Su Tong - Madwoman On the Bridge and Other Stories

‘Look, I’m begging you, OK? The last two episodes are on today. It’ll start again after the ad break’s over. Promise me! Promise, OK?’

‘No way!’ The driver said in a falsetto. ‘What do you take me for?’ Suddenly he remembered something and asked, ‘Why not just ten minutes then? Why fifteen?’

‘The first five minutes are for the opening song.’ Xue realized that this question was a sign the driver might be willing to accommodate her, and the thought lifted her spirits so she said, ‘You know, you’re a nice man. I knew all along you were a nice man. I’ll remember you all my life.’

‘You said the same thing last year.’ The driver gave a hollow laugh from inside his net. ‘What do girls like you remember anyway? All you remember is the cash.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean? Why turn nasty all of a sudden?’ Xue sounded flabbergasted. For a moment it seemed she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She pulled back the one that had been lifting the net. ‘Why would you say something like that? Girls like me? What kind of girl am I, then? How do you know what kind of girl I am?’ She cocked her head and looked at the posters on the wall. Then she whispered, ‘If you treat me like shit I’m hardly going to want to serve you, and I don’t care if you do tell the boss. Creep.’

‘Are you swearing at me?’

‘I didn’t swear at you. When did I ever swear at you?’

‘You called me a creep.’

‘That’s not swearing. They dock your salary if you swear at a guest. Don’t go telling lies about me.’

‘How old are you, anyway? And how come you’re so clueless? Do you really think you can earn money here without having the first idea about anything?’ The driver stared at the girl, and his tone of voice changed. It was halfway between reproachful and teasing. ‘Tell me, are you really Xue or not? Do you really not remember me? I came here last year and you kept sobbing like some kind of Lin Daiyu. 3I didn’t even touch you but I paid up, and you said over and over again that you were going to remember me for ever. and now, damn it, in less than a year you’ve forgotten about me altogether! I’m called Lin. It’s me, Lin!’

Xue turned her head; the driver’s words had caught her attention. She lifted the net an inch. Perhaps she wanted to take a closer look at his face, but in the end she was too embarrassed, so she plopped herself down on the edge of the bed. It looked like she was straining to remember something. She just sat there on the edge of the bed, supporting herself with her hands, swaying back and forth as if the movement were helping to jog her memory. But in the end she shook her head and said, ‘No way. If you did something as nice as that, how come I don’t remember it at all? You’re pulling my leg, right? You drivers all like to joke. I’ve never met you before, Liu.’

‘Not Liu, you illiterate! Lin, L–I-N, your friend Lin!’

‘Lin, all right? Don’t get so worked up. Look, if you help me out now, I promise you that next time I’ll remember.’

‘If you don’t remember me, then never mind. Damn it, it’s not like I was counting on you to remember me.’ The driver sat up impatiently under the net, then lay down again. Suddenly he laughed and said, ‘Come on then. Aren’t you worried about missing your TV show? If you want to see that last episode you’ll have to hurry up. I’m in a bad mood and I’m tired too. Maybe you won’t even need ten minutes.’

Then the driver watched as one of Xue’s legs slid under the net; she hesitated over the other, but in the end it came in too. The driver didn’t look at her face; he didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to. He heaved a sigh, swore coarsely under his breath and lifted his eyes to look at the ceiling outside the net. The top of the net was made of white cloth which was yellowing slightly, and through it the driver could dimly make out chilli peppers strung across the room. He asked, ‘What’s hanging up there? Are those chilli peppers?’

‘Yeah, chilli peppers. They use them in the kitchen, but there’s no room so they hang them in here.’

The driver’s whole body began to tremble, and his gaze was drawn, almost unwillingly, outside the net. Dimly he saw an old man sitting on the ground, his face covered in blood, holding chilli peppers in his cupped hands. The driver’s hands trembled until they froze in mid-air. He turned over — the tidal water of desire that had swollen his body abruptly receded and a kind of obscure dread filled his mind. Brusquely he threw off Xue’s hands and kicked her off the bed. ‘You don’t have to pinch me just because you can’t do it right,’ he shouted loudly. ‘Go and watch your TV show.’

This time Xue was frightened; she hadn’t been prepared for his sudden violence and didn’t know how to react. At first she stood barefoot outside the net, stunned, then she picked up her green sandals from the ground. ‘What was that about? There’s something wrong with you,’ she said, then finally she started to cry and ran to the door, sandals in hand. ‘There’s something wrong with all of you, you sick bastards. You’re perverts! I’m damned if I’m going to serve you creeps!’

The driver heard her footsteps recede rapidly, together with the storm of weeping. It sounded as if she’d suffered a huge injustice while the driver also felt like the victim of some nameless wrongdoing. An ordinary matter had become so complicated, against all expectation. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he had even come to Weeping Willow in the first place. Before long he heard the proprietress screaming and the hurried footsteps of several people. He crawled out of the bed and quickly locked the door.

When the proprietress knocked, the driver could hear the two card-playing men conferring outside in low voices. He called, ‘Don’t bother knocking, there’s nothing wrong. Watch your TV show, I’m going to sleep. I’ll just sleep a while and then I’ll be on my way. I’ll pay whatever you say.’

‘Now come on, what’s up with you? If you don’t tell me, I can’t make it right, can I?’ the proprietress cajoled. ‘Xue’s not very bright, she doesn’t always do as she’s told. She’s no good at this kind of work. I’ve already sent word to her family for them to come and pick her up. If we’ve offended you, just be a little understanding with us. It’ll be all right when Hong comes in the evening. No matter what kind of service you need, we’ll give it to you then.’

‘I don’t need any service at all, I just want to have a little snooze.’ Through the door, the driver could smell the proprietress’s strong perfume and suddenly the scent revolted him. He pinched his nose and went over to the room’s only window. He opened the curtains and saw a large cornfield outside, a cornfield after the rain, half green, half yellow, the leaves still sparkling with raindrops. The huge fields and the hills in the distance seemed to have been soaked in rainwater and exuded a faint alcoholic smell. The driver saw something flash past the window. Surprised, he poked his head out and saw two white goats, their coats soaked, huddled together. Apparently they had been standing below his window for some time. He stretched out his hand to touch them, stroking one of them on the back; it felt soft and wet, but the beautiful sensation didn’t last for long before they ran off.

The driver really did want to sleep, if only for ten minutes; he felt exhausted, close to collapse. Before he crawled under the mosquito net, he went to the basin on the stand and gave his hands a good wash. There he discovered they were filthy, with diesel oil and dirt between his fingers. After he had finished washing his hands, as a matter of habit he took a paper tissue from his pocket. He’d already used them up, though, and all he fished out was the crumpled plastic packaging. He felt something else come out of his pocket along with the packaging and fall softly to the floor. The thing he dreaded most came last: it was a red chilli pepper lying on the inn’s plastic matting, shining forth its cool dark red rays.