‘No, that bucket’s too heavy,’ Nannan says, biting her nails.
Kongzi picks up the bucket, takes it into the duck enclosure and pours the slops into two bowls. The ducks ruffle their wings and jostle their way to the feed, quacking and grunting. Downy white feathers flutter into the morning sunlight.
‘I’ll look after the ducks today,’ Meili says. ‘You have a cargo to deliver this afternoon. Don’t worry, I’m sure if we work hard, we’ll be able to make four thousand in the next two months. And if we don’t, we’ll just have to run away to Heaven Township.’ Meili is wearing Kongzi’s blue cotton trousers and a white shirt she’s left unbuttoned over her bump.
‘You think you can run, with a belly that size? No, we’ll stay here until the baby is born. A cousin of mine travelled the country giving blood for two years. He’s just returned to the village, apparently, and built himself a four-bedroom brick house.’
‘Giving blood too often can be dangerous,’ Meili says, sitting on a pile of old fishing nets. The willows along the creek sweep their branches across the water as though trying to catch her long shadow.
‘It’s no more dangerous than having a piss. Once the bladder becomes empty, there’s always more urine to fill it up.’
‘So you’re going to sell your blood, now? You think you have any left after these mosquitoes and fleas have sucked on you all night?’ Meili is terrified of needles, and the thought of giving blood revolts her.
‘Blood donating is a great career! It doesn’t need any investment – the natural resource is inside one’s own body. Why didn’t I think about it before?’ He pulls off his shirt, turns it inside out, picks off a flea from the sleeve and squeezes it. A drop of blood stains his nails red.
‘How can you dream of getting rich, when you know we’ll soon have another baby to look after?’ Meili takes long, deep breaths. Her belly feels as full and hard as a tightly stuffed pillow.
‘I want to swim, Daddy,’ Nannan says. She picks up a piece of polystyrene lying next to the kennel and flings it into the water. Her feet are bare and the bottom of her long-sleeved dress is wet and muddy.
‘No, the water’s too cold,’ Meili says. ‘Go and scrape the rest of the potatoes, then I can start making breakfast for you.’
‘The brick has gone,’ Nannan says, stroking a long beetle she’s picked up.
‘There’s another brick poking out of the mud behind you. You can use that, or you can scrape them against the tree instead. If you don’t help, your father will make you recite the Three Character Classic.’
‘Nannan, didn’t you hear what your mother said?’ Kongzi shouts, seeing Nannan walk into the creek. Since they set up camp here in October, they’ve felt cold and damp every day. At night, after supper, they either retreat to the boat and huddle around the electric heater, or light the fire pit in the hut and snuggle under blankets with hot-water bottles.
‘Get out of the water, Nannan!’ Meili yells. ‘The yellow foam will give you a rash.’ Afraid that the pollution might harm the baby, Meili hasn’t dared bathe in the creek yet.
‘Why the ducks got no rash, then?’ Nannan asks, stepping back onto the beach.
‘They have feathers to protect them,’ Kongzi replies. He stoops down and pulls out an old cloth shoe from the mud. Behind him is a mound of metal rods, wooden sticks, bamboo poles and greasy ropes covered with flies. A procession of small beetles are crawling towards his feet, searching for food.
‘You told me Happiness likes the water,’ Nannan says, her fringe dangling over her eyes. She has a plaster on her nose because when Kongzi had to stick one over a cut on his nose yesterday, she insisted on having one as well.
‘Happiness is dead – he doesn’t care if the water’s cold,’ Kongzi says.
‘You miss him, Daddy?’
‘No!’ Kongzi replies, his eyes flashing with anger.
‘So when I die, you won’t miss me either?’
‘If you mention Happiness again, I’ll kill you!’ Kongzi shouts, his face crumpling with fury, veins bulging from his skinny neck.
Nannan purses her lips, goes to Meili and says, ‘When I die, I won’t ever wake up again.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Meili replies. ‘When people die, they can’t hear or see anything any more. It’s peaceful.’
‘Happiness is dead, so is Waterborn going to die, too?’ Nannan says, raising her flea-bitten face to Meili.