Wu Ming-Yi - The Man with the Compound Eyes

Right then the television in the little noodle shop was broadcasting one of those tireless talk shows. The topic this evening was castaways in the Bermuda Triangle. At one point they were talking about the Gulf of Mexico, where about twenty years before the fishery had collapsed because of an oil spill and where six months ago a squid boat that hadn’t been able to catch a thing had rescued a dark-skinned girl with charred red hair. The girl was thought to have been drifting for at least a month. She was very weak, and only managed to regain consciousness for a few minutes upon receiving medical assistance, during which time she kept muttering, “Atile’i! Atile’i!” Language experts believed this was very likely a word of supplication in her language. The girl was put on life support. She slipped back into a coma, but her brain activity only ceased when doctors performed a Caesarean and removed the fetus she was carrying from her abdomen.

“It’s a miracle.” Hafay and Dahu both realized that the leggy anchorwoman with the heavy makeup was actually Lily, the lady from the day the Trash Vortex hit. The ex-anchorwoman on this channel got sacked after the tsunami incident; who knows how Lily had gotten promoted to the post? The infant was vigorous, the report continued, despite an unfortunate congenital defect: its legs were joined together, like a cetacean tail fin.

Sara had Dahu translate the news for her. Nobody knew whether to be sad or happy for the child. Umav said, “Sweet! Fused legs will make it easier to swim.”

They could be sure there would be no good news in the weather forecast, because the earliest typhoon of the year was in the offing, and at the beginning of March already. It would very likely advance toward the east coast. Experts predicted that the storm would break up the Trash Vortex and cause it to surround the whole island. Moreover, the typhoon had a well-developed cloud structure and would bring a considerable amount of rain.

By the wee hours of the morning, Dahu and the other travelers were on the road again. In the darkness, the two cars were flooded with a multilingual torrent. But soon Dahu had to slow down and stop because of reduced visibility up ahead.

“I can’t see the road,” Dahu said.

The road had disappeared.

Because of the haze, they could not see the shape of the sun when it appeared on the horizon. Initially all they could see was the space immediately in front of the headlights. Gradually it got light enough for them to see where the road should have been: the road had been engulfed by the rising sea. Maybe it was too remote for there to be any reports on it, or maybe they had not been paying attention to the news. In any case, this unnecessary road, rarely traveled except for transporting nuclear waste, had now sunk beneath the waves, just like that.

As if the ocean is where they’d taken the road to get to, the band of travelers stood and gazed out across the vast Pacific at a listless sunrise, at the end of the road.

Dahu, Hafay, Umav, Anu, Detlef and Sara all got out of the cars and stood at the edge of the road that led into the sea, speechless. And the resolute Pacific kept delivering wave after distant wave.

Having set out a bit earlier than Dahu and Anu and the others, Alice was now helping Atile’i slowly push his boat into the sea. Alice cocked her head and looked at Atile’i, wondering whether all of this had really happened or if it had been a figment of her imagination. Had she really spent the past while living with a youth who had come here across the Pacific on a floating island of garbage?

The sea was indistinct in the darkness, like a grainy old photograph. It was as if there was finally something to grasp hold of out there in the void. Alice sat in Atile’i’s boat. Staring out into the distance, they were both preoccupied. Time passed slowly, and Atile’i didn’t show any sign of rowing. It wasn’t until a flock of gulls flew past that Atile’i finally spoke. “Alice, can you pray for me?”

“Sure. But to whom should I pray?”

“Anyone. Kabang, or your god, or to the ocean.”

“Will my prayer make any difference?”

“Maybe not. The Sea Sage … my father says that you never know what will happen in the face of the sea, for the sea taketh away and the sea suddenly giveth another day. This is why we must pray.” Atile’i slipped into Wayo Wayoan halfway through, leaving Alice a bit in the dark as to what he was on about.

Dahu and the others sat down like there was a beach at the end of the road. They did not want to leave too soon, even though they were certain there was no going on to the old trail. Dahu was rambling on about the time he’d hiked it many years before. He talked and talked, his voice trailing off until not even he could hear it anymore. Umav kicked at the waves. Sara took samples of seawater. Detlef was recording the scene with his video camera. Anu just took off his clothes and jumped in for a swim.

Dahu noticed Hafay was wearing sandals today instead of boots, exposing her extra toes. He felt that each extra toe was like an adorable millet sprout.

Hafay started to sing. They all stopped what they were doing the moment they heard her voice. Even the sea seemed to cease slapping at the shore. All that remained in the world was her song.

First she sang a Pangcah ballad, then an air she’d composed herself, then an English folk anthem from many years before. This was a song she had learned from a CD that man had given her. She had memorized every verse of every song on those CDs, even though she had no idea what the lyrics meant.

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?

I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains ,

I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways ,

I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests ,

I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans ,

I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard ,

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard ,

And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall .

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?

I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it ,

I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it ,

I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’ ,

I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’ ,

I saw a white ladder all covered with water ,

I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken ,

I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children ,

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard ,

And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall .

This was a song from such a long time ago. But even Dahu, who had heard Hafay sing a lot of songs before, felt like Hafay’s voice replenished something inside his empty soul. Even Anu, who did not understand a word, felt like he was responsible for the sorrow in the song. Even Detlef, who had really been to the heart of a mountain, felt like something had been hollowed out and a cavern had appeared, a cavern so deep and vast it could never be reinforced. And even Umav, who was just a girl who did not yet know the ways of the world, felt that a hard rain was really going to fall.

Her red hair flying like a flag, Sara was stunned by Hafay’s voice. The raindrops in Hafay’s song seemed to shatter in the gale, making the rain seem much heavier than it actually was. Sara and Hafay exchanged a glance, and then Sara took over the lead, with Hafay singing harmony: