Page 7 of The Girl with a Thousand Faces
“Good morning, uncle.” Her voice is raspy and creaky; she tries to clear her throat in vain.
The man glowers. “What do you want?” He uses no honorific for her, she notices.
“Do you have any water?” she asks, inching closer. Looking pointedly at the barrels. “I am lost, and very thirsty.”
“Lost? What do you mean? Did you come from the city?”
“No,” she says, unsure which city he means. She adds, on impulse, “But I am trying to get there. Do you know which way I should walk?” A city sounds more promising than jumping back into the ocean.
His lip curls. “Are you mad, or just stupid?”
She recoils. “What do you mean?”
“Hong Kong surrendered to the Japanese months ago,” he says, half snarling. “They called it Black Christmas. You must know that.”
She shakes her head emphatically. “I… have been living on the islands.”She intends it as a half lie to cover her ignorance, but it feels oddly like the truth in her mouth.
“The islands?! That’s very lucky. Did you sail through that storm, then?”
“I think so,” she says, in a small voice. “The boat turned over. I managed to swim to shore.”
“Lucky you, twice over. Anyway, Hong Kong belongs to the Japanese troops, now.” He spits on the ground. “You must be insane or a simpleton to think of going there.” His eyes narrow. “Or maybe, you work for the Japanese. Is that what you are? One of their collaborators?”
“I am not anything like that!” She begins to cry. “I am just lost and confused!”
Far from being moved by her plight, he seems alarmed by her neediness, her vulnerability. “We cannot help you, we cannot help you! Go away, little miss!” And he shoves her bodily down the road.
She resists, just trying to keep her balance. He shoves her again and something dark within her flares in sudden fury.
Catch him.
She snatches his wrists.
Hold him.
“Let go of me, kid!” he says, full of revulsion and anger.
Drag him to the water and—
One moment her fingers are tight around his wrists and the next she is hauling him to a nearby rain barrel, oddly strong despite being shorter and smaller than this grown man.
—keep him down until his blood is salt and his eyes are food for the fishes—
He’s yelling and thrashing and still, somehow, she wrestles him down and shoves his head into the barrel. The villager screams horribly with his head underwater, bubbles churning as he expends the air from his lungs.
—and there is nothing left of him but empty skin.
“Stop her!” People are bursting out of nearby houses, shouting and pointing as they sprint to her victim’s rescue.
Mei Chi gasps and releases the man, backing away so fast she stumbles and nearly falls. What is she doing? Why did she do that? There are no good answers to that question. She simply felt a terrible urge, heard those awful intrusive thoughts, and acted on them.
“Demon!” The man has pulled his head out of the water barrel, face bright red and streaming with water. “Demon bitch!”
Villagers are converging, furious and frightened. Mei Chi can’t blame them. She’s furious and frightened, too. At herself, as much as them.
There are thick woods, not far from here. Perhaps she can find safety there. Mei Chi flees, cringing at the villagers’ shouting.
3WATER FETCHER
