The riverbank was a flurry of activity by the time we reached it with our raft. All those missing boats had miraculously reappeared. Dozens of rafts had been put in the water along with the boats. The rafts were fitted with gourds, inner tubes, and Styrofoam. Someone had even shown up with a large wooden basin. People were pouring out of the lanes with baskets of peaches, heading for the boats and rafts all tied to willow trees on the bank.
Dozens of draft animals were lined up on the riverbank, including mules and donkeys that were loaded down with full saddlebag baskets.
A commune cadre swam over and put on a raincoat, rolled up his pant cuffs, and held his sandals in his hand as he shouted instructions.
I saw a raft in front of ours that was a thing of beauty. Four thick China fir poles were tied together with rawhide into a tic-tac-toe grid. The centre was constructed of logs as thick as scythe handles, with four red, fully inflated inner tubes from a horse-drawn wagon. A dozen or more full baskets barely had any effect on the raft, testimony to the high quality flotation of the inner tubes. Vertical poles — one in each corner and a fifth in the centre — supported a light blue plastic tarpaulin as protection against both sunlight and rain. It was not the sort of raft that could be thrown together in a hurry.
Wang Jiao in a conical palm bark hat and a palm bark cape crouched in front of the raft like a fisherman.
Our raft, which could only hold six baskets, sat deep in the water. Father insisted on adding two more. All right, I said, but I’ll go alone. You stay here.
He objected, probably out of concern that it was only my second day in the new marriage. Don’t argue, Dad. Look out there and tell me if you see anyone else your age punting a raft.
Then you be careful.
Don’t worry, I said. I may not be good at much, but I know what I’m doing on the water.
If it gets choppy, toss the peaches into the river, Father said.
Don’t worry about that.
I waved to Little Lion on the riverbank, where she was holding Yanyan’s hand.
She waved back.
Father untied the rope around the tree and tossed it to me.
I caught it, rolled it up, picked up my pole, and shoved off; the heavy raft moved slowly out onto the river.
Careful!
Be careful!
I punted fairly close to the riverbank, moving slowly.
The mules and donkeys kept pace with the water traffic, their loads weighing heavily on them, bells that had been draped around their necks by fastidious household heads ringing out crisply. Old folks and youngsters followed the burdened animals up to the head of the village.
There the river made a sharp bend and the flotilla entered a rapid flow. Instead of letting the current carry him forward, Wang Jiao, whose raft had been ahead of me, punted to the opposite bank at the bend, where the water was calmer, and the brush-covered bank was home to chirping cicadas. From the moment I saw his fancy raft, I’d had a bad feeling, and I was right to. Wang Jiao abruptly dumped his baskets into the water, where they floated lightly. They contained no peaches. He moved up close to the brush, where I saw Chen Bi jump onto the raft with his pregnant wife in his arms. Wang Gan followed, with Chen Er in his arms.
They quickly took down the plastic cloth canopy and turned it into a curtain as Wang Jiao picked up his punting pole and recaptured his glory days standing on the shafts of his cart and snapping a whip at his team, as impressive as ever. He stood straight and tall, proving that Gugu knew what she was talking about when she said his hobble and stooped carriage were all an act. And he’d only pretended to sever ties with his son, since at this critical moment they stormed the battlefield together. That aside, I instinctively wished them well, hoping they’d be able to deliver Wang Dan to wherever they planned to take her. Of course, when I thought about all that Gugu had invested in this affair, my sympathy rang somewhat hollow.
Wang Jiao’s raft floated high and light on the water despite the weight of his load, and he outpaced the rest of us with ease.
Small wooden boats and rafts entered the water from both banks all along the river. By the time we reached Dongfeng Village, where Gugu’s head had been clubbed bloody, hundreds of rafts and boats had formed a long dragon in the heart of the river sailing along with the flow.
I couldn’t keep my eye off of Wang Jiao’s raft, which, although it was far ahead of the rest of us, was still within sight.
His was the proudest raft on the river, not doubt about that. It was like a Hummer Predator in a line of ordinary sedans.
More than proud, it was mysterious. People who had witnessed what happened at the bend in the river obviously knew the identities of the secret passengers. People who hadn’t, cocked their heads to get a glimpse behind the curtain, because no matter what else it might be shielding, it assuredly was not peaches.
As I think back now, the sight of Gugu’s family-planning boat racing past us at full speed was indescribably thrilling. This was no longer the 1970 variety with its local-made motor. No, this was a white, streamlined speedboat with an acrylic windscreen on its semi-enclosed cabin. Once again Qin He piloted the boat, but he was now completely grey. Gugu and my bride, Little Lion, stood at the rear of the cabin, holding on to a railing, their clothes billowing in the wind. I viewed the sight of Little Lion’s rounded breasts with mixed emotions. Four men sat behind the two women. The boat nearly swamped my raft and the eddies it created caused me to pitch and roll. Little Lion had to see me as they sped close by, but she didn’t wave. The Little Lion of the few days after we were married had become a different person. A sense of unreality floated into my head; I felt as if I’d only dreamed the events of recent days. Little Lion’s display of indifference spurred me to root for the fugitives: Hurry and get away, Wang Dan. Pole harder, Wang Jiao.
The speedboat cut through the flotilla on its way towards Wang Jiao’s raft, ahead and to the right.
Instead of passing Wang Jiao, Gugu pulled up alongside and slowed until the sound of the engine virtually died out. No more than three metres separated the two craft. The speedboat gradually closed the gap, obviously in an attempt to force the raft to the riverbank. Wang Jiao stuck his pole against the side of the speedboat, thinking that would decrease the danger. But it had the opposite effect, pushing the raft farther out of the flow.
A man on the boat caught the plastic cloth with a pole functioning as a gaff and tore it with a loud ripping noise. A couple more twists brought everything that had been hidden into full view.
Wang Jiao swung his pole at the man on the boat, who warded off the blow with his pole. Wang Gan and Chen Bi picked up oars and began rowing for all they were worth, one on each side of the raft. Sitting between them was the pocket-sized Wang Dan, holding Chen Er in her left arm, the baby’s head tucked into her armpit, and covering her rounded abdomen with the right. Her shrill cries broke through the din of battling poles and crashing waves: Gugu, have some mercy and let us go!