by Sheng Keyi
On her way to the washroom, Xiaohong ran into Xiao Yuan. They parted ways at the toilet door, one going to the left, one to the right. Xiao Yuan turned back to Xiaohong and smiled, his features rough, facial muscles taut, smile uneven. His actions were so like those of a bashful virgin that Xiaohong thought for a moment that he might go into the ladies’ washroom.
Youqing had shown up at work that day, exceptionally beautiful in both appearance and mood. She hummed and tapped her feet, instead of walking at her normal haphazard pace. She greeted Xiaohong warmly with a friendly smile, as if they’d always been close friends without any rift between them. What prompted her to be so forgiving and accepting, forgetting all past unpleasantness, and loving the world with such limitless passion?
‘It’s come! I’ve got my period!’ She announced with the same enthusiasm a woman who had been married for a long time would announce her pregnancy, causing a sort of emotional shock throughout the hospital.
‘Congratulations! Now you can get married and have a baby!’ the male doctors said.
She was like a treasure, with everyone asking all sorts of questions about her. ‘How is it? Is it heavy? Is it a bright red? Does your back hurt?’
The female doctors crowded around her, holding her little right hand, greatly concerned. Because of the situation surrounding her period, Youqing was something of a celebrity. Though beside herself, she calmly answered all of the questions the female doctors fired at her, going through every detail of the onset of the symptoms of her period through the feeling of its actual arrival. She spoke on and on about it at a snail’s pace, slow and meticulous. You have to understand, the arrival of Youqing’s period was like a child born to a couple advanced in years, worthy of celebration. She and her boyfriend had already made preparations for their future and were only waiting for the arrival of her period so that they could proceed.
Xiaohong’s nausea started at the same time that Youqing’s announcement was being made. She suddenly felt these people were like a hunk of fatty meat, producing both nausea and irritability as the stomach turned. Her belly longed for the leeks that grew from the soil in her hometown, so green and fresh, like a breeze blowing through the window into the house, bringing a cheerfulness with it. But when a real gust of wind blew, a real desire to vomit came with it, sticking in her throat. She held her breath, walked to the washroom and spewed into the sink. When she was finished, she calculated and found that her period was a week late. From her own experience with her body, she was sure a little worm had settled down and made its home inside her.
‘What’s this? Why are you having such a big reaction to my period?’ Youqing’s voice came to her suddenly. She leaned over the basin and pretended to wash her hands, drawing nearer to stare at Xiaohong. Then she calmly turned and left.
Xiaohong was surprised and a little embarrassed. She figured Youqing had heard her vomiting, but could not be sure the other girl had guessed why. The look on her face and tone of her voice when she spoke made it seem she had come pretty close to the mark. But, even if she knew Xiaohong was pregnant, she couldn’t say for sure who was responsible for it.
Who was responsible for it? At that thought, Xiaohong was a little confused herself. It might have been Liaos fluid that had got into her. Even just a drop could have this outcome. On the other hand, it could have been that Xia’s withdrawal had not been complete. A drop then could also have led to this result. So, which drop was more likely? Which drop? Which travelled faster? Which was more robust? Only that drop knew, only that secret path knew, only the womb knew.
‘Men are such shits!’ she scolded furiously. ‘Fuck! So careless. This is no small mistake. It’s huge! And to be mixed up with two men is nothing, until this sort of thing happens!’
Not long after Youqing had shouted, ‘I’ve got my period!’ she was caught up in a new type of distress. The flow went on for two weeks straight, creating big problems for her potential sex life. The menstrual cycle, if it didn’t come, was trouble. When it did come, it was even more trouble. Youqing’s period failed to come and it made her not quite a woman. But then, when it did come, it made it impossible to achieve another form of happiness as a woman.
Similarly, when Xiaohong’s period failed to come, new anxieties and worries welled up inside her. She could get married. But, to Xia Jifeng or Liao Zhenghu? If she chose the wrong one, sooner or later it would mean trouble. Nor could she be sure either would marry her. Actually, even when she was in the washroom vomiting, she already knew it was her fate to undergo an abortion.
When she knocked off work, her stomach churning, Xiaohong suddenly remembered how Xia had said, ‘The pork rib stew is pretty good.’ Unable to contain the violent wave of nausea that overcame her, she ran to the washroom and quietly cleared her belly of its contents. She wanted to go onto the rooftop and get some fresh air, to enjoy the breeze in solitude. Or, rather, to enjoy the breeze with the little fellow in her belly that was making her so exceptionally uncomfortable.
She made her way up the stairs.
‘Xiaohong is a flirt. She is such a bloody flirt.’
‘Don’t make wild guesses and don’t just go around talking about people for no good reason, OK?’
‘When did I ever talk about anyone for nothing? You’re with her in the office all day long. I can’t believe she hasn’t seduced you yet. I’m telling you, when I saw her puking that day in the washroom, I immediately thought of you. Did she do it with you?’
‘I… Youqing, you are still talking nonsense. You see someone puking, you can’t assume they are pregnant. You’re a girl too. Please don’t just go around saying such things.’
‘I think you smell of her. You still say you don’t like her?’
‘How could I like her? Will you stop going on about it? Now that you’ve got Xiao Yuan into the hospital, what do the two of you plan to do?’
The wind carried the voices from the roof into the stairwell. Xiaohong, nauseous, walked away. Spitting, she began to consider her options. One, tell Xia she was pregnant with his baby. Second, tell Liao she was pregnant with his baby. Third, just quietly pretend nothing had happened and go to the People’s Hospital for an abortion. Plans one and two might be explosive and the outcome less than ideal. The third was the quietest, like swallowing your front teeth when they have been knocked out. After all, she had to live and being single and pregnant was never going to yield a happy outcome. Forget it then! Next week, she would take time off, go to the People’s Hospital and get this matter cleared up.
The next few days, Xiaohong’s mouth was preoccupied, silently chomping on sour plums. She had takeaway meals and ate in her room, holding her nose as she took a few mouthfuls, then running again to the toilet to wash it all away. She wracked her brain, asking herself what she could possibly eat. Then, suddenly, she would have a terrible craving and for as long as she had this voracious appetite, she was extremely comfortable. Once she got what she wanted and finished it, she could survive the day.
VIII
During her recovery period, Xiaohong was conflicted. Restless, her mind began to wander.
On the one hand, she wished for a little comfort from Liao, but she feared he would want to sleep with her. After she had taken it upon herself to settle the matter of the little worm, she suddenly began to regret it. She felt she should have talked to him, since he played the leading role in her sex life. Even though she had been with Xia that one time, it was Liao who should take primary responsibility for this. But the matter had passed just like that, leaving her more or less in good health. No one knew the secret thing Xiaohong’s body had experienced. That time Youqing had seen her in the washroom vomiting had become nothing more than an illusion.
Her mind drifted to Youqing. Why would she want to bring a time bomb into the hospital, putting Xiao Yuan where he would cross paths with her and Xia? Perhaps she had some sick obsession with seeing men fight over her. Xiao Yuan was from the northeast and was something of a pet project for the little
southern girl. And his friendliness toward Xiaohong seemed to raise a heartfelt jealousy in Youqing.
It was November now. The weather was finally cool enough for a light sweater this late in the year. At this time, Xiaohong’s body was particularly vulnerable to fatigue and sometimes she experienced a sensation of vertigo. For a girl so young, this was a little strange, she thought. Xiaohong started wondering if it was anaemia, but then found no problem when she had it checked. She could not think of when the seed of this problem had been planted. Was it cancer or was she suffering from AIDS? Was she dying? These random thoughts troubled her and she suddenly became quite pessimistic. It finally produced in her a wave of self pity that was quite unprecedented.
Autumn had passed and winter seemed to be hiding inside her body, though it had not yet begun its full assault.
On her day off, Xiaohong’s forehead began to sweat and her breathing became uneven but it only lasted a moment before it all went back to normal. She went to a little fruit market and bought a bag of apples. Not bothering to peel it, she washed one of them and bit into it. When she had taken the bite, her eyes drifted to the stain on the ceiling. She recalled the day Liao had said, ‘I love you’.
The teeth marks on her apple had a slight bloodstain.
Her appetite left her. She threw the rest of the apple away.
It dawned on her that she had not seen Sijiang in a long time. The last time was when Specs had come with her to the hospital. Since then, they had only talked on the phone once. Specs seemed an honest, loyal sort. A shy, quiet echo of Sijiang. There should be no trouble between those two.
She didn’t know what that pair of dear old sows Wu Ying and Ah Xing were up to either. Wu Ying had found another job and Li Xuewen had opened a small bookstore for Ah Xing. They had all left the reception desk where they used to sell their smiles, and were in contact less frequently, naturally falling out of touch with one another.
She thought of going to Qianshan Town, since it wasn’t far. She could get there in half an hour on the bus. But she couldn’t get up. Lying there groggily, she dozed off. She slept, feeling she had found her way to the big comfortable bed back at home, smelling the fragrance of the rape fields, listening to the buzz of the bees’ song.
When she awoke, she found herself lying on a narrow bed in a foreign place, greeted only by empty walls and a simple wardrobe that sagged to one side.
Ten
I
Spring came like the evening tide, quietly and quickly, a patch-up job to repair the decay of winter. For those who were not particularly sensitive, the change of the seasons in this city was vague and they were completely oblivious to the arrival of spring. Most people lived in this distracted way, the change of seasons having nothing to do with them. There were only two sorts of people who felt strongly about the changing seasons. One was the lonely woman who was excessively tied to a luxurious lifestyle and the seasonal changes in fashion. The other was the rootless vagrant whose only concern was the business of survival. These two types of people had very different feelings. The sensitivity of the former was only skin deep, while the latter’s was from the soul. In the former, the change of seasons led to sentimentality but in the latter, it shaped the basic tenor of life.
Spring, a time of growth, the crazy mating season, was also the time for the annual peak of public education activity at the hospital. Those who exceeded the bounds of family planning policies and found themselves pregnant again had to have abortions. After the second child, it was time to talk permanent solutions. Each couple needed to make arrangements for husband or wife to have a procedure. Either would do. Normally, the woman would have a tubal ligation, hysterectomy or some other method of sterilisation. If the woman was really not able to do so, the man would have to pay the price and go under the knife. Although the campaign had been an aggressive one, there were still many people hiding out, waiting to have a third – or even a fourth – child. Often they persevered until they had a son, after which they would be happy enough to go and see the doctor and his scalpel.
The little cock. It was forever the ideal, the pride of life, a sustained revolution. When it was grown, it would bring both ecstasy and catastrophe to women. It would bear and bring forth all sorts of worries, excitement and joy.
This spring, Zhu Dachang accompanied his wife, the dark-skinned teacher, to the hospital. He was lucky – his wife had given birth to three sons all at once. She was unlucky – she had given birth to three sons all at once, so had to submit herself for the operation.
As it turned out, her luck was not all bad. The doctors reported that she had a rare condition that made her unable to go under the knife. She felt as if a glimmer in the dark of night had burst forth into the bright light of morning.
Dachang said at once, ‘Don’t you think I’m done here? I’ve got three boys. Even if you paid me to do it, I wouldn’t want to father anymore!’
‘No one can say for sure. But if you’re slated for an operation, you’ve got to have the operation. It’s official policy.’
While his wife was resting and the three babies were asleep, Dachang left the milky-smelling ward behind and went out for a walk. The smell of milk lingered even on his own body. He wandered out onto the lawn. Red and gold banana trees blazed, as brightly coloured as a bride in her heavy makeup.
Dachang suddenly remembered that some time back, Xiaohong had called and told him she was going to work in a hospital. He had been very pleased for her. He could not remember which hospital she was at, nor did he know how things were going with her. As he thought about it, he felt some regret. He should have taken care of this girl who was so far away from home. Even if his wife was jealous and even if he had promised not to speak to Xiaohong, all the same, he should have taken more care of her. Thinking back to the first time he had met the pathetic girl in the detention centre, Dachang felt that, in the face of the hard realities of the world, she really was too small and too weak. In Shenzhen, there were many small, insignificant people like Xiaohong. It was hard to see how these blind little girls overcame the difficulties they faced in life.
Walking round the lawn, Dachang looked up and saw a head sticking out of one of the windows in the hospital, looking at him. Then a hand came out next to it, desperately waving. He looked round to see who the person in the window was beckoning to and realised he was the one being hailed. Only then did he notice that the person looked like Xiaohong. Just like her.
‘Zhu Ge, I was looking for you. You have triplets! It’s all over the hospital. Everyone is envious.’ Xiaohong was like a wind blowing over him.
‘I’m happy for both of you, too,’ she slowly added.
‘It’s going to be a real hassle,’ Dachang said, conflicting emotions playing on his face and in his voice. As for what kind of trouble, he was too embarrassed to say. For a man to undergo this sort of operation, it was as humiliating as suddenly being castrated. Although the physicians had constantly reaffirmed that the procedure would not affect the normal functions of life, who believed that?
Xiaohong also didn’t ask what sort of hassle he meant. She only wanted to show herself to be quiet and thoughtful with Dachang. She was a bit stiff. It was a strange thing. She couldn’t explain it. A few years had passed and then they met like this, stood face to face like this, chatted like this. There were traces of sadness about each of them and they were left not knowing how many years would pass before they met again. Perhaps a lifetime. It was a sadness that hinted at autumn and the end of comedy.
‘You’re… alright? Looks like a good place to work. You need anything, I’ll do my best to help,’ Dachang stammered.
‘It is good. Really good. I always remember the help you gave me.’
‘There’ll be a typhoon in a couple of days. Remember to secure the windows. It’s best to stay indoors. Don’t go out.’
‘Alright.’
‘You need to apply for your temporary resident’s permit?’
‘No. The hospital took care
of that for me.’
‘If you need anything, call me.’
‘OK. Oh, do you know anything about the case of the girl who worked at the Qianshan Hotel, Julia Wilde? I don’t know if there’s been any resolution to that.’
‘From what I heard, there haven’t been any leads.’
‘I guess there’s no hope. Oh well.’
‘You take care of yourself. Don’t worry too much.’
‘You too.’
II
Several months flew past and, before he knew it, autumn had arrived and Dachang found himself at the hospital again. The shadows of two figures were visible on the other side of the screen. Zhu Dachang sat facing Dr Chen Fangyuan, answering her queries, under diagnosis.
‘Stand up. Take off your trousers,’ Dr Chen said in sanctimonious, majestic tones.
Dachang had gone under the knife in the spring, but his wife had recently become pregnant again. Suspecting the worst, Dachang decided to first go for a check up himself. He thought that if there were a few guerrilla forces lurking in his own body, he could do nothing but laugh it off. But if it were confirmed that his troops had indeed been defeated, then it was a big problem and his happy marriage and peaceful family life would face a severe test.
Dachang listened tensely to Dr Chen’s instructions, holding his breath as her hands prodded and pinched at him.
‘Has it had any effect on your relations with your wife?’ Dr Chen’s expression was like that of a blind fortune teller.
Dachang wanted to say it hadn’t but he sort of felt it had, so he answered noncommittally. The screen was suddenly pulled a bit and another female doctor came in, obviously on urgent business.
‘How can you just come in like that?’ Dachang, startled, quickly covered his most sensitive parts.
The doctor looked at him with a pair of panda eyes and said, ‘I’m a doctor! Is there any real reason to cover that thing up?’