by Zen Cho
Of course, the wise also did not tend to become roving contractors.
“I never thought you of all people would be prejudiced,” said Ah Hin reproachfully.
“You’re the one who called her a witch!”
“I didn’t know sister then,” said Ah Hin. “It’s not right to suspect people because of their past. It’s like if we didn’t trust Ah Yee because he used to rob people’s houses.”
“We didn’t trust Ah Yee! He wasn’t allowed to keep watch by himself until he was with us for more than a year.”
“You sound like a mata,” said Ah Hin, ignoring this. “Talking bad about the tokong, saying the orders are conspiring with bandits. Shouldn’t we of all people sympathize with the monks and nuns? We also are misunderstood.”
If Tet Sang hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought Guet Imm had bewitched the group. They all liked her now. Even Ah Boon had got over his pique about the fact that she would only sleep with him if she could castrate him afterwards. Tet Sang wasn’t sure how she’d won him over, until he saw Guet Imm showing Ah Boon some herbs she was drying over a fire.
“Very good for all kinds of things,” she said. “You know when you drink too much beer, the next day your head hurts? This is what you want.”
“You know a lot, sister,” said Ah Boon.
Guet Imm waved off the compliment. “This is nothing much. I’m not to say a real healer like you, brother!”
She looked up, smiling, and caught Tet Sang’s eyes by accident. He glared at her.
She had the grace to look embarrassed. Any properly trained follower of the Pure Moon was bound to know more about the healing arts than Ah Boon. He had been apprenticed to a village healer for only two years before the war broke out.
But then Guet Imm raised her chin and eyebrows, as much as to say, What are you going to do about it? She turned her back on Tet Sang.
Since he did not enjoy being a bringer of ill tidings, Tet Sang decided to keep his own counsel. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to warn the others. He had done his duty to the best of his ability. It was only a matter of time before something happened to make them regret taking her on. But till then, there was little reason for him to pick quarrels with the men on Guet Imm’s account.
His patience was rewarded about as well as forbearance generally is. They were only a few days’ walk from Sungai Tombak when he twisted his ankle on an uneven patch of road.
Ah Boon put a poultice on it and told him to keep walking. Tet Sang would have done this in any event, but the pain slowed him down, and in the course of the day, he drifted to the tail end of the group, where Ah Hin and Guet Imm were usually to be found—whispering like lovers, said the others. But this was teasing, meaning nothing. Even those who still harboured hopes of Guet Imm relaxing her policy on profane intercourse knew that Ah Hin had joined the group out of a hopeless passion for Fung Cheung.
Tet Sang didn’t notice he had fallen behind at first. His attention was on maintaining mastery over his feeble body, which objected stridently to what he was doing. But then he heard his own name.
“I don’t know why Brother Tet Sang hates me,” Guet Imm was saying. “I didn’t do anything to him also. I took his money, but he offered! Maybe I should pay him back. I shouldn’t have bought the wig.”
The wig had been retired from use by general agreement.
“You must give face to Second Brother,” said Ah Hin’s voice. “Usually he’s not like this. He’s worried about getting to Sungai Tombak. We’re late already.”
“But what’s at Sungai Tombak?” said Guet Imm. “Why is it so important to get there?”
“We’re making a delivery.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tet Sang saw Guet Imm nod sagely. “The sacks you all are carrying. Is it candu or bullion or what?”
“If we had candu, Big Brother would have smoked it all up already,” said Ah Hin. “What is bullion?”
Ah Hin was impressed when Guet Imm explained.
“You think too much of us, sister,” he said. “If we were at the level where we could transport bullion, we could all retire! The sacks inside are rice only. Hard to find high-quality rice these days. The merchants in Sungai Tombak will pay a good price for it. But the main delivery is not that.”
Tet Sang cleared his throat, but he was too late. Ah Hin was already saying proudly:
“The main goods are in here!” He gestured at the pack on his back.
Tet Sang swallowed his interruption. If he kicked up a fuss now, that would only serve to make it obvious that there was something about the goods he’d rather Guet Imm didn’t know.
“Really?” said Guet Imm, looking at Ah Hin’s pack with new interest. “What is it?”
“Oh, very valuable goods,” said Ah Hin, shaking his head. “Top secret. We’re taking turns to carry.”
For a gang of outlaws, Tet Sang thought bitterly, the brothers were remarkably trusting. Without even being prodded, Ah Hin went on:
“We’re taking the rice because Big Brother wants a decoy. In case the mata catch us, they will think we are transporting black-market rice only. Hopefully, the Baby God will protect us from a raid,” he added piously. “But even if the mata come and confiscate the rice, that is no problem so long as the real goods are safe.” He patted the pack.
Guet Imm’s eyes were as round as longan seeds. “What are the real goods?”
It seemed to strike Ah Hin for the first time that perhaps he should not be talking so much.
“Oh, ah,” he said uncomfortably. “I shouldn’t say. Big Brother wouldn’t like it.”
“Brother, you will kill me!” said Guet Imm. “I won’t tell. Just a quick peek. You know you can trust me.”
She was reaching out when Tet Sang caught her hand.
“You shouldn’t touch people’s things without asking,” he said. “Didn’t they teach you that at your tokong?”
He kept his eyes on Guet Imm until she lowered her hand.
“There was no such thing as your things or my things at the tokong,” she said, with an attempt at dignity. “The deity calls us to share. Anyway, I asked, didn’t I, Brother Ah Hin?”
“I didn’t hear Ah Hin say yes,” said Tet Sang.
They both looked at Ah Hin. He went a delicate purple.
“Brother didn’t mind, right?” said Guet Imm.
Even Ah Hin must have clocked by now that there was good reason Guet Imm of all people should not find out what they were carrying. He said wretchedly:
“It’s my fault, sister. I shouldn’t simply talk.”
“I wouldn’t give you away,” said Guet Imm, hurt. “It’s not like there’s anybody I could tell also. Everybody I used to know is dead.”
“There’s Mr Aw at Weng Wah Coffeehouse,” said Tet Sang. “You’re here to make yourself useful, sister, not ask questions. If you don’t like the rules, you can go back to the coffeehouse.”
He limped away before either of the others could answer.
Ah Hin followed Tet Sang, silently offering his shoulder. After Tet Sang’s first moment of indignation, he took the offered support. At least it got Ah Hin away from the nun.
“Sorry, Second Brother,” muttered Ah Hin.
Tet Sang grunted.
The ensuing silence was tense, Ah Hin’s shoulders rigid beneath Tet Sang’s arm. He realised Ah Hin was looking for something more than he’d given.
“Don’t worry,” said Tet Sang. “I won’t tell Ah Lau.”
“That’s not why I apologized,” said Ah Hin, affronted. “I know you won’t do me like that, brother!”
Again, Ah Hin was being too trusting. Tet Sang kept the strict word of his promise, but Fung Cheung was not stupid. When Tet Sang said they should keep a closer watch on the goods, Fung Cheung raised an eyebrow.
“You’re scared Ah Hin will give us away?” he said. “I’ve been thinking he’s getting too pious.”
“Excuse me, do I look like a running dog?” said Tet Sang.
&nb
sp; Fung Cheung rolled his eyes, but he asked no more questions.
Nothing was said to Ah Hin, but from then on, only Fung Cheung, Tet Sang, or Rimau—a childhood friend of Fung Cheung’s and married to his sister, now dead—were allowed to bear the goods.
Tet Sang had bad dreams of the past whenever it was his turn, but did not complain. The new arrangement served his purpose. Besides, his capacity for enduring pain was something he had measured to the precise outer edge of its limits.
Sungai Tombak was a mining town strung across a river and surrounded by forested hills. The group set up camp by a waterfall some miles outside the town, while Ah Boon and Ah Wing were sent ahead to make contact with the people waiting for their deliveries.
They returned with good news. All was in order. The next day they would deliver the rice—and the other goods.
It would not be a bad place to off-load the nun as well, thought Tet Sang wistfully. Sungai Tombak was somewhat past its peak, worn down by the depredations of both the banditry and the Protectorate in the long-drawn-out war. But the wave of tin money had not wholly receded and the town was still prosperous. A clever, biddable girl could easily find work with a merchant’s family there. It was true Guet Imm was not especially biddable, but she had enough native cunning to make up for that.
Tet Sang was too busy to raise the idea with her, however. That night, they were all occupied with preparations for the delivery. Guet Imm had to repeat herself before anyone took notice of her.
“I want to come along tomorrow,” she said.
Fung Cheung was inspecting the sacks of rice. He looked up, frowning. “What?”
Guet Imm sat on her heels with her fists on her knees, looking as if she was going to launch into an obeisance at any moment. Her expression was nervous but determined. “I want to go into town.”
“You heard the plan,” said Fung Cheung.
Tet Sang, Rimau and Ah Boon were to bring the rice to a contact on the outskirts of town who ran a sundry shop as a front for her flourishing business trading in black-market products. From there, Tet Sang would go alone with the remaining goods to meet a representative of the buyer in the town centre. The rest of the group would make themselves scarce—visits to gambling dens, brothels, relatives and shrines alike had been banned.
“We’re not here to be tourists,” said Fung Cheung. “I am not going also, even though my Third Great-Aunt will kill me if she finds out I came to Sungai Tombak and didn’t go to see her.”
They’d agreed Fung Cheung was too memorable. There were Tang and Malayu men like Tet Sang, Ah Boon and Rimau in every town on the peninsula. Now that their robes were being washed regularly, they did not even need to source a fresh suit of clothes in order to look like ordinary men. People would look through them—but not Fung Cheung.
“We can’t afford to draw attention to ourselves,” he said.
“I won’t draw attention,” said Guet Imm. “I can wear my wig. Nobody will notice me.”
“Everybody will notice you if you wear your wig,” said Tet Sang. “What do you want to go to town for?”
Guet Imm was good at manipulation and appearing harmless when she was not, but at the end of the day, she was a nun and the product of her early training. Telling outright lies was not her forte.
“I want to buy soap,” she said.
“We don’t need soap,” said Fung Cheung. He jerked his head at the others. “If you make them cleaner some more, they won’t recognise themselves.”
“I’ll stay close to Brother Tet Sang,” said Guet Imm. “I won’t cause any trouble.”
“You’re being troublesome right now,” said Fung Cheung.
Guet Imm looked anxious, but whatever it was that drove her, it wouldn’t let her drop the subject. She opened her mouth.
“What was that ointment you were telling Ah Boon about?” said Tet Sang before she could speak. “Good for joint pain.”
For once, Guet Imm was slow on the uptake. She blinked. “The one to use for massage? It’s called—”
“You forgot the name, sister,” said Ah Boon quickly. “You couldn’t tell me.”
“But you know what the bottle looks like, right?” said Tet Sang.
Their meaning dawned on Guet Imm. “Yes! A brown bottle, with a red chop on the label.”
“What does the chop look like?” said Fung Cheung suspiciously.
But Guet Imm had got her head in the game now. She turned limpid eyes on him. “I don’t remember, brother. It might have been an axe. Or a flower. Or three legs joined together … not sure, but I’ll know the ointment when I smell it. Most herbalists will sell.”
“She might as well come with me,” Tet Sang said to Fung Cheung. “I’m fed up with this ankle pain. She can go shopping while I settle our business.”
It would have been hard to say whether Fung Cheung or Guet Imm was more surprised. Guet Imm was better at hiding it. She pasted her habitual serene smirk on her face.
“You’re the one who’s going,” said Fung Cheung finally. “But how are you going to disguise her?”
“Why does she need a disguise? She’s not on a wanted poster,” said Tet Sang. He looked at Guet Imm. “You aren’t, are you?”
The nun shook her head. “I never broke a law in my life, brother!”
“I doubt that,” said Tet Sang drily. To Fung Cheung he said, “So long as she doesn’t wear the wig, we’ll be okay. There’ll be other monks and nuns on the streets of Sungai Tombak. The only difference is she won’t be begging for money.”
“Okay,” said Fung Cheung.
He glanced at the nun as though he wondered whether she’d put a jampi on Tet Sang. But Guet Imm paid no attention to Fung Cheung. She was gazing at Tet Sang, her brow creased.
* * *
Ah Boon and Rimau were content to wait at the sundry shop where they’d dropped off the rice while Tet Sang went into the town centre to deliver the valuables. Of course, they did not miss the opportunity to lecture Guet Imm hilariously about brothels.
“Make sure you pick a decent one, with clean girls! Don’t let the madam cheat you!”
Tet Sang and Guet Imm left them drinking beer and playing cards with the sundry-shop owner.
For a time, Tet Sang and Guet Imm walked in silence, the nun stealing looks at Tet Sang while he pretended not to notice. They’d set out early that morning, when it was still dark, but now it was getting light, the rising sun turning the sky silver. Acres of rubber plantations and scrub unfolded on both sides of the road. Though the trees were recent arrivals, they might have been there forever—the silence of a much older forest breathed from them.
Guet Imm broke it, saying, “Thank you, brother.”
Tet Sang did not bother feigning incomprehension. “So long as you find the ointment. I’m sick of being pummelled by Ah Boon like I’m a side of beef.”
“He knows what the ointment is called,” said Guet Imm. “I wrote it down for him. Ah Boon is educated—he went to school until twelve years old.”
“I know.”
Guet Imm gave him a sidelong look. “Why did you help me, brother?”
“Herbalists sell rags, right?” said Tet Sang. “You’re going to get in trouble if you keep tearing off parts of your robe.”
Menstruation was subject to no taboos in the Order of the Pure Moon, since it was an affliction most of the devotees shared. No doubt even the deity suffered from her monthly visitations. Guet Imm was more taken aback than embarrassed, and after a moment, even surprise was overtaken by outrage.
“But I was so careful!” she said. “I walked so far every day to find somewhere to wash the rags, so people wouldn’t notice. I thought you all would mind!” She spoke with disgust at the wasted effort. “If I knew you didn’t care, I wouldn’t have tried to hide it. I only did it because I thought you all would be sensitive.”
“Maybe the others would be sensitive. But they haven’t realised,” said Tet Sang. “You were careful.” And the men were not observant when it came
to these matters. Tet Sang knew from experience that they would miss far more obvious symptoms than Guet Imm had displayed. Either she was one of those happy persons whose periods gave them little trouble, or her stoicism over her blistered feet extended to cramps and cold sweats. She had shown no sign of enduring agonies.
Guet Imm eyed him suspiciously. “How did you know?”
“Herbs,” said Tet Sang. “What else would you pick kacip fatimah for?” A new thought struck him. The cut of the votarial robes was very forgiving … “Unless you’re pregnant?”
“No!” said Guet Imm, insulted. “Do I look like a vow-breaker to you, brother?”
“It’s hard to follow the gods’ rules in these times,” said Tet Sang. “Not everybody can manage perfect virtue.”
His tone was mild, but he intended it as a reprimand and Guet Imm took his meaning. She went quiet, but she kept glancing at Tet Sang, until against his better judgment he said:
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” said Guet Imm. Then: “You’re more perceptive than you look, brother.”
Tet Sang grunted. But as he had known would happen, Guet Imm took his question as an open invitation to talk about her feelings.
“All this time, I thought you hated me,” she said.
Tet Sang felt there had been quite enough conversation already. But under the nun’s expectant gaze, the words unspooled from him, almost without his volition. “I don’t give money to people I hate.”
“But you don’t want me around.”
“Sungai Tombak is a nice town,” said Tet Sang. “Have you been here before?”
Guet Imm looked askance at this diversion, but she shook her head. “I haven’t travelled much. My family gave me to the tokong when I was a baby, and after I entered seclusion, of course there was no chance.”
“Seclusion?” Tet Sang had been avoiding eye contact, but he forgot himself and stared. “You were an anchorite?”
