Ma Jian - The Dark Road

‘Don’t worry — we’ll go home as soon as martial law is lifted,’ Kongzi says, trying to sound confident.

‘The baby is due in three months, but this town is a demolition site — it doesn’t even have a hospital. I think I’m developing a fever. You must buy me some Yellow Ox pills tomorrow to bring it down.’ Meili feels stifled by the darkness surrounding her, and wishes something stimulating could break the atmosphere. She looks over to the boat near the wharf which has been converted into a video parlour. Three coloured light bulbs are flashing above its entrance. It screens martial arts films during the day and porn movies at night. Kongzi sneaked off to watch one a few nights ago without telling her. When he returned to the cabin afterwards he made love to her like an animal.

‘I’ll find a hospital for you when the time comes, I promise,’ he says to her. ‘I earn ten times more as a demolition worker than I did as a teacher. Once I’ve saved enough money, we’ll buy ourselves a boat. Many local fishermen are planning to leave town before the valley is flooded. I met one who’s moving to Guangzhou. He owns a fishing boat that’s worth ten thousand yuan, but he said he’ll sell it to me for just three thousand. Once we have a boat of our own, we’ll be free. We won’t need residence permits. If the police try to arrest us, we’ll start the engine and escape. And if we don’t manage to find a hospital in time, you can have the baby on our boat.’

‘Yes, at least a boat would give us somewhere to hide. How much money have we got now? Last night I dreamed that little Happiness left my belly and flew into the sky. It was terrifying.’

As night falls, the infant spirit can see Mother and Father sitting at the cardboard box eating dinner. Nannan has come out from the meeting room. She’s walking along the deck, or skipping — it’s hard to tell.

‘You keep talking about the fetus having a spirit,’ Father says. ‘That’s why you had the dream. We have one thousand yuan now. In two more months, we’ll have enough to buy the boat.’

‘I know you don’t believe in ghosts, Kongzi, but I’m convinced the fetus has a spirit. I saw it the moment I became pregnant. It often speaks to me. Why do you think babies cry when they’re born? It’s because the infant spirits that have been assigned to their bodies don’t want to go through another incarnation. They want to break free and fly away.’

Nannan grips Mother’s hand. ‘I want nice food, Mum.’

‘What kind of food?’ says Mother, her belly jutting out as she sits up straight.

‘That!’ says Nannan, pointing to the deep-fried fish being eaten by the four bare-chested workers who, in the soft light cast from the lamp behind them, resemble four smooth eggs. At the bow, a few men are leaning against the railing having a smoke. Other figures are sitting or lying down in clusters on the still-warm metal deck.

‘Try this meatball,’ Mother says to Nannan. ‘I sprinkled some magic powder on it just for you. And here’s a tomato. You like tomatoes.’

‘Me want fish,’ says Nannan, stamping her feet. ‘Me want that fish!’

‘Don’t be so rude!’ Mother whispers, slapping her bottom. ‘It’s their fish, not yours.’

Nannan frowns and tries to hold back her sobs. ‘You bad mummy,’ she splutters. ‘You no wear glasses, so you bad mummy.’

‘Come and sit down here by the mosquito coil,’ Mother says, pulling Nannan close to her. ‘Remember what I told you? If anyone asks you how old you are, you must say you’re five years old. Don’t tell them you’re only two and a half. Do you hear? If you do, I’ll have to spank you again.’ She watches Nannan crawl onto Father’s lap. ‘You’re too soft on her, Kongzi,’ Mother says. ‘If she blabs out our secrets, the authorities will arrest me, and our family will be finished.’

‘Stop worrying,’ says Father, lighting a cigarette. ‘Nannan’s a good girl. She won’t blab.’

‘Oh, what are we going to do? This baby will never get a residence permit. It will be one of those “Black Children” who are born without permission and banned from getting free schooling and medical treatment. When it grows up, it won’t even be able to marry, and it’ll curse us for condemning it to a life as an outcast.’

‘Me not black children!’ says Nannan, punching Mother’s thigh. ‘You bad mummy.’ She kicks a leg in the air, sending her flip-flop flying across the deck.

‘I’m sure that in a couple of years Nuwa County will have calmed down,’ says Father, lifting a meatball with his chopsticks. ‘Then we can go home and do our best to get little Happiness registered.’

‘Stop kicking my bladder, little one!’ Mother says, glancing down at her belly. ‘I’m sick of having to go to the toilet every five minutes.’

‘Do me kick you when me inside you, Mum?’ asks Nannan, wiping a scrap of meatball from her hot face.

‘No, you didn’t have as much strength as this one,’ Mother says, then mutters to Father: ‘Nannan’s getting so naughty. She threw your lighter into the river this morning.’ A speedboat passes, churning up waves that tip the barge to the side. Mother puts her hands over the bowls on the cardboard box to stop them falling off.

‘Me no throw lighter away!’ Nannan protests, wrinkling her nose. ‘Baby Crab wanted lighter, so I borrowed it him.’

‘Look — see how she thinks she can get away with everything!’ Mother says, wiping the sweat from her face with the corner of her shirt. A damp breeze lifts her skirt and Father’s cigarette smoke into the air. Flies encrusting the remains of the food flutter up briefly then settle back down again. The long dank barge, crammed with male guests, floats beside the bank like the corpse of an old woman, its lower half soaking in cool water, its upper half still swollen from the intense heat of the day. As the night air cools, the metal decks and wood-panelled cabins contract, letting out creaks and groans.

‘Stop kicking, will you, and allow me to finish my dinner in peace!’ Mother says, rubbing her belly and expelling a loud fart.

KEYWORDS: bamboo bird cage, the wise in water, housewife, safe refuge, wild duck, floating happiness.

IT’S AN OLD fishing boat, about five metres long, with a bow and stern wide enough for two people to sit side by side. The cabin at the centre has a bitumen-coated canopy attached to a bamboo and metal frame. Although you have to crouch down to enter it, once you’re inside it feels like a proper room, almost the size of a double bed. Plastic sheets can be lowered over the front and back openings to block out the wind and rain. Meili has become fond of this new home. She likes the washing lines strung between the canopy and the bow, and the bamboo birdcage attached to the side of the boat. The only problem is her constant fear that Nannan might fall overboard. When Meili stepped onto the boat for the first time, she immediately tripped and fell, landing hard on her swollen belly. The thought of Nannan falling into the river makes her twitch with alarm.

‘Slow down, Kongzi!’ Meili calls out. ‘We’ve gone far enough. Let’s turn round and go back to our mooring.’ She’s sitting in the cabin with her arms around Nannan. This is the first trip they’ve made on their new boat. Meili can’t swim, so as soon as Kongzi accelerates, her body becomes rigid with fear.

A giant, shark-like fish swims past, its long snout and crenulated spine rising above the water.

‘What’s that strange creature?’ asks Meili.

‘A Chinese sturgeon,’ Kongzi replies. ‘It’s the oldest vertebrate in the world. The government has granted it Class One Protection. They hatch in the upper reaches of the Yangtze then swim down to the sea. Ten years later, they swim back against the river’s flow to spawn in their place of origin.’