JING-JING WAS DISAPPOINTED. After the long journey, she had expected to be welcomed and made much of by her husband. Instead, she hardly saw him. She blushed with shame. She recalled her loud boasts on board the ship. She had told everyone how she would be feted when her husband saw her. Of course, she reasoned, she had only just arrived. He could not just leave off work and be with her. Still, to go off for one month just one day after her arrival was too much to bear. How could she occupy herself? The house she was left in was just a tiny room, with walls made of woven bamboo strips. The kitchen, bedroom and sitting area were rolled in one. All it had was a wooden bed, with a chamber pot tucked underneath, two wooden chairs and a wood burning stove that served as her kitchen. She looked up at the ceiling. Sunlight streamed through the hastily put together dried thatch that he called attap. A lizard scrambled across a rattan beam as though aware of her scrutiny. Before Cheung left, he had promised that he would mend the roof when he returned. He said he would give it his first priority, smiling sheepishly at the large drops of rain that splattered into the bucket placed strategically below the roof aperture. He explained that he had to work and that her ticket had cost his entire savings. He was not allowed leave; the one day he took was already a compassionate gesture from his boss. He could not ask for more. He must earn if they were to live.
Jing-jing sighed. She could hardly recognise her husband after three years. He had grown so old and troubled as though the whole world’s worries were on his shoulders. She took a broom and stepped out of the hut. Perhaps she could sweep away the debris and dried leaves in their small compound to while away the time. She mustered a smile and hummed a tune to cheer herself up.
She swept, quick deft strokes. Clouds of dust rose. Soon she was covered with it. Her hair, clothes, arms and face were grey with dirt. The jubilance that she tried to muster seeped away. She stopped and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
Someone called. “Heh! Are you new here?”
Startled, Jing-jing jumped. Standing opposite was a woman with a basket of clothes tucked under one arm. Jing-jing had not noticed her presence until she spoke. How had she come into the compound?
“I have not seen you before,” the lady continued, her eyes crunched up tight against the hot sun and a smile on her face. “I am your neighbour. People call me Ah Kum as in the word gold. Huh! I wish. If I was truly kum, I would not be living over there.” She pointed to a group of wooden plank houses beyond a grove of trees some distance away. “I am on my way to the river. A boat is expected any time from Port Klang. It will bring fresh supplies from the coast. Would you like to come? We can draw water for washing from the river. You certainly look as if you need a wash,” she teased.
Jing-jing found herself smiling in response. Cheung, her husband, had warned that she should be careful whom she befriended. “The community here,” he explained, “is a mishmash of people thrown together from all walks of life, some of which are less desirable than others. Just be careful with whom you keep company. If you have a problem, the best thing would be to contact the old retainer in my boss’s household. We all call him uncle, Ah Sook, as a mark of respect. Ask any one. They will know him. He would help you.” Then he had taken her in his arms, giving her little time to air her misgivings.
Jing-jing tossed her head, recalling the way he had held her, reassuring her that she would be fine. It was all well and good except that she could not be expected to keep to herself without anyone to talk to. Shao Peng had promised that she would visit yet had made no contact. It was for the best. She wouldn’t want Shao Peng and the others to know of her present circumstances. She should have kept her mouth shut and not boast during the journey on the ship.
Jing-jing returned her attention to the woman. After a moment’s hesitation, Jing-jing decided that she would make up her own mind as to what was best for herself. She didn’t need Ah Sook to tell her that the woman, Ah Kum, was harmless. “I have some clothes that need washing. I’ll come with you. Wait here! I’ll fetch them,” she said.
To Jing-jing’s chagrin, Ah Kum followed her into the house. She plunked down her basket of clothes on a wooden chair. “You should do something about this place,” she said, pointing to the hole in the roof. “You can have all these fixed easily. It won’t cost much. Come, let’s go and I’ll tell you.”
Jing-jing eyes lit up. Her earlier annoyance at the woman’s audacity disappeared. It would be good if she could make improvements to the place. Cheung would be proud of her. She grinned. At last, she had a chance to prove her worth. She dreamt of the letters she could get Cheung to write home to his mother. She’ll show her mother-in-law; make her eat her words for saying such nasty things about her laziness.
***
Two miles away, across the river Klang, the sparsely scattered ramshackle wooden huts gave way to two-storey terrace brick buildings with tiled roofs. They lined the network of narrow streets that wove and meandered through the town centre. Shao Peng’s house stood apart from these terrace buildings. Fenced off by its own high brick walls, it overlooked a road that linked it to a nearby rice and tapioca mill. The mill was one of the many ventures her father had built during his lifetime. From there, the road joined the main streets of the town centre. As the funeral possession moved slowly out of the gate of the house into the mill compound and then into the main street, it gathered in size. More and more people joined it until it resembled a human throng moving ponderously across the town.
Li Ling watched the procession from the porch. She heard the clashing of the cymbals and the loud wailing that followed it. She stayed on her feet until she could not see any trace of the procession nor hear any of the loud music. The last of the stragglers had gone. All that remained were the white banners and lanterns hung at the top of the gateposts. They swung lazily in the warm breeze saying their own farewell.
She was reluctant to return to the house, reminded still of the servants’ tales of ghosts and spirits that might be lingering within. She sat down on the steps and drew her knees up, resting her chin on them. I’ll wait here, she thought, until Shao Peng returns.
Time passed. The sun moved steadily across the sky. By midday, it shone with such fierce intensity that every corner of the ground was filled with its penetrating heat. The road shimmered, throwing up a haze of warmth that played tricks with her eyes. Hunger gnawed. She stood up and made her way to the back of the house where the kitchen lay. There would be someone in the kitchen, she thought. She shivered despite the warmth. She didn’t want to be in the house alone.
The kitchen was cool and dark. The servants had drawn down the wooden slats in the window. Large vats of water stood by the doorway. Next to them was a row of wooden clogs. She recalled the servants wearing them the previous night when they swept the ground of its litter of ashes left over from burnt effigies and paper money. Now they stood like miniature sleeping sentries on the grey concrete flooring of the kitchen. This was not a part of the house visited by the master and mistress. A servant had explained that to her when she tried to flee to the kitchen earlier in the morning in search of company. “You shouldn’t be here,” she had smirked. Then slyly, she added, “that is, if you are not brought here to work.”
Li Ling took a step over the wooden threshold. She hesitated and then brought her other foot in. She had nowhere to go. She didn’t know if she was brought here to work. In fact, she did not know what her position would be, especially after this morning when she put her foot in it by venturing her personal opinion. She wandered to the table in the middle of the room. A conical woven cover of red, yellow and blue matting was placed in the centre. She lifted it revealing a dish of stewed beef brisket. She gulped. Her stomach grumbled. She had eaten nothing at breakfast. The beef glistened invitingly in its dark sauce.
“Aiyah! Sooi nooi pow! Cursed bun of misfortune! Are you trying to steal food?”
Li Ling turned. Ah Tai, the maid that had shooed her away that morning stood with both hands on her hips. Her lips were drawn tight with disgust.
“If you want to eat, you need only ask. Why steal? Mistress Shao Peng has already left instruction that you were to be fed. Where were you? I went in search of you.” She roughly shoved Li Ling into a chair manhandling her arm. “Sit,” she commanded.
Li Ling could feel a flush of heat that rose from her neck to her cheek. She was ashamed to be so accused, guiltily acknowledging that perhaps she would have taken a piece of meat from the dish if the maid had not come in. The thought made her flush with contrition. Yes, perhaps she would have ‘stolen’ though she had not lifted the cover with that intent. What would her mother say?“
There! Eat!” The maid slammed down a bowl filled with rice and stewed brisket in front of her.
Li Ling hesitated, still smarting from shame, made even more so because she realised that Ah Tai had deliberately slammed down the bowl and manhandled her to show that she was not an important guest.
“What? Not enough? Not good enough for you? Huh!” Ah Tai sneered. “I have a lot of work. I don’t need you around my feet. Eat! There is nothing else. Until Mistress clarifies your position, don’t expect to be served hand and foot.” She ran her eyes insolently over Li Ling, from head to toe and back again. She grumbled, not caring that her grumbling could be heard. “Can’t see why Miss Shao Peng says we are to treat her well. She cannot be of any importance. Look at her clothes! Rags! If she was important, they would have included her in the funeral procession, just like they had included Master Siew Loong’s intended. Why, that girl is as pretty as one would wish any bride to be. And so beautifully turned out as well. Did you see the lace she wore! Those beaded slippers must have cost a fortune.”
“You mean Miss Suet Ping?” asked another woman that had just stepped into the kitchen. Li Ling saw that it was Ah Kew, the other maid in the house. “The engagement is not official, just a wish expressed by big Mistress. She likes her because Miss Suet Ping speaks beautiful Malay and that suits Mistress. No wonder! Her grandmother is a Malay, just like Mistress.” She hurried over and spoke in Ah Tai’s ear, a conspiratorial whisper that was nevertheless loud enough for Li Ling to hear. “It seems that Master Siew Loong does not like being coerced. He wants to choose his own bride. I overheard their heated exchange the other evening. So nothing is fixed.”
Li Ling picked up her bowl and began to eat. All the while though her ears strained to hear. She was shocked to learn that the handsome young Master was betrothed. For some unknown reason, it made her sad.
Ah Kew’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She cast a malicious glance at Li Ling. “Aiyah! That girl over there, the one Miss Shao Peng brought back. I thought for a moment she was someone of importance, especially when she breakfasted with her. But, it cannot be. Look! They left her out of the family procession.”
Li Ling’s cheeks turned bright red. She shuffled the rice into her mouth and pretended not to hear. The maids giggled. “Cho loh! No manners! Who would want her as bride?” They nudged each other.
***
Back across the other side of town, the riverbank was busy. Jing- jing stood enthralled drinking in the sounds, the smell and the colours of her surroundings. Stalls with fruits and vegetables stood next to those selling cloth. Cooking utensils were laid out cheek by jowl with chamber pots and wooden stools. Wired cages with live chickens stood next to baskets filled with fish, their eyes glazed with death. The previous night’s heavy rainfall had transformed the rough tracks along the bank into a field of mud. Jing-jing’s feet sunk deep with each step. She was oblivious. The people and the noise exhilarated her.
Ah Kum tapped her on the shoulder. “Here, look over there where the two rivers meet. One river is called Gombak and the other Klang.” She hustled Jing-jing forward and pointed to a group of rough attap houses. “Huts for the Kapitan’s coolies,” she explained. “He is our headman. See there,” she gesticulated to a large wooden shed adjacent to the medley of huts, “a gambling and opium den.” A group of men wandered out of the shed to leer at them. “Watch out!” She giggled, her eyes coy with delight. “Many of them come to our house, preferring it to the shacks around this part of the town.” Ah Kum stole a surreptitious glance at her young companion.
Jing-jing didn’t quite grasp the meaning. Thrilled with the buzz of activity, she was too busy taking it all in. She had dreaded being confined to her hut with no friends. Surely she could find a friend here. She looked around. Her heart fell. There were not many women around, just a few with long braided hair buying food. She knew of them, having met some on the ship; mah-cheh women who had braved the journey from China to flee from bullying mothers-in-law or husbands; women who had sworn a life of celibacy and loyalty to their domestic work for pay. “I could have been one of those if I was not careful,” she said to Ah Kum. “It would be awful.”
“Yes, you mustn’t even think of it. You are so pretty, too pretty to be tucked away in the kitchen. Come, come away!” She pointed to a pile of cloths stacked high on a rough wooden platform. “This, when made into a tunic, would suit you and make you even more beautiful.”
“No! I can’t afford it,” said Jing-jing looking at the material wistfully.
“What about this?” Ah Kum flashed a little mirror she found amongst a heap of assorted goods in another stall. “You need a mirror to comb your hair at least.”
“No, nothing. I don’t have any money at all.”
“Aiyah! How can he leave you on your own without any money? I am sorry to ask. What kind of husband is he?” Kum looked pityingly at Jing-jing.
“I have some money; it is enough just for food.”
“Huh! In that case, we might as well just go. No point staying here if you have no money.” Ah Kum whirled abruptly from Jing-jing and walked away. At intervals she turned to throw sharp accusing glances at her young friend, her face a picture of indignation. Jing-jing followed crestfallen, her earlier jubilation completely vanished.