Frog (28 page)

Get out, Chen Bi said. If I could use my arms, your stupid heads would taste my spear.

There was no better time to leave. We scooped up the flowers, which were spewing a low-grade fragrance, and were on our way out when the nurse walked in with a man in a white smock. She introduced him to us as the assistant director for finances, and us to him as Bed 9’s visitors. He presented us with a bill totalling more than twenty thousand yuan, including emergency room treatment. He stressed the fact that this was their base cost; the normal computation would be much, much higher. Chen Bi was in full foul throat while this was going on: Get out of here, you profiteer, you and your exorbitant fees, you bunch of corpse-eating maggots. You mean nothing to me. He swung his good arm, banging it into the wall, and then felt around on the nightstand for a bottle, which he picked up and flung over to the bed opposite, hitting a critically old man who was getting an IV. Get out. This hospital is my daughter’s and you’re her hired help. One word from me and your rice bowl will be shattered.

Just as things were getting out of hand, Sensei, a woman in a black dress and veil walked into the ward. You’d know who it was without my telling you. That’s right, it was Chen Bi’s second daughter, the one who’d survived the fire at the toy factory, but was horribly disfigured.

Chen Mei drifted in like a spectre, the black dress and veil introducing mystery and a hellish gloom into the ward. The uproar came to an abrupt stop, like pulling the plug on a noisy machine. Even the stuffy heat turned to chill. A bird on the lily magnolia tree called out softly.

We couldn’t see her face, or an inch of skin anywhere. Only her figure was visible, the long limbs of a fashion model. But we knew it was Chen Mei. Little Lion and I instinctively thought back to the infant in swaddling clothes of more than twenty years before. She nodded to us, then said to the assistant director: I am his daughter. I will pay what he owes you.

Sensei, I have a friend in Beijing, a burn specialist at the Number 304 Hospital, a man with the stature of an academician, who told me that the mental anguish burn victims experience may be worse than the physical pain. The intense shock and unspeakable agony of seeing their ruined faces in the mirror for the first time is nearly impossible to endure. Such people need incomparable courage to go on living.

Sensei, people are products of their environment. Under certain circumstances, a coward can be transformed into a warrior, a bandit can perform kind deeds, and someone too stingy to spend the smallest coin might part with a large sum. Her appearance on the scene and the courage it took shamed us, and that shame manifested itself in a willingness to spend our money on a good cause. Li Shou was first, and then us. We all said, Good niece Chen Mei, we’ll take care of your father’s expenses.

Thank you for your generous offer, she said unemotionally, but we have been in so many people’s debt we’ll never be able to clear the accounts.

Get out! Chen Bi bellowed. You black-veiled devil. How dare you palm yourself off as my daughter! One of my daughters is a student in Spain, romantically involved with a Prince, and will soon be married. The other is in Italy, where she has bought Europe’s oldest winery, from where a ten-thousand-ton ship with the finest wine is sailing to China.

Sensei, I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t even started to write the play you’ve been patiently waiting for. There’s just so much material I feel a bit like the dog that wants to bite Mount Tai, but doesn’t know where to start. When I’m thinking about the play, something related to the theme and rich with possibilities will crop up in my life and interrupt my train of thought. But what has made it especially hard is my inadvertent involvement in a very troublesome matter. I don’t know how to extricate myself, or, more precisely, how to play the role expected of me.

Sensei, I think you’ve already guessed what that is. What I revealed to you earlier was not fantasy, but actual fact: Little Lion has admitted that she stole my tadpole-like sperm and implanted them in the body of Chen Mei, who is now carrying my child. That made my blood boil, and I slapped her hard out of uncontrollable rage. I know that was wrong, especially since someone who claims to be a playwright ought not to be guilty of such savage behaviour. But, I tell you, Sensei, I was out of my mind with anger.

After returning from my raft ride with Young Flathead, I did some investigating of my own. Each time I went to the bullfrog farm I was turned away by their security guards, so I tried phoning Yuan Sai and my cousin, but they both had new cell phone numbers. I demanded an answer from Little Lion, who just mocked me and called me crazy. I printed out the surrogate mother details from the bullfrog company’s website and took them to the municipal family-planning committee. They took my report, but nothing came of it. I next went to the police, where I was told this was not in their jurisdiction. I tried the mayor’s hotline, and was told that my report would be on the mayor’s desk. That’s how it went for the next few months, Sensei, and by the time I finally got the truth out of Little Lion, the foetus in Chen Mei’s belly was six months along. And so a fifty-five-year-old man was muddling along on the path to becoming another infant’s father. Unless the dangerous and cruel ingestion of a drug ended the pregnancy, my fatherhood was a done deal. That is how, as a young man, I’d caused the death of my first wife, Renmei, the most painful thing I’d ever done, a sinful act for which I may never achieve atonement. Now, even if I harden my heart, Sensei, it won’t make any difference, because I’ve been refused entry into the farm, and even if I managed to get inside, they wouldn’t let me see Chen Mei. I’ll bet there’s a labyrinth of secret passages there, an underground maze, not to mention the probability, according to Little Lion and my own suspicions, that Yuan Sai and my cousin are underworld figures. If you push them, there’s nothing they’re incapable of – family or strangers, it wouldn’t make any difference.

My slap sent Little Lion stumbling backward. She sat down hard and her nose bled. Not a sound from her for a long moment; instead of crying, she gave me a cold sneer. That was a good one, Xiaopao, she said, you thug! If that’s what you’re capable of, then a dog has eaten your conscience. I did this for you, she said. You have a daughter, but no son, and you should have an heir. I’ve long regretted not being able to give you a son, and having someone else bear your child is the only way I can make that up to you. A son will carry on your bloodline, extend your family for future generations. But instead of thanking me, you hit me. I’m crushed.

Then she cried, her tears merging with the blood from her nose, a sight that broke my heart. I was the one with the broken heart, but the anger rose in me again – for something this important, she should have told me.

I know you’re unhappy over the sixty thousand yuan I spent, she said between sobs. You needn’t worry, I’ll pay that out of my retirement money. And you won’t have to care for the baby, I’ll do that. All in all, this has nothing to do with you. I read in the paper that they give a hundred yuan each time to sperm donors. I’ll give you three hundred for being a donor, and you can return to Beijing. Divorce me if you want, or not. Either way, this has nothing to do with you. But, she wiped her face and said in the tone of a martyred warrior, if you’re thinking of stopping the birth of this child, I’ll kill myself in front of you.

Sensei, you have seen in my letters what kind of woman Little Lion is. When she was travelling all around with Gugu, encountering all sorts of people, she developed a disposition I’d have to call half heroic–half thuggish. The woman is capable of just about anything when she’s provoked. It was up to me to find the best way to deal with this thorny problem, but with affection and reason.

The thought of inducing labour did cross my mind, but that gave me a cold, ominous feeling; and yet, it seemed to be the ideal solution. It was clear to me that money was the only reason Chen Mei would carry someone else’s baby, so why not use money to solve the problem? That struck me as perfectly logical. The hard part was finding a way to see Chen Mei.

I hadn’t seen her since that meeting in Chen Bi’s hospital room. Her figure covered by a black dress, her face hidden behind a black veil, and her mysterious comings and goings convinced me that a world of mystery existed right here in Northeast Gaomi Township, a world populated by errant knights, psychics, and some who conceal their faces.

I thought back to a short time before, when I’d given Li Shou five thousand yuan to help pay Chen’s hospital bill, and asked him to pass it on to Chen Mei. A few days later, Li returned the money to me, money Chen Mei refused to take. Maybe, I thought, she is carrying other people’s babies to earn what she needs to pay her father’s bill herself. Now my thoughts were going every which way – this is nothing but . . . damn you, Little Lion! All I could do was go see Li Shou, since he had the best mind among all us classmates.

We met in a corner of the Don Quixote café yesterday morning, when the square was crawling with people gathered to watch the performance of Unicorns Deliver the Babies. The fake Sancho Panza brought us two glasses of beer and wisely made himself scarce, his ambiguous smile a sign that he guessed what we were talking about. When I stammered my problem to him, Li Shou had a good laugh.

You’re making fun of my bad luck, I said, showing my displeasure.

He held out his glass and clinked it against mine, then took a big drink. You call yours bad luck? he exclaimed. It’s wonderful news. Congratulations! A son in old age, life’s great joy!

Don’t mock me, I said anxiously. I may have retired, but I’m still a public servant, and how am I supposed to deal with the organisation if I have another child?

Why talk about the organisation, or your job assignment, old friend? You’re tying yourself up with your own rope. What you’re looking at is, your sperm and an egg have come together to create a new life that will come crying into the world. The greatest joy in life is watching the birth of a child who carries your genes, because that is an extension of your own life —

The problem is, I cut him off, where will I go to get this new life registered?

How can you let a little matter like that bother you? That’s all in the past. These days, there’s nothing money won’t buy. Besides, even if you can’t get him registered, he’ll still be a living human being, with all the rights every human being enjoys.

Enough, my friend, I came here for help and all I get is empty talk. Since I’ve been back I’ve discovered that all you people, educated or not, talk like stage actors. Where’d you learn that?

He laughed. We live in a civilised society, and in a civilised society everyone is an actor – film, TV, drama, crosstalk, sketch – we’re all acting. Don’t they say that all the world’s a stage?

Please, no more crazy talk, I said. Come up with something. You don’t want me calling Chen Bi father-in-law, do you?

What would happen if you did? Would the sun stop shining? Would the world stop spinning? Let me tell you something: Don’t think the rest of the world is concerned about you or that everybody has their eyes on you. People have their own problems, and they couldn’t care less about yours. Having a son with Chen Bi’s daughter or a daughter with some other woman is your business. Nosey people spreading gossip is as transient as floating clouds. The primary issue here is, the child will be your flesh and blood and you’re the big winner.

But me and Chen Bi . . . there’s something incestuous about it!

Bullshit! There’s no common blood, so where’s the incest? And as far as age goes, that’s even less to worry about. When an eighty-year-old man marries an eighteen-year-old, it’s talked about like a fairytale. You’ve never even seen Chen Mei’s body. She’s a tool you’re renting for a while, and that’s all. In the end, my friend, don’t worry so much, give yourself a break. Go get yourself in shape, so you can start raising your son.

You’re wasting your breath, I said as I pointed to the fever blisters covering my lips. See that? I’m begging you, for the sake of an old classmate, take a message to Chen Mei to terminate the pregnancy. She’ll still get the fee for carrying the baby, plus an additional ten thousand to make up for what it costs her physically. If she thinks that’s not enough, I’ll double the bonus.

What for? Since you’re willing to spend that much money, wait till the child is born, then use it to get the child registered, and go be a proper father.

I won’t be able to deal with the organisation.

You have too high an opinion of yourself, Li chided. I tell you, my friend, the organisation doesn’t have time to worry about your piddling affairs. Just who do you think you are? Aren’t you just someone who’s written a couple of lousy plays no one has ever seen? Do you see yourself as a member of some royal family whose son’s birth should be celebrated nationally?

A group of backpacking tourists popped their heads in at the entrance, and were immediately greeted by a smiling fake Sancho Panza. I lowered my voice. I’ll never ask you for anything else as long as I live.

He folded his arms and shook his head to show there was nothing he could do.

Shit, damn you. You’ll just stand by and watch me get buried alive, is that it?

You’re asking me to commit murder, he said softly. At six months a foetus is ready to shout Papa through its mother’s belly.

Will you help me or won’t you?

What makes you think I can get in to see Chen Mei?

You can see Chen Bi at least. You can ask him to pass the word to her.

Seeing Chen Bi is no problem, Li said. He’s out begging in front of the Fertility Goddess Temple every day. When the sun sets, he brings what he made here to buy liquor and pick up a loaf of bread. You can wait for him here or you can go looking for him there. But I hope you won’t need to tell him, because you’ll just be wasting your breath. And if you’ve got a bit of compassion in you, you won’t add to his anguish with something like this. My experience over the past few years has concluded that the best way to solve a thorny problem is to quietly observe how it evolves and let nature take its course.

All right, then, I said, I’ll let nature take its course.

When the child’s a month old, I’ll throw a party to celebrate.