The Boat to Redemption

by Su Tong

  At times my body felt hot all over as I sat there guarding my secret, and at other times I turned cold and stiff. The barbershop was open to the public, so why couldn’t I saunter in like everybody else? I had no answer. I was sitting there because of Huixian, gentler than anyone could imagine, but also gloomier. For eleven years I’d fallen under the constant scrutiny of my father, and the shore was the only place where I could escape his radar-like vision. These were the times when I tasted true freedom, and I put this precious time to good use, keeping a supervisory eye on Huixian – no, supervisory isn’t the right word. ‘Guarding’ is more like it, or, even better, ‘watching over’. Neither job, of course, was by rights mine, but for some strange reason it had become second nature.

  Men were always entering and leaving the barbershop, and I could easily spot those who had something other than a haircut in mind. But was I any different? Maybe not. Probably not. I’d started going ashore wearing two pairs of underwear as a hedge against an ill-timed erection. That proves that I did have something in mind, and it was a worrisome thought. Wearing two pairs of underwear was proof of my sinful nature, and timidity and restlessness were a by-product of impure thoughts. Sometimes I got a fortuitous glance through the display window of Huixian standing behind her barber’s chair. More frequently, all I saw was her white moving image. Near her, I yet remained far away, and that was an ideal distance to lure me into dreaming up scenarios which frightened me yet brought me great pleasure: I imagined the conversations she had with the people in the shop, what made her frown and what made her smile; I imagined why she treated X with such warmth and Y with such aloofness; when she was at rest, I imagined what she was thinking; on those occasions when she was moving, I imagined the shape of her legs and buttocks; and when she was working on a client’s hair, I imagined the swift, agile movements of her fingers on the clippers. The one thing I would not let myself imagine was her body, though that was sometimes beyond my control, and then I limited my visualizations to the areas above her neck and below her knees. When even that was impossible, I forced myself to go over and stare at a dustbin on which someone had written the word kongpi. Could that have been a warning to me? If so, it was an effective sign. I read the word aloud three times – kongpi, kongpi, kongpi – lowering the temperature of my sex organ. An embarrassing sense of excitement mysteriously evaporated.

  Spring arrived in May, with warm temperatures and flowers blooming at the base of the walls that lined the streets: Chinese roses, cockscombs and evening primrose. Even the sunflowers by the entrance to the People’s Barbershop were in full bloom. As I walked past the entrance, one of the big golden flowers actually struck me in the leg – lightly, to be sure, but it got me thinking about the past; since it was a sunflower, I had to believe this was either a hint or an invitation. How could I be unmoved? Unprecedented courage dropped on to me out of the sky. I got up, picked up my bag and decisively pushed open the glass door.

  Every seat in the barbershop was taken, and no one took any notice of my entrance. The men cutting hair were too busy to greet me. Huixian, whose back was to me, was washing a client’s hair. But I could see her face in the mirror, and there our eyes met. A light flashed in her eyes, but only for an instant before they darkened again; she turned slightly, as if to see me clearly, but didn’t follow through as she slowly turned back again. She might have seen it was me, but she might also have thought she was mistaken.

  I spotted a newspaper rack by the door, where a days-old copy of the People’s Daily hung crumpled, dog-eared and enervated. Just what I needed to keep anyone from seeing my face. I sat in a corner, trying to arrange the angle and distance between my head and the newspaper, but failed miserably. It seemed to me that Huixian kept looking at me in the mirror, and the stronger my feelings became, the more uncomfortable they made me. To be honest, I had no idea how to go about establishing a friendship with Huixian. I hadn’t known back then, and I still didn’t know. Hell, I didn’t even know what I should call her. Back on the boat I’d never called her by her name, and I’d never used the word ‘sunflower’. It was always ‘hey’. I’d yell ‘hey’ and she’d come running, expecting to get something good to eat. But she’d changed; so had I, and I couldn’t figure out how to talk to her. I thought hard about that, finally deciding to let nature take its course. If she spoke to me first, I’d count myself lucky. If she chose not to speak to me, it was no big deal, since I wasn’t there to chat her up. I was there to keep watch over her.

  Women love to talk, and that was especially true of the women who came to have their hair done. Curious about Huixian’s stylistic talents, they were even more curious about her precipitous fall from grace. Dressed in a white smock, like a doctor, and wearing rubber medical gloves, she was washing the hair of Wintersweet, the female member of the security group. Buried in the sink, Wintersweet’s head was covered with soapy water, but that did not stop her from asking questions. ‘Huixian,’ she said, ‘I thought you were supposed to be studying in the provincial capital. What’s our famous Little Tiemei doing in a barbershop?’

  By this time, Huixian had a ready answer for such questions. ‘I’m afraid that Little Tiemei has become Old Tiemei. What’s wrong with a barbershop? Do you think that someone working in a barbershop is inferior to other people? Aren’t we all serving the people?’

  With a worldly look, Wintersweet snorted contemptuously and said, ‘You so-called artistes don’t know how to give an honest answer to anything. But I’m on to you people, don’t think I’m not. All you do is dance and sing and wear stage make-up. Have you planted a rice seedling or made a single screw nut even once in your life? Serve the people, you say? The people are serving you!’

  ‘Go and make that speech to somebody else,’ Huixian said. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree with me. I gave up that life long ago. I’m washing your hair now, aren’t I? You’re sitting and I’m standing, so who’s serving whom? Tell me that.’

  That shut up Wintersweet, but just for a moment. Suddenly her eyes flashed as she looked up at Huixian. ‘Those are fine-sounding words, Little Tiemei, but you’ll never be happy serving people like us. I know why you’re working in the barbershop, you’re practising for the day when they send you to cut the hair of high-ranking officials.’

  Huixian had been getting angry, but she had to laugh at this last comment. ‘You certainly do know how to say stupid things,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen my share of high-ranking officials, with their cooks, their bodyguards and their secretaries. But I’ve never heard of one having his own barber.’

  Another snort from Wintersweet. ‘Don’t get it into your head that you’re a woman of the world. You’re still a novice, and I’m telling you that a woman who survives by working with her hands is fated to live on gruel, but a woman who gets by thanks to her good looks or who has a powerful backer will eat and drink well.’

  ‘Now you’re making sense,’ Huixian said. ‘I’m not good-looking and I don’t have a backer, which is why I’m serving you.’

  Making clicking sounds with her tongue, Wintersweet thought for a moment before replying, ‘That’s strange, I heard you had lots of backers. There’s Zhao Chuntang in town, Secretary He at the county level, and Bureau Chief Liu in the district government. Don’t tell me they’ve all suddenly stopped backing you.’

  Clearly annoyed, Huixian said with a sneer, ‘Are you here to have your hair done or to cook up stories? Front or back, I’ve got nobody, not even a mother and father. Where would I get a backer? People like you may yearn for a backer, but not me.’

  That rebuff silenced Wintersweet, but her mind kept racing. In the end, she was incapable of controlling her tongue. ‘I know why you’re here, Little Tiemei. You’ve been hung out at the grass-roots level. For how long? Six months? A year or two? I advise you to ask the leadership for a timescale. Listen to me when I say that even a young girl grows old one day, like a pearl that turns yellow, and there’s no future for anyone who’s old and ugly.’


  Huixian’s tolerance ended at that moment. I saw anger and loathing in her eyes. She dug her fingers into Wintersweet’s scalp, snatched a towel off the rack and jammed it down on the woman’s head. ‘I’ll hang out as long as it takes – until the day I die if necessary. Don’t you worry about me. I’ve been hung out all my life, I’m used to it by now.’

  I don’t know why, but I couldn’t hide my head any longer. I lowered the newspaper and cast a ferocious glare Wintersweet’s way. ‘If you can’t hold your tongue, you cunt, I hope you choke to death!’ I spoke so softly the target of my curse could not possibly have heard me as she followed Huixian back to the chair, her hair dripping wet.

  ‘Why get mad at me, Little Tiemei?’ she said. ‘I’m just giving you advice. It’s for your own good.’

  But Little Chen had heard what I’d said. He turned and glared at me. ‘Who are you calling a cunt? And who’s supposed to choke to death? What’s a big boy like you doing sounding off just because a couple of women are bickering?’

  ‘I didn’t say anything,’ I said. ‘I’m reading the paper.’

  ‘What are you here for?’ he said. ‘Why squeeze your way into a busy shop just to read the paper? This is a barbershop, not a reading room.’

  ‘I’m waiting for a haircut, what’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Are you sure you didn’t come to read the paper? I’ll bet you’re not interested in reading the paper or getting a haircut. You’re sneaking around like a US Chiang Kai-shek agent. Who are you and where are you from?’

  Now the people took notice of me, and I saw Huixian glance my way. She hadn’t got over her anger, not completely; it was a lazy, casual glance. But then her eyes lit up. She recognized me, I could tell. Pointing her comb at me, she said, ‘It’s you, you’re that … something Liang.’

  She smiled, and I saw in her smile that she was pleasantly surprised, if somewhat puzzled, racking her brains to come up with a name. How depressing. How could she have forgotten my name? Ku Dongliang would have worked, or Elder Brother Dongliang, or even my nickname, Kongpi. She pointed at me, then dropped her hand and said with obvious embarrassment, ‘What a rotten memory I’ve got. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but it won’t come out. It’s something Liang. You’re from one of the barges of the Sunnyside Fleet, aren’t you? Now I remember – there’s a sofa on yours.’

  That was the sum total of her memories, the sofa on our boat, and I was reminded of how Yingtao had tried to stir up trouble between Huixian and me after they’d had an argument. Yingtao had come looking for me and said, ‘Go on, be her lackey if that makes you feel good. But I’m telling you, Huixian doesn’t like you, she likes your sofa and the treats your mother sends. She’s bourgeois through and through, a girl who wants the good life.’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said. ‘I’ve forgotten your name, but only for the moment.’ Seeing how disappointed I was, she cast a guilty smile my way before turning to the people in the shop. ‘What’s his name? Remind me, someone. All I need is one word to jog my memory.’

  A young man in a checked sports shirt, a crane operator, knew me. He was standing there with a peculiar smile. In a pinched voice he said, ‘Kong. You know, Empty.’

  ‘What do you mean, Kong? Stop playing around. Empty isn’t a family name,’ Huixian said. ‘Who are you, Mr Full?’

  ‘I thought you said all you needed was one word. I know his nickname, it’s Kongpi.’

  Aha! Now she had it. Either she was embarrassed or she was oversensitive, but I saw a change come over her. Her cheeks reddened as she rolled up her client’s smock and hit me on the shoulder with it. Then she covered her face and giggled. ‘Me and my rotten memory! You’re Ku Dongliang, aren’t you? I pretty much survived on the snacks you gave me when we were kids.’

  What could I say? I heard a whispering sound as a gentle breeze redolent with the smell of Glory soap swept past my ear. She was shaking the barber’s smock in my direction. ‘Ku Dongliang,’ she said in a pretend commanding voice, ‘come on, I’ll cut your hair.’

  Quickly putting my hands on top of my head, I said, ‘It’s not long enough to cut today. Besides, I have to get back to the barge.’

  ‘You’ll have to get it cut some time, if not today.’ She inspected my hair. ‘What do you use on it, a comb or a broom? That’s not a head of hair, it’s a bird’s nest. Are you waiting for a bird to lay an egg in that?’ Putting her smock to work flicking loose hair off the chair, she said, ‘What are you waiting for? Quit stalling and sit down.’

  Now what? I couldn’t make up my mind. Huixian nudged the chair with her foot, swivelling it around towards me and creating a gust of wind that made the hem of her smock flutter enough to let me see that she was wearing a blue knee-length skirt underneath. It too was caught by the gust of wind, revealing her knees, her knees, those knees, two lovable little bun-like mounds, two alluring, fruit-fresh knees. The scene had a dream-like quality. Be careful, I heard a voice whisper sternly, be very careful. It sounded like my father, but could have been my own voice. I didn’t move and didn’t know which way to look. A person’s gaze can be dangerous, it can give away your secrets. Whenever I sensed this danger in the air, I reminded myself: Above the neck and below the knees. But I didn’t have the nerve to look at her neck or her knees, so I kept my eyes on the floor, where there were clumps of dark hair, some long, some short, like an archipelago of dark islands. Huixian was standing on one of those dirty islands with her white half-heeled shoes and flesh-coloured nylons, on which a tuft of hair – man’s or woman’s, no way to tell – hung precariously.

  ‘What’s wrong with you? You look like a frightened criminal.’ She studied me, as doubt crept into her eyes. ‘Ku Dongliang,’ she said playfully, ‘you haven’t changed. You’re as peculiar as ever. Why did you come to a barbershop if you don’t want a haircut?’

  What could I tell her? Nothing. ‘Not today,’ I stammered. ‘Maybe next time. It’s getting late. My dad’s in poor health, so I have to go and get dinner ready for him.’

  She uttered a gasp, probably reminded of my father and his famous genital mutilation. She clearly felt like laughing, but not wanting to embarrass me, she covered her mouth. When she saw what I was gazing at, she looked down and spotted the tuft of hair on her stocking. ‘Damn,’ she said, ‘no wonder I felt an itch. So that’s why you’re looking down there.’ With a stamp of her foot, the hair fell to the floor, then she looked up at me and, out of the blue, asked, ‘How are my surrogate parents? I asked Desheng’s wife to invite them to come and see me, but they never have. They must be unhappy with me.’

  She had a cold side, but she also had her impulsive moments, and I could tell she wanted me to smooth things over for her with Sun Ximing and his wife. ‘Why would they be unhappy with you?’ I said. ‘They think a haircut here costs too much. They don’t part with their money easily.’

  ‘Costs too much? How much can a haircut cost at the People’s Barbershop? Go and tell them to bring the whole family. I’ll shampoo, cut, blow-dry and perm, and I won’t charge them anything. I’m here to serve the people.’

  I told her I would, then went over to retrieve my bag from the corner, with a roomful of curious eyes on me. Their expressions varied, but you could hear the wheels turning in their heads. I had no idea what they were thinking, but Huixian’s display of friendliness towards me had upset them, especially the fellow in the checked sports shirt, who was sitting in one of the chairs. He stuck out his foot and kicked my bag. ‘What are you hiding in there, Kongpi?’ he said. ‘You bring it with you every time you come ashore. If I was in that security group, you can bet I’d want to search it.’

  I glared at him and unzipped my bag. ‘You want to search it? Go ahead, I dare you.’

  He gave it a quick glance, but before he could say another word, Little Chen nudged me on the shoulder. ‘Go on, get out of here,’ he said. ‘This is no place for you to be showing off. Don’t come back unless you need a haircut. This is a barbershop, not a
public park.’

  If he hadn’t been one of Huixian’s fellow barbers, I wouldn’t have stood for that kind of nasty treatment. I turned and walked to the door. Huixian came up and patted my bag. ‘You can’t blame people for being suspicious. Why do you have to bring a big bag like that with you when you come ashore?’ She squeezed it once, then a second time, a habit I knew well. Ever since she was a little girl she had been in the habit of squeezing people’s bags. Mine was obviously filled with cans and other stuff which was of no interest to her. She pulled her hand back, reached into the pocket of her smock and brought out a stick of chewing gum, which she handed to me. ‘Give this to Xiaofu for me, would you? He asked me for a stick of gum when we met on the street once. I told him I’d get one for him, and a promise is a promise.’

  I tossed the gum into my bag.

  ‘How’s Yingtao doing? Thinking of getting married?’

  She’d forgotten my name, but not Yingtao, her mortal enemy, and that really made me mad. ‘How should I know? Who cares if she’s getting married or not?’

  ‘I just asked. What are you so stressed about?’ Then, with a hint of mischief, she pointed at me and said, ‘I’m not trying to be your matchmaker or anything.’

  Apparently, her animosity towards Yingtao hadn’t faded, and I waited to hear what she’d say next. I didn’t have long to wait. ‘When you get back, tell her to stop talking behind my back. I’m a nobody now, a barber, so there’s nothing for her to be envious about, and nothing to talk about.’

  It was not a welcome assignment, and as I walked out of the barbershop, my mind was a welter of confused thoughts. After not seeing her for so long, I’d had a friendlier reception than I’d imagined. She seemed open and approachable, which gave me a warm feeling. But even more, I felt a sense of loss. How could she have forgotten my name? Or had it all been an act? Not finding an answer, my mood soured. She had asked me about everyone but me, and maybe all she could recall about me was that I was Kongpi. I walked quickly out on to the street, then turned for another look at the barbershop. The sunflower by the door had opened happily to greet the bright sun. What a great thing a sunflower is! As I stared at the flower, I could imagine Huixian wishfully planting a seed outside the barbershop door and watering it each morning. That made me feel better.