Rickshaw Boy: A Novel (10 page)

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Authors: She Lao

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Literary

BOOK: Rickshaw Boy: A Novel
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The light went out in the room. The night was black as pitch. A star or two twinkled in the Milky Way or burned through the darkness, dragging red or white tails behind them, breezy or durable, falling earthward or racing across the sky, like dazzling explosions. They quivered and shook, investing the sky with heated upheavals, lighting it up. Sometimes stars flew through the sky alone or in pairs, sometimes in greater numbers at the same time, causing the silent autumn sky to shudder and bring chaos to all the other stars. From time to time a single giant star tore through a corner of the sky, its long tail emitting enormous sparks—reds turning gradually to yellow. With one last push, it lit up that corner of the sky, as if piercing layers of darkness to get to and frolic with milky white rays of light. When the light died out, the darkness sputtered a time or two before coming together again, as the stars quietly, lazily, returned to their places and smiled at the autumn breezes. Fireflies hovered just above the ground, searching for their mates and cavorting like the stars.

Xiangzi got up early the next morning and went out with his rickshaw. His head ached; his throat was sore. He had a hangover but didn’t let that bother him. As he sat at the entrance to a small lane, with the early morning breezes cooling his head, he knew the discomfort would fade before long. But the problem preying on his mind depressed and confused him, and he didn’t know what to do about that. The night’s events brought doubts, shame, and sadness, not to mention the prospect of danger.

He did not understand Huniu. That she was not a virgin was something he had discovered only a few hours earlier. He had always respected her and had never heard any talk of promiscuity about her. Though free and easy in her dealings with people, no one talked about her behind her back; the worst anyone might say was that she was fierce as a tiger. So how had last night happened?

Foolish as it seemed, Xiangzi began to have suspicions. She knew he’d landed a monthly hire, so how could she have been waiting for him like that? If she hadn’t cared who came by…Xiangzi lowered his head. As a young man from the countryside, he had plans for his future, though he hadn’t yet given any thought to marriage. If he had his own rickshaw and life were a little easier, he could, if he wanted, go back to his village and marry a robust young woman who was no stranger to hard work, one who could wash clothes and do housework. Young men of his age nearly all slipped off to a whorehouse from time to time, even if they had someone to keep an eye on them. Not Xiangzi. To begin with, as someone who prided himself on his abilities, he was not about to throw money away on women. Second, he had seen foolish young men—some no more than eighteen—whose money had bought them nothing but grief; he watched as they pressed their heads against a toilet wall, unable to urinate. Finally, he would not be able to face his future wife if he didn’t behave himself now. Since he would marry only a virgin, a spotless girl, he could ask nothing less of himself. But now, now…he thought about Huniu, who was fine for a friend, but as a woman, she was ugly, old, fierce, and shameless! Not even soldiers who had stolen his rickshaw and nearly killed him in the process were as hateful and disgusting as she. She had destroyed the innocence and decency he’d brought from the countryside. He was now a womanizer!

Even worse, what if Fourth Master Liu found out? Did he know that his daughter was used goods? If not, then all the blame would be Xiangzi’s, wouldn’t it? But if he knew and had no control over her, then what kind of people were they? And what kind of person would he be for mixing with the likes of them? He wouldn’t marry her even if they were both willing, not even if the old man owned six hundred or six thousand rickshaws. He had to get away from Harmony Shed, sever relations with them, and do it now. He could buy a rickshaw and find a wife without relying on anyone else; that’s how things were done. With this thought, he raised his head with renewed confidence in his manhood. There was nothing to fear, nothing to worry about. He’d get what he wanted; all he had to do was work hard.

But after losing two fares, his anxieties returned. He tried not to think about what had happened, but his mind would not cooperate. This was different from anything in his experience, and even if it was a problem he could solve, he couldn’t brush it aside. His body felt unclean, and something black that had entered his heart could not be washed away. Despite his hatred of her, his disgust, she had her claws in him, and the more he tried to stop thinking about her, the more often she leaped out of his mind, naked, offering him both her ugliness and her beauty. It was like buying a pile of junk and finding amid the rusting metals a few irresistible baubles. He had never been that intimate with anyone before, and though it was a seduction that had occurred without warning, it was not the sort of relationship he could forget. He might try to push it to the back of his mind, but it would spin its web there and take hold. This was more than just a new experience—it also disturbed him in ways he could not describe. Feeling lost, he could not deal with her, with himself, with the present, or with the future; like an insect caught in a spiderweb, to struggle was futile.

In his disoriented state, Xiangzi pulled a couple of fares, but even as he ran he could not stop thinking about this business, and not in a clear, methodical fashion. Rather, random bits and pieces surfaced in his head—a particular meaning or feeling or emotion, vague and yet close and very personal. He had a strong urge to drink himself into oblivion, all alone. Maybe that would make him happy and lessen his torment. But he didn’t dare start something that would be his undoing. He thought again about buying a rickshaw but could not stay focused, for something always interfered with his thoughts. It wormed its way into his head even before he could picture the rickshaw and blocked his thoughts like a dark cloud blotting out the sun. When night fell, and it was time to knock off for the day, he felt even worse. He had to return to Harmony Shed but was afraid to. What would he do if he ran into her? He wandered the streets pulling an empty rickshaw, nearing the yard but not entering it, like a truant child afraid to go home.

Strangely, the more he wanted to avoid an encounter, the more he actually looked forward to seeing her, and the darker the sky grew, the more intense was this desire. An audacious if confused obsession had a firm grip on his heart, even though he knew it was wrong. As a boy, he’d once stirred up a hornets’ nest with a pole, a yearning to see what would happen driving out his fear, as if a demonic power were behind him, goading him on. In his uncertain mood, he now felt that a force greater than himself was rolling him into a ball and throwing it into a roaring fire. He was powerless to keep himself from moving ahead.

He made another turn around Xi’an Gate. This time he would not delay but would go looking for her. She no longer had an identity; she was just a woman. He felt hot all over and had barely reached the gate when a middle-aged man walked into the light of the overhead lamp. He thought he recognized the man but couldn’t be sure. Instinctively, he said, “Rickshaw?”

The man stopped in his tracks. “Xiangzi, is that you?”

“Yes,” Xiangzi replied with a smile. “Mr. Cao?”

Mr. Cao smiled and nodded. “Xiangzi, if you’re not working for anyone, how about coming to my place? The man I have now is too lazy even to wipe down the rickshaw, though he does run like a racehorse. What do you say?”

“How could I refuse, sir?” Xiangzi seemed to have forgotten even how to smile. He wiped his face with a towel. “When should I start?”

“Let’s see,” Mr. Cao said, as he thought a moment. “How about the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, sir.” Xiangzi also paused to think for a moment. “Can I take you home now, sir?”

“No need. After I returned from that visit to Shanghai, we moved. I live on Beichang Street now and come out at night for walks. I’ll see you in two days.” Mr. Cao gave Xiangzi his new address, and then added, “We’ll use my rickshaw.”

Xiangzi was so happy he could fly. All the troubles of the past few days vanished, like paving stones washed clean by the rain. He had worked for Mr. Cao in the past, and though they had been together only a short time, they had gotten along well. Mr. Cao was a kind man with a small family—a wife and a young son.

Xiangzi ran his rickshaw back to Harmony Shed, where the light in Huniu’s room still shone. He froze on the spot and stood there awhile before deciding to go in and tell her he’d found another monthly hire. After turning over the rental money he owed for the two days, he’d ask for his savings, and that would put an end to their relationship; she’d understand without his saying so.

First he parked his rickshaw, then walked back and, screwing up his courage, called out, “Miss Liu.”

“Come in!”

He pushed open the door. She was sprawled on the bed in her everyday clothes and barefoot. She didn’t move. “So,” she said, “back for some more of the good stuff?”

Xiangzi blushed, turning as red as a dyed egg. He was tongue-tied for a moment before he said slowly, “I’ve got another job—I start the day after tomorrow. He has his own rickshaw.”

“You really don’t know what’s good for you, do you?” She sat up and, with an exasperated smile, pointed at him. “There’s food and clothing for you here, but you can’t be happy unless you’re sweating like a pig, is that it? The old man has no control over me, and I don’t plan to spend the rest of my days as a spinster. Even if he turns bullheaded, I’ve got enough put aside for you and me to own two or three rickshaws, which would bring in at least one yuan a day. Isn’t that better than running your legs off day in and day out? What’s so bad about me? I may be older than you, but not by much, and I can pamper you.”

“But I want to pull a rickshaw!” It was the only argument Xiangzi had.

“You’re a real bonehead!” she said. “Sit down. I won’t bite.” She smiled, showing her fang-like canines. Xiangzi sat down, obviously jittery. “Where’s my money?”

“The old man has it. Don’t worry, it’s safe. But don’t ask him for it now. You know his temper. Ask for it when you’ve got enough to buy a rickshaw. If you try it now, you’ll be lucky to hold on to your soul! He’s been good to you, and you won’t lose it. If there’s anything missing, I’ll double it. You’ve got the head of a peasant, so be careful I don’t bite it off!”

There was nothing Xiangzi could say, so he fumbled in his trousers to dig out the two days’ rental fee and laid it on the table. “That’s for two days.” Then he added as an afterthought, “I’m turning in my rickshaw. I’ll take tomorrow off.” Taking time off was the last thing he wanted, but that made it a clean break. He’d turn in his rickshaw and not spend another night at Harmony Shed.

Huniu came over, picked up the money, and stuffed it back into his pocket. “You’re a lucky guy, getting me and a rickshaw for two days free of charge. Just don’t be ungrateful.” She turned and locked the door from inside.

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

X
iangzi moved into the Cao home.

He felt guilty about Huniu, but it was her seduction that had caused the trouble. Besides, he had no designs on her money and did not feel that a clean break was in any way unfair. The one thing that did bother him was that Fourth Master Liu was holding his money. The old man might wonder what was going on if he asked for it now, but steering clear of them could set Huniu off, and if she revealed what had happened, he might never see his money again. And by trusting his savings to the old man, he was sure to run into her whenever he went to Harmony Shed—that would be awkward. Unable to concoct a way out, he grew increasingly uneasy.

Ideally, he could ask Mr. Cao for advice, but that would mean telling him what had happened with Huniu. Filled with remorse, he began to understand that the relationship could not be severed so easily. It was a stain that could not be washed away. Through no fault of his own, he had lost his rickshaw, and through no fault of his own, he now found himself in a quandary. He might as well admit it—his life was effectively over. However badly he wanted to outshine others, he was doomed to fail. After looking at the situation from every angle, only one thing became clear: in the end, he would have to put his pride aside and marry Huniu, but not because he wanted to. Could he have been swayed by talk of those few rickshaws? “A cuckold eats leftovers,” as the saying goes. That was an unbearable thought, but it might come to that. He would just have to keep doing what he did best and see what happened. Keeping busy was good; waiting around was bad. Gone was his self-confidence. His size, strength, and heart all counted for little. His life was now in the hands of someone else, and a nasty piece of work that someone was.

By rights he should have been happy, since the Cao family was the best he had ever worked for. The pay was no better than at other places and was enhanced only by modest bonuses at the three annual festivals. But Mr. and Mrs. Cao were good-hearted people who treated everyone with kindness and dignity. Xiangzi was eager, desperate even, to earn a bit more, but having a decent place to live and enough to eat counted for quite a lot. The Cao home was always clean and tidy, including the servants’ quarters; the food was appetizing and wholesome; and they never fed the help on leftovers. With a clean, spacious room of his own and the leisure to enjoy three meals a day, not to mention the humane treatment, Xiangzi—even Xiangzi—knew that there was more to life than the single-minded pursuit of money. An added benefit was that good food and lodging, when combined with a relaxed work schedule, made it possible to get back into shape. If he had been obliged to buy his own food, he would not have eaten nearly as well; now, with regular meals and no need to grovel for them, he’d have been a fool not to eat his fill. Food, after all, cost money, and he knew what that meant. Finding work that provided good food, a clean room, and the chance to be a presentable human being was nothing to scoff at. Even though the Caos did not play mahjong and seldom invited guests over, which reduced the chance for a nice tip here and there, he performed odd jobs for them, which earned him a little extra. If, for instance, Mrs. Cao asked him to pick up some medicine for one of the children, she would add ten cents and tell him to hire a rickshaw for the ride, knowing full well that he could outrun the best of them. It wasn’t much, but the gesture, an expression of understanding, meant a lot to him. Xiangzi had worked for several employers, nine out of ten of whom would be late paying wages to show that they would rather not pay at all, since, in their view, servants were little more than dogs or cats, if that. The Caos were different, and he was happy in their home. He gladly swept out the courtyard and watered the flowers without being asked. And they always rewarded him with a kind word. They even hunted up old, used objects for him to exchange for matches, though he would keep them for himself because they were still usable. This was the place for him, thanks to them.

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