Old Third must be making way for Lin, she thought, or else he never really liked me. But she couldn’t believe that, hadn’t his lips been up for the fight? Men always had their women before casting them aside; at least, that’s what it said in the books. So did he ‘have’ me? She hated how ambiguous books could be, they would only hint at things, like ‘he let loose his brutish behaviour, and ravished her’. What exactly did it mean, to be ‘ravished’? Probably, women got pregnant after being ‘ravished’. It’s been six months since Old Third held me, she thought, and my ‘old friend’ has been making regular visits all that time, so I can’t be pregnant, surely? In which case, he didn’t ‘have’ me then, did he?
Jingqiu was also worrying about the money she had put into Lin’s bag. Maybe he’d lose it, or his mother would wash it. So she followed them to the river crossing. Only once the boat had left the bank did she shout out, ‘Lin, I put twenty yuan in your bag, don’t let your mother wash it.’
She called out twice, then guessed Lin had heard her as he was untying the string around his bag. She saw Old Third turn to talk to the ferryman, and then suddenly he stood up, and grabbing the bag from Lin’s hand he walked to the front of the boat, making it sway violently. Afraid that Old Third was going to try to give the money back, she turned and ran. After a while it occurred to her that he was on a boat, what could he possibly do? She slowed and looked back. As she turned, she saw Old Third running towards her. His army trousers were drenched all the way up to his thighs and the fabric clung to his legs. She was dumbstruck. It’s October, isn’t he cold?
In a few bounds he was with her, and stuffed the twenty yuan into her hands. ‘Take the money, the sugar is a present, you don’t need to pay. Use this money to buy your team uniforms, don’t you have a competition?’
She stiffened; how did he know she needed kit for her competition? ‘Lin is still on the boat,’ he rushed, ‘he’s probably in a state of shock, he doesn’t know the way. I’ll be off, or we won’t make the bus.’ With that, he turned and ran towards the jetty.
She wanted to call after him but her throat wouldn’t make a sound. It was just like in her dreams, unable to speak, unable to move, all she could do was look at him as he receded into the distance.
That day, when she got back to school, she wasn’t in the mood for volleyball. Instead, she was occupied with thoughts of Old Third’s wet trousers; it would be hours before he got home and could change them. Would he catch a cold? How could he be so stupid and jump into the water like that? Did he wait for the boat to come back and pick him up? Days later, she still couldn’t forget the image of him running towards her in wet trousers.
What she couldn’t understand, no matter how she puzzled over it, was how he had known she needed a new team uniform for her competition. Last year, the volleyball team had played in matches without proper team uniforms because of lack of money, getting them into trouble with the referee and seriously affecting their performance.
Their coach, Mr Quan, was furious. He was not the sort to let even death defeat him, and he declared that had it not been for the unhappy business of their lack of a uniform, No. 8 Middle School would have come in the top six in the city-wide championships. After the competition he forced everyone to buy one. He collected the money and their sizes and went to get them himself to ensure that they didn’t all go out and buy whichever colour took their fancy, and so that the team could never again be referred to as ‘a motley crew’.
This time Mr Quan was resolute. ‘If you don’t buy a uniform, you can’t play volleyball.’ The team panicked and handed over the money. But Jingqiu didn’t have any to spare, and the ping-pong team also wanted her to buy one. She decided to try to convince the two coaches to buy the same colour and style, that way she could wear the same outfit for both.
But the coaches demanded that they be different. Volleyball was played outdoors and during the last competition it had been cold. Mr Quan demanded that they buy long-sleeved tops which could hold the warmth and protect their arms and shoulders from aches and pains. Ping-pong competitions, however, were held indoors, so Mr Wang wanted them to have short-sleeved tops; how can you play ping-pong with long, ‘droopy’ sleeves?
She didn’t know how Old Third knew about all this. Did he know the volleyball coach or one of her teammates? Or did he stand somewhere watching her play? But she had never seen him at any of the matches. Perhaps he was a born reconnaissance soldier? Was he checking up on her without her knowledge? She decided to take some money from this twenty yuan to buy a new strip, but only because Old Third had risked the freezing cold to give it back to her for that purpose. She would buy it to please Old Third; if he came and saw her wearing her new strip it would be sure to make him happy.
As luck would have it, apart from the length of the sleeves, the colour and style of the strips were the same. Perhaps there weren’t that many to choose from in those days. She bought a long-sleeved top and a pair of shorts so that she could wear the long sleeves when playing volleyball, and before her ping-pong competitions she could cut the sleeves short. Her needlework being what it was, she would then sew back the sleeves for volleyball and no one would be any the wiser.
Jingqiu had hoped that Old Third was going to surprise her by appearing at her competition that December, and would see her wearing her new strip. But she didn’t see him on the day, and later thanked heaven that he hadn’t come, as the No. 8 Middle School girls’ volleyball team only came in the top six. The team put their defeat down to their poverty; they could only afford to train with a rubber ball, whereas the regulation ball used in competitions was much heavier and made from leather. Not being used to its weight, they struggled even to serve. ‘Coach,’ they said after the competition, ‘you have to make the school get us some regulation balls to practise with.’
‘I promise,’ Mr Quan replied, ‘but you must practise hard, otherwise it will be a waste.’
Chapter Seventeen
One chilly spring morning Jingqiu and her team were practising out in the sports field. The volleyball court was close to the back gate of the campus, and as the outer wall was only the height of the average person, the ball was often knocked over the wall. Beyond it were vegetable fields tended by the agricultural commune, so every time the ball went over the wall there would be a mad dash to get it back before their new regulation ball got drenched in water lying in the fields – water could crack and split the leather – or else was snatched by a passer-by.
To go through the campus gate, however, was quite a way and it took too long so, for fear of losing the ball, someone would have to jump over the wall to get it. Not everyone could scale the wall; only Jingqiu and two other girls could jump over and back again without requiring the help of hands pushing from below. As soon as the ball went over someone would call out one of these girls’ names, urging them to hurry up and fetch it.
That morning during practice someone knocked the ball over, and as Jingqiu was closest a few voices called out, ‘Jingqiu, Jingqiu, the ball’s gone over!’
Jingqiu ran over and with one step and two hands she hoisted herself on to the wall. She had thrown one leg over the wall and was about to bring her other leg over and jump down when she saw a living, breathing revolutionary martyr just like Lei Feng pick up the ball and prepare to throw it back over the campus wall. He raised his head to look at her and called, ‘Careful, don’t jump!’
It was Old Third. He was wearing an army uniform, not of grass-green colour this time, but of that mustard-yellow kind, her favourite. She had only ever seen regional song and dance troupes wearing that colour. Old Third’s ink black hair shone against the brown fur collar on his overcoat and the dazzling flash of his white shirt collar. Jingqiu felt dizzy, and spots appeared before her eyes – either from hunger and exercise or else
Old Third’s dashing good looks – and she nearly fell down from the wall.
He held the volley ball, already wet and covered in mud. He walked up to her and handed it to her. ‘Be careful when you jump down.’
Jingqiu took the ball, lobbed it back over the wall towards the court, and remained straddling the wall. ‘How did you get here?’
He raised his head to look at her, and almost as if apologising, laughed. ‘The road comes here, and I walked along it.’
The girls on the other side of the wall called impatiently, ‘Jingqiu, you’re not taking a rest, are you? We’re waiting for you to serve.’
‘I’ve got to go and play,’ she said, jumping down and running back to her position on the court. The more she played, however, the more distracted she became. Where’s he going if he’s come past here so early? Suddenly she realised, this day last year was the day she arrived in West Village, that is, the day she first met Old Third. Did he remember and come to see me especially? Disorientated, she had to get confirmation.
Her thoughts turned to who would next knock the ball over the wall so she could climb over and see if he was still there. But it was as if everyone had made some prior agreement; no one hit the ball over the wall again. She waited until practice was about to finish then served the ball clear over the wall, annoying and surprising her teammates.
Without a care for what they thought she hurtled towards the wall, threw herself over it and, without wasting a moment, jumped down the other side. She picked up the ball, but couldn’t see Old Third. She threw the ball back but didn’t climb over the wall as she wanted to see if he was hiding somewhere. She looked all along the road right up to the gate, but there was no sign of him, so she had to accept that he had just been passing through. She was distracted for the rest of the day, and during the afternoon’s sports lesson she smacked the ball over the wall a few more times, volunteering each time to go collect it. But still no Old Third.
After school she went home to eat, and then went to check on the piles of leaves she and her classmates had set fire to earlier. Each class had a small portion of the campus that was their responsibility to keep clean. Today, it had been her group’s turn to sweep it, but the ground had been covered in leaves. Normally when this happened they would sweep the leaves into a pile and light them before throwing the ashes on the rubbish dump. Her group had asked Jingqiu to come back later to clean up the ashes after she’d been home to eat.
Jingqiu gathered the ashes and put them into a large woven dustpan to take to the dump. As she straightened up she noticed Old Third racing around the basketball court with some other students. He was wearing his white shirt and a woollen sleeveless top, having taken off his army uniform.
In her surprise she nearly spilled the ashes. He didn’t leave! Or had he finished his business and come back? She watched him play. He’s so handsome, she thought. When he jumped his black hair flew up into the air, and as the ball sailed into the net his hair fell neatly back into place.
She didn’t want him to see her watching him, so she busied herself with the remnants of the leaves. She threw them on the dump, returned the dustpan to the classroom and locked the door. But she didn’t go home. She sat on some parallel bars far away from the court but from which she could watch him play. There were only four players in all, playing in one half.
Old Third had already removed his tank top and was playing only in his shirt, his sleeves rolled up high, looking vigorous and handsome. She kept score for them, and counted who scored the most baskets, which turned out to be Old Third. She noticed he was wearing leather shoes. These little details made her admire him even more. Why can’t he live on this court, and play for me from dawn until dusk?
The sky gradually darkened, the game finished and the team dispersed. Someone took the ball and dribbled it towards the store cupboard, obviously intending to return it. Jingqiu watched Old Third nervously, not knowing where he would go. She wanted to call out to him, just to say a few words, but she didn’t have the courage. Maybe he’s been sent on a work trip somewhere nearby, and having nothing to do after work, he did as the workers usually do, and came to the school to play basketball to pass the time.
Eventually she saw him start off in the direction of her house; he must be going to wash his hands, she thought. She followed behind him, at a distance. As she had guessed, he and some of his teammates stopped at the wash basins. He waited for the others to finish washing and leave, before hanging his jacket and other things on an apricot tree whose branches spread out in a Y-shape. She watched him wash his hands and face, then even pull up his shirt to wash his body. She shivered with cold.
After pulling his woollen top back on, he walked to the nearby canteen. From there, she knew, he could see the door to her house. He stood there for a while, before draping his jacket over his shoulders, picking up his bag, and walking round in the direction of the back of her house. Not far from the back of her house there was a block of toilets. She was embarrassed, and couldn’t follow him. She fled, quick as a flash, back home.
Once indoors, she couldn’t resist going to the window to see where Old Third would go after coming out of the toilet. Her window was about one person in height above street-level. She stood by the window and gazed out in silence but she couldn’t see him. But as soon as she looked down she caught sight of him facing her house. Startled, she dropped to the ground, only to knock her head against the desk in front of the window, producing a resounding clanging sound.
‘What’s going on?’ her mother asked.
Jingqiu waved her hands to silence her mother, and half-crouching, waddled to the other room at the front. Only when she knew there was no way he could see her through the wall did she stand up, a little puzzled as to why she was so afraid. Having waited a while, she tiptoed to the window and looked out, but he was gone. She didn’t know if he had seen her. If he had, then he would know she had been watching him in secret. She stood by the window looking at the road below. She looked for a long time, but didn’t see him. He must have gone. It’s dark now, where did he go?
She went back to her room to knit and mull things over. After a while someone knocked on the door. It must be Old Third, she thought, flustered. She tried desperately to think of a lie to tell her mother. But when she opened the door she was greeted by the son of the school secretary, Ding Chao, whoﾠwas carrying a kettle in his hand. He must have been collecting water at the taps. ‘My sister wants to speak to you,’ he said.
Chao’s older sister was called Ling, and Jingqiu knew her a bit, but they could not be considered close friends. She had no idea why Ling would want to speak to her. ‘What does she want?’
‘I don’t know, she just told me to fetch you. Hurry.’
Jingqiu followed Chao to the taps, and just as she was about to turn to the right in the direction of the Ding house, Chao pointed to the left. ‘There, someone’s looking for you.’
Jingqiu realised at once that it was Old Third. ‘Thank you,’ she said to Chao. ‘You get your water, and don’t tell anyone.’
‘I know.’
She walked up to Old Third. ‘You’re . . . looking for me?’
‘I wanted to speak to you,’ he whispered. ‘Is it a good time? If not, then it’s not important.’
She was about to respond when she saw someone emerge from the toilets, and worried that they would see her talking to a boy – and that the news would spread like wildfire – she moved in the direction of the campus back gate. After walking some way she bent over and pretended to tie her laces, turning to check that Old Third was following behind at a distance. She stood up and started to walk again, following the campus wall until she reached the place where she had collected her volleyball that morning. He caught u
p with her and started to speak when she interrupted him. ‘Everyone here knows me, let’s go a bit further,’ and started walking again.
She walked and walked until she came to the ferry crossing, and only then did she realise she hadn’t brought any money with her. She waited for him, and alert as always, he came up to her, bought two tickets for the boat and gave her one. They went aboard, in single file. Not until they reached the other side and walked along the river some more did Jingqiu stop and wait for him.
He bounded up towards her, and laughing, said, ‘It’s like in the film In Hot Pursuit .’
‘The people on that side of the river know me, but now we’re on this side no one does.’
He smiled and asked, ‘Where are we going? Don’t go too far, else your mother will come looking for you.’
‘I know a pavilion up ahead by the river, and it has a bench. Didn’t you say you wanted to talk? We can talk there.’
The pavilion was empty, probably because it was too cold for anyone to want to come down here and drink in the icy wind. It consisted of only a few posts supporting a roof and was open to the elements on all sides. Jingqiu found a place to sit beside one of the posts in the hope that it might shelter her from some of the wind.
Old Third sat down on a small stool on the other side of the post and asked, ‘Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten dinner yet.’
‘Go and eat something at the restaurant over there. I’ll wait for you here.’
But he wouldn’t go. Anxious that he was hungry, she told him again to go and eat. ’Let’s go together,’ he suggested. ‘You said no one around here knows you, so keep me company. If you don’t go, neither will I.’
They found an out-of-the-way noodle stand, the type that only sells noodles and no rice dishes. Old Third asked her what she would like to eat but she insisted she wasn’t hungry. ‘Don’t keep asking or I’ll leave.’ Old Third was stunned by her response and didn’t ask again, telling her instead to sit and he’d go and queue.
Under the Hawthorn Tree Page 15