Father would become even more pale than usual. He was dressed properly, but he might as well not have been wearing a shirt or those nylon trousers. His shameful genitalia were like an exposed target, inviting dart-like gazes from everyone. He could have worn a thousand pairs of trousers and still not have been able to keep his lower body out of sight. He would hold out as long as he could before thrusting his journal into his jacket pocket and, forcing himself to remain as calm as possible, say, ‘I haven’t seen you comrades for a long time. I hope you’re all well.’ They’d nod and mumble a response, gazing up and down, looking at him curiously. He knew what it was they cared about, but he lacked the courage to talk about it. So he’d gaze into the cloud-filled sky. ‘Nice weather,’ he’d say, just as thunder crackled, and the people would look skyward. Then they’d look back at Father with puzzled expressions and mutterings of surprise on their lips.
Dayong, from barge number five, once cackled and said, ‘Is he seeing things? It’s going to start raining any minute, and he’s talking about nice weather!’
That was more than I could take. I pushed Father back towards the cabin. ‘Go on inside,’ I said, like a father ordering his son. ‘Go in and read.’ Knowing what I was doing, he went and stood beneath the hatch, an embarrassed look on his face, as I turned my attention to the others. First I shoved Dayong. ‘Go on!’ I said. ‘Get off our barge.’ Then I pushed his sister. ‘Get off, go back to number five.’
That had the desired effect on the adults, who wisely took their leave. ‘Time to go,’ they said. ‘Let the poor little mite get some sleep.’
But Yingtao’s mother was determined to let me know that she was unhappy. She left a mystifying comment in her wake: ‘I’d like to know what that boy and his father have in mind, hiding a little girl in their cabin like that.’
That really upset Desheng’s wife. ‘How can anyone respond to a mean, ugly comment like that?’ she said, trying her best to defend us. ‘Watch what you’re saying, Yingtao’s mother, or you might wake up tomorrow with your mouth twisted out of shape from a stroke.’
The fleet’s mysterious gift was now under the protection, however temporary, of Father and me. We headed downriver with an unrelated girl aboard. Our corduroy sofa was now a boat within a boat. After we passed the duck farm, the river widened and there was less traffic, the sound of churning water in our wake a potent contrast to the deathly silence aboard the barge, silence that was abruptly shattered by our little passenger, who cried out in her dreams, ‘Mama!’ Father and I were startled by her shrill cry, but fortunately, she slept on. She rolled over, apparently agitated, but then lay peacefully again. One of her socks had fallen off; her pale toes, which were pointing at me, quivered slightly.
We stood in the doorway keeping watch over the sleeping girl. Father seemed morose as he looked down at the water. I knew how fragile he was; humiliation greeted him each time he emerged from the cabin, and he was wallowing in feelings of shame. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off the muted light Huixian’s naked foot gave off, and had the sudden feeling that the light somehow broke through the loneliness and depression that never seemed to leave barge number seven. Father and I were each occupied with our own thoughts. For some strange reason, my heart was flooded with happiness, but in the face of Father’s dejection, I had to keep that to myself.
Desheng and his wife came over to check on our passenger as we were passing Deer Bridge Village. I can’t pin it down, but there was something sneaky about their behaviour. ‘Is she being a good girl?’ Desheng asked.
‘She’s still sleeping,’ I said. ‘How am I supposed to know if she’s a good girl or not?’
Desheng looked first at me, then at Father, then nudged his wife conspiratorially. ‘Don’t you have something to say? There’s no one around, now’s the time.’
She glared at him. ‘I wasn’t serious,’ she said.
Father looked at Desheng and his wife, not sure what was going on. ‘If you’ve got something to say, say it,’ he said. ‘We’re neighbours, one boat after the other, so don’t treat me like a stranger.’
Desheng’s wife squirmed bashfully as she pointed to our cabin and smiled. ‘It’s nothing, really. It’s just that when I look at that little girl, for some reason I think about my own childhood, when my parents abandoned me on a pier, and my future mother-inlaw took me aboard their barge until I was old enough to marry Desheng. Everyone says she was a wise and benevolent woman whose good deeds earned her a daughter-in-law.’
Desheng urged his wife to say what she’d come to say. ‘You’re evading the issue.’
‘Secretary Ku,’ she said, ‘please don’t think I’m meddling, but you really ought to have a woman aboard your barge. The way I see it, Fate has brought this girl and barge number seven together — or, more to the point, brought her and Dongliang together. I’ve never seen him be this good to anyone, and if you let her stay, who knows, when she grows up …’
Father didn’t give her a chance to finish. ‘No,’ he said, ‘that’s not going to work. What you’re talking about is raising a child bride.’ Still smiling, he waved his hands to dismiss the idea. ‘I know you mean well, but there’s a principle involved. We’re capable of overcoming any hardship, we’re materialists. We don’t believe in Fate and we definitely reject the feudal concept of valuing boys over girls.’
The views of Desheng’s wife made me blush. I didn’t know what to make of them. She rolled her eyes at her husband. ‘You see, I told you Secretary Ku wouldn’t go along with it. But you forced me to say it.’ She cast a look of pity my way. ‘You men know nothing about girls. She’s going to grow up to be a real beauty.’ She sighed and stuck her head into the cabin to listen to the girl’s deep, even breathing. ‘Hear that? She’s snoring like a little piglet.’
Desheng’s wife left a few ears of corn for Huixian, as the sky darkened over the river and night settled in. As the shore turned dark, so did our cabin. The little girl slept on. All of a sudden, a strange feeling arose between Father and me. I sensed that he wanted to explain something, but didn’t know where to start, while I felt like making something known, but was too embarrassed to do so. He hung up a lantern and turned up the wick, bringing light to the cabin. He had a worried look on his face as he bent down to get a closer look at the girl. ‘No good,’ he blurted out. ‘This won’t work.’
‘What do you mean, no good? What won’t work?’
‘It’s dark out, night’s coming. We can’t keep her on our barge.’
I guessed what was on his mind, and was deeply disappointed. ‘Are you still worried that people will talk? She’s just a snotty-nosed little girl. Anyone who talks is full of shit!’
In the lamplight I could see he was thinking hard. ‘Getting angry at me doesn’t solve anything,’ he said. ‘We have to go on with our tails between our legs. There’s nothing wrong with worrying. She may be little, but she’s still a female. She has to go.’
Gossip is a fearful thing. I couldn’t see all the possibilities, and knew I had to do as he said, so I put Huixian’s sock back on and patted her on the foot. ‘Wake up,’ I said. ‘It’s time to go.’
She kicked me and mumbled, ‘Don’t bother me, I’m sleepy,’ before rolling over to go back to sleep.
‘No more sleeping,’ I said. ‘It’s dark outside and we have a tiger on board that comes out at night to eat little girls.’
She sat up like a shot and glared at me. ‘Liar,’ she said. ‘You’re lying.’ She tried to lie back down, but, like a coolie, I picked her up and hoisted her over my shoulder. I felt her struggle briefly against my back, but now that she was awake, her first thoughts were of her mother. ‘Then hurry up and help me find my mama,’ she demanded.