Read Tai-Pan Online

Authors: James Clavell

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Sagas, #Adult Trade

Tai-Pan (28 page)

“I didn’t know you could even make tea, let alone light a fire,” he said, teasing her.

“When I’m old and toothless I become amah.” She noticed absently that the last of the Chinese seamen was no longer on deck. She poured the tea and offered him a cup, smiling wanly.

“Thanks.”

Ah Gip regained consciousness. She vomited, then collapsed again. “I didna like the look of her at all,” Struan said.

“She’s a fine slave.”

He drank the tea gratefully. “How much water’s in the hold?”

“The floor is washed with water.” May-may sipped her tea. “I think it would be wise to—to—how you say?—‘buy’ sea god on our side.”

“Petition? Aye, petition.”

She nodded. “Aye. Wise if I petition sea god.”

“How do you do that?”

“There is much bullion downstairs. One bar would be very good.”

“It would be very bad. A big waste of silver. We’ve been through this a thousand times. There are nae gods but God.”

“True. But please. Please, Tai-Pan. Please.” Her eyes were begging him. “We need fantastical plenty help. I counsel asking immediate for sea god’s particular blessings.”

Struan had given up trying to make her understand that there was only one God, that Jesus was the Son of God, that Christianity was the only true religion. Two years ago he had tried to explain Christianity to her.

“You want me to be Christian? Then I’m Christian,” she had said cheerfully.

“But it’s na so easy as that, May-may. You have to believe.”

“Of course. I believe wat you want me to believe. There is one God. The Christian barbarian God. The new God.”

“It’s na a barbarian God, and na a new God. It’s—”

“Your Lord Jesus was na Chinese, heya? Then he is a barbarian. And wat for you tell me this Jesus God is na new, when only he was na even born two thousand years ago, heya? That is plenty werry new. Ayee yah, our gods are five, ten thousand years old.”

Struan had been out of his depth, for though he was a Christian and would go to kirk and sometimes pray and knew the Bible as well as most men, ordinary men, he had not the learning or the skill to teach her. So he had had Wolfgang Mauss explain the Gospel to her in Mandarin. But after Mauss had taught her and had baptized her, Struan had discovered that she still went to the Chinese temple.

“But why go there? That’s being a heathen again. You’re bowing down before idols.”

“But wat for is the wood carving of the Lord Jesus on the Cross in the church but idol? Or Cross itself? Is that na all same an idol?”

“It’s na the same.”

“The Buddha is only symbol of Buddha. I dinna worship idol, laddie. I’m Chinese. Chinese dinna worship idols, only the idea of statue. We Chinese are na stupid. We’re terriflcal clever about these god things. And how for do I know the Lord Jesus, who was barbarian, likes Chinese, heya?”

“Will you na say such things? That’s blasphemy. Wolfgang’s explained the whole Gospel to you these last months. Of course Jesus loves all people the same way.”

“Then why for do the Christian men priests who wear long skirts and dinna have womens say other Christian priests who dress like men and spawn many children are for crazy, heya? Mass’er Mauss says previously there were many wars and many killings. Ayee yah, the longskirt devils burn men and women on fires.” She shook her head firmly. “Better we change right now, Tai-Pan. Let’s be the long-skirt Christian; then if we lose to them we’ll na be burned. Your kind Christians dinna burn people, do they, heya?”

“You dinna just change like that, for that reason. Catholics are wrong. They’ve—”

“I tell you, Tai-Pan. I think we should be longskirt Christians. And I think also, you look after your new Jesus God very careful, and I look after the Jesus God as best I can, and at the same time I watch our proper Chinese gods for us too, very careful.” She had nodded very firmly, then smiled marvelously. “Then whosoever is the strongest god will look after us.”

“You canna do such a thing. There is only one God. One!”

“Prove it,” she had said.

“I canna do that.”

“There, you see. How can mortal man prove God, any god? But I am a Christian like you. But, fortunate, also Chinese, and in these god things better think a little Chinese. Werry wise to keep a werry open mind. Werry. It’s joss for you that I’m Chinese; then also on our behalf I can petition Chinese gods.” She had added hastily, “Who, of course, dinna exist.” She had smiled. “Isn’t that fine?”

“No.”

“Of course, if I had choice—which I dinna, because there is only one God—I’d prefer Chinese god. They dinna want their devoters to slaughter other gods or dead all people who dinna kowtow.” Again she had run on hastily, “But the Christian barbarian God, who is alone and only God, seems to me, as a poor, simple woman, werry blood-thirst and difficult to get along with, but of course I believe in Him. There,” she had finished emphatically.

“There’ nothing.”

“I think your heaven is one hell of strange place, Tai-Pan. Everyone flying around like birds and everyone with beards. Do you make love in heaven?”

“I dinna ken.”

“If we canna make love, I’m na going to your heaven. Oh no, absolutely. True God or no true God. That’d be a werry bad place. I must find out before go there. Yes, indeed. And another thing, Tai-Pan. Wat for should the only true God, who is therefore fantastical clever, say only one wife, heya, which is terrifical stupid? And if you are Christian, wat for are we as husband and wife, when you already got wife? Adulteratiousness, eh? Werry bad. Wat for you break so many of the Ten Commands, heya, yet still werry all right call yourself Christian?”

“Well, May-may, some of us are sinners and weak. The Lord Jesus will forgive us, some of us. He promised to forgive us if we repent.”

“I would na,” she had said, very firmly. “Na if I was the Most One God. No, indeed. And another thing, Tai-Pan. How can God be Trinity yet have number-one Son who is also God who was born of real woman, without help of real man, who then becomes Mother of God? That’s wat I dinna understand. But dinna mistake me, Tai-Pan, I’m Christian as any, by God. Heya?”

They had had many such talks, and each time he had found himself locked into an argument that had no end and no beginning, except that he knew there was only one God, the true God, and knew also that May-may would never understand. He had hoped that perhaps in His time He would make Himself clear to her . . .

“Please, Tai-Pan,” May-may said again. “One little pretend will na harm anything. I said a prayer already to the One God. Dinna forget that we’re in China and it is a Chinese river.”

“But it does nae good at all.”

“I know. Oh yes, Tai-Pan, I know absolutely. But I’m only a two-year Christian, so you and God must be patient with me. He will forgive me,” she ended triumphantly.

“All right,” Struan said.

She went below. When she came back she had washed her face and her hands, and her hair was braided. In her hands was a silver brick wrapped in paper. The paper was covered with Chinese characters.

“Did you write the characters?”

“Yes. I found writing pen and ink. I wrote a prayer to the sea god.”

“What does it say?”

“ ‘Oh Great Wise and Powerful Sea God, in return for this enormous gift which is almost hundred taels of silver, please bring us safe to a barbarian ship called 
China Cloud
 belonging to my barbarian, and thence to the island Hong Kong wat the barbarians have stolen from us.’ ”

“I dinna think much of that prayer,” he said. “After all, lass, it’s my silver, and I dinna like being called a barbarian.”

“It’s a polite prayer, and it tells the truth. It’s a Chinese sea god. To a Chinese you’re barbarian. It’s most important to tell the truth in prayer.” She walked gingerly down the listing side of the ship, and with great difficulty held the heavy, paper-covered silver brick at arm’s length, and closed her eyes and intoned the prayer that she had written. Then, her eyes still closed, she neatly unwrapped the silver brick and let the paper fall into the water and tucked the brick quickly into the folds of her jacket. She opened her eyes and watched the paper being sucked down into the river by the wash of the boat.

She clambered back joyfully, the silver safe in her arms. “There. Now we can rest.”

“That’s a cheat, by God,” Struan said, exploding.

“Wat?”

“You did na drop the silver overboard.”

“Shusssssssssh! Na so loud! You spoil everything!” Then she whispered, “Of course na. Do you think I’m a fool?”

“I thought you wanted to make an offering.”

“I’ve just make it,” she whispered, perplexed. “You dinna think I’d really throw all that silver in the river, do you? God’s blood, am I a lump of dog meat? Am I mad?”

“Then why go through—”

“Shussssssh!” May-may said urgently. “Na so loud! The sea god may hear you.”

“Why pretend to drop the silver overboard? That’s no offering.”

“I swear to God, Tai-Pan, I dinna understand you at all. Wat for do gods need real silver, heya? Wat for should they use real silver? To buy real clothes and real food? Gods are gods and Chinese are Chinese. I’ve made the offering and saved your silver. I swear to God, barbarians are strange people.”

And she went below, muttering to herself in Soochow dialect, “As if I’d destroy so much silver! Am I an empress that I can throw silver away? Ayeee yah,” she said, negotiating the corridor into the hold. “Even the devil empress would not be so foolish!” She put the silver in the bilge where she had found it and went back on deck.

Struan heard her returning, still mumbling irritably in Chinese.

“What’re you saying?” he demanded.

“Am I so mad as to waste so much hard-earned cash? Am I a barbarian? Am I a waster—”

“All right. But I still dinna understand why you think the sea god’ll answer your prayers when he’s been so obviously duped. The whole matter is fantastical stupid.”

“Will you na say such things so loudly,” she said. “He’s got offering. Now he’ll protect us. It’s na real silver a god want, merely idea. That’s what he got.” She tossed her head. “Gods are like people. They believe anything if you tell them right way.” Then she added, “Maybe the god is out and will na help us anyway and we’ll sink, never mind.”

“Another thing,” Struan said dourly. “Why should we whisper, eh? It’s a Chinese sea god. How the hell can he understand English, heya?”

This confounded May-may. She frowned, thinking hard. Then she shrugged. “A god is a god. Perhaps they speak the barbarian tongue. Would you like more tea?”

“Thanks.”

She poured it into his cup and hers. Then she clasped her hands around her knees and settled herself on a hatchway and hummed a little song.

The lorcha wallowed in the river current. Dawn was breaking.

“You’re quite a woman, May-may,” Struan said.

“I like you, too.” She nestled against him. “How many men are there like you, in your country?”

“About twenty million, men, women and children.”

“There are, they say, three hundreds of millions of Chinese.”

“That would mean that every fourth person on earth is Chinese.”

“I worry for my people if all barbarians are like you. You kill so many, so easily.”

“I killed them because they were trying to kill me. And we’re na barbarians.”

“I am glad I saw you at your killing,” she said weirdly, her eyes luminous, her head framed by the growing light of dawn. “And I’m werry glad you were na deaded.”

“One day I’ll be dead.”

“Of course. But I’m glad I saw you at your killing. Our son Duncan will be worthy of you.”

“By the time he’s grown it will na be necessary to kill.”

“By the time his children’s children’s children are grown there will still be killing. Man is killer beast. Most all men. We Chinese know. But barbarians are worse than us. Worse.”

“You think that because you’re Chinese. You’ve many more barbaric customs than we have. People change, May-may.”

Then she said simply, “Learn from us, from the lessons of China, Dirk Struan. People never change.”

“Learn from us, from the lessons of England, lass. The world can grow into an ordered place where all are equal before the law. And the law is just. Honest. Without graft.”

“Is that so important if you are starving?”

He thought about that a long time.

The lorcha plodded downstream. Other craft passed, upstream and downstream, and the crews stared at the lorcha curiously but said nothing. Ahead the river curled and Struan eased the lorcha into the channel. The canvas patch seemed to be holding.

“I think so,” he finally answered. “Aye. I think that’s very important. Oh yes, I wanted to ask you something. You said you went to see Jin-qua’s Supreme Lady. Where did you meet her?”

“I was slave in her house,” May-may said calmly. “Just before Jin-qua sold me to you.” She looked into his eyes. “You bought me, didn’t you?”

“I acquired you according to your custom, aye. But you’re no slave. You can leave or stay, freely. I told you that the first day.”

“I did na believe you. I believe you now, Tai-Pan.” She watched the shore and the boats passing. “I’ve never seen a killing before. I dinna like killing. Is that because I am woman?”

“Aye. And nay. I dinna ken.”

“Do you like killing?”

“Nay.”

“It is a pity your arrow miss Brock.”

“I did na aim at him. I was na trying to kill him, just to make him swerve.”

She was astonished. “I swear to God, Tai-Pan, you’re peculiar fantastical.”

“I swear to God, May-may,” he said, his eyes crinkled into a smile, “you’re peculiar fantastical.”

She lay on her side, watching him, cherishing him. Then she slept.

When she awoke the sun was up. The land beside the river was low and ran back to misted horizons. An abundant land, patterned with numberless paddy fields, green and waving with winter rice. Clouded hills afar off.

The Marble Pagoda was just ahead. Beneath it was 
China Cloud.

BOOK II
CHAPTER NINE

 

Four days later 
China Cloud
 was secretly at anchor in Deepwater Bay, on the south side of Hong Kong Island. It was a cold morning with a sky cloud-locked, the sea gray.

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