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.’
‘Class One Protection for fish, indeed! What about us humans? When will we be able to return to our place of origin?’ Meili grasps the bottle of lemonade Nannan is drinking and takes a quick sip.
‘The Yangtze has become so polluted, there are only a few hundred sturgeon left. And when the dam is finished, their migration route will be completely cut off. They’re doomed to extinction.’ Kongzi watches the sturgeon sink below the surface. As he slows the boat down, Meili crawls to the bow. The breeze moving through the blazing summer heat feels cool and refreshing. Grassy embankments, mud houses and mandarin trees slip by on both sides. Her fears seem to blow away. Closing her eyes, she imagines soaring over the golden waters like a wild goose, the river mist in her face, seeing the boats and barges behind her form dark silhouettes against the low sun and the Yangtze stretch into the distance, dissolving finally between two cliff faces into a haze of water and sky.
She begins to sense that drifting down the river could offer her a new way of life, a floating happiness. She feels free and at peace.
Kongzi notices a barge approach and bites his lower lip nervously. He’s never driven a boat before, and is afraid of colliding. In a fluster, he decelerates too quickly and the engine stalls. Once the barge has passed, he pulls the start cord again, adjusts the throttle and the boat sets off once more. Eager to regain face, he slows the boat, throws it in reverse then artfully turns it in a circle. Looking both surprised and proud, he glances back at Meili and says, ‘As my great ancestor Confucius once remarked: “The benevolent find joy in mountains, the wise in water.” How right he was! When he left home after offending the Duke of Lu, he