A number of oil transports were parked by the side of the road, one of which had just started up. The driver, assuming I was looking for a ride, waved at me from the cab. ‘Where you headed? Hurry up, jump in.’ I ran over and jumped on to the running board. ‘I’m going to Xingfu,’ the driver said. ‘I can drop you off on the way if that’s where you’re headed. It’ll cost you fifty cents.’
I didn’t know exactly where Xingfu was, whether it was a rural village or a market town. But so what! Xingfu — Happiness — a nice name. ‘Xingfu it is. Let’s go.’
The driver opened the passenger door and stretched out his hand. ‘Fifty cents, up front.’
I was digging in my pocket for the money when a strange voice whistled past my ear. There was a commotion at the intersection, with several people calling my name. ‘Stay there, Ku Dongliang! Don’t leave, don’t go anywhere!’ Some kids who’d come running over from the Sunnyside Fleet were calling my name, and they surrounded me like a swarm of hornets. One of them wrapped his arms around my legs, another grabbed my bag. Xiaofu stamped his foot and yelled at me, ‘Ku Dongliang, while you’ve been having a carefree time out here, your dad swallowed some pesticide. They’ve taken him to hospital.’
I had a dim image of Baldy Chen and his rifle, a delayed bullet emerging from the barrel and hitting me in the chest, the bad news arriving mercilessly. I shuddered, jumped down off the running board and ran as fast as I could towards the hospital, arms flailing. I thought I was flying down the road, but then my hip started aching, my legs felt rubbery and I started gasping for breath. I slowed down in spite of myself.
Xiaofu, who was off to my left, yelled, ‘Come on, run! Your dad’s in hospital fighting for his life, and you’re moving like a fat old pig.’
Chungeng, to my right, joined in. ‘It’s all your fault. A real man has the guts to take the heat for what he’s done. What kind of man are you? Are you scared now? You drove your own dad to suicide, but you’re like a turtle that pulls in its head. A turtle runs faster than you!’
Six-Fingers Wang’s youngest daughter, Little Four, was urging me on from behind by smacking my rear end with a switch, as if she was whipping a horse. ‘Get moving!’ she said. ‘You have to do something to atone for your crimes.’ She was panting and cursing at the same time. ‘Ku Dongliang, no matter what you think of him, he’s still your dad. People only have one father and one mother, and when they’re gone, they’re gone. But you abandoned your dad and ran off! If my mother hadn’t swallowed pesticide once and my father didn’t have such a good nose, your dad would have died in his cabin without anybody knowing anything about it.’
Her words hit me hard. I was crying like a baby as I ran. Those kids had never seen me cry, and it stopped them in their tracks. I covered my face with my hands so they wouldn’t see my tears. They thought it was their scolding and pressure that had brought on the tears, so they stopped. ‘Don’t cry,’ Little Four said, ‘we won’t say any more. So you were wrong this time. Next time you’ll do better.’
With a frown, Chungeng said, ‘What good does it do to cry? The harder you cry, the slower you run.’
People out on the street gaped curiously at this contingent on the run. ‘Hey!’ they said. ‘What’s the hurry? Has someone in the fleet died?’
‘People are dying in town all the time,’ Little Four shrieked, ‘but not in the fleet.’
Xiaofu shoved the busybodies out of the way as he pushed me along. ‘What business is it of yours if we run? Go ahead, get an eyeful, we’re training for a long-distance race. Haven’t you ever seen one of those?’
Desheng and Sun Ximing’s wives were waiting for me at the hospital entrance. They exchanged relieved looks. ‘Dongliang, you didn’t leave after all, that’s good,’ one of them said.
‘My Xiaofu knows how to get things done,’ said the other. ‘He managed to bring Dongliang here.’
I was on the verge of collapse. ‘My dad, is he OK?’ I managed to shout before falling at their feet. I couldn’t stand up; I felt the women try to pull me to my feet by my arms. I didn’t resist, but my body and my soul lay fearfully on the ground, refusing to get up. I was shaking uncontrollably.
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of,’ Desheng’s wife said. ‘Your dad’s going to be OK. He’s got us to take care of him. Now stand up, come on, stand up.’
But Sun Ximing’s wife kept pointing to my head and giving me a good scolding. ‘Now you know what it means to be afraid. Why didn’t you listen to us earlier? It’s OK not to trust the people on the shore, but have you stopped trusting us too? You call yourself a rebel. Well, you nearly rebelled your father to death!’
They walked me into the hospital’s intensive-care unit. I have no recollection of the hospital’s layout or facilities, but I’ll never forget the smell of the room he was in. It stank of dirty feet and blood, along with the acrid smell of iodine and the aroma of food. Father had forced me into a relationship with that place: the first time as a result of his severed penis, and this time in an effort to save his life. I couldn’t escape a measure of responsibility for either. Standing in the doorway, I suddenly felt as if my stomach was about to betray me. Afraid that I was going to throw up, I crouched down in front of a spittoon.
‘What’s wrong with you, Dongliang?’ Sun’s wife said. ‘Your father’s lying there in the corner, what are you doing down there?’
I rubbed my belly. ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘wait a minute.’
When she saw my ashen face, Desheng’s wife said, ‘Yes, let’s wait a minute. He looks as if he’s going to throw up, probably from hunger, or fright.’
I strained to raise my head from the spittoon to search for Father. Most of the beds in Intensive Care were occupied. He was lying on a bench in the corner, surrounded by oxygen tanks, IV racks and lots of people. It was obvious that his condition was critical from the way two nurses were bouncing around beside him and the doctor was pumping his stomach. It looked like a slaughterhouse or meat-processing plant. Father was a feeble but stubborn old ox that refused to be led to the slaughter, and was upsetting the nurses.
Since they didn’t dare vent their frustrations on him, they took them out on the people standing nearby. ‘How can you be so inept? You men, with all that strength, and you can’t even hold an old man down. Look how he’s thrown up all over me!’
The boat people shuttled back and forth beside the bench until they finally settled into place. Six-Fingers Wang pressed down on Father’s body, with Sun Ximing and Desheng in position on either side of the bench, one holding a spittoon, the other holding up an IV bottle. That was when Sun Ximing saw me. He glowered. ‘What are you standing around for? Get over here and help Six-Fingers hold him down. Your stubborn dad refuses to let them pump his stomach.’
So I rushed across and pushed down on my father’s midsection. He looked up at me and tried to say something, but the tube in his mouth made that impossible. Next best was to push me away, but Six-Fingers was holding his arms down at his sides. Obviously he wanted me out of there, and that was probably a good idea, since my stomach was churning and I felt like throwing up. But I had to force it down. He was the one who needed to throw up. I pushed down hard. ‘Throw up, Dad, get rid of it.’ But he was determined not to. He was breathing as hard as he could, trying to expel the tube from his throat. ‘Empty your stomach, Dad, forget about the tube. Get rid of the pesticide and you’ll be fine.’
I looked into his eyes and saw that the anger had given way to torment, just before a geyser of foul liquid burst from his mouth and hit me full in the face. I didn’t even try to get out of the way, strangely enough. I just emptied the contents of my stomach right after he did.