Columbia by Pamela Jekel

Author:Pamela Jekel [Pamela Jekel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The cannery was ruined, of course, and the men soon were preparing to return to Chinatown. It was the beginning of the season, and few had hopes that they would find work, unless they were willing to travel many miles into the territory. Some talked of following the river up to the placer mines in the east. Tales were told of Chinese finding ample fortunes in the shafts the fan-qui had left behind. But most were loath to stray too far from what they knew.

Wheat prices were down, and the salmon runs were fewer this year than ever before. It was whispered that the whites were holding meetings in the city, demanding that the Celestials be shipped back to China. In fact, they said, they would pay any merchant five dollars if he would fire his Chink workers and hire white laborers instead. Let them go back to China on anything that floats, they threatened. To Hawaii or anyplace but here, where they lower the wages of decent white men in the territory. Besides, it was rumored that the men from the Demers cannery were more troublesome than most, possibly even diseased. The men left in the China house muttered that perhaps it was no accidental spark which had turned the cannery into a pile of smoldering ashes.

Ning Ho did not know what to do. Though Ah Fook had left some money in the pot buried under the bed, it was not enough for her to live on, nor to buy passage back to her village. She knew that few men in Chinatown would want to marry her, of course, because she was a widow, the worst of bad joss.

She was kneeling over Ilchee’s grave by the river, carefully planting cedar seedlings. “These will protect you from the winds and the rain, my friend,” she said quietly as she spaded the earth. “Did you hear what your son said before all his people? It gave you great face. The Old Master and the Young Master came together, and the Mistress rode up in the fine carriage, and when your son finished his talk, all wept good tears. Even the old sweeper bowed his head, old woman, and I know you smiled at that.”

She brushed an errant windfall off the mounded dirt. “I did not tell them of your vision, never mind. Surely Young Master does not need more pain while he wrestles with his destiny. They think your old heart feared fire, not Raven riding on grandson’s shoulders.”

She heard a rustle of footsteps and looked up. Isaac Demers approached, and Ning Ho hurriedly got to her feet.

“It’s good of you to tend her,” he said quietly. “I wish Pa would have let me bring her to our own garden.”

“She wants to sleep by river,” Ning Ho said.

“Aye, but I hate to think of her alone out here.”

Ning Ho shook her head gently at his lack of understanding. He was son of her son, her blood ran through his heart, but their lives touched no place that she could see.

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