Black Water Sister

by Zen Cho

  The medium’s face frowned, but the thing inside him said, “OK. But don’t talk too long. All these people are waiting.” It gestured at AirAsia and the other devotees, who were gaping at Jess. Jess gave them a weak smile.

  The medium slumped suddenly.

  Help him! said Ah Ma.

  Jess managed to catch the man before he fell. His chin hit his chest, his arms going slack. The polo shirts took over from her, taking the flag and sword from the medium’s limp hands.

  “Is he OK?” said Jess tentatively.

  She had the impression the polo shirts weren’t too pleased with the interruption to the proceedings, but they didn’t say anything, only glanced at her briefly before looking away. It took Jess a moment to register that they were afraid of her.

  She was still processing this when the medium opened his eyes, raising his head. He blinked and looked around as though he was surprised to find himself where he was.

  “What happened? Where did the god go?” he said to the polo shirts.

  Then he saw Jess. His eyes widened.

  “Ah Min?” he said.

  There was a reason the man had looked so familiar, Jess realized. She had seen the way he turned his head innumerable times before. It was the same way Mom did it. Which made sense, because he was Mom’s brother.

  “Ah Ku,” she said.

  SIX

  Ah Ku led Jess deeper into the garden, away from the crowd.

  As they went, Jess glimpsed the statuette of a goddess, lurking in one of the shrines under the bodhi tree. The statuette was of coarse make, the details nearly effaced by time and weather, but it was draped in yellow satin, like an empress. Some of the face could still be made out—thin eyebrows curving over staring, expressionless eyes, a narrow unsmiling mouth. It seemed to be looking directly at Jess.

  A shiver ran over her skin. She turned away, unnerved.

  “Ask everybody to wait first,” Ah Ku had told the guys in the polo shirts, who appeared to be his assistants. “This is my niece from America. I must talk to her.”

  “It’s almost seven p.m. already,” one of the polo shirts objected. “The devotees will complain.”

  “If they want to complain, ask them to complain to the god,” said Ah Ku. “He’s the one who wants me to talk to my niece. If not, he wouldn’t have gone off.”

  “The god told the girl not to talk too long,” said the polo shirt. “Relatives can come to your house what.”

  But he muttered this last part under his breath. Ah Ku ignored him.

  “Come, girl,” he told Jess.

  She followed her uncle past altars veiled with greenery, then across a bridge arching over a brown pond full of terrapins.

  There was a ramshackle structure at the back of the garden—a zinc roof on metal poles, with fluorescent light bulbs strapped to the ceiling. It housed a jumble of old altar tables, candles and other prayer goods, chairs and—for some reason—a mini fridge and a shelving unit piled with snacks. Ah Ku pulled out a red plastic chair for Jess and gave her a carton of chrysanthemum tea.

  As Jess struggled to get the straw out of its plastic wrapping, he sat down, lighting a cigarette.

  Jess could see why his assistants had been worried. Her uncle had the air of someone settling in for a while.

  “Long time haven’t seen you,” he said. “Last time your mother brought you to visit Ah Ku was when? Eleven, twelve years ago? That time you were a small girl only.”

  Jess vaguely remembered the visit. Wriggling on a pleather sofa, sticky from the heat, while next to her Mom unsmilingly declined all the food, drink and friendliness Ah Ku offered. On their way out to the car, Ah Ku had asked Mom for money.

  “How did you know it was me?” said Jess.

  “Oh, Ah Yen showed me your photo on Facebook,” said Ah Ku.

  Jess had forgotten she was Facebook friends with her cousin. Yew Yen mostly posted Chinese memes Jess didn’t understand.

  “Who knew you’ll be so pretty when you grow up?” Ah Ku marveled. “Last time you’re so fat and speccy. Got boyfriend ah?”

  Ask him what’s happening with the developers, hissed Ah Ma. What has that bastard been doing?

  Jess was still jumpy from the encounter with whatever it was that had been inside her uncle. Maybe she’d only thought she had seen it, just as she’d half imagined a flash of intelligence in the eyes of the statuette under the tree.

  On the other hand, she was in a garden temple overrun by wilderness, watching night advance across the sky, because the voice of her deceased grandmother had sent her there. The sooner she did what she had to do and got out, the better.

  “No boyfriend yet,” said Jess. “Listen, Ah Ku—”

  “You’ve been in Penang for how long?” said Ah Ku. He showed no surprise when Jess told him it had been a couple of weeks, though the fact this was the first time they were seeing each other was somewhat awkward. “Staying with your father’s relatives, is it?”

  It struck Jess that Mom might not want Ah Ku to know where they were staying. She didn’t even know if Mom had been in touch since they’d arrived in Malaysia.

  The pause had gone on for too long.

  “Your mother is sensitive, is it?” said Ah Ku. “Don’t worry, I won’t go and bother her. Hai, if she hasn’t invited me to her house, you think I don’t know what that means?

  “I am not angry,” he added reassuringly. “You don’t know Ah Ku. I am very cincai. Ah Ma was different. She wasn’t happy your mother didn’t give her face. I told Ah Ma, aiyah, Ah Chee married already, she belongs to the husband’s family now. She doesn’t have time to come and layan you. She must look after her husband’s family, isn’t it?”

  Where got she looked after your father’s family? Your mother, she looks after herself only, said Ah Ma. Ask Ah Ku about the temple.

  “Do you work here, Ah Ku?” said Jess. She’d had an idea that Ah Ku ran his own garage, but he could have moved on without telling her mom. Clearly the communication between the siblings wasn’t great.

  “Work here?” Ah Ku seemed surprised by the question. “No, I do business. Fixing people’s cars. You came to my shop what, when you were small. You don’t remember?”

  “I remember the shop,” said Jess. “But I thought, from what you were doing back there . . .”

  “I’m the chairman of the temple committee,” said Ah Ku.

  The article about the temple had quoted a Barry Lim, Jess remembered. Lim was Mom’s surname, but it was so common in Malaysia that the name hadn’t pinged her when she’d read the article. She’d never heard Mom refer to Ah Ku as anything but Ah Soon, short for Beng Soon, but people often adopted English names in addition to their Chinese names.

  “But this is not work,” continued her uncle. “All this”—his gesture took in the garden, its altars and the devotees waiting for the stalled ceremony to continue—“is to help people. People come here to ask advice from the gods.”

  He was a hundred percent serious, as serious as AirAsia had been when he told Jess her uncle was the God of War.

  Jess wasn’t sure how to react. Fortunately, Ah Ku didn’t wait for a response.

  “Medium’s job is to save the world,” he went on. “I don’t do it for reward. You think the devotees give big angpow? It’s hardly enough to cover the costs of maintenance. Some more you are my niece. Don’t need to worry. Tell Ah Ku what you want. I will sure ask the god to help you.”

  Jess realized he thought she’d come to pray for a blessing, like the men and women waiting to consult the god.

  “No, uh,” she said, embarrassed. “Thanks, Ah Ku, but I didn’t come to ask for anything. I want to know what’s happening to this place.”

  Ah Ku’s forehead furrowed. “What’s happening?”

  Ask about Ng Chee Hin, said Ah Ma. Ah Ku got all Ds and Es in his exams. He doesn’t
understand hidden meanings.

  “I heard some developers wanted to demolish the temple?” prompted Jess. “Ng Chee Hin’s company was involved?”

  The name had a galvanizing effect. Ah Ku had been relaxed and friendly, about to tip another cigarette out of the packet. He jerked upright as though Jess had pricked him with a pin, slamming the cigarette packet on the table.

  “That useless bastard!” he shouted. “How did you hear about him?”

  “There was an article in The Star,” said Jess. “It said his company was trying to take over this land, get rid of the temple. But it was from a while ago. I couldn’t find anything else on the story.”

  “You found the article on the internet, is it? That was a long time ago already.” Ah Ku calmed down. “They reported one time only, in The Star and Sin Chew. After that, the newspapers didn’t want to print anymore. We made a lot of noise, you know! But after that bastard talked to all his big friends, they didn’t want to listen already.”

  “But what happened?” said Jess. “Are they getting the land, or . . . ?”

  “So long as I’m here, that bastard doesn’t need to think about touching the temple,” said Ah Ku. “The newspapers may be scared of him, but we don’t care. The gods are on our side!”

  This boy is talking bullshit, said Ah Ma. Ask him what’s really happening. They said they were going to sue the temple, ask the judge to kick us out. Did they win?

  “What happened to the lawsuit?” said Jess.

  “We’re fighting them,” said Ah Ku. “The lawyer says now must wait for the judgment. Until then, the developers cannot do anything. If they want to build, they have to build around the temple.” He narrowed his eyes. “How did you know about the court case? When they sued us, we told everybody also no use. They didn’t want to write about it.”

  Jess hesitated.

  Ah Ma said, You’re being shy for what? Say Ah Ma told you.

  But you’re dead, said Jess.

  Ah Ku is a medium, said Ah Ma. When you came, he was dancing Kuan Kong. This gods and spirits business, nobody is more used to it than him. You tell him and see.

  “Um,” said Jess. “Ah Ma told me about the case. She’s, uh—” Jess caught herself before she said “haunting.” “She’s been talking to me.”

  Ah Ku’s eyes widened. “Ah Ma is here?” He looked at Jess with new respect.

  Ah Ma was right, though. There was no trace of skepticism in Ah Ku’s expression. He was studying Jess as though he was trying to find some sign of his mother in her face.

  “She asked me to come here,” said Jess.

  Ah Ku said something, but Ah Ma was talking over him in Jess’s head, telling her what to say. Jess waved her hand as if to bat away a mosquito, wishing it was as easy to get rid of her grandmother’s unquiet spirit.

  “Hold on a second,” she said out loud. “Take it easy! I’ll tell him.” To Ah Ku, she said, “Ah Ma’s worried about the temple.”

  Ah Ku glanced around, checking for listeners. It was getting dark, the deep soft shadows cast by the trees and bushes spreading across the garden. He got up and turned on the light before he sat back down again, leaning forward.

  “What did Big Sister say?” He said “Ah Chee,” the same term he used to refer to Jess’s mom, but Jess had a feeling he wasn’t talking about Mom this time.

  Ah Ma told her the answer, adding, Don’t talk so loud. When you speak about gods, it’s better to whisper.

  “Ah Ma didn’t ask,” Jess told Ah Ku, lowering her voice to the requisite whisper. “But Big Sister should be happy, right? This is her place. Ah Ma wants to look after it.”

  Ah Ku puffed up like an irate chicken. “You tell Ah Ma, no need to worry. I’m handling it. The case is finished already, now waiting for the judge to decide only. The lawyer says our chances are good. Ah Ma should think of herself. For humans, life and death are our fate. After dying, we must move on to the next life. It’s not good to hang around.”

  “Yes,” said Jess, editorializing somewhat. Ah Ma had rich words for sons who presumed to lecture their mothers when they (the mothers) knew more than they (the sons) ever could about the operations of fate. “But Ah Ma can’t go until the business is settled. She says you can’t trust Ng Chee Hin.”

  “True also,” Ah Ku allowed.

  “She says she’ll need a medium.”

  Ah Ku looked alarmed. “I cannot do. The god won’t like it. Ah Ma knows also. The gods they all don’t like . . .” He cleared his throat instead of saying the word.

  “Good brothers?” suggested Jess.

  Ah Ku nodded. “If Ah Ma enters me, the god will be angry.”

  Ah Ku cannot do, agreed Ah Ma. He must keep his body pure. If not, he’ll offend Kuan Kong. But what about Yew Ping?

  Jess relayed this to her uncle, who looked troubled.

  “My son?” he said.

  “Ah Ping is playful,” said Jess. “But he should know how to be a medium. He’s been coming to the temple since he was a small boy. He knows all the rites and ceremonies. With Ah Ma’s guidance, she thinks he can do it.”

  Ah Ku shook his head. “Ah Ma doesn’t know. Ah Ping is in UK now. He was selling DVDs, but the police caught him.”

  “Caught him?” said Jess. “What was he doing?”

  “Selling DVDs,” repeated Ah Ku.

  Ah Ma said impatiently, He means pirated DVDs. You’re not supposed to sell.

  “He went and punched the policeman,” continued Ah Ku. “I had to give them money, or else Ah Ping would have gone into the lockup.” He sighed. “That time, Ah Ma was in hospital. She didn’t understand things already, so no use to tell her also. After the funeral, we sent Ah Ping to UK to keep him out of trouble. He’s working there now, in a restaurant.”

  He reflected, puffing on his cigarette. “There’s the girls. How about Yew Ling? Or Yew Yen?”

  “Ah Ma doesn’t want a girl as her medium,” said Jess. “She says they’re useless. Every month you have to take a break and can’t do anything for a few days.”

  “Ma, you must be more modern.” Ah Ku was talking directly to his mother, as though Jess wasn’t even there. “Nowadays, men and women, there’s not much difference. A boy who is not reliable is useless every day of the month. Isn’t it better to have a reliable girl?

  “Both the girls are very responsible. You don’t,” said Ah Ku, with a touch of vinegar in his voice, “see them fighting with policemen. Ah Ling is working in KL now, but Ah Yen is quite big already—eighteen years old.”

  Ah Yen is going to university, no? said Ah Ma sharply. I don’t want her. She should be studying, not talking to spirits. What about your wife’s nephew, Ah Tat?

  Jess relayed this, but Ah Ku wasn’t listening. He’d had an idea.

  “Why don’t you use Ah Min?” he said. “You entered her already. She can hear your voice, means she can do it.”

  “No,” said Jess, horrified. “And that’s me talking!”

  Ah Ma was equally appalled by the suggestion. Ah Min doesn’t know anything. She grew up in US. She doesn’t know how to talk properly also.

  Jess had actually been patting herself on the back over how well she had been doing speaking Hokkien. Whether it was Ah Ma’s influence, or the effects of immersion, her Hokkien was better than it had ever been. It was true she still mixed it with English when she couldn’t remember the term for something, but everybody in Penang spoke a heterogeneous Hokkien, jumbling Malay, Chinese dialect and English together.

  But this wasn’t the moment to be defensive about her linguistic abilities.

  “Ah Ma thinks it’s a bad idea,” said Jess firmly. “She says I don’t know anything. And she’s right!”

  Ah Ku frowned. But before he could start arguing, they heard raised voices from the other end of the garden. Ah Ku got up, looking annoyed.

  “Mu
st be the devotees are scolding my assistants,” he said. “They don’t know how to respect the gods ah?”

  There was the sound of running feet. One of the polo-shirted men burst out of the bushes. The fluorescent light threw his face into stark relief, highlighting the sweat and fear.

  “Master, some men came and they’re trying to halau us,” he said. “We asked them to leave, but they don’t want. They’re carrying parang all that. How?”

  Ah Ku and Ah Ma said at the same time, “That bastard!”

  * * *

  • • •

  “WHAT’S THE MATTER, friends?” said Ah Ku, in the expansive manner of a host at a party.

  His arrival interrupted a disagreement between the devotees and a group of strange men. The devotees looked frightened and indignant, but the new arrivals looked like men on a job. They had the air of someone who had come to fix the plumbing, which sat oddly with the cleavers they carried—the parang used to clear intractable jungle.

  “You’re the boss?” said one of the men in Malay. He was no taller or larger than any of the others, but:

  That’s the chief, said Ah Ma.

  How do you know? said Jess. The man wasn’t even holding a parang, unlike the others. His hands were empty.

  Like that also you must ask? said Ah Ma contemptuously. You see him already you can know. His angin is different. The others cannot compare.

  Oh, sorry I can’t distinguish between thugs, said Jess. It’s not like I have any experience!

  Ah Ku didn’t seem bothered by the knives.

  “I am the medium,” he said. “The ceremony just started only. If you want to consult the god, you must wait. These other people came first.”

  Ah Ku had been about to put on a shirt before coming out to confront the men, but Ah Ma had intervened.

  Wear the god’s clothes, she’d said. Like that only they’ll be scared.

  But the chief thug didn’t seem intimidated by Ah Ku’s satin pants and bib. Not that Jess blamed him. He probably wasn’t even a worshipper of the Chinese gods. She found it difficult to place him—not helped by the fact that night had fallen and the garden was poorly lit—but the fact he’d addressed Ah Ku in Malay suggested he wasn’t Chinese.