The Two Sisters of Borneo (23 page)

“By so many people,” Ava said.

“And more to come, and more bands.”

“How do you know that?”

“They’re telling me. At least three of the societies have hired bands.”

“You had better go and help Sonny at the door,” Ava said, beginning to feel overwhelmed by this triad outpouring.

Ava had been holding up reasonably well emotionally. She didn’t know the triads; they didn’t represent any memories or emotional connections to Uncle. But she began to falter when Carlo and Andy walked into the room together just past eleven o’clock. They were triad too, but Ava had worked with them several times, including in Las Vegas and during the Macau raid. Both of them were friends who had shown extreme loyalty to her. They had been equally devoted to Uncle. She watched as they marched side by side up to the photo and bowed so low their heads almost touched the floor. When they turned towards Ava, she saw that Andy, who was small and wiry like Uncle, had tears running down his cheeks. She had to fight back her own.

Andy tried to speak. All he could get out was, “Boss . . .”

Carlo, the more confident and assertive of the two, said, “There will never be another man like him.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“And you know that whatever you need —”

“I know. Thanks to both of you,” she said, her voice cracking.

Then the former clients began to arrive. Ava couldn’t remember all of them clearly because Uncle had managed the direct contact part of the business, but as soon as she heard their names she was able to connect them to a case. And there were a lot to connect. She had forgotten just how many cases they’d taken on over the past ten years, and as they kept rolling in — interspersed with more triads — the immensity of what she and Uncle had been able to accomplish actually shocked her. He had always said, “We are in the business of getting their money back, but they come to us so desperate and lost that we are as much in the business of retrieving their souls.” The clients seemed to understand that, as one by one they expressed respect and appreciation in terms that, outside the emotion-filled room, would have been excessive by any standard.

As Andrew Tam and his uncle came into the room, the older man clinging to his nephew’s arm, Sonny left the envelope table and crossed the floor to Ava. “We’ve filled this room. The director is setting up chairs in the room next door. He thought people would pay their respects and then leave, but it seems that most of them are going to stay to walk to the cemetery with us. Do you want to keep any seats in here free for special guests?”

Ava looked at the other side of the room through a thick cloud of incense smoke — all of the joss sticks were now lit. The triads occupied the back rows, the clients sat in front. It was as if each group understood the natural order of things. “No, everyone is a special guest. Just make sure he keeps adding chairs until he has none left.”

“And Ava, what will we do about the funeral dinner? We told the restaurant to expect about a hundred people.”

“Call them and change the number.”

“To what?”

“I don’t know,” Ava said. “Tell them three hundred.”

“I just looked outside at the courtyard. It’s still full. I think we should say five hundred, just to be on the safe side.”

“Can they handle that many?”

“Even more, as long as we give them enough notice.”

“Then book the whole restaurant and tell them to bring enough food to feed every seat in the place.”

“I’ll call them right away.”

As Ava was finishing her conversation with Sonny, Andrew Tam caught her eye. He whispered something in his uncle’s ear and the old man nodded at her. When they reached Uncle’s picture, Tam bowed, but the old man fell to his knees and prostrated himself. “My brother, my brother,” he wailed.

Tears exploded from Ava. It was so loud and sudden that Lourdes flinched and then, looking at Ava, she began to cry too.

The next hour was a blur. She was aware, vaguely, that her father and Amanda’s father, Jack Yee, had arrived. Marcus Lee seemed alarmed by the intensity of his daughter’s grief, but there was nothing that could be said or done to diminish it. Her head was filled with thoughts of Uncle as a young man swimming through cold, dark water towards Hong Kong, and th
e words he had spoken from his hospital bed the previous week kept repeating themselves. He had been a man with no family, no connections, no prospects. He had been a man with absolutely nothing, risking his life to get to a place he had never seen, with no idea what he would find or what he would do if he got there. Out of that nothingness he had created a life that had earned him the respect and admiration of all these businesspeople and all these hard men alike, people who had come from all over China, all over Asia, and even from North America to bow before his image.

At two o’clock Sonny came to her again. “Ava, the building is full. There isn’t any more room, and out in the courtyard people are starting to back up onto the street. The director wants to know if we can leave for the cemetery now.”

“We still have an hour to go.”

“He’s really worried.”

“What about the monks? I don’t want to go until I know the monks are there.”

“Uncle Fong says they’ve been there since noon.”

“And what about the people who haven’t had a chance to pay their respects?”

“They can join the funeral procession and pay their respects at the cemetery.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Ava, there just isn’t any more room.”

She had done what he had asked and tried to keep the affair simple. She knew she couldn’t be blamed for the fact that hordes of people came to pay their respects. But if the day devolved into chaos, she felt that she would be to blame.

She closed her eyes and thought about what Uncle would have wanted. Not chaos, certainly not chaos. “Yes, all right, tell him we’ll leave for the cemetery now. But Sonny, I want you to go outside and explain to everyone why we’re doing this, and I want you to tell them how much we appreciate their coming and that we want them to join us at the cemetery. And make sure everyone is invited to the funeral dinner.”

Five minutes later, Sonny returned with the funeral director. “I think everyone understood,” he said.

The funeral director addressed the people in the room. He told them there would be an early departure for the cemetery and asked them to leave the building by the front door. He said the coffin would be taken through a back door and then into the hearse for the journey to Wo Hop Shek Cemetery. The vehicle would be brought around to the front of the building and would leave from there. It would not leave without them, he promised.

As people began to file slowly out of the room, Ava, Lourdes, Sonny, and Uncle Fong were taken through a side door. Sonny took the picture of Uncle from the easel and carried it with him. As they stood outside waiting for the hearse, she heard a clash of cymbals, the banging of drums, and the high-pitched melody of flutes. The noise strengthened, filling the air around them. Ava said to Uncle Fong, “Four bands?”

Before he could answer, more drums began to play, and the cymbals became so loud it felt as if they were in the middle of a thunderstorm. “There are nine bands now,” Sonny said. “Nearly every triad society has paid for one.”

The hearse appeared and eased towards the door. The funeral director came up behind them and then motioned to the white ribbons strung from the back of the vehicle. Each of them grasped one, connecting themselves to Uncle for his last journey.

When they reached the street, the hearse had to stop while a path was cleared. The front courtyard was completely full, people spilling out onto the surrounding sidewalks and along the street for what had to be a hundred metres. Most of the guests were dressed in white or at least wore a white head covering of some kind.

The bands were also strung out along the street, their banners fluttering in the wind. They had stopped playing when the hearse appeared. The crowd had also gone still. As the hearse inched its way into the street to begin the kilometre-long drive, Ava heard a familiar voice. She turned and saw May Ling and Changxing standing at the edge of the crowd, just outside the courtyard. Ava had been too absorbed to realize she hadn’t seen them inside.

She held out her hand. They came to her, May leading, her husband just behind. “They wouldn’t let us inside,” May said, her face tear-streaked and her white silk blouse stained with black mascara. She held out her arms. Ava walked into them, still holding on to the white ribbon. They hugged almost ferociously.

So began the longest funeral procession Fanling had ever seen, and the first funeral within the memory of Hong Kong or the New Territories with as many bands.

The hearse began its ascent to Wo Hop Shek Cemetery. It was on a hillside, which was good feng shui — the higher the grave was located, the better the omens. Uncle’s was at the top.

The guests marched in groups of about fifty, each followed by a band. The bands were playing at full volume, each in their own key. As discordant as it might have seemed, to Ava nothing could have more accurately reflected the range of emotions she was experiencing.

They had gone no more than fifty metres when a man came up from behind and began walking alongside Ava, startling her. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m Xu,” he said.

He was perhaps five foot ten, slim and elegant in a black suit, a white shirt, and a narrow white silk tie. He looked directly into her eyes. “Can I walk with you?” he said.

The hearse was moving, pulling Ava along with it. She focused on keeping her balance. Xu reached for a white ribbon between her and May. May glanced sideways at him and then at Ava. She said something, but the music made it impossible for Ava to hear her.

The procession took up half of the four-lane street that led to Wo Hop Shek Cemetery, leaving room for vehicles to travel in both directions on the other side. But the size and the noise of the funeral attracted so much attention that traffic halted; people got out of their cars to stand and watch. They were joined by onlookers from the surrounding apartment buildings. By the time the procession had reached the midway point, the entire street was gridlocked, with just enough room down the centre for the hearse and the people following it. Sonny held Uncle’s picture over his head as he walked, turning it this way and that towards the encroaching crowd. As he did, they bowed one by one.

It took them more than an hour to walk the kilometre. Several times May Ling tried to speak to Ava, but the music made it impossible to be heard. Xu was to Ava’s right, his eyes locked onto the hearse.

As the hearse cleared the cemetery gates, Ava could see the monks in the distance, a cluster of orange robes. Officials from the cemetery, a man from the funeral home, and the five monks met them at the top of the rise. The hearse pulled off to one side and the funeral director led Ava and the others to the gravesite. They stood hand in hand while the procession worked its way into the cemetery and up the hill, circling the grave in rows that ran ten deep. It took close to twenty minutes for everyone to arrive and settle down.

Then they were all in place, and the only sound was the bands’ banners flapping in the wind. Uncle Fong spoke to the head monk and the last rites began.

Ava had little experience with Taoism. She didn’t understand the significance of the chanting, accompanied by the striking of bells and small brass singing bowls. It was heart-rending all the same, and she found that her tears had returned. May Ling and Lourdes cried with her.

When the monks finished, the hillside went eerily still. The funeral director nodded at Sonny and Sonny bowed his head. Four men from the funeral home went to the hearse and removed the coffin. Ava and the others turned their backs as it was carried to the grave and then lowered into the ground. Workmen slowly filled the hole. When it was almost done, Sonny tapped Ava lightly on the arm. She turned, picked up a handful of dirt, and threw it into the grave. Sonny, Uncle Fong, May Ling, Changxing, Lourdes, and Xu did the same.

When the grave was completely covered, Sonny lit two candles and gave one to Ava. They placed them at the head of the grave. Three incense sticks were lit, and Lourdes, May Ling, and Xu each placed one at the foot of the grave.

There was a heavy silence, and then the air erupted as firecrackers exploded all around them. Changxing smiled and said, “This is a good thing to do for a man from Wuhan.” As firecrackers continued to erupt, the crowd became less sombre and one of the bands began to play.

Changxing stepped forward and took an orange from his pocket. He peeled it and placed it on the grave. From his other pocket he took out a Hong Kong thousand-dollar bill and put it next to the orange. Xu, Sonny, and Uncle Fong followed suit.

Emerging from the circle of onlookers, Jack Yee and Marcus Lee approached the grave and repeated the ritual. Then others followed, slowly and respectfully. Ava watched as the entire grave became a carpet of orange. Then Sonny once again tapped her lightly on the elbow and said, “It’s time for us to go.”

The crowd parted to let them pass. As they did, Ava heard Uncle’s name being spoken, and then her own name. They seemed to her to be intertwined.

They began the return walk to the funeral home to change their clothes. Ava, Sonny, Uncle Fong, and Lourdes would give their funeral clothes to the director for burning. Ava would be putting on a white blouse; it was her intention to wear only white shirts, blouses, and T-shirts for the next month, following the tradition of mourning.

May Ling walked next to Ava, the rest of the funeral party trailing behind. They had gone about half the distance when Xu appeared at Ava’s other side. This time she really looked at him. He was a bit taller than she had thought, close to six feet, and although he was slim, his body appeared wiry and athletic. His hair was cropped tight against his skull and he had a long, lean face, with a sharp chin and a rather pointed nose. His face would have been harsh if not for the large brown eyes that were full of concern.

“
Mei mei
,” he said, “would you object if I kept in touch with you?”

“And why would you want to do that?” she asked, surprised by his question, and by his use of the familiar term
little sister
.

“We are united through Uncle,” he said.

Eyes that had been almost soft now stared at her with a frankness that was intense.
What do you want with me?
she thought. “You know I have no interest in men?” she said.

“I have heard that.”

“It’s true.”

“It makes no difference to me.”

“And I never heard Uncle speak your name. I didn’t know you existed until three days ago.”

“Uncle was a man who led several lives, and he knew how to keep them apart.”

“Then it’s even stranger that my name would be mentioned and yours not.”

Xu fell silent and Ava thought that their conversation had ended, but as they drew near the funeral home he said, “My father was from Wuhan.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“He went to Hong Kong one year after Uncle, and Uncle helped him start a new life. Sometime later my father went to Shanghai to begin his business, and Uncle supported him, always supported him. There wasn’t a man in this world who my father trusted more than Uncle. I never met him until my father died, two years ago, when Uncle came to Shanghai and we connected. I was in the business then, and from time to time I would call Uncle to ask for advice.

“Six months ago I decided that changes must be made. I had been thinking about it for a long time but it was finally taking shape in my mind. It was a complicated situation, even sensitive, and if I made a large mistake I could destroy everything my father had built. So I called Uncle and told him what I had decided to try, and he counselled me. It became my habit to call him every day and to see him in Shanghai or Hong Kong when matters became particularly pressing. Like my father, I trusted him; I trusted him completely.”

“I understand how that could be.”

“And as for Uncle, there was no one on earth that he trusted more than you.”

“He loved me,” Ava said.

“Yes, he did,” Xu said, touching her arm. “But his love had nothing to do with the trust he had in you. That came from the respect he had for your character. He was a dispassionate man: he had a remarkable ability to see people for exactly who they were. He told me — several times, many times — that if anything happened to him, I should keep you close.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This thing I’m trying to do, the changes I’m trying to make . . . I need help.”

“I don’t see how I could possibly be of any use to you.”

“Ava, Uncle talked to me about the business you and Madam Wong are starting. He thought it might provide an avenue for us to assist each other.”

“Now I really don’t understand.”

“
Mei mei
, sometime in the near future, when things are settled here and when you and Madam Wong are ready to talk, I’d like you to visit Shanghai as my guests. I will explain to you then what I have in mind and how our interests intersect. I will be honest with you, completely honest. Uncle wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They had reached the courtyard of the funeral home. “Go inside. I’ll join you in a minute,” Ava said to May and the others. “I didn’t thank you for what you did for me in Kota Kinabalu,” she said, turning back to Xu.

“Uncle was responsible for that.”

“You did it.”

“For him as much as for you.”

“Then tell me this, why did you send all those men? Why did you wreak such havoc? The moment Wan heard your name, he was terrified. Surely all you had to do was call him, contact him in some way. He would have released me, would he have not?”

“Probably.”

“Then why?”

“I wanted to send a message, more to others than to him. I saw the opportunity and I took it. The timing was good and Wan was isolated. He has virtually no ties outside Borneo, no entanglements, no one who really cares if he lives or dies. So I could demonstrate my determination, my strength, and my loyalty to Uncle without having to worry about widespread repercussions.”

“I’m not sure I should have heard that.”

Xu pursed his lips. “This is a dangerous thing I’m trying to do. The stage has to be properly set. Poor Wan decided to be stupid and greedy at the wrong time.”

“You spoke about business. What did that have to do with business?”

“There is an end to this that can meet many needs and can be a very good thing for a great many people. That is why Uncle agreed to counsel me. That is why I hope you will agree to play a role.”

“I’m not sure that Madam Wong would ever agree to that kind of relationship.”

Xu’s eyes softened. “Whether or not you and Madam Wong visit me, and whether or not you accept my business proposition, I would still like to stay in touch with you on a personal basis.”

“Why?”

“Uncle wanted it.”

“And that’s enough reason?”

“For me it is. So would you mind if I called you from time to time?”

“No, I guess I wouldn’t,” Ava said.

“Thank you,
mei mei.
When you find people worthy of your trust, you need to keep them close.”

“You think too much of me.”

He shrugged. “I think not. And perhaps there will be a day in the future when you think enough of me to call me
ge ge
.”

“Big brother?”

“Yes.”

Ava glanced up at his face. For a second she thought she was looking into Uncle’s eyes.