I looked to where he was pointing. ‘Do you mean that old fashioned building over there?’ I asked.
‘She has spent the last few nights drinking with a chain-smoker. When tobacco smoke and alcohol fumes mix together, it smells like old mutton.’
At night the town looks cold and desolate. The survivor discovered that when people are lying down in the dark, they become more active than they are when the lights are on. The noises of copulation and the sour smells of body fluids often made his stomach turn.
‘I can’t bear it when there’s no breeze at night,’ he said.
‘Men could never agree to relinquishing the joys of marriage.’
‘All you want to do is eat, have sex and go shopping. These activities all require the participation of others — not just one person, but a crowd of them. You need to huddle in towns and cities to escape the emptiness in your hearts.’
‘I work myself to the bone for you, to care for all your needs.’
‘All you do is bring me a little water every morning. And you always end up drinking some of it yourself.’
‘Think how many times I’ve had to clear up your messes! When you pissed in the doorway last week, you plonked my wash bowl over the puddle to try and hide it from me, but I still cleaned it up for you.’
‘You smashed my chamber pot that day — I had no choice but to piss on the ground.’
‘Sweep those scraps of bones back onto your plate, will you,’ I grunted.
‘Can you pass me my bowl of water, please?’
He put his mouth to the bowl and took a large gulp. Then he looked up and said, ‘It’s hot today. If only you knew how uncomfortable I get in this thick coat of fur.’
‘There’s a fan in my office. It makes a nice breeze.’
‘I’d love a chance to sit in front of it.’ When he drifted into his fantasies, his tail would start wagging of its own accord.
‘You know I could never let you leave this terrace.’
He licked the water from his lips, then edged forward and started licking my feet.
‘It wouldn’t be safe to take you down,’ I said, pulling my foot away from him. ‘The streets are full of policemen, even at night.’
He cocked his head flirtatiously and whined, ‘Go and find me a little companion then.’
I roared with laughter. ‘You want a bitch, don’t you? You rascal!’
Hearing this, he pounced up excitedly onto my lap, almost knocking me to the ground.
(‘Unfortunately, I never managed to satisfy this desire of his,’ the painter admitted to the writer. ‘In his entire life, he never so much as talked with a member of his own species, let alone did anything else with them.’ The writer looked up at him and said, ‘You must miss him very much.’)
When I think back to the days we spent together, my mood lifts a little. Last Saturday I attended the weekly political meeting at work, and as usual I spent the time having conversations with the dog in my mind. The chairman was using a brand-new microphone, but his speech was as monotonous as ever.
‘ … Our Party has a glorious future. Yes. Comrade Deng Xiaoping’s latest report stressed this unequivocally. Our Party is undergoing change, enormous change. The Party centre has stated that the three sectors of society hold equal importance, and this is the view both of the wider Party, and of the people. Yes. Our determination must not falter. Five years may seem long, but I can assure you, they will pass very quickly. The war against Japan lasted only eight years …’ Half the audience in the hall was staring at the chairman standing on the podium, the other half had closed their eyes and escaped into their own thoughts. Three women at the back had got their knitting out and were having a quiet chat. ‘Our nation at present is united. Comrades, we must endeavour to — ’ The microphone suddenly let out a deafening squeak. The chairman was so startled he dropped his tea cup on the floor and it shattered into pieces. All the eyes in the hall focused on the broken fragments. There was still an hour and a half to go. ‘Time is short, comrades, so I’ll press on and skip to the fifth point. Our Party overcame many difficulties during the three years of economic slowdown. This proves that there is no crisis our Party cannot surmount. Think about it comrades — were it not for the leadership of the Party, our nation would be moving backwards, yes, backwards. Our Party is the best party in the world. It’s deeply embedded in the hearts and minds of the people …’
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t concentrate on his words. I’m afraid that my political resolve has been weakening. In the past, I used to pore over each document my leaders sent down to me. I complied with every decision they made concerning my personal relationships and political studies. I was one of the lucky ones. Because my parents joined the Party before Liberation, and had lived in a Soviet controlled area, I was absolved from attending the re-education camps that my classmates were sent to. At school, I was as skinny as a dried pickle and the shortest boy in the year, but because of my family background I was appointed chairman of the student union in the first week of term. I took the position very seriously, and participated in every school activity. In the morning, I ran two circuits of the playing field to give my complexion a healthy glow, and at night I practised my political speeches. After I left school, I became even more conscientious. When Premier Zhou Enlai announced that smoking was patriotic, I smoked ten cigarettes in one day, although in the afternoon I felt so ill I had to be carried to the sickbay. That show of patriotism was almost sufficient to secure my Party membership. But unfortunately, I never succeeded in acquiring an addiction to tobacco.
After the rape incident, the dog often asked me when the pedestrian flyover would be officially opened. Sometimes I would read out articles for him from the local paper. One night, as the traffic wardens’ voices were booming above the roar of the streets below, I read out an article entitled ‘Good Prospects for the Flyover’. It said: ‘Having received 170 complaints from the public concerning the construction of the flyover, the provincial authorities sent a team to the site yesterday to investigate the problem. The thirteen members of the team promised to assess the situation objectively and reject any bribes or special treatment. They were true to their word. After they arrived at the train station, they declined the use of the limousines sent by the municipal Party committee and chose instead to travel to the site by public bus. The crowds they met along the way approved of their frugal and upright attitude. When they reached the site, the team enquired about the number of traffic incidents that have occurred under the flyover this month. They visited the newly established rescue centre and arranged for a doctor who neglected to deal with the dislocated shoulder of a crash victim to be sent away for interrogation. In their final report, the team pointed out that the political study meetings held in the rescue centre on Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons create severe disruptions to medical care, and they suggested that this matter should be looked into …’
‘It seems that the investigation team has solved many problems,’ I said, looking up from the page.
‘If they hadn’t built that flyover in the first place, there would never have been so many accidents,’ the dog complained.
‘At least the municipal authorities are working hard to put matters right.’
‘Surely they realise that the only way to solve this problem now is to hurry up and open the flyover to the public.’
Did he really imagine that the municipal Party committee had the power to decide when the flyover was to be opened? He was so naive. Only the Central Committee can make such decisions. And they’re responsible for running the entire country — they have far more pressing issues to think about than solving our pedestrian flyover problem.