Rickshaw Boy: A Novel (32 page)

But, Xiangzi, from now on you must always do your best!
he cautioned himself.
Why wouldn’t I want to do my best? I have the will, the strength, and my youth.
In defense of himself, he replied,
Once I’m happy, no one can stop me from marrying and enjoying success at my trade. After what’s happened to me lately, who could keep from going downhill in dejection? But that’s all in the past. Tomorrow you will all be introduced to a new Xiangzi, even better than before, much better!

His legs seemed invigorated by his muttering, as if to prove that it was not meaningless talk.
I’ve got what it takes to carry this out. So what if I was sick or that I contracted a social disease? This change of heart will make me well and strong again. No problem!
He had worked up a sweat and a thirst. Thoughts of finding something to drink woke him up to his surroundings—he’d arrived at Rear Gate. Rather than go to a teahouse, he parked his rickshaw in the lot west of the gate and summoned a boy selling tea from a clay pot; he drank two bowls of an insipid liquid that passed for tea but tasted like dishwater. It was terrible, but he vowed that that was what he’d drink from then on; no more wasting money on good food and drink. Having made up his mind to live austerely, he decided to get something to eat—something that did not go down easily—to mark the beginning of a new life, dedicated to hard work and privation. He bought ten leathery, crusty griddlecakes filled with cabbage leaves and managed to get them down, despite the foul taste. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and asked himself,
Where to now?

He could think of only two people he could go to and count on. To fulfill his promise to make something of himself, he would have to go see them both—Fuzi and Mr. Cao. Mr. Cao was a wise man who would be forgiving and helpful; he would tell Xiangzi what to do. After taking Mr. Cao’s advice on dealing with the outside world, he’d go to Fuzi, who would be his helpmate at home. It was a flawless plan.

But had Mr. Cao returned home? Never mind, he’d go to Beichang Street the next day and ask around. If there was no news, he’d check with Mr. Zuo. Once he found Mr. Cao, his problems were solved.
All right, then,
he said to himself,
I’ll haul fares tonight, and then go find Mr. Cao tomorrow. After that, I’ll give Fuzi the good news that I had made a mess of things, but that’s all in the past. Now it’s time for you and me to set out on life’s road together.

Xiangzi’s plans lit up his eyes as he searched the area for fares like a hawk, and when he spotted one he nearly flew to it. He was out of his padded robe even before settling the fee, and once he started out, though his legs lacked the power of earlier days, he ran all out, spurred on by a heat that coursed through his body. The same old Xiangzi. When he ran like that, no one could keep up with him. He overtook every rickshaw ahead, like a man possessed. Sweat streamed from him. His body felt lighter after his first trip, and there was renewed spring in his step. He wanted to keep running, like a fine racehorse that paws the ground when it hasn’t run enough. He did not quit for the day until one in the morning, when he returned to the shed with the day’s rent, plus ninety cents.

He went straight to bed and slept till daybreak. Then he rolled over and did not open his eyes again till the sun was high in the sky. There is nothing sweeter than a good rest after a hard workout. He got up and stretched, limbering up his cracking joints. His stomach was empty; he was famished.

After getting something to eat, with a little laugh he said to the shed boss, “I have something to do, so I’ll be taking the day off.” He had it all worked out: he’d take care of his personal business today and start his new life tomorrow.

First he headed to Beichang Street to see if Mr. Cao had moved back, intoning a silent prayer as he walked:
Please, Mr. Cao, be there, don’t let me come up empty. If things go bad at the beginning, nothing will come out right in the end. Heaven won’t desert Xiangzi, now that he’s turned his life around, will it?

He rang the bell at Mr. Cao’s gate with a trembling hand. His heart nearly leaped out of his breast as he waited for someone to come to a gate he knew so well. He had no time to think about all that had happened; he just wanted to see the gate open to a familiar face. He waited, beginning to suspect that there was no one home. Why else would it be so dreadfully quiet? Suddenly, there was a noise on the other side; it gave him a momentary fright, like hearing something stir when you are keeping vigil at a bier. The door opened, its creaky hinges accompanied by the dearest, most affectionate sound he could have hoped for: “Oh!” It was Gao Ma.

“Xiangzi, how long has it been? Look how thin you are!” She, on the other hand, had put on weight.

“Is the master home?” was all he could say.

“Yes, but aren’t you something! You can ask about the master but pretend we don’t know each other, not even a ‘How do you do?’ Always the timid carpenter, too scared to saw wood. Come in. How’ve you done for yourself?”

“Not so good.” He smiled.

“Master,” Gao Ma said outside the study. “Xiangzi’s here.” Mr. Cao was moving some narcissus plants into the sunlight.

“Come in!”

“Go on in. You and I can talk later. I’ll go tell the mistress you’re here. We often talk about you. A fool and his dumb luck.” She walked off talking to herself.

Xiangzi entered the study. “I’m back, Master.” He wanted to ask how the old man was doing but couldn’t get the words out.

“Ah, Xiangzi.” Mr. Cao, who stood there in a mandarin jacket, was wearing a kindly smile. “Sit down, um…” He thought for a moment. “We’ve been back quite a while. Old Cheng told us you were—let’s see, Harmony Shed, I think. Gao Ma went looking for you but didn’t find you. Sit down. How’ve you been? How about work?”

Tears were about to spill out of Xiangzi’s eyes. He was incapable of telling people what he felt because that was written in blood and buried deep in his heart. It took a moment to calm down and try to turn that blood into simple words that would flow from his heart. It was all right there in his memory, and once he arranged it, little by little, he could narrate a living history. How significant it would be he did not know, but all the wrongs he’d suffered were clear and distinct.

Mr. Cao could see that Xiangzi was deep in thought, so he sat down to wait quietly for him to say something.

For what seemed like a long time, Xiangzi just stood there with his head bowed. Then he abruptly looked up at Mr. Cao, as if to suggest that he would say nothing if no one was interested in hearing him out.

“Go ahead, say it.” Mr. Cao nodded.

So Xiangzi told what had happened to him, starting with how he’d come to the city from the countryside. He hadn’t planned on mentioning such trivial facts of his past, but skipping them would have made it difficult to put the rest of his life in context. His memory was formed by blood, sweat, and suffering, and mustn’t reveal itself lightly, leaving anything out. Every drop of sweat, every ounce of blood, flowed from his life, so everything that had happened was worth relating.

How he worked as a coolie laborer immediately after coming into the city, and then began pulling a rickshaw. How he scraped together enough to buy his own rickshaw, and how it was lost…he told of his life all the way up to the present. Even he was surprised by how much he had said and how natural it had felt. One after another, events in his life seemed to leap from his heart, each finding the words appropriate to its description. One sentence followed another, all honest and true, all endearing and tragic. He was powerless to keep the events bottled up, and so the words were unstoppable, with no hesitation or confusion. He seemed to want to empty his heart in one prolonged breath. A sense of relief built as he spoke, quickly forgetting himself, since he was now part and parcel of his narration. He was there in every sentence—ambitious, wronged, hardworking, degraded, all him. When he finished, his brow was sweaty, his heart empty, comfortably empty, the sort of comfort someone feels after passing out and coming to covered in a cold sweat.

“Now you want me to tell you what to do, is that it?” Mr. Cao said.

Xiangzi nodded. Now that he’d said his piece, he was reluctant to say more.

“You still want to pull a rickshaw?”

Again Xiangzi nodded. It was all he knew how to do.

“Well, since that’s what you want,” Mr. Cao said slowly, “you have two choices. One is to save up to buy your own rickshaw, the other to rent one from someone else. Don’t you agree? Since you have no savings, you could borrow money to buy a rickshaw, but you’d have to pay interest on the loan, so what’s the difference? You’re better off renting one for now and finding a monthly job. It’s steady work with a place to stay and free food. Your best bet would be to come work for me again, but since I sold my rickshaw to Mr. Zuo, you’d have to rent one. What do you say?”

“That sounds wonderful!” Xiangzi stood up. “Have you forgotten that other affair, sir?”

“What affair is that?”

“That time you and the mistress moved in with the Zuos.”

“Oh, that!” Mr. Cao laughed. “I forgot that long ago. I was on pins and needles then, so the wife and I went to Shanghai for a few months. We really didn’t have to, since Mr. Zuo took care of everything. That fellow Ruan Ming is an official now, and he doesn’t seem inclined to give me any trouble. But you don’t know about any of this, so don’t give it another thought. Let’s talk about you. What about that Fuzi you mentioned—what’s her situation?”

“I don’t know.”

“Off the top of my head, I’d say you can’t afford to marry her and find a place to live; you don’t have enough for the rent alone, let alone the coal and lamp oil you’d need. Finding work, with you pulling a rickshaw and her working as a maid for the same household, would be harder than you think. Don’t get me wrong, but I need to ask: Is she trustworthy?”

As his face reddened, Xiangzi stammered, “She only did what she did because she had no choice. She’s a good person, I’ll stake my life on it! She…” His heart was tied up in knots, as a welter of emotions came together, then flew apart and rushed out. He was at a loss for words.

“If that’s the case,” Mr. Cao said hesitantly, “I guess I can put you up here. I have a vacant room; whether for you alone or the two of you, it makes no difference. Do you know if she can wash and mend clothes? If she can, then she can help Gao Ma. The mistress is going to have a baby soon, which will be too much for Gao Ma to handle by herself. The girl will get room and board but no wages. What do you say to that?”

“That would be wonderful.” Xiangzi wore a childishly innocent smile.

“But first I have to check with the mistress. This isn’t something I can decide on my own.”

“I understand. If she has any concerns, I’ll bring Fuzi over to let her see for herself.”

“Good.” Mr. Cao also smiled, pleasantly surprised by Xiangzi’s grasp of the situation. “All right, then, I’ll mention it to the mistress, then you bring Fuzi over in a couple of days. If the mistress gives the nod, that’s how we’ll do it.”

“May I go now, sir?” Xiangzi was anxious to find Fuzi and give her the unimaginably good news.

It was nearly eleven o’clock when Xiangzi left the Cao house, the most captivating time of a winter day. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the blue sky, with the sun shining down through the cool, dry air, bringing with it a refreshing warmth. The crisp sound of roosters’ crows, dogs’ barks, and peddlers’ shouts carried a long way; noise made on one street could be heard clearly on the next street over, like the cries of a crane raining down from the sky. The rain hoods on rickshaws were pulled back; the brass fittings sparkled. Camels walked alongside the pavement, slow and steady; automobiles and trams sped up and down the streets. People and horses on the ground and birds passing overhead lent the ancient city a bustling tranquility, joyously chaotic and joyously serene. The blue sky overlay all the sound and the richness of life below, surrounded by trees standing tall and silent.

Xiangzi felt as if his heart were soaring into the sky, where it wheeled along with the pigeons. He had everything: a job, wages, and Fuzi. Those few words had solved all his problems. It was more than he’d dreamed of. What a crisp, clear sky, just like the straightforward, easygoing people of the north. When good things happen to a man, even the weather cooperates. He could not recall a more captivating winter day. To celebrate his happiness, he bought a frozen persimmon, and when he bit into it, the freezing juice seeped down to the roots of his teeth and spread all the way to his chest, making him shudder. He finished it off in a few bites, numbing his tongue and gladdening his heart. As he strode off, in his mind’s eye he could see the compound, the little room, and his beloved Fuzi. If only he could sprout wings and fly to her! One sight would erase all the bad things that had happened and give him a new start in life. He was even more expectant now than he’d been when he went to see Mr. Cao. The older man was his friend and master, each of them helping the other. But she was more than a friend; she was going to give herself to him, and two people would emerge from their hell on earth, wipe away their tears, and walk forward hand in hand. What Mr. Cao said had moved him, but Fuzi could move him without saying a word. He had spoken openly and honestly with Mr. Cao and planned to open his heart to Fuzi when he saw her, saying things he would never say to another living person. She was his life; without her, nothing would have any meaning. He could no longer labor just to feed himself. He must rescue her from the room she lived in so they could be together where it was warm and clean, as happy and respectable and affectionate as a pair of lovebirds. She could stop worrying about Er Qiangzi and her two brothers and become Xiangzi’s partner. Er Qiangzi could take care of himself, and her brothers could manage by pulling a rickshaw in tandem or find another trade. But Xiangzi could not do without her. He needed her in every aspect of his life—physical, emotional, even his work—and she needed a man like him.