the Contemporary China and Chinese Stories : November 2018

Mike walks in the barbershop for pubic hair that he frequents in years.

Peter The Barber: Hello hello. Welcome, old boy.

Mike: Hello old chap. You look smart today.

Peter: thank you. Love. How would you like to get your hair done today?

Mike: well, I thought I’d perhaps try a different style, you know, given that, you know, there is the thing about the thing on the newspaper lately that has made me quite the center of the thing, hence I’ve been invited to go to all kinds of fancy things nowadays and deliver speeches about the thing.

Peter: I see, I see. Congratulations, you smart fancy arse. I think I’ve just got the right selections in mind for you to begin with.

Mike: you always know me well, you sweet loving silly pumpkin. Show it to me.

Peter: here is the complete list of our latest styles available for your reference. You can see it’s all very neatly organised: you can choose by styling methods, by popularity level, by major trends, popular personas or color patterns. Many of the styles are cross referenced, for example, you can find Donald Trump under popular persona “politician”, then by “politician”, he appears in both “Kinky” and “Californian Sunshine Gold”. You can also find the Queen under “entertainment” and inside which, she appears in both “4D digital perms” and “royal purple”. And of course, you can mix and match like mixing a Thai papaya chicken salad.

Mike: well, what would you recommend? I’d like something both classic and dashing, but not too over the top. Something very different than what I have now but still says I’m who I am, plus you know, I’ve got the thing going on so……

Peter: say no more, my clever baby honey badger. In that case, I’d like to recommend the latest 5D wireless digital blue tooth cold straightening method, a David Beckham trim with a Sherlock Homes twitch to match your sweet young genitalia yet add a bit sophistication to your two perfectly round peachy balls. As for color, I’d personally recommend the dark Christmas ginger as base, you know, to match the seasonal theme, but add just a few highlights of ocean blue on the right side to balance the leftward positioned penis. And to finish up, I’d like to recommend the new vanilla chocolate flavored conditioner to be applied and massaged thoroughly to ensure an even softer texture. Now how does that all sound?

Mike: oh you do know me well, you clever tasty little toasted bread. Would you do me yourself?

Peter: yes without doubt. I wouldn’t trust anyone else for your buttery spongy humpy tushy.

Mike: oh stop it. Really? Stop it. Really? Stop it……

Peter: and not only that, if you sign up for our latest baby-soft tushy moisturizing steam today, we’ll make photocopies of your new pubic style for free, which you could send as holiday cards to friends, families and business associates during this special season.

Mike: that’s brilliant idea, you yummy spicy curry pudding! How many copies can you make?

Peter: as many as you want, you loving savory multi-layered Wellington steak.

Mike: I’d like to make 8000 copies please, my sexy petite pinky-toe-like biscuit.

Peter: 8000 copies. My Goodness. Did you just say 8000 copies, you wicked cute chubby bear?

Mike: yes please if that’s not too much trouble for you, my yum yum potato chip. You see, I’ve been invited to many charity auctions these days because of the thing.

Peter: oh what the hell, for you, anything, my darling young cauliflower-decorated chicken wrap. Now strip off, shall we?

Mike took off his trousers……

fading out…..

At the crack of dawn, Mother came into my room. She quietly sat by my bedside and said: “Qiong Bao, there is a farmer’s bazaar in the county today. Let’s take some rice there and get some cash for your father’s medications.”

I struggled to half open my eyes and took a look outside the window. The sun hadn’t fully set on our little village and the sky was still in its inky blue. At this hour, few souls were roaming the country roads. The tractors, shovels, hoes, picks and chimneys, all that hinted at bustles were now lying quietly. And I was too sleepy to get up.

I could hear father coughing in the next door. Mother was busying herself in the kitchen. The warm fragrance of food tingled with the smell of cooking oil. My lethargy gradually melted away. I sat up and put on my clothes.

“sister, May I go with you? Perhaps you’ll buy me a popsicle?” my younger brother came in, hair matted.

“you can’t go, Yi Bao. You have to stay and water the field.” Father’s voice came from the next door, followed with a few coughs, and then a few more coughs.

Reluctantly, Yi Bao protested: “But it’s such a hot day. You’ve just had a heatstroke yesterday. And now you are asking me to do the same. Aren’t you worried I might get a heatstroke, too?”

“Oh, you are afraid of the heat?! But so is the land. If all farmers think like you, we’d be skint by the end of the year. Then what do we eat?” Father raised his voice. His coughs got worse when he was exhilarated.

Yi Bao stuck his tongue out and winked at me, and quickly disappeared into the next door.

I heard father giving him instructions from this side of the wall: where to get enough irrigation water, which side of the field to begin with, what are the places you have to watch out for others coming to steal your water line for their own, stuff like that.

After breakfast, Yi Bao took out father’s hoe from behind the kitchen door and left home.

Mother and I started to pour rice into the buckets. When both buckets looked full, we put each on the scale for weighing. One was about 40 kg and the other was about 30kg.

“let me carry the heavier one.” I said to her.

“You college kid is not made for such task. I’m used to it.”

She slid the heavier load on the carrying pole and lifted it upon her shoulder before I could say anything further. I picked up the lighter one and waddled after her.

“be careful on your way. Our rice is first-rate. Don’t sell it short.” Not knowing when, father had come to the door, his entire body leaning against the door frame.

“Got it. Go lie down now.” keeping balance of the pole, mother tilted her head slightly to one side, “there are leftovers in the wok. Ask Yi Bao to heat it up for you at lunchtime.”

The bazaar was some four miles away from our village. The country roads, built in long serpentine rows that followed the contours of the mountainsides, were dusty, lumpy and dry, especially after nearly 3 weeks without a single drop of rain and being exposed to the harsh, fervent sun. Carrying the rice buckets, mother and I had to pause a few times, thence it took us a whole hour to finally reach the county.

The market was already full of people selling all kinds of goods. Blocks of tawny bamboo carrying poles lined the grimy main road. Toddling through the crowd, we quickly found an empty spot and put our things down. Sitting on one end of the pole, I took my straw hat from the top of the bucket and from a plastic bag a towel that I soaked in icy well water before leaving home, but now warm. I waved them both in hands, letting the soft breeze gradually cool my skin.

It was still rather early in the morning, but already I could sense the hot white steam evaporating above the top of my head. I couldn’t imagine how much hotter it’d get at noon. I thought of Yi Bao. He had to work under the boiling sun for this entire day.

Looking around, there were quite a few rice sellers. I wondered if they all urgently needed money as we did……

Most of these people were familiar faces from our village. They were all farmers like us. Who would buy our rice?

I asked mother the question.

“there will be dealers coming to collect rice later. They have trucks going to the city where they can sell it for much more money.”

“why let them take the profit off us? We can take our rice to the city, too.” Said I, indignantly.

“With our limited amount of rice, the money we get couldn’t even cover the travel cost. Not to mention that we don’t have a truck. When your father was healthier, though, he used to carry 50 kg of rice and walk to the city to sell them in the streets. That was good profit.”

My heart ached.

It’s more than 30 miles of mountain road from our village to the city. I couldn’t imagine how hard it would have been for him to walk with his two feet while carrying such a heavy freight. And it’s all for just a tiny bit more profit. It’s so not worth it.

But what else could we do? Like most farmers, we had no other source of income other than working the farmland and selling its products. It’s what paid for the tuition for Yi Bao and for me.

Pondering upon it saddened me.

I secretly glared at mother who was sitting beside me. Her hair was greyer than last year. Strings of sweat gathered on her dark wrinkled forehead, some running pass her red swollen eyes, leaving a glittering trace down her face, at last, vanishing behind her ears.

“Have some water, mom.” I handed her the water bottle.

The dealers finally arrived with their trucks.

The men hopped off their lifts, took a long look around, then began to spread, went closer to examine the rice stands one by one. Some of the men stuck one hand in the rice pile and pinched several grains among their fingers to feel the texture.

“1.05 Kuai.” a dealer made an offer.

The seller murmured at the price.

“no negotiation. Take it or leave it.” The dealer was firm. There were so many rice sellers around that same corner but only one buyer after all.

Seeing what’s happening over there, mother turned to me: “1.05 Kuai? That’s too low. It was at least 1.1 Kuai last time.”

A dealer man stopped by our stand. He grabbed some rice from the bucket in front of me and studied them for a while under the sunlight.

“these are very good quality. See, pearly white and plump. And they’re all carefully sifted. Not a single sand left.” Mother said proudly, conjuring up a wide smile.

Indeed, our rice was the best on the market.

The man nodded, “Not bad, not bad. But the market price has dropped these days and it’s becoming difficult to make a profit for everyone. 1.05 Kuai, deal?”

Mother shook her head, “it’s too low. It was 1.1 last time. you are the expert here. You know the quality. Ours is much better than the others.”

The man checked the rice again. Hesitantly, he said, “it was supposed to be all standard price, no bargaining. But I’ll make an exception for you. 1.08 – final offer.”

Mother shook her head again. “Look at the quality. It’s at least 1.1 Kuai. Add a bit more please?”

The man laughed disdainfully. “it’s impossible to sell for 1.1 today. if you are not selling it at 1.08 now, it’d be harder for you to sell at even 1.05 by the time when the market is about to close.”

“We’d carry it back home then.” Mother was irritated by his attitude.

“wait until you carry it home then.” The man walked away.

I did a quick calculation in my head. It was 2 cents less for every 500g. we had about 75 kg here. It would be 3 Kuai less in total. was it really worth carrying it all the way back just because of such a small difference? My shoulders were still sore.

I gently suggested to mother, “Maybe we should settle for 1.08. It’s only 3 Kuai difference in the end. Plus, we need the money for father’s medications.”

“How can you say that?” mother sounded mad. “3 Kuai is also money. And it’s not just that. It’s a matter of fairness and one’s conscience. We worked hard all year for it. And the quality is so good. How can we give in so easily?”

I didn’t dare to argue back. I knew how strenuous it was to work on the farmland.

Taking the irrigation bit for example, didn’t father just get ill from it? And Yi Bao was only 12 years old. Now he had to take over the big heavy hoe and carry on with the task.

It was the only livelihood for our entire family after all.

A few more buyers came by and left. Most of them made offer for 1.05 Kuai, few offered 1.08 Kuai. Nobody was willing to offer more than that.

Mother was quite persistent.

Time slowly passed. there were fewer and fewer buyers on the market now. I began to feel fretful. Mother must have felt the same.

“Mom. Go take some rest under that tree over there.”

Mother wiped off the sweat on her forehead, “I can’t. What if somebody came to buy our rice. You are not good at bargaining.”

I felt ashamed. Regardless of having always been the top in my class, I was pretty much useless in these practical areas.

More people had come and gone. They all seemed interested at the beginning, because our rice was indeed very good quality. Nonetheless, none of them was willing to pay 1.1 Kuai for it.

It had long passed noon and I was hungry. We had an early start today. Mother took out our lunch box and handed me a spoon.

She took 2 bites of the homemade bread, and put the lunch box down. I knew she was worried. So was I.

“I’m not so sure we’d sell.” She sighed.

Seeing an opportunity, I proposed: “Perhaps we should lower our price for just a tiny bit.”

“I’m having it under control.” She replied.

There were fewer people on the market in the afternoon. It was burning hot. Who would want to voluntarily stay in the hot steam If they had a chance not to.

Sweat had soaked up the back of mother’s shirt and the sun had made red marks on her face and her neck.

“Mom, let me watch the stand for a while. You go have a wash in the river.”

Mother shook her head as usual: “I have got rheumatism. I can’t stand the cold water. You go take a rest under that tree.”

“No, I am not tired yet.”

“then go get yourself a popsicle.” Mother took out a 20-cents note from the right pocket of her trousers and handed it to me.

I love popsicles in summer, especially the kind called “Grape Ice”. It was the best. And it was cheap too, only 20 cents each.

But somehow, I didn’t feel like having one today. “I’m not really in the mood for popsicles. I’ll have some water.”

The heat began to ebb in the late afternoon. The bazaar was about to end.

The grocery vendors all rushed off their feet offering uncharacteristic discounts for whatever’s left in their bags. So were the fruit sellers and the vegetable sellers. “70% off……70% off…… Don’t miss it when you pass it……”

I searched around. There were few rice sellers left. Most of them had sold their things and gone home by now.

Mother seemed increasingly on edge. The discomposure mixed with perspiration and dust.

Finally, another dealer came over. “are you still selling? 1.05 Kuai, final offer.”

“check this rice, it’s great quality. It was 1.1 last time……”

“the market is different now. You want to make 1.1? hang on till you carry it home.” the guy cut mother short before she could finish.

Strangely, mother was not angry this time. In a blandly smiling manner, she said: “How about 1.08 then? ”

The man snorted, “at this price? It’d have been hard for you to make a sale even in the morning. Now it’s the closing time. You want to sell for 1.08? You’ve gotta be kidding……”

Mother’s face turned pale. Her lips twitched but not a word was let out.

I couldn’t help but said to the man with indignation: “it’s our decision to make. We don’t care tuppence if you’re buying or not. Don’t stand here and block our sight if you are not buying.”

“hey, don’t get grouchy, little sis.” The man responded with a sneer, “better save some energy to carry your rice back later.”

Waited until the man left, I turned to mother: “see, told you to sell it at 1.08 this morning.”

Slightly mortified, mother answered: “Our rice is the best. You pay for what you get. Didn’t your father tell us not to bargain it away this morning?”

“talking about dad, he’s waiting for us to get the money for medications. Is money really more important than one’s health?”

Mother didn’t reply. She sat silently for a while, and said: “let’s sell it for 1.05 when the next dealer comes.”

But no one ever came again. The dealers got on their trucks and drove away.

The bazaar was closed. We’d sat under the hot sun all day long but sold nothing.

“Mom, let’s go home. Don’t just sit here.”

I put our lunch box, water bottles and towels one by one back in our bag.

Mother paused for few moments and stood up.

“let me carry the heavier one this time.”

“you college kid is not made for ……”

Without further ado, I quickly stooped to pick up the heavier load, slid it on the carry pole, and lifted it up on my shoulder.

Mother said nothing more. She took up the other bucket and walked behind me.

The bucket felt heavier than before, as if I was carrying a mountain on my back.

Suddenly my feet slumped. I strived to keep my shoulders still through the tumbling motion, nonetheless, quite a bit of rice still spilled out and landed on the dusty ground.

“what’s the matter?” Mother put down her bucket and came over. “told you not to carry the heavy one. See what happened now? you’re such a black sheep.”

It’s a pet phrase mother often used whenever my brother and I did something wrong.

Yet somehow, it made me particularly hurt today.

“you wait here. I’ll go home to fetch a dusk pan. We can collect them to feed the chickens.” Mother was so focused on saving the rice that she even forgot to ask me if I’ve hurt myself.

I knew mother well. She was the gentlest person in the whole world, but always kept a sharp tongue. I also knew how much she loved me deeply, despite that she just always had to tell me off. Coming to think of it, I no longer felt sorry for myself.

“It’s 7-8 miles coming back and forth and it’s getting really dark.” I reminded her.

“then what do we do?”

All of a sudden, an idea came to me. I took off my straw hat, “put it in here.”

Mother smiled, “you college kid, so clever.”

We got down on our knees and scooped the rice back to the straw hat with our two hands. Till there was not a single grain left on the ground, we then perched the hatful of rice on the top of our bucket and continued to head home.

By the time we got home, brother was already back from the field. Mother went into the kitchen and began to prepare supper while I gave a full report to father about what happened at the bazaar today.

Father quietly listened. He didn’t blame mother for failing to sell the rice. Instead, he said, “These dealers are so greedy. It’s at least 1.5 Kuai in the city. They are such bullies…pressing farmers on their hard-earned dough……”

“we didn’t get you meds.” I said to father.

“there is no need. I will be fine in a couple of days. Why waste money on pills.”

Father’s coughs worsened at night.

Mother said to me: “Qiong Bao, there is a bazaar in Zhuan Bu tomorrow. Let’s go there and get some money back for your father’s medications.”

“Zhuan Bu? Isn’t it more than 10 miles away?” fear crept into me even by just thinking of it. My shoulders still ached and my hands were blistered.

“take less with you tomorrow. 25kg for each bucket is enough.” Father suggested.

“let’s definitely not carry it all the way back like today.” I said, “over 10 miles back and forth with such a heavy load is no joke.”

“we won’t. we won’t.” mother waved her hands, “we’ll definitely sell it, be it 1.05 or 1.08.”

I could sense the bitterness in her voice but I didn’t know how to comfort her.

I was sad, too. I felt an intense urge to cry.

So I turned away, thinking that I’d hide under my sheet to cry later when no one was around.

However, I was too exhausted that I fell deeply asleep right away the moment my head touched the pillow.

------------the End---------------

the Contemporary China and Chinese Stories

Friday, November 23, 2018

[Painting] Before the Storm, On A Shanghai Balcony

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

[Mini Sketch] The Barbershop for Pubic Hair

[Poetry] The Original Work

[Mini Sketch] A Strong Independent Woman

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

[Poetry] Do Not Wander There

[Short Fiction] RICE (by Zhang Pei Xiang)

[painting] A standing horse

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