Tet Sang had bad dreams of the past whenever it was his turn, but did not complain. The new arrangement served his purpose. Besides, his capacity for enduring pain was something he had measured to the precise outer edge of its limits.
Sungai Tombak was a mining town strung across a river and surrounded by forested hills. The group set up camp by a waterfall some miles outside the town, while Ah Boon and Ah Wing were sent ahead to make contact with the people waiting for their deliveries.
They returned with good news. All was in order. The next day they would deliver the rice—and the other goods.
It would not be a bad place to off-load the nun as well, thought Tet Sang wistfully. Sungai Tombak was somewhat past its peak, worn down by the depredations of both the banditry and the Protectorate in the long-drawn-out war. But the wave of tin money had not wholly receded and the town was still prosperous. A clever, biddable girl could easily find work with a merchant’s family there. It was true Guet Imm was not especially biddable, but she had enough native cunning to make up for that.
Tet Sang was too busy to raise the idea with her, however. That night, they were all occupied with preparations for the delivery. Guet Imm had to repeat herself before anyone took notice of her.
“I want to come along tomorrow,” she said.
Fung Cheung was inspecting the sacks of rice. He looked up, frowning. “What?”
Guet Imm sat on her heels with her fists on her knees, looking as if she was going to launch into an obeisance at any moment. Her expression was nervous but determined. “I want to go into town.”
“You heard the plan,” said Fung Cheung.
Tet Sang, Rimau and Ah Boon were to bring the rice to a contact on the outskirts of town who ran a sundry shop as a front for her flourishing business trading in black-market products. From there, Tet Sang would go alone with the remaining goods to meet a representative of the buyer in the town centre. The rest of the group would make themselves scarce—visits to gambling dens, brothels, relatives and shrines alike had been banned.
“We’re not here to be tourists,” said Fung Cheung. “I am not going also, even though my Third Great-Aunt will kill me if she finds out I came to Sungai Tombak and didn’t go to see her.”
They’d agreed Fung Cheung was too memorable. There were Tang and Malayu men like Tet Sang, Ah Boon and Rimau in every town on the peninsula. Now that their robes were being washed regularly, they did not even need to source a fresh suit of clothes in order to look like ordinary men. People would look through them—but not Fung Cheung.
“We can’t afford to draw attention to ourselves,” he said.
“I won’t draw attention,” said Guet Imm. “I can wear my wig. Nobody will notice me.”
“Everybody will notice you if you wear your wig,” said Tet Sang. “What do you want to go to town for?”
Guet Imm was good at manipulation and appearing harmless when she was not, but at the end of the day, she was a nun and the product of her early training. Telling outright lies was not her forte.
“I want to buy soap,” she said.
“We don’t need soap,” said Fung Cheung. He jerked his head at the others. “If you make them cleaner some more, they won’t recognise themselves.”
“I’ll stay close to Brother Tet Sang,” said Guet Imm. “I won’t cause any trouble.”
“You’re being troublesome right now,” said Fung Cheung.
Guet Imm looked anxious, but whatever it was that drove her, it wouldn’t let her drop the subject. She opened her mouth.
“What was that ointment you were telling Ah Boon about?” said Tet Sang before she could speak. “Good for joint pain.”
For once, Guet Imm was slow on the uptake. She blinked. “The one to use for massage? It’s called—”
“You forgot the name, sister,” said Ah Boon quickly. “You couldn’t tell me.”
“But you know what the bottle looks like, right?” said Tet Sang.
Their meaning dawned on Guet Imm. “Yes! A brown bottle, with a red chop on the label.”
“What does the chop look like?” said Fung Cheung suspiciously.
But Guet Imm had got her head in the game now. She turned limpid eyes on him. “I don’t remember, brother. It might have been an axe. Or a flower. Or three legs joined together … not sure, but I’ll know the ointment when I smell it. Most herbalists will sell.”
“She might as well come with me,” Tet Sang said to Fung Cheung. “I’m fed up with this ankle pain. She can go shopping while I settle our business.”
It would have been hard to say whether Fung Cheung or Guet Imm was more surprised. Guet Imm was better at hiding it. She pasted her habitual serene smirk on her face.
“You’re the one who’s going,” said Fung Cheung finally. “But how are you going to disguise her?”
“Why does she need a disguise? She’s not on a wanted poster,” said Tet Sang. He looked at Guet Imm. “You aren’t, are you?”
The nun shook her head. “I never broke a law in my life, brother!”
“I doubt that,” said Tet Sang drily. To Fung Cheung he said, “So long as she doesn’t wear the wig, we’ll be okay. There’ll be other monks and nuns on the streets of Sungai Tombak. The only difference is she won’t be begging for money.”
“Okay,” said Fung Cheung.
He glanced at the nun as though he wondered whether she’d put a jampi on Tet Sang. But Guet Imm paid no attention to Fung Cheung. She was gazing at Tet Sang, her brow creased.
* * *
Ah Boon and Rimau were content to wait at the sundry shop where they’d dropped off the rice while Tet Sang went into the town centre to deliver the valuables. Of course, they did not miss the opportunity to lecture Guet Imm hilariously about brothels.
“Make sure you pick a decent one, with clean girls! Don’t let the madam cheat you!”
Tet Sang and Guet Imm left them drinking beer and playing cards with the sundry-shop owner.
For a time, Tet Sang and Guet Imm walked in silence, the nun stealing looks at Tet Sang while he pretended not to notice. They’d set out early that morning, when it was still dark, but now it was getting light, the rising sun turning the sky silver. Acres of rubber plantations and scrub unfolded on both sides of the road. Though the trees were recent arrivals, they might have been there forever—the silence of a much older forest breathed from them.
Guet Imm broke it, saying, “Thank you, brother.”
Tet Sang did not bother feigning incomprehension. “So long as you find the ointment. I’m sick of being pummelled by Ah Boon like I’m a side of beef.”
“He knows what the ointment is called,” said Guet Imm. “I wrote it down for him. Ah Boon is educated—he went to school until twelve years old.”
“I know.”
Guet Imm gave him a sidelong look. “Why did you help me, brother?”
“Herbalists sell rags, right?” said Tet Sang. “You’re going to get in trouble if you keep tearing off parts of your robe.”
Menstruation was subject to no taboos in the Order of the Pure Moon, since it was an affliction most of the devotees shared. No doubt even the deity suffered from her monthly visitations. Guet Imm was more taken aback than embarrassed, and after a moment, even surprise was overtaken by outrage.