Wild Fruit

by Keyi Sheng

  She went on persuasively, then put down the phone and cursed. Chuntian laughed and said, ‘It looks like I’m a real waste.’

  The girl with the ponytail felt my sister should not talk this way about herself. Looking angry, she said, ‘I’ve never seen such a nice-looking customer. I don’t believe it’s that hard to find you a suitable post.’

  Saying this, she pulled her book over and flipped through it again, this time starting from the back.

  My sister sat at the door, half dazed as she waited. Her old client from the tailor shop, the lawyer Sun Xiangxi, came by just then, carrying a basket of vegetables. ‘You looking for a job?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Chuntian replied.

  Sun said, ‘Why aren’t you at the tailor shop anymore? It’s a pity to see your craft go to waste.’

  She smiled, but did not explain.

  Sun asked, ‘Have you found a job?’

  The girl with the ponytail interrupted, ‘No, she hasn’t found one. They are all blind, where could you find anyone as good as Chuntian?’

  Sun said to my sister, ‘Come with me. I want to bring you someplace.’

  Without saying a word, Chuntian followed him.

  Ten minutes later, they reached the Peach Blossom Teahouse. Sun went in and called the owner of the place, Mr Gui, who answered and then came out. He was thin and had a humped back, even though he was not very old. He greeted Sun, saying, ‘You came at just the right time. A new product came in yesterday, a good quality black tea. You can try it.’

  Sun said, ‘Don’t worry about tea yet. Aren’t you lacking someone to look after the front of the shop? How about her?’

  Gui inspected my sister carefully, from head to toe, then said, ‘Sure. If she passes Director Sun’s inspection, then of course, there should be no problem.’

  Gui made the tea himself, brewing it, then warming the pot and washing the cups. As he went about his work, he asked about my sister’s situation. She gave him an honest report. When he had finished preparing the tea, he called the manager over and in turn explained everything to her. Chuntian moved to the Peach Blossom Teahouse that night. She did not tell anyone, not even Shui Qin, out of fear that Zhima would appear and make trouble for her.

  Teahouses in small towns do not require any special skills, so my sister was able to get right into the swing of things. Sun often came to the teahouse, and Mr Gui always called Chuntian to serve him tea when he arrived, and to keep him company. She gradually got to know him. He had divorced five years earlier, and his daughter had married and moved to Guangzhou. He was about to retire. He planned to go to Hong Kong for a holiday, and hoped to find a travelling companion. He asked Chuntian if she would like to join him, saying he would pay for the trip if she would go with him.

  My sister was not stupid. While she was working in the tailor shop, she thought Sun might be interested in her, but because of her circumstances, she had not thought too much about it. But now that she knew he was alone, she felt like she was keeping a fish in an aquarium in her heart, and that it was now beginning to stir the water with its tail. Sun was mild, kind, steady, and practical, but also playful and humorous. It was not surprising that Chuntian was moved by him. None of the men in her life could make her feel relaxed. My father was gloomy and stiff, Zhima was dull and boring, and Li Letian had not been important enough to even merit a mention. Sun was like a ray of sunlight on the water’s surface. She saw a new world sparkling with golden light and rippling with gentleness. When she closed her eyes, that world was imprinted on her mind, and its glow followed her wherever she went.

  Chuntian wanted to go to Hong Kong, but she was afraid of trouble from every side. She was apprehensive, so she again went to Shui Qin for advice. Shui Qin asked how old Sun was, his occupation, what sort of house he had, and various questions about his children and his retirement package. My sister said, ‘It’s just a holiday. Why do you have to ask about him in such detail?’

  Shui Qin said, ‘Don’t be stupid. You think he would innocently sponsor your holiday, just a single man and woman? Do you know what you’re getting into? Have you mentioned Zhima?’

  Chuntian nodded, saying Sun supported the idea of her getting a divorce.

  Shui Qin warned, ‘Chuntian, you need to separate things clearly. Getting a divorce is your business. It has nothing to do with Sun. You shouldn’t get him mixed up in all that. Right now, you’re a married woman. If you went to Hong Kong – or even America – if you just run away with someone, it’s very difficult for you to explain things clearly. I suggest you take it step by step. If Sun sincerely likes you, he won’t mind waiting a bit.’

  My sister asked, ‘You mean I should divorce first?’

  Shui Qin waved her hands. ‘You know the proverb. “It’s better to destroy ten temples than break up a marriage.” I’m just telling you, no matter what, don’t mix the two issues together. Otherwise it will become all entangled and messy.’

  Chuntian had never really given careful thought to the matter of divorce; it was just a weapon, which she could wield like a knife and potentially address any problem that arose. For instance, if she fought with Zhima, she would roar, ‘I want a divorce,’ at him, and he would stop; when her mind was extremely troubled, the thought of getting a divorce calmed her down. She often fantasied about getting a divorce and riding into the sunset with a certain man, and she was satisfied with the sweet momentary feeling in her heart. If she travelled now and got entangled with the issue of divorce . . . but Sun had not even asked her to marry him, so wasn’t that putting herself forward a bit too quickly?

  She still wanted to go to Hong Kong, just to see what it was like. She went back to the village to get her resident’s permit. She opened the door of the house and called out, but no one was home. She guessed Zhima had gone to the vegetable garden or stopped by a neighbour’s house. The smell of alcohol filled the place, and it was as messy as a pigsty inside. It smelled very bad. Out of habit, she thought about tidying up, but she felt she should deal with the urgent task first. She opened the cupboard door, pulled out a drawer, and reached inside to grab the cloth bag she kept at the very back, in which she kept all the family’s valuables, including the resident’s permits, a gold ring, and a passbook that showed a handful of transactions and a balance of just three figures.

  She hid her resident’s permit on her person and put the cloth bag back in its place, then closed the cabinet door. A pair of her pantyhose slid down and got caught in the gap between the doors. Her heart fluttered. She was like a thief caught in the middle of committing a crime, and she was quite excited. She had assumed there would be some obstacles to this task.

  She let out a breath of relief and turned around almost cheerfully, only to suddenly encounter Zhima standing right in front of her. Frightened, she screamed. Her face blanched for a moment, then turned red.

  ‘Your resident’s permit . . . what are you doing with it?’ Zhima asked gloomily. He looked right at her. His voice made her heart pound and tremble.

  I’m . . . making . . . making a temporary permit,’ she said feebly. It was clear at one glance that she was lying.

  ‘That place no bigger than newly spawned eggs . . . is also setting up temporary permits?’ he said, his breath reeking of alcohol.

  Steadying herself, my sister said, ‘Let me put it bluntly. Do you think Yicao’s thousands of yuan in school fees just drop from the sky?’

  Zhima’s face glowed with drink. ‘Chuntian, I’ve been looking for you for days, and I haven’t so much as seen your ghost. What wild man’s house have you been hiding at?’

  ‘If you go on like this, I will divorce you,’ she said, weakly.

  ‘Don’t start . . .’ He approached his wife and said blandly, ‘Chuntian, stay home. I’ll go out and work, OK?’

  He stooped and disentangled the silk stockings stuck in the door of the cupboard. He reached for my sister’s hand. She thought he wanted to be affectionate, but in a flash he was pulling her hands behind he
r and tying them with the pantyhose. He went on, ‘I’ll work hard. Won’t that be good?’

  ‘Are you going crazy?’ My sister became alarmed.

  ‘I just want you to stay home.’ He picked up a mess of things from the floor and tied her to a chair. ‘Now you can finally stay here.’

  A drunkard is detestable, but drunken words are pathetic. Chuntian’s heart softened hearing Zhima’s words.

  ‘I went everywhere looking for you. I even slept under a bridge a few times. I told Yicao that her mama had disappeared. She just ignored me and said that since both of us were always fighting, it was better that we divorced. This shameless girl who messes around in bed without even closing the door – she even dares to look down on her own father. I tell you, Chuntian, I really want to quit drinking. I want to work and earn money, to make a decent home . . . Ah, where did you hide? Why won’t you tell me?’

  Zhima went on and on, whining and crying by himself. Later, he lay on the floor and fell asleep.

  The knot he had tied was not tight. Chuntian broke free, ripping off the stockings and torn scraps of cloth. She put Zhima to bed and sat down in a daze. Then she got up, cleaned the house, and left.

  My parents came to look down on Zhima more and more. They called him a sack of cow shit, not even fit for plastering a wall with. Zhima did not dare show up at their door too often. Only as a last resort did he pick up two bottles of wine and show up timidly one day. Of course, the wine was not the green leaf liquor he used to bring years ago, but they were at least Six Gold Blessing and Luzhou Liquor, spirits of reasonable quality. My father was quite particular about his wine, so Zhima did not dare be too stingy.

  Yicao was close to our side of the family, not going home even over the long holiday. Zhima did not see her and was terribly bored with no one else at home like that.

  He had always wanted a son, so had never really cherished his daughters. Now that he was getting older, his feelings changed, and he suddenly grew very attached to them. He always called Yihua, asking about this and that. He was alone from sunrise to sunset. He found that his life comprised these three women. When they dispersed, he fell apart. But what really riled Zhima up was Yicao’s harsh ridicule, saying all he did was drink and play cards all day. He did not do anything, but hung around waiting to share in others’ crops. She did not want such a father. She even said she would try to persuade her mother to divorce him, leaving him on his own.

  Zhima thought of his own desolate situation, of how he was deserted by everyone in his old age, and he realised he was a little afraid. He drank to drown his worries, and then his long-lost wife appeared, as if she descended from heaven. He was drunk. He didn’t know what he was doing.

  When he awoke, he was lying on the bed. The house had been cleaned, but there was no one to be found. He knew she had gone back to the city, not even spending the night at home. She did not treat it as her home anymore. His heart was filling up with bitterness. Immersed in such self-pity, his spirit grew even more sluggish.

  There was a widow in the village whose husband had been gored to death by a water buffalo. She was called Chai Fengying, and she was on good terms with my sister. When Chuntian left, she kept criticising Chuntian in front of Zhima, asking what kind of woman had turned so wild that even a team of eight horses could not drag her back . . . Finally, she even accused my sister of abandoning her family. It made Zhima feel like he had found a bosom friend. He poured out many grievances to her, and even shared all of the couple’s most private secrets, including Chuntian’s lack of focus during that, saying she either cracked melon seeds between her teeth or bit her hangnails, telling him to hurry and get it over with, or talked about how she needed to pee, which made him lose interest, too. Maybe he was actually impotent by now!

  Fengying was like a piece of farmland which had long suffered a drought, so she lost no time in letting her own maternal instinct come out, offering considerate comfort and acting flirtatious, her voice affected and saccharine. Such coquettishness gave her an advantage that covered her ugly flaws. Zhima was ready to clutch at any straw he could find, so before long, they were in bed together.

  But the event soon turned into just an interlude. Fengying was a sensible person, and she did not intend to attach herself long term to an incompetent drunk. She also had a pair of children herself, so she knew that, if her own mind was flooded over, it would end in wretchedness for them all. She warmed herself with Zhima for about a month and was rejuvenated, decreasing her lust with each encounter. Ultimately, she cut him off.

  Zhima was a married man. Being used and chucked aside like that was humiliating, but he was helpless in the face of it and could only suffer in silence. It was strange, but it was only after the affair ended that he realised how ugly Fengying was. Her face was round like a wash basin, her eyebrows sparse, her small eyes were painted with a dark ring of eyeliner, framing a pair of dead, fishy eyes, and her skin was splotchy. Even so, this was was the woman who had yelped like a young dolphin, whispering to his lustful instincts. He was bewitched for a while, and that made him feel used.

  After this little setback, Zhima felt that other women were even less reliable than his own. Some people encouraged him to go into the city and set up a stall, selling kebabs or polishing shoes while he went about looking for his woman. No matter what, it was better for husband and wife to be together; offering more stability.

  Zhima settled things at home and, carrying his checkered plastic bag, made his way to a construction site with another fellow from the village. Yiyang was developing rapidly then, and houses were being built everywhere. New high-rises popped up all along the banks of the Zijiang. Variegated lights were scattered across the landscape each night, like a flourishing dream. Zhima was not used to doing heavy work at home. After a few days of carrying concrete, both of his shoulders were swollen and aching. When he climbed the scaffolding, he was afraid of heights, so his coworkers looked out for him and asked him to shovel concrete, mix cement, and move bricks instead. At night, he slept in a shed with a dozen other people. The air was stale with mixed smells as they quarrelled, played cards, laughed, whistled, and told dirty jokes. It was a happy life.

  When he had free time, Zhima went out to restaurants, shopping malls, hotels, and recreation centres, searching for Chuntian inch by inch. He went back to the tailor shop a few times, but found no happy surprises there. Instead, the place was not doing so well; there was no more rapid fire rhythm of the sewing machines. There were just three or four seamstresses left, calmly fiddling with fabric and occasionally stepping on the pedal of the sewing machines, making them sound like a cold gun.

  Zhima had a look, then left. But then he turned back and told Shui Qin he was working at the Taohua Warehouse Construction site. He wanted her to tell Chuntian, if the two of them met.

  When Zhima had been gone for a while, the women in the tailor shop started to talk.

  ‘If he knew his woman was with another man, he would kill her.’

  ‘As long as a woman never acknowledges it and she is not caught in bed with another man, her husband can’t stir up trouble.’

  ‘Liu Zhima is too rotten to even be turned into plaster for my walls. Chuntian should divorce him right away, then find a retired cadre to settle down with. She would be just fine then.’

  ‘Sun Xiangxi is quite something. He got a secondary school teacher pregnant some time back. I’m not sure how, but he settled that problem.’

  ‘It seems he is still in touch with his ex-wife. Who knows whether they’ll get back together someday.’

  ‘With his former woman’s tough character, there’s no way she’ll forgive him for fucking around.’

  ‘Why would Sun look for a village girl? Is he just toying with Chuntian? She’s so naïve, she’ll be easily fooled.’

  ‘Chuntian isn’t a girl. Whether her relationship is good or bad is her own business. Just don’t wag your tongues in front of Liu Zhima and it’ll be fine.’

  *


  Zhima did manual labour until his muscles ached, finally experiencing the hard work Chuntian had always done in the past. At night he was so full of regret, he could not fall asleep. Once, he called Yihua and said, ‘Your mother changed her cell phone number. Do you have the new number?’

  Yihua answered, ‘That’s between the two of you. If she wants to see you, naturally she will look for you.’

  Zhima said, ‘What do I have to do to get her to see me?’

  ‘She wants to divorce you.’

  Zhima was confused. ‘She’s not serious, is she?’

  ‘I don’t know. Anyway, even if you two divorce, you’re still my father and she’s still my mother.’

  When Zhima and his friends had been at the work site for three months, the project was completed. When he and the other workers went to the contractor to settle things, the contractor said the account had not been paid, so he could not pay the workers yet. After the workers went to him time and time again and still did not get their money, they decided he was cheating them. Finally, they all went to the office as a group and asked for their pay. Zhima was owed the least, and even his share was several thousand yuan. Conditions at the site, bearing both sun and rain, had been quite tough, so he intended to receive his money, then use it to open a stall and sell kebabs. So Zhima was in the front of the pack, shouting fiercely, as if all the bitterness of his marriage and the difficulties in his life had come about because of this payment in arrears. He carefully recounted the fatigue of the worksite, showing the wounds on his shoulders, arms, and legs. He said, ‘This is hard-earned money. You have to pay up, every penny of it!’

  Thinking Zhima was the leader of the workers, the contractor went to speak to him privately. He waited on Zhima with tea and was very polite. But the soft approach did not work on Zhima. He grew arrogant, talking like a big hero. He said to the contractor, ‘Everyone is waiting for the money to support their families. We will only go away when you give it to us.’