Black Water Sister

by Zen Cho

  “That’s true,” murmured Mom to Kor Kor.

  “This story everybody knows,” said Kor Kor skeptically.

  “I didn’t know it,” said Jess. It was a different story from the one Ah Ma had told her about the origins of the temple—wasn’t it? Maybe the rich man who had turned the temple into a garden had worked on the plantation there before he had gained his wealth.

  “Of course this kind of thing we won’t talk about if we can avoid it,” said Mom. “Ask Master Yap what to do about the god.”

  “You don’t need to be scared,” said Master Yap. “The god was showing you her death. Not everybody gets to see. This is her way of honoring you. Other people, she won’t send such dreams.”

  “Oh,” said Jess. “Great. Cool. How do I get out of being honored?”

  “All the girl needs to do is accept,” continued Master Yap, as though she hadn’t spoken. “Big Sister has chosen her as her medium. She put her mark on the girl. True or not?”

  Jess’s hand crept to her neck. Ah Huat, who had seen the god’s fingerprints on her skin, said, “It’s true! The mark is on her neck there. Master Sim saw.”

  “But this makes no sense,” said Jess. She felt like she was being swept down a river by a swift current.

  Kor Kor was clutching her cross to her chest. Mom’s face was bloodless, the corners of her lips pulled down as if by an invisible weight.

  “I destroyed her altar,” said Jess. “Why would she choose me as her medium?”

  “Her old one passed on.” Mom’s voice came out in a whisper, flattened by horror. Clearing her throat, she said, louder, “My mother was her medium. She passed on last year.”

  “That’s why,” said Master Yap, nodding with the satisfaction of a detective happening on the final missing clue. “This girl has the grandmother’s blood, means she can do it. Because she spoiled the shrine, she owes the god a debt. So the god chose her.

  “Go back to the temple there and rebuild the shrine,” he said to Jess. “For training, ask the medium.” He patted Mr. Sim’s chest. “He can teach you. Then it will be OK. This god, Black Water Sister, she must have a priest to serve her. She had no children to do the rites for her, so the medium must do. If not, she can become dangerous. She can hurt people.”

  Both he and Ah Huat seemed to feel this resolved the issue. Ah Huat said to Master Yap, “There’s nobody else already. Today only this girl. Please go back to heaven, tomorrow come again.”

  “Wait!” said Jess.

  “She can’t be a medium,” said Mom. “She graduated from Harvard!”

  But Master Yap had lost interest, no doubt thinking of the plumes of incense smoke awaiting him on his heavenly cloud. “Want or don’t want, there’s nothing to be done. It’s not the human who decides.”

  The light went out of Mr. Sim’s eyes. He slumped as the spirit left him, Ah Huat catching his limp body with practiced ease. He helped Mr. Sim to a seat.

  Mr. Sim opened his eyes. He looked bleary, as though he was waking up after a bender.

  “So how?” he said. “Settled already?”

  It turned out Kor Kor had brought a sheaf of tracts in her handbag. She handed them out as they said their goodbyes.

  “You can come to my church anytime,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to my pastor. Our congregation has people like you, used to be involved in this kind of thing. There’s no need to stay inside. You can step out.”

  Mr. Sim accepted the tract politely, but Jess could tell he wasn’t convinced.

  “If I can choose, who will want to do this work?” he said. He pointed at his face. Livid marks stood out on his skin where Jess had shoved her bushel of burning joss sticks at him. “The god is the one who fought with you, but I’m the one who has the injury.”

  “Sorry,” said Jess guiltily. “He was coming for me and I didn’t think.”

  Mr. Sim waved her apology away. “It’s the god who attacked you. Of course you will defend yourself. When I come back, I’m the one who must deal with the consequences. To be a medium is like that. What the gods want to do, you cannot stop. You have to accept it.”

  “No such thing,” said Kor Kor. “Try and see! Ask Jesus to save you.”

  Mr. Sim shook his head.

  “It’s not for the medium to choose,” he said. He met Jess’s eyes, but she looked away, unwilling to find recognition there.

  SIXTEEN

  Mom turned to Kor Kor as they came out of Master Yap’s temple.

  “Did your pastor reply to you yet? She’s free when?”

  Kor Kor looked surprised. “You want to consult her?”

  “You said she can help Min, means I want to see her,” said Mom. “If she wants to baptize Min today itself, she can do it.”

  “Uh, she can?” said Jess. “Do I get a say?”

  “Being a Christian is no big deal what,” said Mom as they got into the car. “Just do the ceremony. Don’t need to go to church if you don’t want.”

  “Hoon Chee, cannot like that,” Kor Kor objected. “If Min wants to convert, she must take it seriously.”

  “I am not converting to Christianity!” said Jess.

  “Whatever the pastor wants, we can do,” said Mom, ignoring her. “If she wants, Loke Khoon and I can convert also. After all, our parents have passed on already. Better we all become Christian than Min has to be the medium.” Her gaze when she met Jess’s eyes in the rearview mirror was steely.

  She was a woman on a mission, but it was an unpropitious season for getting things done. Jess and her parents might not be celebrating Chinese New Year due to Mom’s recent bereavement, but that wasn’t stopping the rest of the island. While the non-Chinese took advantage of the public holiday to crowd the shopping malls, the Chinese closed up shop and went home to their families.

  “All the mediums will be busy,” said Mom. “Maybe Kor Kor is right also. These mediums are not the answer. They are part of that world, so they have a certain mindset. If the god says you must do like that, they follow only. This lady-pastor will be different.”

  But the lady-pastor was vacationing in Langkawi. Kor Kor wasn’t sure when she’d be back.

  “Cannot be she’s the only pastor in Penang,” said Mom. “Who else is there?”

  Kor Kor was very willing to help despite her busy social life. Every affluent boomer in Penang with dead parents and children overseas had been congregating in her house for the past week or so, eating truckloads of peanuts, drinking tea and comparing WhatsApp forwards of dubious provenance.

  But the day after their visit to Master Yap’s temple, Kor Kor’s eldest daughter made a surprise appearance. She turned up at the door with her bags and a huge grin, just in time for reunion dinner.

  Mom took one look at Ching Yee, fresh from her twelve-hour flight from Sydney, and sighed.

  “We’ll go and see Kor Kor’s pastor next week,” she said to Jess in an undertone.

  There wasn’t much opportunity for private conversation after that, what with all the visitors and the various entertainments Kor Kor immediately began planning for Ching Yee.

  Jess didn’t mind. It was a relief to be restored to the mundane for a while. Caught up in family commitments, she was forced not to think about the god.

  Ching Yee was sharing her bedroom, which ruled out calls with Sharanya. This obviously sucked, but it was also kind of a relief. It would be too weird having to pretend to Sharanya that everything was normal when it was so profoundly not.

  It was nice how happy Kor Kor was. Her only grievance with the world was that Ching Yee was spending no more than a week in Penang.

  “Why you didn’t take more leave?” said Kor Kor. “One week is not enough. Should be ten days, two weeks at least.”

  “Cannot lah, Ma. I’m on this big project at work, I can’t afford to be out for too long,” said Ching Yee. “And I have
to get back to Oz. My friend’s wedding is next week. I’m the maid of honor.”

  “What friend is this? Australian?”

  “He’s Malaysian, actually,” said Ching Yee. “Haffiz. My good friend from secondary school.” She looked out of the window. “The garden’s looking good. How’s the passion fruit you got from Auntie Grace? Got fruit or not?”

  “The Malay boy? I remember, you used to go to tuition with him,” said Kor Kor. “Eh, I saw his parents the other day, at Queensbay Mall. They didn’t say they’re going to Australia also.”

  “Haffiz’s parents aren’t going to the wedding,” said Ching Yee.

  Something in the tone of her voice put Jess on guard. She was braced even before Ching Yee said, “He’s marrying a guy.”

  “Oh,” said Kor Kor.

  Her face looked like she’d bitten into an orange, only to find out it was a lime. Jess didn’t dare look at Mom.

  “Like that also you want to go?” said Kor Kor. “You know, the Bible says—”

  “The Bible says we should love our neighbors as we love ourselves,” said Ching Yee. “Haffiz is one of my oldest friends. Whether I’m going is not up for debate. If you don’t like it, you don’t need to comment.”

  “Girl . . .”

  “I’m going to get a top-up,” said Ching Yee, raising her glass. “Jess, you want more soya bean?”

  The look she gave Jess as she went off to the kitchen was definitely a meaningful one, but what it meant was hard to parse. It was apologetic, a little guilty, a little amused. Was it an “I’m sorry for having a scene with my mom and making things awkward” look? Or was it specifically an “I’m sorry for provoking our family into displaying their latent homophobia to you” look?

  Jess couldn’t help suspecting it was the latter. But Ching Yee didn’t know, did she? There was nothing on Jess’s social media that could have given her away. She was never in any of Sharanya’s pictures either. She was so careful.

  It wasn’t that she’d mind Ching Yee herself knowing she was gay. But if Ching Yee knew, that was only one degree away from Kor Kor knowing, and Kor Kor knowing was as good as Jess’s parents knowing.

  And Jess’s parents had enough crap to deal with as it was. Chinese New Year was stressing them out. At the end of the first day, when Jess was stretched out on her bed, trying to persuade herself to get up and have a shower, she heard them arguing in their room.

  “Why you gave Loke Keong’s kids fifty ringgit angpow for what? Not like you’re so close,” Mom was saying. “You’re his older brother and he only visit us after we’re in Penang for two weeks already.”

  “Aiyah, shouldn’t hold a grudge over this small matter,” said Dad. “To these young people, fifty ringgit is not to say a lot also.”

  “All the more you shouldn’t give so much, if they don’t know how to appreciate. In our position, who are we to splash our money? Everybody knows we’re struggling.”

  “Gave already, don’t need to talk so much. Loke Keong gave Min fifty ringgit also what.”

  “But Loke Keong has three children,” said Mom. “We have one only. He knows he won’t lose money. Just because he’s your brother, doesn’t mean you should let him take advantage of you—”

  “Enough lah!” snapped Dad. “You’re always so scared my family take advantage of us. Who let us stay in this house? Who gave me a job? Your family hasn’t contributed one sen also.”

  The silence that followed was so awkward that Jess got off her bed and went to the bathroom just to put some distance between it and herself.

  Then there was the incident with the uncle with the Rolex. It wasn’t like Jess was able to distinguish a Rolex from any other watch; she only knew the uncle had a Rolex because he talked to Kor Tiao about it for the entire duration of his visit. Jess hadn’t known it was possible to have so many feelings about watches.

  She would have forgotten all about Rolex uncle if she hadn’t come upon Mom a few hours later, hiding in her room and wiping her eyes.

  “Have you guys been fighting again?” said Jess.

  “What? Who’s fighting?” said Mom. “Oh, with Dad? No lah, we’re OK. Dad’s too generous, that’s all. He’s such a good man, you know. But still people treat him like this.”

  “Like what?” Jess sat down next to Mom on the bed. “What happened?”

  “You saw how that Uncle Gordon treated him?” said Mom. She meant the Rolex uncle.

  Jess hadn’t really been paying attention, for the obvious reason that the conversation had been somewhat less interesting than watching paint dry. “Did he say something to Dad?”

  “He didn’t talk to Dad at all,” said Mom. “Talked to Kor Tiao only, like he doesn’t know Dad. Dad was his senior at uni, you know! He helped Uncle Gordon get his first job, recommended him to the boss. Now he’s rich and Dad’s not doing so well, he doesn’t even want to look at Dad. Did you know there’s such people in the world?”

  She was welling up as she spoke. Jess’s heart twisted in her chest. She leaned over Mom to grab a tissue off the bedside table.

  “He sounds like an asshole,” said Jess, handing Mom the tissue. “He’ll probably die alone and get eaten by his Rolexes. Who cares about somebody like that?”

  “I told Dad also, but he’s the old friend from uni. How not to care?” Mom blew her nose. “Don’t tell Dad I told you. He doesn’t want you to be upset.”

  Jess thought about all the secrets they were keeping to spare one another’s feelings. Mom was the weak link. Anything you told her you knew Dad would hear, and she regularly told Jess all the things Dad tried to protect her from. Mom could never keep anything to herself.

  But that wasn’t true, was it? It turned out Mom had the biggest secrets of them all.

  “Mom,” said Jess, “what if there’s nothing we can do about the . . .” She swallowed. “About the god? What if I’m stuck with her?”

  Mom stiffened.

  “That won’t happen,” she said. “We’ll solve it. You haven’t seen anything since we went to Master Yap’s temple, right?”

  Jess shook her head. She hadn’t seen the Black Water Sister again, sleeping or waking. There had been no trace of Ah Ma either—not that Mom even knew about Ah Ma.

  “Maybe the cleansing ritual worked,” said Mom.

  Donald Sim had given her a bag of rice grains and told her to sprinkle some in the corners of each room to bless the house. Not to be left out, Kor Kor had gone around the house hanging up crucifixes and torn-out pages of an old calendar bearing Bible verses. If the Black Water Sister were a movie vampire, Jess would be feeling pretty secure right now.

  “For all you know, she won’t come back,” said Mom.

  “Yeah,” said Jess, but she wasn’t convinced.

  She’d promised the god a sacrifice. The god was waiting for her.

  It was easier to believe that Ah Ma might have been kept away by the blessed rice and crucifixes. It was either that, or Jess had managed to make Ah Ma mad enough that the ghost was finally leaving her alone.

  She hoped it was one of those, and not that something had happened to Ah Ma. What if the Black Water Sister had done something terrible to her—devoured her soul or something—because of what Jess had done? Ah Ma had lied, attempted murder, done her best to screw Jess over. But Jess still didn’t want to be the cause of her grandmother’s ghost having been devoured by a vengeful goddess.

  She slanted a glance at her mom. At least Mom didn’t seem to have any suspicion about Ah Ma’s involvement in all of this. Jess wasn’t planning on telling her, so long as she could avoid it. It was bad enough losing a mother about whom you had complicated feelings. Hearing she’d returned as a ghost but hadn’t bothered trying to speak to you and her ghost had gone missing would be even worse.

  “We’ll see if Kor Kor’s pastor can help,” said Mom. “Even if she cannot, t
here’ll be some other way. In the end, god is not so different from human. They want you to respect them, give them presents. You look at even the richest, most powerful man, like that guy . . . who is he?” Mom paused, her brow furrowed in the effort of recollection.

  “Ng Chee Hin?” Jess suggested.

  Mom blinked. She’d probably been thinking of Jeff Bezos or somebody. “Yeah, like him. How did you hear of Ng Chee Hin?” She must have forgotten that Jess had been there when the aunties and uncles were discussing him in Kor Kor’s living room.

  “He’s one of Kor Tiao’s biggest customers,” Jess reminded her. “I Googled him. He’s the fifth richest man in Malaysia, did you know that?”

  “Wah,” said Mom, impressed. “Fifth richest! When he started out, he didn’t have any money. Now he’s so well-off.”

  The thought seemed to make her pensive. She said, “When my mother passed on, she still didn’t have any money. Holiday also, the farthest she went was to Genting.”

  “Genting Highlands?” Jess vaguely remembered a trip to the amusement park at Genting when she was a kid. She’d been entertained by the locals bundled up against the seventy-degree chill. “Was Ah Ma a big fan of roller coasters?”

  “She liked the casino,” said Mom absently. “What I was saying is, even Ng Chee Hin, even if he’s the number one richest man in the world, you can negotiate with him. If he doesn’t know how to compromise, he won’t be able to do business, right?”

  “I guess,” said Jess. “I’m not sure gods are really into compromise, though.”

  “Can one,” said Mom. “You can bargain with anybody, spirit or human. All you need to know is what do they want and what are they scared of. That’s all.”

  Jess made an affirmative noise. It wasn’t like she even disagreed. She thought the Black Water Sister probably would be open to striking a deal. The problem was, Jess suspected, none of them was going to like her price.

  * * *

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