rice water she would use as a drink later, and then be set for the evening. She would think her way through the impossible hazards HC had placed her in. It would then be time for bed and sleep.
To pick the best of girls…for what? Who? She must simply guess two answers, and be right. Was it to do with money? Bets on an English horse race, that drove the young Hong Kong men crazy with dreams of wealth so they stared at TV screens in Causeway Bay all night long? She was so tired. Hers was not much of a life.
Dully she sat in her shack and watched the rice pan.Her mind was empty except for wraiths, each as amorphous as mists that faded from the East Lamma Channel before the dawn sun became hot. She was so tired. She thought of Seng, Alice’s brother. He might possibly lend her some money to escape to Taiwan. Except the Triads knew everything. They would stop her at the airport . She could go down to the Taiwan ship and try to slip aboard, but the Taipei authorities recorded everyone from Hong Kong, being in the grip of the Kuomintang. You might be a suspicious right-wing political Koumintang character, or communist from China mainland .
Her chopsticks were easily cleaned of ghekko dust. She did this in a little hot water from the rice dipped out on her spoon, and felt her food. Ready.
Wearily she ate, wondering what to do. Barely ten o’clock yet she decided to go to bed. It would not do to be late tomorrow, with this problem hanging over her head. She needed to see what HC was going to do, ask, reveal, beg. Her ghekko chuckled and scurried up the shack wall.
It didn’t remind her of Seng, because he did nothing useful. At least the ghekko caught flies.
“Wake up, lazy girl!”
“I am awake, Grandmother.”
“Awake?” Ghost Grandmother shrieked in her grating voice. “They hear you snoring in Hay Ling Chau!”
KwayFay shivered, trying to pull up her one blanket over her at the sudden mention of the Isle of Happy Healing, so beloved now of western tourists. They didn’t know the place was the colony’s original leper island,shunned even by the Japanese during the War, though its festivals had now returned, to please tourists for money.
“Tonight, snoring girl, I am restful.” Silence, then accusingly, “Your water stolen today!”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
“No cat walked to your door today, then!”
“I said that to myself when I realised,” KwayFay said miserably.
“Or a hen sat on your roof. That brings bad luck.”
“What must I tell you tonight, Grandmother?” Get it over with, and sleep.
“Why do you go in the
cheh
, the car of that fool man?”
Which KwayFay thought a bit much, for Alice’s brother after all found KwayFay very desirable. Better not argue.
“I do not like to come down Mount Davis Road, Grandmother.”
“Why not?”
KwayFay was sure Ghost Grandmother was laughing. She didn’t dare become petulant.
Now she truly was laughing. KwayFay could hear her wheezing.
“The Wall-Building Ghost is there.”
“Old Cantonese name, as is proper?”
To the scathing rebuke KwayFay muttered, “
Kuei Tang Chiang
, Grandmother, but – this one doesn’t build only at night. It’s there at dusk, sometimes even in broad daylight!”
KwayFay heard Ghost’s sharp intake of breath. “How sly! That is unfair and cunning! You did well to see that trick.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.” KwayFay thought proudly, see? Grandmothers don’t know everything.
“Tell me how you escape, timid girl.”
KwayFay carefully marshalled her thoughts, because ghosts have fantastic hearing, among other things.
“When walking along a road, you know a Wall-Building Ghost is suddenly with you. Usually,” she added pointedly, “at night, but not always.”
“How?” Ghost Grandmother cried, serious now.
“The suspicion that he is there means that he is, Grandmother.”
“True! It is the only time he plays fair.”
“You must stop. Sit right down. Even if he has only just begun building
To pick the best of girls…for what? Who? She must simply guess two answers, and be right. Was it to do with money? Bets on an English horse race, that drove the young Hong Kong men crazy with dreams of wealth so they stared at TV screens in Causeway Bay all night long? She was so tired. Hers was not much of a life.
Dully she sat in her shack and watched the rice pan.Her mind was empty except for wraiths, each as amorphous as mists that faded from the East Lamma Channel before the dawn sun became hot. She was so tired. She thought of Seng, Alice’s brother. He might possibly lend her some money to escape to Taiwan. Except the Triads knew everything. They would stop her at the airport . She could go down to the Taiwan ship and try to slip aboard, but the Taipei authorities recorded everyone from Hong Kong, being in the grip of the Kuomintang. You might be a suspicious right-wing political Koumintang character, or communist from China mainland .
Her chopsticks were easily cleaned of ghekko dust. She did this in a little hot water from the rice dipped out on her spoon, and felt her food. Ready.
Wearily she ate, wondering what to do. Barely ten o’clock yet she decided to go to bed. It would not do to be late tomorrow, with this problem hanging over her head. She needed to see what HC was going to do, ask, reveal, beg. Her ghekko chuckled and scurried up the shack wall.
It didn’t remind her of Seng, because he did nothing useful. At least the ghekko caught flies.
“Wake up, lazy girl!”
“I am awake, Grandmother.”
“Awake?” Ghost Grandmother shrieked in her grating voice. “They hear you snoring in Hay Ling Chau!”
KwayFay shivered, trying to pull up her one blanket over her at the sudden mention of the Isle of Happy Healing, so beloved now of western tourists. They didn’t know the place was the colony’s original leper island,shunned even by the Japanese during the War, though its festivals had now returned, to please tourists for money.
“Tonight, snoring girl, I am restful.” Silence, then accusingly, “Your water stolen today!”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
“No cat walked to your door today, then!”
“I said that to myself when I realised,” KwayFay said miserably.
“Or a hen sat on your roof. That brings bad luck.”
“What must I tell you tonight, Grandmother?” Get it over with, and sleep.
“Why do you go in the
cheh
, the car of that fool man?”
Which KwayFay thought a bit much, for Alice’s brother after all found KwayFay very desirable. Better not argue.
“I do not like to come down Mount Davis Road, Grandmother.”
“Why not?”
KwayFay was sure Ghost Grandmother was laughing. She didn’t dare become petulant.
Now she truly was laughing. KwayFay could hear her wheezing.
“The Wall-Building Ghost is there.”
“Old Cantonese name, as is proper?”
To the scathing rebuke KwayFay muttered, “
Kuei Tang Chiang
, Grandmother, but – this one doesn’t build only at night. It’s there at dusk, sometimes even in broad daylight!”
KwayFay heard Ghost’s sharp intake of breath. “How sly! That is unfair and cunning! You did well to see that trick.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.” KwayFay thought proudly, see? Grandmothers don’t know everything.
“Tell me how you escape, timid girl.”
KwayFay carefully marshalled her thoughts, because ghosts have fantastic hearing, among other things.
“When walking along a road, you know a Wall-Building Ghost is suddenly with you. Usually,” she added pointedly, “at night, but not always.”
“How?” Ghost Grandmother cried, serious now.
“The suspicion that he is there means that he is, Grandmother.”
“True! It is the only time he plays fair.”
“You must stop. Sit right down. Even if he has only just begun building
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