‘That’s not your decision,’ Desheng said, cutting his wife off. ‘The principle here is democratic centralism, with democracy coming first. We’re going to have to draw lots.’
That evening, Sun Ximing’s second son, Erfu, ran from boat to boat, notifying people that they would all be drawing lots. ‘Each boat must send a representative to barge number one!’ he cried at the top of his lungs. ‘Everybody must participate.’
When Father heard Erfu’s shouts he asked, ‘What are we drawing lots for?’
‘For the girl,’ I told him. ‘For Huixian.’
‘Ridiculous!’ he exclaimed. ‘They can’t do that!’
‘Will we send a representative?’
He paused. ‘I guess so, since it’s a collective matter. We can’t shirk our duty. But they have to know where we stand. If our lot is drawn, they’ll have to draw again. You go.’
It didn’t take long for the representatives to gather on Sun’s boat. Many of them could not sit still, they were so nervous. The reasons varied. Desheng was afraid he wouldn’t be lucky enough to draw the winning lot. For Six-Fingers Wang it was the opposite. He tried to steel himself against the possibility that he’d actually be too lucky. ‘We already have too many children for our ration of food,’ he said. ‘If the girl came to us, she’d have to eat from a communal supply.’
Sun Ximing’s wife rebuffed this selfish remark. ‘You needn’t worry that she’d put you in the poor house. Taking care of the girl is a joint responsibility, no matter who she winds up with.’
After cutting a hole in a shoebox lid, Sun wrapped the box in a red cloth. Then he placed it on the bow and stuck in his hand to draw the first lot. After fishing around for a few seconds he pulled out a white slip. With disappointment in his eyes, he turned to his wife. ‘I told you to do it, but you said no. Women are luckier than men. You should have drawn it.’
Everyone from barge number one to number six drew out a white slip. Now it was my turn. ‘Is number seven supposed to participate?’ someone asked. ‘What happens if Dongliang draws the winning lot? We can’t turn the girl over to him and his dad. They don’t know how to bring up a child.’
Disgusted by their attitude, I said, ‘What makes you think we can’t? I’m drawing, whether you want me to or not.’
Sun’s wife stepped up to smooth things over. ‘Dongliang,’ she said, ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you. We’re only thinking of what’s best for you.’
‘Will it count if I draw the winning lot?’ I asked.
Placed in an awkward situation, she stared at the box. ‘What are the chances, anyway?’ she remarked. ‘Go ahead, give it a try, since you’re here.’
I rolled up my sleeves and thrust my hand into the box. You can guess what happened. To everyone’s astonishment, I pulled out a coloured slip with a drawing of a little girl with dark eyes and pigtails tied up with big ribbons. It was signed in a juvenile scrawclass="underline" ‘Huixian.’ I’d won.
I held it high and stared at Sun Ximing. ‘Well?’ I said excitedly. ‘I got it. Now what?’
There was a long moment of silence before someone shouted out, ‘No deal! Put it back and let the rest of us draw.’
‘Put it back? What kind of lottery is that? I won’t do it.’
Everyone stared at me, wondering if I meant what I said. ‘You’re not serious, Dongliang, are you? Keeping it means you have to take her back to your boat. Is that really what you want?’
I didn’t know what to say. For some reason my face felt burning hot. Still holding the slip up in the air, I didn’t want to give in, but lacked the courage to proceed. Then I heard some of the women laugh strangely, while the men made their opinions known in a confusion of noise.
Covering his ears with his hands, Sun bellowed, ‘Stop the bickering! You’re giving me a headache.’ Then he looked at me. ‘Dongliang,’ he said warily, ‘why don’t you put that back in and draw again.’ He made as if to take the slip from me, but I pushed his hand away. He stumbled backward, clearly embarrassed. ‘Dongliang,’ he said angrily, ‘you’re holding on to that like it was ten goddamn yuan. This is not something to be taken lightly. In case you haven’t noticed, the masses are opposed to your keeping this slip. Besides, the girl deserves a chance to say if she wants to live on your boat.’
So now it was up to Huixian. I recall that she was playing cat’s cradle with Xiaofu the whole time. She twirled the thread in her hands, forming beautiful, complicated shapes in the air. ‘I don’t care,’ she announced. ‘It makes no difference to me.’ The nonchalant manner in which she said it belied her young age, and everyone stopped, even me. I hadn’t expected that.
Sun Ximing’s wife was the first to gather her wits about her. ‘That’s no answer, my little ancestor,’ she said. ‘This is too important for you to say you don’t care.’
Then Desheng’s wife sidled up to her, anxiously hoping the girl would prefer her. She held a finger up to her face and rolled her eyes as a sign to the girl. Then I heard Yingtao’s mother gloat sarcastically, sensing an opportunity to provoke Sun’s wife. ‘Now can you tell which boat is a good one,’ she pressed her, ‘and which one is bad? You thought the girl liked you best because you have a good boat. Well, she doesn’t think so, and that makes your boat a bad one.’
A hue and cry erupted on barge number one. The lines were drawn between them and me, and I stood there, half muddleheaded and half alert. I felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the girl, since, sofa or not, she seemed to be the only person in the world who actually liked the people who lived on number seven — the only one. Noting my hesitation, the others began whispering among themselves, trying to figure out what to do.
Sun’s wife decided to up the ante. ‘If you won’t draw a second lot, then go ahead, take her with you. You’ll be responsible for bringing her up — food, clothing, hygiene, everything. We’ll see how you and your father handle that.’
‘Dongliang,’ Desheng said, ‘this is a time for cool heads. You know how to play chess, don’t you? Well, once you move a piece you can’t take it back, and if you lose a game you have only yourself to blame.’
As for sly old Six-Fingers Wang, he gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder and said something that was totally out of place: ‘I don’t know what you have in mind, but it is too soon to take the girl over to your boat. Wait another ten years or so, and we’ll happily give our approval.’
People laughed. I pushed Six-Fingers’s hand away and waved my slip in the air. ‘I drew it, it’s mine. Who cares if you approve or not? I’m going to take her with me.’ I reached for Huixian’s hand and said — commanded, actually — ‘Come on, we’re going to our boat.’
Huixian, who was by then standing in front of me, put both hands behind her back, but there was a smile on her face, and I knew she was egging me on. It wasn’t an overt look of encouragement, but it betrayed a sense of reservation and caution. Then her foot moved towards me, and that told me what was in her heart. She wanted me to take her to number seven.
‘Let’s go, off to number seven, to the sofa!’ I said. It was another command, and this time she obeyed me. She scooted over to the deck and the women knew she’d made up her mind; there was nothing they could do about it now. I watched as she flew across the gangplank like a bird freed from a cage, while the people behind us could only gape at our perfect harmony. Some of them snapped out of it and ran up in surprise. ‘Don’t go, Huixian! You mustn’t go to number seven!’
I turned and shouted, ‘Why not? What’s wrong with number seven, tell me that!’
By now they’d lined up behind me, tall and short, edgy and fearful. My shout had hit them like a blast of cold air, rendering them speechless. Why not? They didn’t have an answer. Desheng was more familiar with our boat than the others were, and for that reason he was relatively calm. ‘Don’t go after them,’ he said. ‘Dongliang’s just a boy, it’s not his boat. It’s Secretary Ku’s. You can believe me or not, but hear me out. Old Ku is not about to take this girl aboard his boat.’