Jessica props her elbows on the table, clasps her hands and leans her face on them. “The month of May reminds me of the Chinese massacre in Hells Canyon in 1887, which was a racial hate crime combined with greed.” Lush caramel-coloured hair tumbles wild and free over her bare shoulders, while two firm curving breasts push the front of her tunic prominently outward, making my mouth go dry.
My gaze on her face sharpens. “Where’s Hells Canyon?” I take a sip of my Caffe Americano and a silent puff exhales from my lips.
Jessica and I are talking shop in Starbucks in One Utama Shopping Centre. The smell of coffee swirls around, merging with the aroma of freshly baked cookies.
“In the Oregon side of the Snake River in the US.” Jessica stirs her drink with a swizzle stick and sucks at the straw.
I feel a frown ridging my brows. “What happened?”
“In late May 1887, thirty-four Chinese were prospecting for gold on the Snake River. Seven white men shot the miners with rifles and robbed them of their gold dust. They burned their camp and mining equipment and dumped their bodies into the Snake River. Later, the Chinese bodies were washed onto the banks of the river in Lewiston, a small city in Idaho. The murderers were presumably horse thieves from Wallowa County. None of those caught were convicted. In 2005, the massacre site called Deep Creek was renamed Chinese Massacre Cove. In 2012, a memorial was erected as a mark of respect to the victims.”
“How do you know this story?”
“I read it in Massacred for Gold: The Chinese in Hells Canyon, written by R. Greogry Nokes. He was a reporter for The Oregonian." Jessica straightens up in her seat. “Let me continue the story. After the bodies appeared, the Sam Yup Company hired Lewiston judge Joseph K. Vincent to investigate the killings. Sam Yup was the employer of the miners. Joseph reported his findings—including the identity of the seven men—to the Chinese consulate in San Francisco. Only three men were caught, the rest escaped. They were put on trial in 1888, but the all-white jury delivered a not-guilty verdict.” A low groan wrenches from her lips.
Anger sears through me like a high voltage-wire and I slam a fist on the table, which rattles. “What the fuck!” My fist flies to my mouth. “Oops, I’m sorry, I used the f-word.”
A pink haze colours Jessica’s cheeks. “Aw, never mind.”
I pump more hot, strong coffee into my veins.
"Immigrant Chinese were badly treated in the 19th century. Most couldn’t speak English, wore pig-tails and were not integrated into American society.” Jessica’s gaze at me is gentle but her voice is hard. “In fact, there was another massacre in Rock Springs in Wyoming in 1885. Twenty-eight Chinese coal miners were killed by white coal miners. They perceived the Chinese as having stolen white jobs. A year later, a white mob in Tacoma drove away two hundred Chinese from the town, who boarded a steamship to San Franciso.” She pauses to catch her breath and stifles a yawn. “You want to borrow the book?”
“No thanks, I’ve little time to read.”
Jessica snatches her smartphone from the table. “In that case, I’ll send you a link.” She taps on its screen. “You can watch a documentary on the link. It was produced by the Oregon Public Broadcasting in association with The Oregon Historical Society.”
https://www.pbs.org/video/oregon-experience-massacre-hells-canyon/
“That’s great.” I lean back and fold my arms. “I’ll watch it on my laptop.” I spear Jessica with a sympathetic gaze. “I think you better go home and sleep.” My voice stays soft but does not hide a hint of concern. “The dark smudges beneath your eyes tell me you’re working too hard.” I give her an imp of a smile. “See you at the nightclub later.”
“Sure.” Jessica rises and hangs the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. “Hot Legs has been having a full house for the entire week.” A tired smile lining her lips, she glides away on ballerina flats, throwing a lingering glance at me. My skin heats.
/end
