Ma Jian - The Dark Road

ON A SWELTERING day, while Kongzi is having a lunchtime nap in the cabin, Meili sees a man on the bank waving his bag and shouting out to them. ‘Wake up, Kongzi!’ she says. ‘I think someone wants to hire our boat.’ In the last month, she’s sold thirty ducks for two hundred yuan, and Kongzi has made three hundred yuan delivering cargos of watermelons injected with growth chemicals, and batches of last year’s mouldy rice which unscrupulous traders milled and waxed so that it could be sold as new.

Meili steers towards the bank. Kongzi’s gold-rimmed spectacles fell into the river last week, so she’s been driving the boat since then. The man jumps aboard and says, ‘I need a ride to Yinluo.’ He is tall, with unkempt greying hair, a goatee and tortoiseshell glasses. His white shirt clings to his sweaty back.

‘What, there and back in one day?’ Meili asks.

‘I don’t know yet,’ the man says, wiping his wet forehead.

‘What cargo are you picking up?’ Kongzi asks sleepily, drawing back the door curtain. He’s crouching down, unaware that his penis is hanging out from the open zip of his shorts.

‘I’m not picking up any cargo. I’m looking for my mother. She drowned herself in the river last week. I want to find her body and give her a proper burial.’

‘You want us to transport a corpse?’ Kongzi says, stepping out onto the deck. ‘Never! I’ll transport fake goods or contraband goods, but not dead bodies.’

‘I know it’s an unusual proposition, so I’m prepared to pay you eighty yuan for the day.’

‘It’s not a question of money,’ Kongzi says, softening his tone a little. ‘Don’t you know it’s bad luck to bring a corpse aboard a boat?’

‘Yes, yes, I understand,’ the man says. ‘Let’s say ninety yuan, then. All right?’ He’s now so drenched in sweat, he looks as though he’s just emerged from the river.

Kongzi thinks it over for a moment, and says, ‘I’d want one hundred yuan. No less. And I’ll need to pay the twenty-yuan administrative fee at the inspection post, and the mooring fee at the Yinluo pier.’ The truth is, Kongzi never moors at the pier, he always anchors along the banks further down.

‘Please, brother, do it for ninety. I’m just a humble schoolteacher. I don’t have much money.’

‘Let’s take him,’ Meili says, squatting behind the engine, her bare feet forming sweaty footprints on the deck.

Hearing that the man is a teacher, Kongzi feels unable to refuse. ‘All right, ninety it is,’ he says. ‘Meili, you and Nannan stay on the island and look after the ducks.’

‘No, it wouldn’t be safe for you to drive the boat without your glasses,’ she says. ‘Xixi can take care of Nannan and the ducks. Her baby’s four months old. She can strap him onto her back now and walk around.’

They sail to the island, leave Nannan and the ducks in Xixi’s care, then set off for Yinluo. ‘I’m a teacher as well, as it happens,’ Kongzi says, crouching down next to the man.

As the boat moves downstream, a cool breeze blows through the hot air and rustles the tarpaulin canopy. Meili stands at the stern, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding down the back of her cotton dress so that it doesn’t fly up in the wind. She wonders why the man’s mother chose to drown herself. Back in Nuwa Village, a few women killed themselves by jumping into a well and one or two hanged themselves from trees, but most women committed suicide by drinking pesticides.

‘… I’ve been searching the Xi River for ten days, but haven’t seen any sign of her,’ the man says. ‘I was told that near Yinluo there’s a stagnant backwater where bodies often wash up.’ Meili glances at the man through the corner of her eye. Although his face is grimy and his hair dusty and unkempt, he has a distinguished air about him. He pulls off his round tortoiseshell glasses and mops the sweat from his brow.

‘Yinluo’s not too far,’ Kongzi says, taking the cigarette the man offers him. ‘We should get there in two hours.’

The man has relaxed a little. He looks no older than forty. He’s wearing sports sandals that have labels printed with foreign letters. His grey shorts are mud-splattered and his white shirt has a frayed collar and ink stains, but together they still look quite stylish.

‘Why did your mother drown herself?’ Kongzi asks bluntly.

‘She was diagnosed with breast cancer. The hospital treatment was going to cost a thousand yuan a day. She knew that we’re struggling to find the money for my son’s university fees, and she didn’t want to drain our resources.’

Kongzi’s eyes widen. ‘So your son has got into university?’

‘Yes, we slaved for two years helping him prepare for the exams. He’s the only student in our county who’s been offered a place. Such glory he’s brought to our ancestors! But the fees have risen to eighteen thousand yuan this year, and my salary is just five thousand. Still, I’m determined to raise the cash. I’m planning to give up teaching and look for a factory job in Shenzhen. When the acceptance letter arrived, I showed it to my mother, and she drowned herself that very afternoon.’

‘Did anyone see her jump? Perhaps she’s just gone travelling.’

‘She left a will and a letter instructing me not to search for her body. She said if we found it we’d have to pay for a cremation, and she’d rather we put all our money towards my son’s fees. She left her keys on the kitchen table.’

Upset by the man’s story, Meili pushes down the throttle handle to accelerate.

‘So she chose to drown herself, rather than hang or gas herself, just to save you the thousand-yuan cremation fee!’ Kongzi exclaims. ‘The government is shameless, trying to make money from corpses. The poor can’t even afford to die these days!’

‘I don’t care how much it costs. I must find her body and give her a decent burial. If I don’t, how will I be able to look my descendants in the eye?’ He lowers his bloodshot eyes. The sweat on his face evaporates in the breeze.

‘If no one saw her jump, she’s technically a missing person,’ Kongzi says. ‘Why don’t you contact the river police and ask them to help you look for her?’

‘I’ve spoken to them. They told me a person must be missing for one month before they can open a case, and she’s only been gone for ten days. They won’t help. Here, brother, have another cigarette.’

‘No, I couldn’t. They’re a top brand. Must have cost you a fortune.’

‘Don’t worry. The Education Board gives us two packs a month. It’s some shady deal they’ve cooked up with the tobacco company. They deduct the cost from our salary, whether we smoke them or not. What’s your name, brother? Mine is Weiwei.’

‘I’m Kong Lingming,’ Kongzi says, the wind blowing in his face. ‘The problem is, if the river police did agree to follow up the case, they’d probably just send a few messages out to local police stations. They wouldn’t dispatch a search party unless you paid them a huge bribe.’

‘That’s why I’ve come to search for her myself.’ Then he raises his head and looks Kongzi in the eye. ‘So, Mr Kong Lingming, I presume from your name that you’re a seventy-sixth generation descendant of the great sage. It’s an honour to make your acquaintance. We have a Kong in our county too, from the seventy-fifth generation. He’s a deputy to the National People’s Congress.’

‘Yes, I am a descendant — but I’m having to live like a tramp now so that I can continue my illustrious line,’ Kongzi says, embarrassed by his lowly circumstances.

Green forested mountains begin to tower on both sides. Meili gazes up at the peaks then down at their reflections plunging into the river. She breathes in the green light and feels her mind clear. There are no villages or towns in sight. She closes her eyes and lets the peace and calm wash over her.