British opium smugglers, and how my own father was murdered by foreign soldiers while on a peaceful march supporting Guangzhou strikers, and how I share my name with the great Zhang Xiuquan and the poor schoolteacher, Hong Xiuquan, the leader of the Taiping Uprising.
‘And how Zhang Xiuquan is the big man who rescued the livelihood of the Kingston Chinese merchants; and how poverty in Jamaica is the direct result of slavery and so, even to this day, the responsibility of the British.
‘Well maybe the Chinese peasants are not all heroes, maybe they are nothing more than a bunch of murdering barbarians who think that life is cheap. Who kill Westerners when they can, and turn on each other when they no longer have the throats of white men and missionaries to slash. Didn’t Chiang Kai-shek turn against his own allies ordering the arrest of Communist Party members and massacring the Communists in Shanghai? Killing, that is all it is. What is so glorious about that? And why should I feel guilty because I no longer want to listen to it?’
When I look over, I see Zhang standing there in the doorway. When Xiuquan stop, Zhang just turn ’round and walk out. By the time I let go of Ma and run to the door I see Zhang already halfway up the yard heading towards his room. The rain is coming down so heavy the drops is hopping off the concrete but Zhang don’t even have a newspaper to cover his head the way he like to. He just let the rain soak into him so by the time he put his foot on the first step of his room his shirt is stuck to him like it been glued on with paste.
Next morning me and Ma walk Xiuquan to the dock. Zhang get up early and leave the house, so is nowhere to be found. The three of us walk the whole way in silence. Just as him ready to board the boat Xiuquan give Ma a hug, and then him hug me and I say to him, ‘You will write when you get settled?’
And him say, ‘Yah, man.’
7
Responsibility
As I watch the ship sail away I realise that I would never leave Jamaica. Never. I was committed to her, for good or bad, rich or poor, in sickness and in health. I stand there and I remember the day at Matthews Lane when I ask Zhang how come he leave China and come to Jamaica. And just the same way him do everything direct, Zhang get up from the table and march me up to the top of the yard and into his room. I never step foot inside that room before so I just stand there in the doorway and look inside. It was dark, because although it have a door the room don’t have no window. Then what I realise is, is only the first four rooms got windows. The last one only got a door. Zhang give himself a storeroom to sleep in.
The first thing that hit me was the smell of clean cotton. Then when my eyes get accustomed, I see that the place look like him must scrub it from top to bottom every day. And it sparse, a canvas cot to sleep on, a camphor chest, and a old rocking chair. And hanging on the wall next to his bed, a narrow-blade sword with a brass hand-guard.
Him tell me to sit, so I ease into the rocking chair. Then him open the chest and dig into it like he looking for something. When he turn ’round he got three letters in his hand. He come over and squat down next to me, and hand me the first letter. It was from Mr Chin and the Kingston Chinese merchants.
. We hear you are a fierce and courageous soldier, loyal to the Chinese people. An expert in the martial arts, a crack shot with a gun. We have trouble in Jamaica and ask you to come as swiftly as possible. You will be generously rewarded. We will pay your credit-ticket on arrival. Do not bother with the coolie crimps. Those despicable Chinese gangsters will sell you by the head to a barracoon agent. Just go straight to the British Emigration House right there in Guangzhou. Let us know when you are leaving. We will be there to meet your ship in Kingston.
Zhang lean toward me and sorta whisper, ‘I don’t know how they come to settle their sights on me. I
‘And how Zhang Xiuquan is the big man who rescued the livelihood of the Kingston Chinese merchants; and how poverty in Jamaica is the direct result of slavery and so, even to this day, the responsibility of the British.
‘Well maybe the Chinese peasants are not all heroes, maybe they are nothing more than a bunch of murdering barbarians who think that life is cheap. Who kill Westerners when they can, and turn on each other when they no longer have the throats of white men and missionaries to slash. Didn’t Chiang Kai-shek turn against his own allies ordering the arrest of Communist Party members and massacring the Communists in Shanghai? Killing, that is all it is. What is so glorious about that? And why should I feel guilty because I no longer want to listen to it?’
When I look over, I see Zhang standing there in the doorway. When Xiuquan stop, Zhang just turn ’round and walk out. By the time I let go of Ma and run to the door I see Zhang already halfway up the yard heading towards his room. The rain is coming down so heavy the drops is hopping off the concrete but Zhang don’t even have a newspaper to cover his head the way he like to. He just let the rain soak into him so by the time he put his foot on the first step of his room his shirt is stuck to him like it been glued on with paste.
Next morning me and Ma walk Xiuquan to the dock. Zhang get up early and leave the house, so is nowhere to be found. The three of us walk the whole way in silence. Just as him ready to board the boat Xiuquan give Ma a hug, and then him hug me and I say to him, ‘You will write when you get settled?’
And him say, ‘Yah, man.’
7
Responsibility
As I watch the ship sail away I realise that I would never leave Jamaica. Never. I was committed to her, for good or bad, rich or poor, in sickness and in health. I stand there and I remember the day at Matthews Lane when I ask Zhang how come he leave China and come to Jamaica. And just the same way him do everything direct, Zhang get up from the table and march me up to the top of the yard and into his room. I never step foot inside that room before so I just stand there in the doorway and look inside. It was dark, because although it have a door the room don’t have no window. Then what I realise is, is only the first four rooms got windows. The last one only got a door. Zhang give himself a storeroom to sleep in.
The first thing that hit me was the smell of clean cotton. Then when my eyes get accustomed, I see that the place look like him must scrub it from top to bottom every day. And it sparse, a canvas cot to sleep on, a camphor chest, and a old rocking chair. And hanging on the wall next to his bed, a narrow-blade sword with a brass hand-guard.
Him tell me to sit, so I ease into the rocking chair. Then him open the chest and dig into it like he looking for something. When he turn ’round he got three letters in his hand. He come over and squat down next to me, and hand me the first letter. It was from Mr Chin and the Kingston Chinese merchants.
. We hear you are a fierce and courageous soldier, loyal to the Chinese people. An expert in the martial arts, a crack shot with a gun. We have trouble in Jamaica and ask you to come as swiftly as possible. You will be generously rewarded. We will pay your credit-ticket on arrival. Do not bother with the coolie crimps. Those despicable Chinese gangsters will sell you by the head to a barracoon agent. Just go straight to the British Emigration House right there in Guangzhou. Let us know when you are leaving. We will be there to meet your ship in Kingston.
Zhang lean toward me and sorta whisper, ‘I don’t know how they come to settle their sights on me. I
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