers would have been rounded up and taken down to some mine or worked to death on the Railway.’
‘They’d have to hang their emperor first before I’d ask for help from any of them.’
His stare disconcerted me; it was as though the power of his lost eye had been transferred to his
I thought back to my conversation with Magnus at the bar of the Selangor Club a month before, when I was still a Deputy Public Prosecutor. Returning to my office after I had finished a case, I had cut through one of the narrow lanes behind the courts. Turning a corner, I found my way blocked by a crowd. Men in white singlets and black pants were setting up paper effigies of Japanese soldiers, the life-sized figures shown being disembowelled by the demons of hell. I had heard of these rites, but had never witnessed one. They were held to soothe the spirits of those killed by the Japanese, spirits now wandering namelessly for all eternity.
Standing at the back of the crowd, I watched the Taoist priest in his faded black robe ring his bells and write invisible amuletic words in the air with the tip of his sword. The effigies were then set ablaze, the heat from the flames pushing the crowd back. All around me people wailed and keened as the ashes rose to the sky, leaving behind a charred odour in the air. Perhaps the spirits were appeased, but I felt only a renewed sense of anger when the crowd dispersed.
Knowing that I would not be able to concentrate on my work for the rest of the day, I decided to go to the Selangor Club’s library. I had not seen Magnus in eleven or twelve years, but I recognised him in the foyer – I remembered his eye-patch – and I called out to him. He was with a group of men surrendering their guns to the clerk, and he had looked at me, trying to remember who I was. A smile sprawled over his face when I reminded him, and he insisted on buying a round of drinks. We sat at a table on the verandah overlooking the cricket padang and the court buildings. ‘Boy!’ he called for the waiter – an elderly Chinese – and ordered our drinks. The ceiling fans rattling at full speed above our heads did nothing to dispel the humidity. The clock above the courthouse rang out across the padang . It was three o’clock and the usual crowd of planters and lawyers would not show up for at least another two hours.
Magnus told me he was in KL to get money from the Chartered Bank for his workers’ payroll, which he did once a month. ‘I heard your parents are living in KL now,’ he said. ‘I never thought your father would ever consider leaving Penang. Your mother…’ Magnus had lowered his voice and looked at me intently. ‘How is she?’
‘She has good and bad days,’ I replied. ‘Unfortunately the bad days seem to be happening more often.’
‘I tried to visit her, you know. It was just after you went to England. But your father wouldn’t allow it. I don’t think he lets anyone see her.’
‘It upsets her too much when someone she doesn’t recognise speaks to her,’ I said. ‘And she has trouble recognising most people.’
‘I heard what happened to your sister. Terrible,’ he said. ‘I’ve only met her once. She was keen on gardening, I remember.’
‘She always dreamed of building her own Japanese garden,’ I said.
He studied me, his eye sweeping down to my hands before rising up to my face again.
‘Build it for her.’ His finger stroked the strap of his eye-patch. ‘You could make it a memorial for her. I’m not sure if you remember, but my neighbour’s a Japanese gardener. He was the Emperor’s gardener, would you believe? He might be willing to help you out. You could ask him to make a garden for – Yes, ask Aritomo to design a garden for your sister.’
‘He’s a Jap ,’ I pointed out.
‘Well, if you want a Japanese garden...’ Magnus said. ‘Aritomo wasn’t involved in the war. And if it hadn’t been for him half my workers would have been rounded up and taken down to some mine or worked to death on the Railway.’
‘They’d have to hang their emperor first before I’d ask for help from any of them.’
His stare disconcerted me; it was as though the power of his lost eye had been transferred to his
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