Antonio Garrido - The Corpse Reader

8

Cí found Third as he’d left her: content and oblivious to any danger. Cí praised her for guarding the ham and cut her a slice as reward. To stand out less, he changed out of his white mourning clothes and into a coarse burlap gown that had belonged to his father. He packed the few remaining coins, the penal code, some clothes, and the ham; then he hid the 5,000- qián note in the lining of Third’s jacket.

“How would you like to travel on a boat?” He didn’t wait for her to answer but began tickling her. “You’re going to love going on a boat.”

Cí tried to appear cheerful, even though he felt far from it as they walked to the river dock. Initially he had thought they would travel to Lin’an overland, along the northern road, but that was the busiest route. Even though the trip by river was longer, it would also be safer. At harvest time, numerous rice barges and smaller boats carrying precious wood left from the dock for the maritime port of Fuzhou. From Fuzhou they could follow the coast up to the capital. Cí planned to board one of these barges with Third.

To avoid the crowds, they went to the southern dock, where loading and unloading took place. He came across a large, half-sunken-looking barge where an old man with blotchy skin—the captain, presumably—was urinating over the edge as he watched his two sailors preparing the vessel. Having overheard someone saying Lin’an was its destination, Cí waited for the captain to disembark and then asked him if he and Third could travel on the barge. The captain was suspicious: though it wasn’t unusual for villagers to travel on the barges, they usually negotiated with the shipping agents.

“The thing is,” said Cí, “I owe the shipping agent some money, but I don’t have it at the moment.” He offered the captain a handful of coins.

“That’s hardly enough!” said the captain. “And anyway, you can see how full the barge is already.”

“Please, sir. My sister’s terribly ill, and I can get the medicine she needs only in Lin’an.”

“So go overland.”

“Please…She won’t survive the trip overland.”

“Listen, boy, do I look like a charity? If you want to come along, you’re going to have to come up with the cash.”

Cí, keeping the 5,000- qián note secret, said the coins were all he had. The captain wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll work during the voyage,” offered Cí.

“What good will you be?”

“I’ll work hard, I promise. And I can get more money in Lin’an.”

“Who’s waiting for you there? The emperor with a sack of gold?” But then he glanced at Third, who was pale and tired after the night in the barn and the walk to the docks, and the captain’s heart seemed to soften. He spat on the ground and turned away. “Damn it! All right, you can come. But you have to do everything I say, and when we get to Lin’an, you’ll be the one unloading all the cargo, got it?”

Cí couldn’t thank him enough.

The barge moved slowly, like a fish trying to extricate itself from mud. Cí helped the sailors guide the barge with thick bamboo poles, while the captain, whose name was Wang, stood at the rudder shouting and cursing. Cí wasn’t convinced they’d ever get anywhere—the barge was so low in the water with cargo. Gradually, though, the current grew stronger, and they picked up speed. Cí felt briefly soothed by the thought of leaving the village behind, once and for all.

Cí spent the day helping steer the boat away from the banks with the barge poles and fishing with a borrowed line. A sailor at the prow checked the depth of the river, and another at the stern propelled them along with a pole whenever the current slackened. When the sun went down, the captain dropped anchor in the middle of the river, lit a lantern to attract mosquitoes, and, having checked to see that the cargo was all stowed properly, announced they would start again at dawn. Cí settled down between two sacks of grain next to Third. They ate some boiled rice prepared by the crew, honoring their parents’ spirits before they began. The onboard conversation soon died down, until the only sound in the night was the lapping water. Cí continued to ask himself what he could have done to anger the gods, what it was that had provoked them to ravage his family.

Worn out by everything that had happened and by his own internal debate, he shut his eyes, comforting himself with the idea that his parents were still watching over him and Third. It wasn’t that he was unacquainted with death—he knew of women dying in childbirth, stillborns, children dying young from illness or malnutrition; he knew of deadly floods and typhoons—but none of that had prepared him for the deaths of his parents and his brother. Either the gods were capricious, or he’d done something terribly wrong and this was his punishment. And the pain he felt—he had no idea how he would ever be rid of it.

And he didn’t know what course his life would take next. Lost and overwhelmed, he knew all he could do was focus on the present—getting away from the village, protecting his sister. That was all.

By the time the sun came up the barge crew was already busy. Wang had hauled anchor and was giving instructions to his sailors when a small rowboat crashed into the barge. Wang shouted at the man at the oars, but he was an old fisherman with a foolish grin and didn’t seem to care. Then a small fleet of fishing vessels appeared and swarmed past the barge.

“Damn them, they ought to be hanged!” said the captain.

“We’ve sprung a leak!” shouted one of the sailors. “The cargo will be ruined!”

Cursing, Wang immediately ordered them to move close to shore, just in case. Luckily, they weren’t far from Jianningfu, the main confluence of rivers in the region where there was a large town; they’d be able to get repair materials there. Being near the shore, though, would also make them easy prey for marauding bandits; the captain told everyone, Cí and Third included, to keep their eyes peeled.

The Jianningfu jetty, when they got there, was a hive of dealers, hawkers, livestock, beggars of all kinds, prostitutes, and peons. The stench was of rotten fish, cooking oil, and unwashed, rancid bodies.

As soon as they docked, a small man with a goatee rushed over demanding the docking fee. Wang drove him off with a few kicks; they weren’t stopping to do business, Wang roared, but because some idiot, probably a local, had damaged the barge.

After leaving the younger of the sailors to guard the boat with Cí and sending the older sailor, Ze, to buy bamboo and hemp for the repair, Wang went for provisions. The younger sailor grumbled over being left behind, but Cí was pleased since he wouldn’t have to wake Third, who was fast asleep again, nestled between two sacks of grain. There was a bracing breeze coming off the mountain, and Cí covered his sister with an extra blanket. The younger sailor stood watching the prostitutes go by with their makeup and bright clothes, and he soon spat out the straw he’d been chewing, announced he was going for a stroll, and jumped down to the dock. Cí didn’t mind being alone; he decided to make himself useful by scrubbing the deck.

When he looked up, a girl was standing beside the barge. She wore a threadbare red robe that made no secret of her curves. Her smile showed off a full set of teeth. He blushed when she asked if it was his barge.

She’s even prettier than Cherry.

“I’m just, um, looking after it,” he stuttered.