Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 288

‘I’ve seen that before.’
‘Oh.’
So that’s ‘death by a spirit’. The question of WHO remained. Just then, there was a knock, and Leung came
in.
‘Who were you talking to, man?
‘Er, no one in particular. What?’
‘Well… I just wanted to talk.’
‘Erm, sure,’ I pulled him a chair and poured him some tea. I could understand why he wanted to chat. Sea
voyages were long, and entertainment was all but common.
‘The murder was unsettling, right?’
‘Yeah…’
‘Listen, do you know why I am here?’
‘No ….’ The sudden change of topic surprised me, as well as the eagerness in his tone. Speaking of which,
I’d always wondered why Leung was here. I was here because I wanted adventures, Chan was probably here
to fuss on everything like a mother hen, and Liang had those big dreams. So why did Leung come on board?
‘So why did you come on board?’
‘So… well, when I was younger, see… I wasn’t well liked,’
‘Okay?’ This was getting kind of boring. “Um… so? Does that have anything to do with you being here?’
‘No, just listen. Ming was one of the biggest bullies. Like… I came here because I kind of wanted to tell
him that. But see…’
‘Hey, you gotta tell me what. Preferably faster. Stop hesitating your words!’ I said, starting to get annoyed.
‘Okay. I’m good. See, Ming’s family had financial problems since he was five. Apparently his father died,
and his mother was weak. So he turned to robbery. Then this year, he somehow suddenly decided to pick
up being a trader.’
‘A trader? Him?’
‘Yeah. But he never had great business because he couldn’t get high-quality stuff. So-’
‘The spices!’ I exclaimed, jumping up and nearly knocking over the stool I was sitting on. ‘Those things can
make anyone rich.’
‘Yeah, but listen, Chan is suspicious too. He is one of the more affluent traders in Ming’s area, and I heard
before he came here, Ming was getting his customers.
’‘Huh.’ I was never into trading, but I guess that was bad for a trader.
‘So, yes anything else?’
‘No, not really…’
___________________________________________________________
So everyone has a motive.
I’m not sure who did it, but it makes me uneasy to sleep.
Everyone. Has. A. Motive.
Seriously, what is with Ming? He’s dead, and apparently, everyone on this ship (except me), kinda hates
him. And the spices are trouble too. I’m not sure what charm you can find in a bunch of nice-smelling dead
plants, but three people want it, and one of them is dead. Could Chan or Liang have killed him? I mean,
neither of them liked him very much anyways. Come to think of it, if we have a popularity poll, Ming
would probably be last. All that thinking made me hungry. I went out to the kitchen to look for any spare
food, although it seemed chance was slim. Hungry sailors simply don’t leave much food behind.
Apparently, someone had the same idea as I did, because Liang was in the kitchen, and on the table in front
of him, there was a small fish. ‘Um, hello?’ I said quietly. It would do the neither of us any good if we woke
anyone. Food for two is more food per share than food for five. Simple calculation.
‘Why are’nt you asleep?’
‘That’s my line. What are you doing here?
‘Preparing for tomorrow, duh,’ he said this as he rubbed more salt into the fish.
‘So… y’ou’re not here to get food, or you can’t sleep?’
‘... how did you know that?’