Su Tong - The Boat to Redemption

‘What I don’t understand,’ Sun said, ‘is how much trouble it can be to go ashore and talk to someone. You’ve got arms, Old Ku, and you’ve got legs, so what’s to keep you from going ashore?’ Sun’s anxiety showed in his eyes. His gaze darted downward until he was looking at Father’s crotch. The thought of his truncated penis reminded him of Father’s ugly nickname. ‘Tell me, Secretary Ku, what’s the real reason you won’t go ashore? Are you afraid of what people will say when they see you? Who cares about a bunch of smart-arse kids, especially a man like you? Come with us, and if I hear an unkind word from anyone, he’ll pay with his prick — the whole thing.’

Father’s face darkened. ‘Old Sun,’ he said unappreciatively, ‘I don’t like to hear that kind of gutter talk from you. You can’t have a very high opinion of me if you think I’m worried about a bunch of kids. I’ve said before that I vowed to the ghost of the martyr Deng Shaoxiang that I’ll not step foot on land again until my case has been resolved and the verdict on me overturned.’

With an embarrassed look, Sun Ximing grumbled, ‘It’s not like you to sulk, Old Ku. You have to tough it out. Even a fish winds up on land when the water rises. Don’t tell me you plan to spend the rest of your life on the water.’

‘I’m not sulking,’ Father said. ‘You don’t understand me, Old Sun. This isn’t sulking, it’s dignity.’

Sun blinked as he considered what Father meant by the word dignity. A sneer of disdain accompanied a couple of pats on his leg. ‘Dignity, you say? Don’t you mean face? Old Ku, if you don’t go ashore, it’s because you’re ashamed to show your face.’

But Father shook his head insistently. ‘You’re wrong, Old Sun. You really don’t understand. Face is face, and dignity is dignity. I’ve walked a bumpy road in my days and tasted everything life has to offer — sweet, sour, bitter and hot. Face means nothing to me any more, but I’ve got my dignity, and I’ll hold on to it, no matter what it costs. I’m not going ashore until my case is resolved!’

Seeing my father’s eyes grow moist, Sun Ximing knew there was nothing more to be said. He was smart enough to leave it at that, so he turned to the next best thing to Father — me. ‘Then let Dongliang go in your place. He may not be the best talker, but he’s been to school. The authorities will want someone who can write, so he could prove to be of some use.’

With a quick glance at me, Father said, ‘What good could he do? He can’t make things right, but he’s sure to mess them up. If you want to put your trust in him, I can’t be responsible. Ask him if he’s willing to go.’

Seeing the hopeful look in Sun Ximing’s eyes, I quickly looked away and said, ‘I don’t care.’

‘What do you mean, you don’t care?’ Sun said doubtfully. ‘Do you want to go or not?’

‘“I don’t care” means he wants to go,’ Father said. ‘This boy doesn’t know how to give a straight answer to anything.’ He reached down, took off one of his sandals and smacked me with it. ‘Won’t you ever change?’ he complained. ‘I try to bring you up right, but you refuse to do what you’re supposed to. Can’t you give a straight answer?’

Truth is, Father didn’t understand me. All he cared about was his own dignity, not mine. The reason I was being so difficult was because I had mixed feelings. I knew that taking Huixian ashore was the right thing for the boat people to do, but I hated the idea. Winds often blew clothes that were drying on the shore into the water, where the boat people fought to scoop them out, dry them and wear them as their own. And waves often picked up logs from the lumber yard and sent them downriver, where they were pulled up out of the water and hidden in cabins. The boat people would take anything out of the water, it didn’t matter what. Now that a lovable little girl had come to them, why wouldn’t they keep her? I was angry at Sun and the others, but there was no way I could tell them.

So I stuck a pen into one of my pockets and followed the boat people ashore to give up the girl. She rode on Desheng’s shoulders, her face covered in rouge put on by the women, in high spirits as she sucked on a sweet. I knew why she was so happy — they’d told her they were taking her ashore to find her mama.

Now that the floods had passed, much of Milltown was in ruins, with mud everywhere. Amid the dirt and filth, red flags and throngs of people lent the construction project a more exalted air than ever. The land around the piers had been opened up, rice-paddy style, although close-up it looked more like the trenches you see in war movies. There were people down in the trenches and above ground nearby. With shock-troop banners on poles dotting the ground, our delegation had trouble finding its way. One of the banners read ‘Sunflower Shock Troop’, which reminded me of my mother. Would she be a member of that troop? I climbed up a nearby hill to get a better look into the trenches, but didn’t see her down there. A woman was reading a commendation letter over the PA system, extolling the virtues of a labourer who had passed out on his work site. Time after time, he’d lost consciousness, then got up to continue digging, only to pass out again. I listened, not to what the voice was saying, but to how it sounded. Could that be my mother? No, it was the voice of a younger woman, crisp, but lacking the emotion I’d always heard in Mother’s voice. No, the PA voice belonged to someone else. A river flows thirty years to the east, then thirty years to the west. Mother’s revolutionary voice had been replaced by that of an unknown younger woman.

The security group appeared out of nowhere and rushed towards our delegation, shouting, ‘Stop where you are! Stop, I said! You can’t come ashore!’

Xiaogai and the others blocked our way next to a stack of drain-pipes. They’d been joined by a woman they called Wintersweet. She carried a truncheon like the others, but stood behind the men. She added her voice to theirs: ‘Go on back, you can’t come ashore.’

The confused boat people, who had been backed up against the small mountain of drainpipes, darted glances all around. ‘This construction may be your business,’ Sun said, ‘but, as they say, well water doesn’t stop the flow of river water. Why can’t we come ashore?’

‘What’s all this well-water and river-water business?’ Scabby Five said as he grabbed Sun’s sleeve. ‘Sooner or later well water flows into the river. Didn’t you see the signs? We’re in the middle of a mass campaign, and the piers are a construction site, off limits to idlers.’

‘After all we’ve contributed to the project, how dare you call us idlers?’ Sun complained, knocking Scabby’s hand away. ‘We’re on our way to see the authorities. How do you expect us to get there — sprout wings and fly?’

‘You’re nothing but a raucous crowd,’ Xiaogai said. ‘Why choose this time to go looking for the authorities? And what do you want to see them for?’

Before Sun had a chance to answer, Desheng said, ‘To report on a new trend in class struggle. And if you won’t let us come ashore, we’ll see that you’re made responsible for what happens.’

Xiaogai glared at Desheng, then spun around to see if there was any reaction from Sun Ximing. Sun wore an enigmatic smile that indicated he liked what he heard. Xiaogai didn’t know whether to believe Desheng or not. ‘What trend in class struggle could you boat people have? Have you scooped a Taiwanese secret agent’s parachute out of the river or something?’ His tone of voice had changed from firm to cautious. Special circumstances called for special handling. ‘Come ashore if you have to, but you need to be registered. I’ll want names, time of coming ashore, and time of return to your barges.’