The Dark Road (16 page)

‘Help me up, Meili!’ Kongzi shouts.

Meili peeps inside the shelter and sees Kongzi’s penis sticking up under the sheet.

‘No, my hands are dirty,’ Meili says.

Kongzi reaches up, pulls Meili down and presses her hands onto his penis. Reluctantly, she begins to rub it, peering out through a crack in the door at a duck stretching its neck in the sunlight. She glances down at the erection in her hands and feels a warm jolt between her legs. Kongzi squeezes her nipple. Her face flushes. ‘You lecherous pest,’ she says. ‘Can’t you wait until tonight?’

‘Don’t stop,’ Kongzi moans, trying to tug her trousers off. ‘Sit on me, will you?’

The zip of her trousers breaks. She pushes him away and says, ‘Let me go for a pee, then we can do it in the cabin.’

Once she’s lying flat on the heart-shaped sheet inside the cabin of their boat, Kongzi thrusts his penis into her, swivels it about for a while like an oar in a fulcrum, and ejaculates. Meili’s stomach cramps. His sperm is inside me now, she says to herself. Never mind. The IUD will kill them. She breathes a sigh of relief and crosses her legs.

‘This time, I’m sure I’ve planted a son inside you,’ Kongzi says. He ejaculates almost every day now, hoping desperately that one of his seeds will sprout.

‘The ducks have finished their lunch,’ Meili says, pulling her trousers back on. ‘I must spray some water on them.’

‘With what?’ he asks, scratching the mosquito bites on his arms.

‘My mouth. I heard the other day that if you spray them after a feed, it encourages them to preen their feathers. They need to rub themselves every day. It makes them feel good.’

Kongzi sniggers quietly.

‘Oh, don’t be so vulgar! What’s happened to you? I preferred you when you were a schoolteacher and wore a clean suit and a shirt buttoned to the top.’

‘One must adapt to changing circumstances. I’m not a teacher any more, I’m a family planning fugitive.’

‘Well, I won’t let my standards drop. From now on, we must brush our teeth every day. Just look at yours – they’re as brown as rust. When you next go into town, buy three toothbrushes and a tube of Black Sister toothpaste – the advert said it protects against gum disease. And buy some roundworm tablets for Nannan as well. She’s always hungry these days. She probably has ringworm too. Have you seen that red patch on her leg? You can go to the pharmacy after you sell the eggs tomorrow.’

Meili climbs out of the boat and walks to the shelter. A few seconds later, Nannan comes running up searching for something to eat. She stumbles over a ladle and wok lid and bumps into the stove, overturning a pan of boiling gruel straight onto her bare foot. She yells in agony. Meili steps over the pan and scoops her into her arms. Kongzi scrambles up the beach and stares at the large red blister already covering Nannan’s foot and ankle. Meili douses the blister with soy sauce and says, ‘This is serious. We must take her straight to hospital.’

Kongzi carries Nannan to the boat, shouting out to the other islanders, asking if anyone can lend him some cash. Meili runs after him. ‘No, stay here, Meili,’ he says. ‘If you come to the hospital, they’ll put an IUD inside you.’

She watches Kongzi sail Nannan across the river, carry her onto the jetty and disappear into the town. She imagines him carrying her along the road that leads to the hospital. First, they’ll pass the pleasure pond where she took Nannan last month, and watched her pedalling cheerfully in a small plastic boat, her lips and hands blue from the cold, while on a trampoline behind, two girls stared into space, munching sunflower seeds. After the pond, they’ll pass the Empress Yang Guifei Roast Chicken Store, with platters of burnished birds displayed in the front window, then a poky shop cluttered with crates of instant noodles and beer. The smell of roast chicken will follow them to the end of the road, all the way to the hospital forecourt. The entrance lies behind a cluster of large ornamental rocks and a large poster advertising cosmetic surgery. The thought of entering the hospital doors makes Meili sick with fear. To distract her mind, she boils up some water in which she’ll dunk their clothes and sheets to kill the bedbugs that have infested their shelter.

A few hours later, Kongzi returns. Nannan is still sobbing, her left foot now wrapped in bandages. ‘Mum, take the hurt away,’ she cries. ‘It hurts, it hurts!’ Meili squeezes Nannan’s little hand and bursts into tears. ‘Good girl,’ she says. ‘I’ll buy you some instant noodles tomorrow, and a chocolate monkey. I promise.’ At this moment, Meili suddenly realises she’s a mother, and that her body is still connected to Nannan. She can feel the burns on Nannan’s feet as though they were singed into her own skin. She’ll make sure she never comes to harm again. Nannan curls up on Meili’s lap, as hot and limp as a boiled duck.

‘I had to pay two hundred yuan,’ Kongzi says, slumping into his legless chair, ‘just for a few bandages.’

As the sky darkens and the air grows damper, ducks leave the bushes and waddle to the feeding bowls. The feathers they leave on the branches quiver in the cold breeze.

Dai’s two daughters wander up and tell Kongzi that their father wants to have a drink with him.

‘Tell him I can’t tonight. Nannan’s hurt herself.’ Kongzi seldom refuses an invitation to join his neighbours for a drink. Many families have come and gone since they arrived, but their firmest friends are still here. The children spend their days playing together, and the families often eat together at night.

‘The ducks seem to be suffering from cramps,’ Meili says to Kongzi, carrying Nannan into the shelter. ‘We’d better not let them wade in the river.’

The infant spirit watches Father squat down and tune the radio to a different station. A nasal voice whines: ‘Today, prosperity is within everyone’s reach. If you want to turn your dreams into reality, make sure you catch the next edition of
The Road to Wealth
. . .’

‘A man in the waiting room tipped me off about a good job,’ Father tells Mother. ‘It pays seventy yuan a day, lunch included. I’d be painting the jagged mountain behind the town. The authorities have renamed it Mount Yang Guifei. They’ve closed
the quarry and are getting workers to paint the exposed rock face green, in time for a visit next month from the Provincial Tourism Department.’

‘I could do that,’ Mother says, lying down in the shelter, squeezing a flea that’s jumped onto her blue cotton trousers. ‘You could stay here and look after Nannan and the ducks.’

‘No, the spray paint is toxic. It can render women infertile. Two workers passed out from the fumes today. I saw them being carried into the hospital on stretchers.’

‘If they want to hide the quarry scar, why don’t they just plant some trees in front of it?’ Mother asks, pulling down the door curtain to block the draughts.

‘It would take too long. They need it to look presentable before the officials arrive.’

‘This island was clean after the flood. But now there’s so much shit about, it’s becoming infested with mosquitoes again. The Hygiene Department is bound to clamp down on us. I’m fed up with Bo and Juru shitting in the bushes. Why can’t they just dig a hole like everyone else? When the wind blows from the west, the smell is revolting. It’s time we left. I’ve asked around and found out that Heaven Township isn’t far from Foshan Mountain. Let’s pack up and sail south.’

‘You’re not talking about Heaven Township again, are you?’ says Father, scratching a bite on his neck. ‘I won’t leave this island until you get pregnant. We’ve been trying for six months and still nothing’s happened.’

‘Empress Yang Guifei didn’t have any children, did she? It must be something in the water.’

‘Mum, I bury the dead chick in the sand, so why it hasn’t wake up yet?’ Nannan asks. Backlit by the kerosene lamp, her face looks as dark as her hair.

‘It’s having a long sleep,’ says Mother, stroking Nannan’s bandaged foot.

‘Tell Daddy to pull it out,’ Nannan says, her eyes two pools of light in the darkness.

‘I can’t pull it out, Nannan,’ Father says, resting his head on his bent knees.

‘Mum, flowers don’t have eyes, so why do they die?’

‘Because flowers are too pretty for this world.’

‘Daddy said I’m pretty, so I’m going to die soon too?’

Father frowns. ‘Stupid girl, you can’t even write your own name yet. What do you know about death?’

‘Huh! You’re a naughty daddy. I want a different daddy. I hit your neck. See, my dolly is very angry.’

‘Don’t lose your temper with her, Kongzi,’ Mother whispers. ‘Look, Nannan. Your toes are exactly the same shape as mine. Let me clip your nails.’

‘What does lose temper mean, Daddy?’

‘It means to get angry,’ Father says, his tone softening. ‘Yes, I can tell your doll’s angry – her black hair has turned yellow and her brown eyes have turned blue.’

‘Daddy, you trick me. The chick isn’t sleeping. You sold it to a man, and the man is going to eat it for supper. Tell me the truth.’

‘No, I didn’t sell it, Nannan. Perhaps your little chick woke up and flew into the sky.’ Father switches on his torch and opens a copy of
Confucius and Neo-Confucianism
.

‘The chick is not in the sky and not in the trees . . .’ Nannan says, holding back her sobs. ‘Mum, Daddy said I came out your bottom. So I must be very smelly.’

‘No, no, you aren’t smelly,’ Mother says. ‘After you came out, you drank my milk every day, so now you smell milky and sweet.’ Then, glancing back at Father, she says: ‘I can’t believe she’s four already. The years fly by so fast, we never get a moment to stop and enjoy ourselves.’

‘Yes, time has flashed by. If you fall pregnant now, Nannan will be five by the time you give birth, so the baby will be legal.’

‘After today’s accident, I just want to concentrate on Nannan. Tomorrow I’ll take her into town for a ride on the merry-go-round, then I’ll go to the market and see if I can rent another stall.’

KEYWORDS:
Yin forces, silkworm pupae, hunted animal, duck shit, bamboo mat, army tanks.

IN THE DARK
hour before dawn, Meili wakes with a start and feels as though she’s trapped inside a coffin. Last night, as she was falling asleep, Kongzi whispered into her ear, ‘“Autumn shadows linger. / The frost is delayed. / Lotus leaves withering on the pond / listen to the patter of rain,”’ then climbed on top of her. Rain is rattling on the shelter’s roof, sounding like dried beans dropping into a metal bowl. Gusts of wind sweep water from the trees and send it crashing onto the tarpaulin in heavy sheets. Meili closes her eyes and waits for the storm to reach its peak. As lightning flashes through the black sky and thunder shakes the ground, Kongzi rolls on top of her again. ‘Be kind . . . to me . . . Kongzi,’ she mumbles. ‘I don’t want to . . . fall pregnant . . .’ Her hands linked behind his neck, she holds onto him, tighter and tighter, until her body is so compressed and her lungs so empty, she feels she is drowning. She opens her mouth and gasps for air. The alcohol on Kongzi’s breath makes her stomach turn, but she can’t escape it. She senses herself sinking into the ground as his jolting body weighs down on her. ‘It’s pouring outside. I must . . . bring in those pickles . . . I left to dry on the hutch.’ Desperately she tries to push him off.

To avoid having intercourse with him every night, Meili often goes to sleep on the boat with Nannan. She’s terrified of falling pregnant, of the government cutting out from her a piece of flesh as warm as her own, of having to conceal inside her body a contraband object which would grower larger and more visible by the day. She left Kong Village to find freedom, but if she falls pregnant again she knows she will become a hunted animal once more.

After the rooster in the bamboo cage greets the dawn, smaller birds begin to sing in the willows and insects fly out from the reeds. Meili feels a stream of sperm leak out from between her thighs. Am I already done for? she wonders to herself. Her period is three weeks late, and she suspects that her IUD might have fallen out.

She sits up and looks at the imprint of the bamboo mat on Kongzi’s forehead. He’s grown so familiar to her, he almost looks like a stranger. She wants to shout, ‘I’m pregnant! Are you happy now?’ but stops herself just in time. If she is pregnant, she wonders whether she could induce a miscarriage by lifting heavy objects or encouraging Kongzi to make love to her more aggressively than usual. She crawls outside and puts on a T-shirt. Her breasts feel heavy and tender and she can detect a sour taste in her mouth. Yes, I have all the symptoms. As her bare feet press into the sand, images from the past flit through her mind. She sees the winter morning she first set eyes on Kongzi, walking up to her wearing a yellow down jacket like a promise of a golden future. The first time he asked to meet her in the woods, her legs trembled with fear. She and Kongzi crouched in the dark shade of a tree beside a group of gravestones. He gave her some peanuts and said he’d invite her to a film in the county town and take her out for a meal. He told her a friend of his had opened a Sichuan restaurant on the ground floor of the County Cultural Centre which served beef poached in hot chilli oil and Chongqing hotpot. She remembers the photograph of Kongzi as a child, standing next to Teacher Zhou with a big smile on his face. She knows that Kongzi was Teacher Zhou’s favourite pupil, and that in 1989, when he went to stay with him in Beijing, they joined the democracy protests and, on 4 June, stood at a street corner arm in arm and watched the army tanks enter the capital. Now she is Kongzi’s wife. For his sake, she left the village designated on her residence permit and the comfort of their tiled-roofed house. She’d dreamed that if she worked hard, she could open a shop one day and buy a modern apartment in a county town with a flushing toilet and hot shower, like the one owned by Cao Niuniu, the son of Kongzi’s artist friend, Old Cao. She still believes that as long as she avoids another pregnancy, she’ll be able to live a good life one day, and stroll along supermarket aisles wearing nylon tights and high-heeled shoes.