his wall round you, you must stay absolutely motionless. Even if,” she couldn’t resist needling Ghost Grandmother, “it is dark.”
“That will do, bad girl!”
“He will then realise that you have seen his trickery, and leave from boredom.”
“Good! What then?”
“Put your face in your hands for a count of your lucky number. The ghost and its wall, will be gone. You are free!”
“Excellent! And the danger of the Wall-Building Ghost?”
“He may build the wall so it grows taller than you.”
“And then?”
“Then he lives inside with you for ever. You may choose to do a thing – go to the pictures, eat, make love, change your job – but you will never know if he is controlling you.”
“For how long?” Ghost Grandmother cooed sweetly.It was a trick.
“For life, Grandmother.”
“That is true,” Ghost said, losing interest because KwayFay was right to the last detail. “Do you know anybody who has fallen prey to Wall-Builder? I never did.”
“Yes, Grandmother. A policeman. He wears red collar tags to show he is fluent in English, and white gloves, in the point-duty pagoda at Queens Road West – you know where it goes up to Belchers Road? – who is in a wall made by Wall-Building Ghost. The policeman knows, which is why he is so sad.”
“
Waaaiii!
Any more?”
“One of the teachers in Tsuen Wan, Grandmother.”
“So Wall-Building Ghost has snared a teacher, has he?” Ghost chuckled, coughed once and came to. “I like that! You do well, Granddaughter.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.”
“Next, learn the Bun Festival of Cheung Chau, the Moon Festival, New Year customs, and the God of Wealth.”
“All those?” KwayFay wailed.
“All,” Ghost Grandmother said firmly. “How else will you learn, lazy girl?”
“Please, Grandmother!” KwayFay called, suddenly not wanting the lesson to end, for she was in trouble. “Can I ask about choosing?”
“The Water Mirror is for choosing. Have you forgotten so soon?”
“No! No!”
“Then what?”
KwayFay knew Ghost was just prolonging her agonyfrom devilment.
“I am in serious trouble.”
“What have you done, bad girl?”
“I am compelled to make choices for powerful men.”
“What choice?” Ghost asked with relish, for ghosts love choices even though they don’t often get to do the choosing.
“Among girls, and one yes-no for a man.”
“How many? Apples, lemons, pears? What?”
“The men did not say.”
“Then there is only one course, KwayFay. You must ask.”
“Ask what? Who?”
“Ask questions, and pay no heed to any of the answers. You will then say right choice. You understand ?”
“No, Grandmother,” KwayFay bleated.
Ghost Grandmother had gone, and KwayFay slept.
When she woke it was already daylight. She had to scurry to find her clothes and go to the toilet – a hole in the ground, like in mainland China, the refuse dribbling down into a night-soil pit that stank. She had enough water to wash with, and this time made it go all over, armpits, breasts, waist, crutch and finally feet, before dressing in her go-to-work clothes. She had got nothing ready for the morning like a stupid girl, and she felt worn out. She thought of doing her make-up at the 5B bus stop but instead managed a hasty patch job. She started to pull her piece of corrugated iron across the gap, then paused.
She noticed something strange.
Beside the door was the fragment of mirror shealways kept by her ramshackle bed. It was near her Kitchen God and was tilted as if placed there for her to notice. She was careful about glass, for a cut meant you might be late and suffer one of HC’s punitive fines. Last time she’d been really late – no fault of her own; a Typhoon Signal Three hoisted at Little Green Island stemming traffic in Kennedy Town – he’d fined her half a day’s wage. She’d had to give Chao from Ice House Street, who was no more than a messenger, a maul the following Monday so he would pay her squeeze to
“That will do, bad girl!”
“He will then realise that you have seen his trickery, and leave from boredom.”
“Good! What then?”
“Put your face in your hands for a count of your lucky number. The ghost and its wall, will be gone. You are free!”
“Excellent! And the danger of the Wall-Building Ghost?”
“He may build the wall so it grows taller than you.”
“And then?”
“Then he lives inside with you for ever. You may choose to do a thing – go to the pictures, eat, make love, change your job – but you will never know if he is controlling you.”
“For how long?” Ghost Grandmother cooed sweetly.It was a trick.
“For life, Grandmother.”
“That is true,” Ghost said, losing interest because KwayFay was right to the last detail. “Do you know anybody who has fallen prey to Wall-Builder? I never did.”
“Yes, Grandmother. A policeman. He wears red collar tags to show he is fluent in English, and white gloves, in the point-duty pagoda at Queens Road West – you know where it goes up to Belchers Road? – who is in a wall made by Wall-Building Ghost. The policeman knows, which is why he is so sad.”
“
Waaaiii!
Any more?”
“One of the teachers in Tsuen Wan, Grandmother.”
“So Wall-Building Ghost has snared a teacher, has he?” Ghost chuckled, coughed once and came to. “I like that! You do well, Granddaughter.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.”
“Next, learn the Bun Festival of Cheung Chau, the Moon Festival, New Year customs, and the God of Wealth.”
“All those?” KwayFay wailed.
“All,” Ghost Grandmother said firmly. “How else will you learn, lazy girl?”
“Please, Grandmother!” KwayFay called, suddenly not wanting the lesson to end, for she was in trouble. “Can I ask about choosing?”
“The Water Mirror is for choosing. Have you forgotten so soon?”
“No! No!”
“Then what?”
KwayFay knew Ghost was just prolonging her agonyfrom devilment.
“I am in serious trouble.”
“What have you done, bad girl?”
“I am compelled to make choices for powerful men.”
“What choice?” Ghost asked with relish, for ghosts love choices even though they don’t often get to do the choosing.
“Among girls, and one yes-no for a man.”
“How many? Apples, lemons, pears? What?”
“The men did not say.”
“Then there is only one course, KwayFay. You must ask.”
“Ask what? Who?”
“Ask questions, and pay no heed to any of the answers. You will then say right choice. You understand ?”
“No, Grandmother,” KwayFay bleated.
Ghost Grandmother had gone, and KwayFay slept.
When she woke it was already daylight. She had to scurry to find her clothes and go to the toilet – a hole in the ground, like in mainland China, the refuse dribbling down into a night-soil pit that stank. She had enough water to wash with, and this time made it go all over, armpits, breasts, waist, crutch and finally feet, before dressing in her go-to-work clothes. She had got nothing ready for the morning like a stupid girl, and she felt worn out. She thought of doing her make-up at the 5B bus stop but instead managed a hasty patch job. She started to pull her piece of corrugated iron across the gap, then paused.
She noticed something strange.
Beside the door was the fragment of mirror shealways kept by her ramshackle bed. It was near her Kitchen God and was tilted as if placed there for her to notice. She was careful about glass, for a cut meant you might be late and suffer one of HC’s punitive fines. Last time she’d been really late – no fault of her own; a Typhoon Signal Three hoisted at Little Green Island stemming traffic in Kennedy Town – he’d fined her half a day’s wage. She’d had to give Chao from Ice House Street, who was no more than a messenger, a maul the following Monday so he would pay her squeeze to
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