In the Lap of the Gods

by Li Miao Lovett

  “Didn’t say she was married. She did say she has two roommates, I think.”

  “Don’t say anything to her, okay?”

  Tai remained silent, his eyes twinkling until Liu punched him in the arm. “Promise?”

  “Okay,” Tai relented. “You’ll have to tell her yourself.”

  WHEN LIU ARRIVED AT MRS. SONG’S APARTMENT, HE COULD HEAR the baby wailing. He hesitated at the door, knowing that Mrs. Song would find fault with him again, and he never had good enough excuses for his fatherly ignorance.

  “Mrs. Song, I’ve returned from—”

  “Liu, you must take better care of her! Babies are very delicate creatures. She threw up all the egg custard I fed her.” The matronly woman patted the baby on the back, and rocked back and forth on her bulbous feet to soothe her. Rose was suspended in a large carrying cloth strapped around the woman’s shoulder and waist, like a small watermelon against Mrs. Song’s pear-shaped body.

  Liu apologized, but Mrs. Song ranted on. “I fed her almost two hours ago, and next thing you know, it all came back out the same end. So I ground up some po-chai pills and put that in some water. She spat it out, too!”

  “Well, I do appreciate your watching after her.”

  A huge wave of a sneeze rippled through Mrs. Song’s belly, and the baby rose up like a boat on the swells. “Oh dear! I . . . aaaah CHOO!” She hustled to the kitchen sink, turned sideways and blew out her nose. “My nose is stuffed up like a jian dui.”

  Liu thought the old woman rather looked like a fried dough puff herself.

  Mrs. Song collected herself, wiping her cherry nose with the edge of an apron. “Had the flu, you know. Must be the heat. Hot fire rises up the body.”

  “Why don’t I take her back? You can get some rest.”

  Mrs. Song puttered over to a chair and untied the carrying cloth. “Oh dear, my knees. All this weight is hard on my old bones, you know.” She glared at Liu. “You’re young, you wouldn’t know. Now listen. Take these po-chai pills and grind half a vial into some soymilk. Don’t go gallivanting off to the restaurant tonight. A father bird’s gotta take care of his babies.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Song.” Liu nodded meekly.

  Mrs. Song handed Rose back to Liu. The baby sank her head against his chest. She felt warm and moist when he touched her forehead.

  The old woman rubbed her kneecaps and pounded her thighs as if she were kneading dough. “Now all my life I’ve been taking care of people. A husband, bless his departed soul, but he was cranky. A son, all grown up now, but he’s still my boy. Don’t think for a minute that they can make a lot of money and forget they had a mother.”

  “He’s a good son, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, yes, he sends me money.” Mrs. Song sat up and gave Liu a stern look. “Now, Liu, you’ve lost a lot of family, why don’t you take on a wife? Somebody who can take care of the baby. Better than this old mother hen, and certainly better than you.”

  Liu stared at his feet and remained silent. He stroked the baby’s head, and shuffled toward the door. Before departing, he said, “Thank you, Mrs. Song, you’ve been a big help. Why don’t I take care of her until you’re better?”

  “My dear man, I don’t mind caring for the child, really.”

  “No, that’s fine. You deserve a break, being sick and all.” Liu did not say that Mrs. Song might keep spreading her germs otherwise. That would offend her.

  Another prolonged sneeze sent Mrs. Song reeling back in her chair. She mustered a feeble good-bye, and reminded Liu to give Rose those po-chai pills.

  Over the next several days, Liu was confined to the apartment with his sick infant. Rose cried almost constantly. As she lost weight, the dimples disappeared from her elbows. He was reduced to feeding her soymilk, but she could not keep that down very well. It never occurred to Liu to seek a doctor; his own family had been too poor, and his village too remote, for access to medical help.

  The po-chai pills helped a little. But fever had possessed the little soul, and even in her sleep, she seemed to be tormented by demons that turned her stomach and set her cheeks on fire. Liu did not get much rest. He was no longer able to distinguish day from night; only her cries would force him into a brief bout of wakefulness, and he would attend to her needs with bleary-eyed diligence. His own had become neglected. Liu had little energy to shave or bathe, or cook more than the dried noodles and mushrooms he dug out of the cobwebs beneath the kitchen sink. Dressed in the same threadbare pajamas, Liu shuffled about the tiny apartment, marooned in a lonely struggle against the baby’s illness.

  There were brief periods of calm when Rose napped in the late morning and afternoon. Liu would slump into the wooden chair and draw in his cigarette in long breaths, listening to the hum of the small refrigerator. Even the television seemed tiresome. Everyone on the shows screamed. Ecstatic contestants screamed on game shows. Distressed widows whined in maudlin soaps. News reporters bellowed into their microphones on noisy streets. Liu had endured enough screaming for the past few days.

  In those quiet moments, his mind seized upon a strange lucidity. Despairing thoughts arose, feeding upon his dreary existence. He began wondering again, as he did in her foundling days, if he could really keep her, if the responsibility were not too great for a single man.What if she were seriously ill? Could he save her life, as he had done by the riverbank? Or—and the prospect of her death now gripped him with fear—could this fragile life be snuffed out, after all she’d been through, by the gods of fate?

  Two infant girls, swaddled in ragged cloths, lying by the dirt road.The image haunted Liu.Two girls, abandoned once and again, cursed by their gender, at the mercy of strangers. He thought of that fateful day, how they had to pick two babies to surrender. Yet he had been a captive in Fang’s hands, and had no choice but to leave those two infants at the doorstep of unknown villagers.

  Liu still resented Fang for his dictatorial ways. But perhaps Fang had to take control of the situation, and Liu had really been along for the ride. He did not trust Fang any more or less after that unfortunate event, but he could at least count on the old man to act in a dire situation.

  A week later, the baby began to show signs of recovery. She was sleeping more soundly and crying less. She was able to keep down her food, and the feverish glow had left her cheeks.

  Liu grew fidgety in the confines of his apartment, shuffling endlessly between the cradle and kitchen. He threw open the curtains to let in the morning air, before the sun could seize upon the smell of po-chai pills and baby vomit. He needed to get out and scavenge again. If he couldn’t rely on Mrs. Song to babysit, he’d have to pay someone. But paid help might not be more reliable. Doubt crept in again. Perhaps he should ask Fang if there was a childless couple in Wushan who wanted a baby. A baby girl for someone desperate for a child. No, that’s criminal, Liu thought, I cannot turn little Rose over to the old wolf.

  Liu visited Mrs. Song in the afternoon, first to see if she was reasonably well, and again to leave Rose in her care for a few hours. He bathed with a small sponge, put on his good shirt, and headed over to Fang’s house. Squaring his shoulders, Liu braced himself for another encounter with the old broker.

  At length, Fang opened the door and gave Liu a hearty slap on the arms. “Ol’ Liu, what a surprise! I thought you might have gone after sunken treasure, fed the fish. Some are carnivorous, you know.” The old man’s eyes twinkled. His smile was disarming, and Liu felt a little foolish about his militant stance.

  “Fang, old man, I’ve been busy with the baby. I had no idea, of course, how much energy a youngster could take up. And she’s been sick the past week.”

  “Yes, you look a bit worn out. If I didn’t know better, I’d blame it on a badgering wife.” Fang chuckled.

  “No, Fang, no woman around. Listen, I need to get out there again.” Liu knew the broker could give him the raw end of the deal, but he had no other prospects.

  “What is there to scavenge? The old towns are buried under wate
r. And the next round of flooding won’t happen for another three years.”

  “Well, Fang, you said there’d be more to find after June. There’s gotta be more pickings out there.”

  “If I scattered birdseed to the pigeons, or a wad of paper bills to the thieves, how quickly do you think it would get snatched up?”

  “Quit talking in riddles, Fang. I need your help.” Liu lit a cigarette and paced up and down Fang’s sitting room. After the exhaustion and delirium of the past week, he couldn’t help betraying his desperation.

  “Now, now, we’ll find you work, trust me. Have I let you down before?”

  Liu glared at the old man and said nothing.

  “Look, Liu, I’m not your enemy. If you strike gold, why, I’ll help you get market value for the goods.” Fang waved his pipe in an arc. “Besides, I know you’ve got an extra mouth to feed. Nothing like fatherhood to turn a man into a real hunter.”

  FANG SHOOK HIS HEAD AS HE WATCHED LIU’S LANKY FORM disappear down the street. How women make fools of men, he thought. There must be a woman in the picture. Or if there wasn’t, perhaps the scavenger was indeed looking for nice treasure, the kind that one could curl up with at night.

  Taking out a roll of documents, Fang pored over the county map and schedule for some time, his pipe dangling meditatively from his lips. He had told Liu the truth. The towns and villages along the Yangtze had been submerged, and every human, land animal, and insect in the river’s path had been forced to higher ground. It would be risky to rummage through the villages targeted for the next flooding. No farmer would be willing to abandon his home and surrender the fruits of his labor before it was time.

  Fang turned his attention to other matters. A contractor had solicited his help in obtaining the permits for a new building in town. He was new to the region and wanted to find out which officials could help grease the wheels. Fang relished these kinds of cases, which were more profitable than small-time deals like baby trading.Whenever he guided a big project through the bureaucracy, he would make an offering at the altar to his ancestors. Fang believed that his father continued to exert a powerful influence on his affairs, even though he had long departed from this world. On the anniversary of his father’s death, he would set out bowls of rice, dishes with steaming pork, string beans, and tofu laden with Sichuan spices. He would place crisp paper bills by his father’s rice bowl. It was an unusual gesture, but Fang felt that he was indebted to his father, who had given him a shrewd head for business and a keen sense of judgment about people’s desires and vulnerabilities.

  Fang kept thinking about Liu’s situation. It puzzled him why he would be concerned at all, since Liu’s forays had generated sporadic profits. “I’ve dealt with lots of pigheaded bastards before,” Fang said to himself. Was it the lack of pretense, the country bumpkin manners that amused him? No, the old broker felt mostly scorn and derision for his kind. Perhaps something about Liu reminded Fang of his younger self, but the old man couldn’t figure out what it was.

  By the time Liu returned the next day, Fang had thought of an enterprise to cure the man’s cabin fever.

  “There is a small city upriver called Fengdu, past Wanzhou where you and I caught a boat, and it may be worth exploring.” Fang sat with his arms crossed, holding his pipe with the ease of a da lao ban. He stared intently at Liu. “The residents are still being moved out. Find the buildings that have a bit of life in them. Who knows, you might even come across a little stash of opium or heroin. Now that’s out of my league, you know.”

  Liu looked concerned. “It sounds kind of risky.”

  “My friend, most of the town is dead as an opium den. The enterprising young folk have moved across the river. I think it’s pretty much the old geezers who can’t afford to move. Just steer clear of the dark alleyways, and you’ll be fine.” Fang exhaled, sending forth a magnificent swirl of smoke.

  “Now, Fang, it’s hard to know what’s left in a ghost town, but if I come across some valuables, I want to be part of the bargaining, okay?”

  “Ol’ Liu, you’re young and already so cynical. My kind of man.” Fang chuckled. “I took you on that trip to the orphanage, remember?”

  “Ol’ Fang, that was a fiasco. My conscience still haunts me about those two infant girls.” Liu leaned forward. “Tell me, what did you do with the infant boy?”

  Fang’s eyes were placid, unmoving. “Why, I found a foreign doctor who sewed up his lip. They have such pity on us Chinese, you know.”The broker grunted. “Now the boy is under orphanage care, if he isn’t already snatched up by some eager parents.”

  “I’m sure you got a little reward for your good deeds. I just don’t want to be shortchanged, Fang. Okay?”

  “Trust me, I’m an honorable man. My father was an upright businessman, and I am his first born, Fang Shuping. Fang as in da fang, generous.”

  11

  IN MATTERS OF BUSINESS, TAI COULD BE AN ENTERPRISING MAN in spite of his stinginess, which was somewhat of an indelible stamp on his personality. But he was not a big risk taker in most affairs, and his advice for Liu was one of caution.

  “Go into a crumbling old town, Liu? I think you’ll catch a hundred sewer rats before you find a single ounce of gold.”

  It surprised Tai that Liu would take such a risk, as the younger man had hinted at the sobering losses of the past two years: a wife and child, a real home, and reliable work. Yet his friend had a tough spirit, with a touch of stubbornness. Tai figured there was something besides boredom driving the scavenger toward this new venture.

  “Tai, I’ve been stuck with a sick, bawling baby for a week. I need to do something. I’m used to hard work, you know. No man can stand being cooped up like that.”

  Liu said he was running out of money, but Tai was still convinced that a woman was at the bottom of this. Perhaps Liu was sexually frustrated. Tai himself was, and his energies merely percolated into his noodle shop, now a thriving business and one of the more popular places in town with locals and tourists alike. Liu had inquired about his new waitress.That was a sure sign. Mei Ling was awakening pent-up desires in the younger man.

  Tai decided that it was his duty as a friend to help Liu fulfill those desires. Besides building up his business, Tai began strategizing ways to maximize contact between Liu and Mei Ling. But how? Liu was too stubborn to take any hints from Tai about inviting her out on a date. And the restaurateur certainly didn’t want her to spend her work hours lingering at his table; no, that was not good for his business.

  One afternoon, while chopping a batch of cabbages, Tai hit upon a solution. He had his eye on a vacant storefront for lease on Wushan’s main street, which would take his business to a new level. He could even secure the adjacent space and turn it into a banquet room. The shop owner there sold hardware and bathroom fixtures, but his business had slowed down after the town’s resettlement was completed. Tai figured he could hire a contractor and put Liu on the payroll. Mei Ling would be given extra duties to do the interior decorating. Perhaps she could also tend to the workers’ meals, which he would provide to save some money on salaries. It was a brilliant plan.

  A FEW NIGHTS LATER, WHEN LIU RETURNED TO THE NOODLE SHOP, Tai hobbled over to his table with a funny spring in his step. “Liu, I want you to work for me,” he declared, explaining the grand project.

  Liu took a deep breath. “That’s good news. Tai, you don’t know how I’ve been longing to do something with my hands besides changing diapers and mashing carrots. I try to distract myself with television, but that only makes me more antsy.”

  The baby’s recent bout of illness had tested his patience as an adoptive father. Liu had little energy to notice the new sounds she uttered, the way her eyes tracked his movements, how her apple-shaped face mirrored his moods. In the wake of that exhausting week, even her dimpled smiles could not cheer him up.

  Liu barely heard his friend’s ranting about the cost of hiring five men. But his ears perked up when Tai said, “Just as important for the
new restaurant is a pleasing interior. It’ll require a woman’s touch. I got ideas from another restaurant on Guangdong Street—put up some wallpaper, wood panels, auspicious paintings and such. Oh, and a tank of tropical fish at the entrance.”

  Liu caught on to his friend’s excitement. “Great, when do we start?”

  “Next week, my friend.” Tai grasped his hands. “Yes, I can use a good pair of hands like yours. And a good pair of hands makes a good catch.”

  AT THE END OF HIS FIRST DAY OF WORK, LIU WAS GRATEFUL FOR the chance to sit down and eat. The small crew was provided with a makeshift table of plywood on stacked bricks, and a few crates to sit on. Liu did not mind the modest accommodations; his bowl of beef noodle soup went down well amidst the dust and chaos of construction.

  Mei Ling appeared at four o’clock every afternoon with a cart of food. She served the four men graciously, but did not pay special attention to Liu. Tai also made a point of visiting the construction site every day, making the trek uphill from the noodle shop when business was slow. One afternoon, he told Liu that he needed his help with the interior decorating.

  Liu was puzzled. “What do I know about flower prints and carpets?”

  “It’s yin and yang, my friend,” Tai replied. “A woman provides a warm touch; a man balances it out, offers a cool eye. After all, I won’t be hosting weddings and baby celebrations all the time. I expect plenty of businessmen to use the banquet room.”

  When Liu realized that Mei Ling was the woman for the project, a wild pulse surged through his body. He could not help but feel drawn to her. The waitress’s coy smile radiated out to the beauty mark on her cheek. She moved swanlike, as if gliding through water, and in her wake the stern angles of the old hardware store softened. When she served the men, they slid their crates back respectfully, but he could see that they were all caught in the ripple of her feminine charms. In that barren space of concrete and mortar, her arrival was the highlight of his workday.