For telling her what to do. What not to do. For lying to her. They had been in bed together when she told him about Donald, how he’d taken her life, how he’d used language and power against her. She’d thought he’d just hold her in his arms, stroke her hair. Instead he sat upright, stared straight into her eyes and told her Donald hadn’t stolen from her; she had given to him – freely. ‘You think I like boys saying Ching Chong Chinaman, push over apples all bruised. Beat Fong-man?’ Now he was angry. ‘Brother says, no trouble, don’t get trouble. Your Bible says, turn cheek. How many cheek I got? You give cheek, more cheek, no face left . . .’ He calmed down now, slowed his words, tried to put them together more carefully. ‘Katherine, you don’t belong to him. Language does not belong to him. You think bad but don’t know China. How many Chinese women under man’s foot? How many can read? How many man? English is your language. Your gift. Write your name on it.
What do You think about As The Earth Turns Silver?
