The Boat to Redemption

by Su Tong

  When Father heard Erfu’s shouts he asked, ‘What are we drawing lots for?’

  ‘For the girl,’ I told him. ‘For Huixian.’

  ‘Ridiculous!’ he exclaimed. ‘They can’t do that!’

  ‘Will we send a representative?’

  He paused. ‘I guess so, since it’s a collective matter. We can’t shirk our duty. But they have to know where we stand. If our lot is drawn, they’ll have to draw again. You go.’

  It didn’t take long for the representatives to gather on Sun’s boat. Many of them could not sit still, they were so nervous. The reasons varied. Desheng was afraid he wouldn’t be lucky enough to draw the winning lot. For Six-Fingers Wang it was the opposite. He tried to steel himself against the possibility that he’d actually be too lucky. ‘We already have too many children for our ration of food,’ he said. ‘If the girl came to us, she’d have to eat from a communal supply.’

  Sun Ximing’s wife rebuffed this selfish remark. ‘You needn’t worry that she’d put you in the poor house. Taking care of the girl is a joint responsibility, no matter who she winds up with.’

  After cutting a hole in a shoebox lid, Sun wrapped the box in a red cloth. Then he placed it on the bow and stuck in his hand to draw the first lot. After fishing around for a few seconds he pulled out a white slip. With disappointment in his eyes, he turned to his wife. ‘I told you to do it, but you said no. Women are luckier than men. You should have drawn it.’

  Everyone from barge number one to number six drew out a white slip. Now it was my turn. ‘Is number seven supposed to participate?’ someone asked. ‘What happens if Dongliang draws the winning lot? We can’t turn the girl over to him and his dad. They don’t know how to bring up a child.’

  Disgusted by their attitude, I said, ‘What makes you think we can’t? I’m drawing, whether you want me to or not.’

  Sun’s wife stepped up to smooth things over. ‘Dongliang,’ she said, ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you. We’re only thinking of what’s best for you.’

  ‘Will it count if I draw the winning lot?’ I asked.

  Placed in an awkward situation, she stared at the box. ‘What are the chances, anyway?’ she remarked. ‘Go ahead, give it a try, since you’re here.’

  I rolled up my sleeves and thrust my hand into the box. You can guess what happened. To everyone’s astonishment, I pulled out a coloured slip with a drawing of a little girl with dark eyes and pigtails tied up with big ribbons. It was signed in a juvenile scrawl: ‘Huixian.’ I’d won.

  I held it high and stared at Sun Ximing. ‘Well?’ I said excitedly. ‘I got it. Now what?’

  There was a long moment of silence before someone shouted out, ‘No deal! Put it back and let the rest of us draw.’

  ‘Put it back? What kind of lottery is that? I won’t do it.’

  Everyone stared at me, wondering if I meant what I said. ‘You’re not serious, Dongliang, are you? Keeping it means you have to take her back to your boat. Is that really what you want?’

  I didn’t know what to say. For some reason my face felt burning hot. Still holding the slip up in the air, I didn’t want to give in, but lacked the courage to proceed. Then I heard some of the women laugh strangely, while the men made their opinions known in a confusion of noise.

  Covering his ears with his hands, Sun bellowed, ‘Stop the bickering! You’re giving me a headache.’ Then he looked at me. ‘Dongliang,’ he said warily, ‘why don’t you put that back in and draw again.’ He made as if to take the slip from me, but I pushed his hand away. He stumbled backward, clearly embarrassed. ‘Dongliang,’ he said angrily, ‘you’re holding on to that like it was ten goddamn yuan. This is not something to be taken lightly. In case you haven’t noticed, the masses are opposed to your keeping this slip. Besides, the girl deserves a chance to say if she wants to live on your boat.’

  So now it was up to Huixian. I recall that she was playing cat’s cradle with Xiaofu the whole time. She twirled the thread in her hands, forming beautiful, complicated shapes in the air. ‘I don’t care,’ she announced. ‘It makes no difference to me.’ The nonchalant manner in which she said it belied her young age, and everyone stopped, even me. I hadn’t expected that.

  Sun Ximing’s wife was the first to gather her wits about her. ‘That’s no answer, my little ancestor,’ she said. ‘This is too important for you to say you don’t care.’

  Then Desheng’s wife sidled up to her, anxiously hoping the girl would prefer her. She held a finger up to her face and rolled her eyes as a sign to the girl. Then I heard Yingtao’s mother gloat sarcastically, sensing an opportunity to provoke Sun’s wife. ‘Now can you tell which boat is a good one,’ she pressed her, ‘and which one is bad? You thought the girl liked you best because you have a good boat. Well, she doesn’t think so, and that makes your boat a bad one.’

  A hue and cry erupted on barge number one. The lines were drawn between them and me, and I stood there, half muddleheaded and half alert. I felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the girl, since, sofa or not, she seemed to be the only person in the world who actually liked the people who lived on number seven – the only one. Noting my hesitation, the others began whispering among themselves, trying to figure out what to do.

  Sun’s wife decided to up the ante. ‘If you won’t draw a second lot, then go ahead, take her with you. You’ll be responsible for bringing her up – food, clothing, hygiene, everything. We’ll see how you and your father handle that.’

  ‘Dongliang,’ Desheng said, ‘this is a time for cool heads. You know how to play chess, don’t you? Well, once you move a piece you can’t take it back, and if you lose a game you have only yourself to blame.’

  As for sly old Six-Fingers Wang, he gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder and said something that was totally out of place: ‘I don’t know what you have in mind, but it is too soon to take the girl over to your boat. Wait another ten years or so, and we’ll happily give our approval.’

  People laughed. I pushed Six-Fingers’s hand away and waved my slip in the air. ‘I drew it, it’s mine. Who cares if you approve or not? I’m going to take her with me.’ I reached for Huixian’s hand and said – commanded, actually – ‘Come on, we’re going to our boat.’

  Huixian, who was by then standing in front of me, put both hands behind her back, but there was a smile on her face, and I knew she was egging me on. It wasn’t an overt look of encouragement, but it betrayed a sense of reservation and caution. Then her foot moved towards me, and that told me what was in her heart. She wanted me to take her to number seven.

  ‘Let’s go, off to number seven, to the sofa!’ I said. It was another command, and this time she obeyed me. She scooted over to the deck and the women knew she’d made up her mind; there was nothing they could do about it now. I watched as she flew across the gangplank like a bird freed from a cage, while the people behind us could only gape at our perfect harmony. Some of them snapped out of it and ran up in surprise. ‘Don’t go, Huixian! You mustn’t go to number seven!’

  I turned and shouted, ‘Why not? What’s wrong with number seven, tell me that!’

  By now they’d lined up behind me, tall and short, edgy and fearful. My shout had hit them like a blast of cold air, rendering them speechless. Why not? They didn’t have an answer. Desheng was more familiar with our boat than the others were, and for that reason he was relatively calm. ‘Don’t go after them,’ he said. ‘Dongliang’s just a boy, it’s not his boat. It’s Secretary Ku’s. You can believe me or not, but hear me out. Old Ku is not about to take this girl aboard his boat.’

  He was, unfortunately, right. Huixian ran to the stern of number six, but that was as far as she got. For the first time in ages, my father, who had heard the commotion, was standing on our bow, bent at the waist and smiling at her. But it was a strange, forced smile that frightened her so badly she didn’t know what to do.

  ‘Little comrade,’ he said, ‘do as they say. You don’t want to come to our boat. We’ve got
a tiger aboard.’

  ‘Liar,’ she said. ‘Tigers don’t live on boats.’

  ‘Maybe not other boats,’ he said, ‘but they do on ours. This one comes out at night to eat up little girls.’

  In a gesture that was both comical and ugly, Father pretended to be a tiger, reaching out his hands like claws, and roared. Huixian shrieked in fright and jumped back. But then she held her ground and looked hatefully into Father’s face. ‘An old man like you shouldn’t do that,’ she said. ‘You’re disgusting.’ Pointing contemptuously at him, she said, ‘I know you’re lying. You just don’t like me. Well, I don’t care. Lots of other people do. What’s so good about your boat anyway?’ With that she spun around, and ran back to where I was standing. ‘You’re disgusting, too. Who said you could take me with you? Who cares about your rotten old boat?’

  I tried to block her way, but she slipped between my legs and ran back, straight into the arms of Sun Ximing’s wife.

  Sighs of relief all around. I looked at my father, who was scowling at me. The anger in his eyes made me shiver, so I turned, just in time to see Huixian move from the arms of Sun’s wife into those of Desheng’s wife. They were protecting her like a galaxy of stars around the moon as they headed back to number one. I couldn’t tell if Huixian was crying or not, but they were fussing over her to make her feel better, all talking at once. There was a tiger on boat number seven. There really was. A tiger, an old tiger.

  Father and I stared at each other across the water, boat to boat, exchanging angry glares. Tiger, tiger, there’s a tiger on our boat. You’re the tiger. The vague outline of a large, striped cat took form behind him. The sudden illusion took my breath away! With my head down, I boarded our boat, where I was greeted by a repeat of Six-Fingers Wang’s comment. ‘What’s in that head of yours? How old are you, and how old is she? Don’t you think it’s a bit early to be bringing her on to our boat?’

  I’d never been so disgusted with my father, and that disgust found its way into a careless outburst: ‘Why’d you come outside anyway? With only half a dick, why didn’t you stay in the cabin where you belong? You shame me by showing your face!’

  I turned and walked towards the cabin, with my arms over my head in anticipation of a bamboo staff raining down on me. But I made it all the way to the cabin without Father doing a thing. So I cautiously turned to look behind me, where he was sitting on a coiled hawser on the bow, trembling. They had taken Huixian away by then, and the clamour had left with them. Now all I could see was my father, sitting there trembling as if he’d been struck by lightning.

  I’d used the most vicious words I knew to humiliate him, which worried and shamed me. How would he punish me when he was feeling better? I had a guilty conscience, but so did he, and his was worse than mine. I went astern to take a leak off the fantail. Then I opened the slip of paper I’d drawn and looked down at Huixian’s juvenile drawing. After folding it into the shape of an arrow, I blew on it and sent it flying, watching as it struggled to stay aloft above the river before it fell silently into the water, where it was swamped by a wave. The only way I knew to express the sense of grief and anger I felt at that moment was to roar at the river, ‘Kongpi! Kongpi!’

  Mother

  HUIXIAN WAS hung out aboard Sun Ximing’s boat during her early days with the fleet. Sun and his wife, her new parents, did not scrimp on food or clothing for her. She dressed better than Dafu and Erfu, and ate better food. With the eyes of people from all eleven barges on them, would they dare do less? No, they treated her like royalty. Both their burden and their glory, she was unimaginably spoiled; her moist eyes shone like diamonds some of the time and were hidden behind a curtain of dark clouds at other times. But a modest degree of happiness could not overcome a troubled heart. Everyone knew why she spent so much time with her eyes fixed on the shore. She was waiting for her mother to show up.

  There was always the chance that the woman would appear on the river or in Milltown or Phoenix or Horsebridge. Unfamiliar women did, from time to time, board barges in the fleet to sell used clothing or pumpkins or leeks; there was even a young country woman who came aboard Desheng’s barge with a basket of corn over her back, who, perhaps inspired by the gun-running legend of the martyr Deng Shaoxiang, hid a baby girl in the bottom of her basket. After selling the corn, she shook the basket and the baby’s head popped into view. ‘I hear you people want a little girl, but can’t find one. Well, I don’t want this one,’ she said to Desheng. ‘You can have her for thirty yuan.’

  In shocked disbelief, Desheng drove her off his boat. His wife, unable even to look at the little girl, berated the woman. ‘I’ve never seen such a hateful woman,’ she said. ‘And you call yourself a mother! You haggle over the price of your corn, but when it comes to your own flesh and blood, all you want is for someone to take her off your hands.’

  The world is populated by all sorts of mothers, but none of them was Huixian’s. No matter how long she waited, the boat people – men and women, old and young – knew she was destined to be disappointed, yet no one spoke of it. The children were warned to keep such talk to themselves; the secret must be guarded. Meanwhile, the adults pooled their wisdom and experience to rescue poor Huixian from her vain dream.

  To that end it was necessary to erase all traces of the memories she held of the woman who had abandoned her. Sun Ximing’s wife, who was responsible for Huixian’s day-to-day activities, agonized over how to remove the army raincoat from the girl’s life. Everyone knew she could not sleep unless she was covered by it, for, they assumed, it retained her mother’s smell. Sun’s wife racked her brains to find a way out of this dilemma. Every time she put the coat away and covered Huixian with a regular blanket instead, the girl caused a scene. Sun’s wife even bought a nice woollen blanket embroidered with peonies for her, but that failed too; Huixian demanded the return of her raincoat to use along with the blanket. ‘My little ancestor,’ Sun’s wife said in frustration, ‘you’re harder to please than the empress herself. If you keep insisting on covering yourself with that raincoat, people will talk. They’ll say that even impoverished children in the old society had tattered blankets on their beds, while a little flower of the motherland like you uses a raincoat. If you insist on covering yourself with both, the new blanket will pick up the bad smell of your raincoat. I don’t mind, but people will say your adoptive mother doesn’t care if you suffocate.’

  As if that weren’t enough, a dangerous, unwarranted and virtually unstoppable trend persisted. No one was willing to shatter Huixian’s dream of seeing her mother again, so the adults made a rule for the children: if she hit them, they were not to hit back, and if she called them names, they were to keep quiet. But in the heat of an argument, children cannot be counted on to avoid saying what mustn’t be said. More to the point, in order to keep their secret, the adults and children fabricated a tale that Huixian’s mother was still alive and would return for her one day. And so when Huixian was in a bad mood, she would rail defiantly at Sun Ximing and his wife, ‘You hate me. I want to go ashore to find my mother.’

  The couple willingly took the girl on a pretend search for her mother whenever they went ashore; it was something they had to do, though it was hard to keep the story up. They came to our barge with old newspapers and asked my father to write missing-persons posters, which they then pasted up on street corners, with Dafu responsible for pasting and Erfu for putting them up. Once that was done, they inquired at government offices. If they forgot, Huixian quickly reminded them. ‘We can’t go back until we’ve checked with the authorities, can we? Maybe my mother is waiting for me in one of those offices.’

  The ruse was hard to maintain, and it was exhausting. But the alternative was never considered. They were afraid Huixian would go ashore on her own and cause trouble, so for some reason they thought of me. One day they brought her over to number seven and said to her, ‘How about letting Dongliang take you this time? He can read and knows the bureaucratic ins and outs better than any
body. Since we haven’t been able to find your mother, let’s give him a try.’ Sun Ximing reddened and signalled me not to give anything away.

  Having no idea what was in my heart, they wrote me off as hateful and cruel behind my back, and yet the warm feelings I felt towards Huixian never left me. I’d cleverly masked my fondness for her. I welcomed the thought of doing something for her, but Sun must have taken me for an idiot, asking me to go ashore to find a ghost. Not only was it stupid, it was a blow to my self-respect, and I was just about to tell him so when Huixian reached out and took me by the arm. Her little hand was pink and plump, its nails painted a pretty red, thanks to the women, and it looked like a flower blossoming on my arm. Her dark eyes turned to me, not in a pleading fashion, but sort of charitable and proud. ‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘You can relax with me.’ Then, assuming the wise, knowing tone of an adult, she said, ‘We don’t need to rush. It’s OK if we don’t find her right away.’

  Knowing I could not refuse that outstretched hand, I took her to Milltown, a trip that gave me the chance to toughen myself up emotionally. It was important to keep that well-intentioned lie fresh in my mind, and to learn how to look after a little girl. Though younger than I was, Huixian was more cunning and more wilful. She was also a lot worse off. Those were my reasons for wanting to look after her.

  All sorts of little problems cropped up on our way from the barge to the shore. First of all, I needed to avoid her hand. She’d got used to holding people’s hands, and now she wanted to hold mine. But how was I supposed to walk on shore hand-in-hand with a girl? I started by walking ahead of her, telling her to stay close behind me. Then I thought about what my father always told me, which was to take pleasure in helping others. My primary concern, of course, was her safety. The piers were congested with commodities and crowds of people, and I was afraid she might get lost. So I let her go ahead. ‘Turn left, go straight on, halt.’ I sounded like a drill sergeant. At first she couldn’t distinguish between left and right, but she wasn’t stupid, and she got the idea after a few false starts, which made her happy. When we came to a junction, she’d halt, turn to look at me and ask, ‘Left or right?’