The Night Tiger

by Yangsze Choo

With the zhi in my name for wisdom, and xin in Shin’s for integrity, we made up part of a matched set, though the fact that it was incomplete was a bit jarring.

Malaya, with its mix of Malays, Chinese, and Indians, is full of spirits: a looking-glass world governed by unsettling rules. The

European werewolf is a man who, when the moon is full, turns his skin inside out and becomes a beast. He then leaves the village and goes into the forest to kill. But for the natives here, the weretiger is not a man, but a beast who, when he chooses, puts on a human skin and comes from the jungle into the village to prey on humans. It’s almost exactly the reverse situation, and in some ways more disturbing. There’s a rumour that when we colonials came to this part of the world, the natives considered us beast-men as well, though nobody has said that to my face.

Clutching the windowsill like a life buoy, Ren wonders what secrets lurk in the jungle surrounding them, and if his old master is in fact doomed to roam this vast green expanse forever, trapped in the form of a tiger.

but the men are enthusiastic. This is what they have come East for: adventures like tigers in the garden, Oriental dancing girls, and cobras in their beds.