"Is this Asian lying?" the mayor asked the crowd. "Or is she stupid?" "Let me ask you a question," shouted Tram to the mayor, before turning to the members of the crowd. "What is easier to do? Is it easier to describe the color of the clothes that the mayor is wearing, or is it easier to say that he is wearing no clothes at all?" This shut them up, and they could not give a direct answer to her question.
One of them said, "The color of the clothing is like nothing I have ever seen before, therefore I cannot describe what I am seeing, so I cannot answer the question." Tram smirked when she heard this reply. "None of you gave me a direct answer," said Tram, turning towards the mayor. "So neither will I answer your question." The members of the crowd were utterly infuriated by this answer. "One of them shouted, "Send her back to China!" Another one shouted, "Stone this liar!" Some of them picked up bits of rotten fruit to throw at her. The mayor turned to his guards and said to them, "Arrest her!"
Tram scoffed at this notion. "Guys, let's not do anything radical," Tram shouted at them. "We can work things out." Doan, who was Tram's mother, was not far away from where Tram was standing. She approached her daughter and said, "Why can't you keep your mouth shut?""Because I was trying to teach a lesson to these idiots," Tram hastily replied. "We have to leave now!" shouted Doan to Tram, grabbing her daughter by the hand. The mayor wasn't going to let them go that easily. "Do you think I'm going to let you two get away with trying to humiliate me that easily?" the mayor complained to the two. "I am truly sorry regarding the actions of my daughter," replied an insincere Doan. She really wanted to curse the mayor. "You're lucky that I'm not sending your daughter to prison," yelled the mayor.
Doan took her daughter to her doorstep of their shop. Doan worked there as a spinster, spinning yarn into string. Tram expected Doan to open the door of the house so they could enter it, but that was not what happened. Doan counted out gold coins taken from her purse and put them in a moneybag. She took Tram aside and began to have a special conversation with her, giving Tram the moneybag.
"Your father's fearless and reckless nature got him killed," said Doan, handing Tram a dagger. "You must go out into the world to learn what fear is." "But if I am gone, then who will look after you?" replied Tram. "Your older sister Phan will look after me," said Doan. "I think Phan will have to inherit our business. It's just that you never seem to have time to do anything, except to play your violin." Tram bowed to pay her respects to her mother. Then she rose up and began to walk away.
"Wait just one moment," commanded Doan. "Where are you going again?" "To go to the music festival in Bremen!" replied Tram. "It's going to be so much fun isn't it?" "You're going to learn what fear is!" shouted Doan. "You're going to tell me what you have learned about fear when you come back."
So Tram left her family, waved goodbye to her mother, and wandered all around Australia so she could learn the meaning of fear. Tram wandered for miles and miles, and soon she reached the goldfields. The goldfields were places where gold diggers from all around the world would search for gold. There were many ways one could search for gold. One way of looking for gold was to scrape for it by a river, with a pan. Tram walked by a river and tossed her gold coins into the air as she did so.
There were many people panning for gold by a shallow river. One of them was Hans. He was panning for gold using a rusty frying pan. He used the frying pan to scrape up sediment at the bottom of the river, and he examined the sediment. There were others that were panning for gold as well. Many of them were Chinese immigrants who came to Australia to find gold.
Hans heard the sound of gold coins jingling, so he turned towards Tram and saw her toss the gold coins into the air. Hans stood up and followed her. He walked by her side, unsure whether she was male or female, but he correctly guessed that Tram was a woman even though many male Asians had ponytails. "Hello my friend, what's your name?" asked a conniving Hans. "My name is Tram," replied Tram, who was totally unaware of Hans' conniving nature. "What's yours?" "My name is Hans Westergaard," said Hans. "I'm an aspiring restaurateur. I'm sure you've heard of the name Hans Westergaard before." "I'm sorry, but I have not," replied Tram. "Well, I thought that might have been the case," scoffed Hans. "You're of Asian descent, and Asians know nothing about the elegance of managing a great restaurant." Tram had her moneybag with her so Hans asked her about the moneybag, saying, "What is inside that bag?" "There are 30 pieces of gold inside this bag" Tram told him, having forgotten her mother's advice not to share financial information with strangers. "Have you considered using the money to buy a vineyard?" asked Hans, in an excited manner. "You can buy a vineyard and set up a restaurant there." "Vineyard work is not my calling," replied Tram. "Neither is restaurant work. I'm going to the music festival in Bremen to make a name for myself."
There was a disappointed look on Hans face because it was not the answer Hans was hoping for. Then, Tram asked Hans another question. "What is fear like?" asked Tram. "I know what fear is like but I don't know how to respond to that question," responded Hans, who was very perplexed regarding why Tram would ask him such a question. "No one has ever asked me what fear is like. Are you trying to be funny?" "No, I've just never known fear," said Tram. "I'd be eternally grateful if you could show me the meaning of fear. I'd do anything for you if you could teach me the meaning of fear." Hans eagerly raised his hand and slapped Tram on the cheek. "That really hurt!" complained Tram. "What is your problem? Why did you hit me?" "You wanted to know the meaning of fear," said Hans, who was sure that Tram must have felt a little fear. "Surely you were afraid when you saw me raise my hand." "I'm sorry, but I wasn't at all afraid," promised Tram. "I'd give you my sack of gold if you could make me afraid."
"Fine," said Hans, who saw a great opportunity. "Close your eyes." Tram did as she was told. Hans did not tell her to close her eyes in order to frighten her. He told her to close her eyes in order to steal her bag of gold. Hans reached out his hands, tickled her, and tried to grab her bag of gold. He managed to wrestle the bag of gold out of her hands by almost breaking her arm. Then he ran, laughing as he ran. Tram realized that her gold was gone, so she chased after him. In front of Hans there stood two policemen.
Upon seeing the police, Hans leapt off the footpath and ran downhill. He tripped on a broken tree branch while running downhill and rolled into the river at the bottom of the valley. The bag of coins sunk to the bottom of the river. Hans was now soaking wet, but he still tried desperately to find his bag of coins. He took a deep breath and searched the bottom of the river for his gold.
Hans thought he saw a log moving in the water, almost as if it were alive. "Surely it can't be a crocodile," Hans thought to himself. "There shouldn't be any crocodiles in Victoria." There was definitely a crocodile in the river because Hans could see its massive jaws opening. It had a rope tied to one of its legs, and a name tag was attached to the end of the rope. The crocodile could have escaped from a circus or a zoo. Hans leapt out of the water like a dolphin and ran for his life.
Even though Tram had no more money left she continued walking to her destination. She noticed the doors of a church opening so she went inside the church. She wanted to rest her legs. There was a funeral procession going on inside the church, and Hans was one of the mourners. His clothes were in tatters like they had been shredded by a crocodile, and he looked even sicker than usual. His boots looked as if they had holes in them, and you could see his big toes sticking out of them. Although Hans appeared to be very sad, he did not cry. There was a woman next to him, crying hysterically, and her two daughters were next to her. That woman was not his wife.
She was a widow, and the corpse that was in the coffin was what was left of her husband. Hans looked at that woman with pity in his eyes. There weren't many mourners who were at the funeral procession.
Apart from those people, who I have already mentioned, there was also a certain old lady who was also at the funeral. Tram could tell that the old lady was not at all sad. In fact, that old lady appeared to be holding back a smile. The old lady certainly tried to look sad, but she was not at all successful. When the priest finished speaking most of the mourners began to leave the church. The priest spoke a few words to the widow and then exited the church with her and her children. Tram stayed behind in the church. So did that old lady.
Hans also stayed inside the church, hoping to find something of value to steal. He did not find any gold or silver so he did not steal anything. The only things of material value inside the church lay inside the coffin. He wondered whether he should steal from the coffin. Before Hans could decide whether to steal from the corpse, the old lady approached the corpse.
The old lady, who had stayed inside the church, had a pointy chin and a wart on her pointy nose. She reached her hands out to the corpse and began to empty out the pockets of the dead person who lay inside the coffin. Hans saw the old lady do this, but he did not try to stop her. The old lady did look quite poor, after all, because she was dressed in rags.
Hans' friend was dead. Why did it matter if his friend's physical body was being desecrated? After all, dead is dead. "Who are you, and what do you think you're doing?" shouted an angry Tram to the old lady. "I'm only taking what is rightfully my own," said the old lady pointing to the corpse in the coffin. "I am this man's publisher. I am responsible for publishing one of his poems."
"I don't care if you're his publisher," cried Tram, hoping that the woman would just get out of her sight. "I just want you to leave him alone!" "He promised to pay me money to publish his poetry, but he couldn't pay me anything," argued the old lady. "That still gives you no right to do this," said Tram furiously. Tram could see that the old lady did not want to loot the corpse because she was poor and desperate, but rather so she could spite the man who had died. The old lady took out a pocket watch and a small notepad from the waistcoat of the dead man. The notepad contained many of the dead man's bush poetry. She put these items inside an old knapsack. Tram handed the old lady the violin that she owned, hoping that the violin would be able to satisfy the old lady's greed.