A Ghost in my Suitcase

by Gabrielle Wang

I’m trying to squash everything into my suitcase, which, funnily enough, seems to have shrunk. Ting Ting lies on my bed, propped up on one elbow, the rainbow scarf wrapped around her head like a turban.

  ‘It’s a pity we didn’t have time to play another game of weiqi,’ she says. ‘I can beat you, you know.’

  ‘Well, you had your chance,’ I say, trying to stuff my jacket into my backpack. Something crackles in the pocket.

  ‘It wasn’t fair the last time. I wasn’t feeling too well,’ Ting Ting says, drawing imaginary circles on the floor.

  I grin and start emptying my jacket pockets. I’m like a walking rubbish bin. There are lolly wrappers, half an HB pencil with teeth marks, a piece of old chewing gum stuck to the lining, new and used tissues, watermelon seeds … and a letter, the one I found in the strongbox. I had forgotten all about it. It looks really important with its official red stamp, but I can’t read the Chinese characters. I wonder if it’s the letter Shen Da Pai wrote about his plans to put Por Por’s father in jail?

  ‘I’ll just be a minute,’ I say to Ting Ting and rush out to the pond where Por Por is feeding the ghost fish.

  ‘I’m sorry, Por Por, but I forgot to give you this,’ I say. ‘It’s a letter I found in the strongbox when I was looking for Ting Ting’s talisman necklace.’

  While Por Por reads the letter, I look into the water. Ting Ting has made up names for each one of the ghost fish and I nearly know them all off by heart. There’s Long Scar, Whiteface, Bully and Passionfruit Jelly. And of course I will never forget Big Mouth, the fish that splashed me on the very first day. He stares at me and opens his mouth wide as if he’s going to say something. Then he closes it again. I stand well back as he darts away.

  ‘At last,’ Por Por says, leaning against the holey rock, a sad smile on her face. ‘It’s Shen Da Pai’s letter detailing his plans to put my father in jail. This is proof that my father was innocent.’

  I link my arm through hers and we stand quietly together in the pebbled courtyard as a soft breeze plays through the glass wind-chimes.

  My suitcase is standing by the front gates. The taxi driver is vrooming the engine impatiently. I hope it’s not the same crazy driver we had when I arrived.

  ‘LAI LE! LAI LE! We’re coming!’ Por Por calls out.

  At the airport, Ting Ting and I hug as if we’ve known each other for ages. She really does feel like my big sister.

  ‘I’ll miss you, Ting Ting,’ I say.

  She looks away. ‘I’ll miss you, too.’

  ‘Maybe you can visit me in Australia one day. It would be great showing you around.’

  ‘And we can catch a few ghosts just for fun.’ She smiles.

  Then Por Por holds my hand and strokes my cheek. ‘I’ll come and visit soon,’ she says. ‘You need more training if you are to become a true ghost-hunter.’

  We all have tears in our eyes as I head towards the security doors. I turn to wave, and, like a knife separating my world from theirs, the sliding doors close. But I feel it more than ever now – that invisible silk thread binding the three of us together.

  While I sit on the aeroplane waiting for it to take off, I imagine Por Por and Ting Ting in the taxi, driving down the little alleyways back home. I see them going in through the red gates, past the ghost-fish pond and the holey rock, taking off their shoes and stepping onto the white crane rug.

  I have learnt so much. And my world has been filled with Por Por’s love. For the first time in my life I know who I am. I feel as if I have a lifeline that stretches across the length of Australia, over the sea, all the way to the Isle of Clouds where Por Por, Ting Ting and Mama are. And I feel strong inside.

  I unzip my backpack and run my fingers over the mingshen mirror Por Por gave me. She has wrapped it in red velvet cloth for protection. Next to the mirror is my lightning stick – the one she carved from an old apple tree.

  And there’s something else in my backpack, something I hadn’t seen before. It’s a parcel wrapped in blue tissue paper.

  There’s a card:

  To the best ghost-hunter and weiqi player.

  I will miss you.

  Ting Ting

  I smile as I unwrap the present. Inside a small, green embroidered box is a beautiful talisman necklace suspended on a silver chain. It is carved from a pure white river stone. I touch its surface. I feel its silky smoothness. My fingertips tingle.

  Engraved on one side are protective talisman symbols that seem to float in a milky sea. I turn the necklace over.

  There, flying through swirling clouds, is a graceful white crane soaring into the heavens.