The Night Tiger

“My Chinese name has the same character—Li for Li di ya—as yours. It’s one of the Confucian Virtues,” she says.

Ren comes into the hallway to hand Lydia her hat and parasol. He stares at her, eyes huge in his small face. William thinks feverishly. Play along; he has always been able to manage. There’ll be time enough to deal with her.

“We’ll need more servants after we’re married,” says Lydia, looking appreciatively around the large, empty bungalow.

Over my dead body, thinks William. But he smiles and shows her out.





50

Batu Gajah

Monday, June 29th




Shin’s arm was broken. The right one, as he pointed out with rueful humor. My stepfather had broken the left one, and now it was my turn: a strangely fearful symmetry. I said I was sorry, resting my head briefly against his shoulder after all the uproar was over and we were finally alone. They’d put us into a private room temporarily, though the only serious injury was Shin’s arm and some cuts and bruises.

“You’re very lucky,” said the local doctor who’d examined me. “The other chap broke your fall.”

I fell silent at the mention of Koh Beng. My statement to the police about how he’d tried to kill me, as well as the whole business of selling fingers as good luck charms, made both the hospital and the local police look bad: the hospital for not keeping track of human remains, and the police for failing to prevent an attempted murder right after Y. K. Wong had been killed that very morning. Already, a rumor had conveniently spread that Koh Beng had gone mad and run amok. In the meantime, they’d been especially nice to Shin and me.

“Well, that’s the end of my job,” said Shin, gazing at the cast on his arm.

“Perhaps they’ll let you do something else,” I said.

“Don’t be silly. I can’t write, either, so no desk jobs.”

It didn’t matter. I was filled with gratitude to be sitting here with him, remembering how I’d thought we’d be sundered forever by death. But my joy was tempered with grief. What had happened to Yi? His last words, don’t forget me, struck me as a plaintive echo of his previous lament: I don’t want Ren to forget me. Was he still waiting at that empty station, or had he given up and gone onward, alone? Wherever he was, I prayed he’d find mercy. I owed him a great debt.

I released Shin’s hand guiltily as yet another nurse came in. So many nurses had come by to visit, giggling and perching flirtatiously on his bed. I’d told the police that Shin was my brother, so I could only sit by and smile. It was all right; I was used to this.

“Why won’t you let me set them straight?” Shin said, annoyed, after the last nurse was gone.

“Not now.” We had to think things through. Figure out how to get around our parents first, and not have it spread as gossip. My mother would have a fit when she found out we’d been shoved off a building. A wave of exhaustion rolled over me; the hospital smelled like disinfectant and boiled onions.

“I’ll come and see you tomorrow,” I said, standing up.

He grabbed my hand. “Stay. They offered to keep you tonight for observation.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. And I should tell my mother we’re all right.” The news had probably leaked all over Batu Gajah and possibly even up to Ipoh by now. Besides, the hospital made me deeply uneasy, though I didn’t want to mention this to Shin in case he worried. When I gazed out of the window, I could see the distant roof where Koh Beng had tried to kill me.

“Then I’ll go home with you,” said Shin.



* * *



Of course, they wouldn’t let him go, claiming Shin’s arm needed more X-rays tomorrow morning. They tried to keep me as well, though I demurred. It seemed less about our well-being than an attempt to keep things under control. The medical director had already come by, assuring us that the hospital had only the highest standards and was deeply sorry for the actions of an employee who’d had a nervous breakdown (that would be Koh Beng, I presumed), and we could only nod and promise not to talk about it until the police had cleared things up.

Matron herself came to see me off. Her tanned, angular face was thoughtful as we waited for the car that the hospital had provided to drive me back. “So what are the two of you—siblings or engaged to be married?”

I looked down. “We’re stepsiblings, but we’re not really engaged.”

“Sounds complicated,” she said, not unkindly. “I’ll keep your secret, if you like. Good luck.” She shook my hand. I liked her firm, no-nonsense grip. “You seem like a smart girl, and sensible, too. If you don’t want to rely on a man, we might have space for you.”

I thanked her, wondering why I wasn’t as thrilled as I might have been. Perhaps the hospital had instructed her to offer me a job, to keep things quiet. I was tired. So tired that all I wanted to do was close my eyes, though I was afraid that if I did so, I’d find myself back in that dark river. And this time, there’d be no coming back.



* * *



The next few days were quiet. My mother and stepfather were surprisingly subdued about the whole affair. The hospital had already notified them in the blandest of terms: an unfortunate accident with a mentally disturbed individual. And of course, they would cover all medical fees and pay Shin’s salary for the rest of the summer, though he was excused from duties. Although my mother exclaimed over my cuts, she was relieved that my face wasn’t marked.

“A girl’s face is so important,” she said as she helped change the dressing on my side. “Imagine how upset Robert would be!”

“What does Robert have to do with this?”

I shouldn’t have said that. Her face fell and that timid look appeared. “You’re still friends, aren’t you?”

“As much as we ever were.” Which wasn’t much, but I didn’t have the heart to say so. I looked down, suddenly anxious. “Did you manage to make this month’s payment?”

I hadn’t given her quite enough money to cover the loan, but to my surprise, she said, “You mustn’t worry about that anymore. Your stepfather paid it.”

“All of it?”

She hesitated. “No. Shin gave me some money to help pay it down.” I understood, without her saying a word, that it must have been terrifying to confess even that reduced amount to my stepfather.

“Was he furious?” I stared at her arms, her narrow wrists. She was wearing loose sleeves; I couldn’t tell if there was anything amiss.

“He had a right to be.”

“And? Did he do anything else?” Fury and despair were rising in me, choking my throat.

My mother looked down at the floor. I realized this was deeply humiliating for her. “I begged him. I cried so hard that I fainted.” At my look of horror, she said quickly, “It was actually a good thing. It worried him, coming after the miscarriage. I suppose he realized it wasn’t worth it. And I’m fine.” A grimace. “He made me swear not to touch a mahjong tile again.”

Catching my anxious eye, my mother gave me a warning look. This time, it was none of my business. I supposed that the scare over my mother’s miscarriage might have softened my stepfather up. Made him realize that he might be widowed again. Still, it was a tremendous relief. That debt had been hanging like an anvil over our heads. My mother smiled weakly. “Perhaps I should have told him from the start. I’m sure Robert would be milder about things like that.”

“Mother, does it have to be Robert?”

She must have heard the sadness in my voice, because she stopped fiddling with my bandages and hugged me. “No, it doesn’t. As long as he makes you happy.”

“Really?” My spirits rose. Why had I ever doubted her?

“Does Shin approve?”

“Of who?”

“Of whomever it is you like.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. “Yes, he does.”





51

Batu Gajah

Thursday, July 2nd




Ren watches his master closely after Lydia’s departure. Does his stomach feel better after drinking the medicine? But William goes out to the veranda, tearing at his stiff collar as though he can’t breathe. He sits there, motionless, head in his hands as somewhere out in the dense jungle canopy, a bird sings. It’s a merbuk, a zebra dove whose soft haunting call echoes through the vast green space.

“Tuan, are you sick?”

William turns, face pale and beaded with sweat. He doesn’t look well, but he smiles briefly. “You’re a good boy, Ren. I’ve been thinking: would you like to go to school?”

Surprised by this good fortune, Ren can only blink and stammer. “Yes. But the housework—”

“You needn’t worry about that. We’ll be getting new servants anyway.”

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