A Superior Man Read Online Free

paid, and bolted.
    All my money was marked for China. It was clear as rainwater in a barrel: I needed to buy gifts, after bragging too much to Grandfather about my success in hawking boat tickets. My years away had let ugly rumours fester in the village. Only lavish gifts and loud talk could restore the family honour. Cascades of shiny copper coins, scattered like fistfuls of chicken feed, would brighten Grandmother’s lifelong gloom.
    Heading to Uncle See’s store, I cursed Mary. How dare she suddenly appear like this? I needed to dig up my caches of money and go demand payment of debts. Some borrowers would show a short memory while mine proved very long. Yes, I would prop my feet on the table and gloat over friends snared in Gold Mountain shit. I debated seeing Rainbow one last time, as well as the strutting need to buy her a farewell gift. If only I had fled the teahouse as soon as Mary had appeared. She wasn’t the first woman to come chasing after the father of her child. At those times, even I had joined the lively taunting.
    â€œGo wed a long-sighted girl. She won’t see the boy’s face.”
    â€œLet the mix-blood one grow a pigtail and learn Chinese. But will he eat stinky tofu?”
    â€œ Falling leaves land on the roots .”
    After the railway, I had gone to a town where redbeard and Native women sold their bodies to men. Not Mary. She kept house for a railway engineer and his family in a neat little cottage. Her hands got callused from chopping wood and washing clothes. Her employer, an oddly thoughtful fellow, told her to take the household linens to the laundry. The first time she lit up the dowdy wash-house, my boss had caught me eyeing her and warned me not to meddle.
    On reaching Uncle See’s, I slumped into a dark corner of the loft and fumbled under the cot for his opium pipes. The lamp was easy to light, but my hand shook while mounting the sticky black drug. Finally I stretched out, raised myself on one arm, and set the pipe over the lamp. Sweet fumes floated me into dreams and scenes where each moment was pleasing. The pain and shame from the vermin’s beating and kicking eased as my mind and face loosened.
    I’m with Mary, on a Sunday morning while her boss’s family attends church. She puts away a huge breakfast to be re-served as the midday meal. I nibble at smoked fish and fried meats, kidneys, and pork chops. Eyeing the cutlery on the white cloth, I ponder which piece to steal.
    We enter her tiny room and close the door. She giggles at the speed at which I strip off my clothes, the thrust of my eagerness. My lips press her ears and neck. She flings a ruffled underskirt at me and flees. I chase her, my cock a flagpole. Laughing, she dashesto the dining room and keeps me at bay across the table. She dodges each time I dart to one side. We knock over a chair. In the big bedroom, we land on the bed’s satiny covers. We stand and stare at the mirror. We’re brother and sister with our tan skin and dark hair. We’re man and wife, mulling over our bridal bed and the number of children yet to spill forth.
    We hear the front door slam and then the voices of the engineer and his wife. They’re bickering. We rush to Mary’s room. I duck under the bed, and she leaps into the blankets. The lady of the house comes to summon her. I poke out my head to watch Mary dress. After a while, I leave by the back door when the family is busy eating. On my next visit, Mary pulls me under her bed onto a blanket. Our bodies twist on the hard floor.
    Dusk was falling when I went down to Uncle See’s storefront. The cat scampered away from me, mewling. The boarders loitered on the sidewalk, bent over water pipes and pails of bubbling water. Boxes of vegetables were laid out for men returning from farms and brickyards. A stray dog crept close to the entrance.
    â€œYang Hok!” someone called. “Where did you run to? Your landlord nailed planks over