The Dark Road: A Novel Part 6

'Come and sleep next to me,' Meili says. She pulls her down onto her mattress. The boat rocks from side to side. 'Didn't you hear me, Kongzi? Lower the curtains I'm shivering. Now go back to sleep, Nannan.'

'I like sleeping next to daddies, not mummies,' Nannan says, rolling back towards Kongzi who's lying on a folded blanket, his head resting on three magazines.

'The nights are so cold now,' Meili says, tucking a jumper around Nannan. 'If we don't withdraw some cash from the bank tomorrow and buy a generator and an electric heater, Nannan will come down with a terrible illness. We can't live like animals any longer.'

KEYWORDS: deep-fried dough stick, sperm, mandatory sterilisation, shiny leather shoes, scorched poultry.

MEILI IS WOKEN by distant voices shouting, 'There's a man in the town who's threatening to leap from a five-storey building. Quick, everyone, go and have a look!' As Meili sits up, a stream of Kongzi's sperm leaks out from her and runs down her thigh. Grimacing with anger and disgust, she pulls some tissues from a box and stuffs them inside her knickers. That b.l.o.o.d.y condom must have split last night, she says to herself. If I fall pregnant, I'll become an enemy of the Party again. During the eight months since the abortion she has fended off Kongzi, but last night she relented, and let him push his way inside her.

Kongzi rolls over and says, 'If you're going over to take a look, buy me a deep-fried dough stick. I'm starving.'

'Why would I want to watch a stranger jump to his death?' Meili says. 'I'm not far off from jumping into the river myself. You want a dough stick? What about those noodles left over from yesterday?' Kongzi's cigarette smoke rises straight into her nose. She stands up and coughs.

They've set up home on the sand island. Meili has reared almost thirty ducks, and Kongzi has bought two egg-laying hens and a rooster which he keeps in the bamboo cage. When he isn't hauling cargos of smuggled or fake goods, he scours the town and rubbish dump for junk he can sell. There are twelve other families living on the island, most of them fellow family planning fugitives.

Meili dips a flannel into the river and rubs it over her face and body, flinching from the cold. Their neighbours Xixi and Chen are about to sail over to the town. They were the first family to arrive on the island. Last year, the river police pulled down all the shacks, but the islanders soon built themselves new ones with tarpaulin and wooden planks scavenged from the dump. A strong sense of community has formed among the families. Everyone rears chickens and ducks, so the air is always filled with the scent of roast meat.

'Want a lift, Meili?' Chen calls out. Meili says yes, but quickly changes her mind. 'No, if a big crowd has gathered to watch the man jump, the town will be swarming with police. I don't want to get dragged off to a family planning clinic and have some stranger push an IUD inside me.' Meili has developed a fear of crowds, and has only visited the town three times.

'Stop worrying,' Kongzi says. 'I told you, the head of the County Family Planning Commission is a reasonable man. We wouldn't be allowed to stay on this island otherwise. You go into town, and take Nannan with you.' Kongzi picks up lots of local information from other scavengers on the rubbish dump. Last week, he was told that a professor from Guangxi University was giving a lecture on Neo-Confucianism and Modernity at the County Cultural Palace, which he made a special effort to attend.

'No, I won't take Nannan,' Meili says, stepping onto Xixi and Chen's boat. 'There might be child s.n.a.t.c.hers in the crowd.'

'But those gangs only s.n.a.t.c.h boys,' Kongzi says.

'I don't care. You look after her.'

Once the boat pulls away, Kongzi wades into the river and feeds yesterday's leftover noodles to the chickens in the cage.

Up in the centre of town, after walking past the covered market and newly built Eastern Sauna House, Meili sees a large crowd staring up at a construction worker who's threatening to jump from the top of a half-finished office block. When he waves his hands about he reminds her of an old school friend who now works for the governor of Nuwa County. Anxious to escape the crowd, she skirts its perimeter and enters a wide, empty street. In the clear morning light, the family planning banners strung overhead appear even larger. One side of the street has been recently covered with cement; the other side remains potted with holes. She walks on, following smells of dough sticks and fried dumplings which lead her to a small food stall outside a restaurant with blue-gla.s.s windows.

Meili buys three dough sticks. Unable to resist, she opens the newspaper wrapping straight away and bites into one. Delicious. She sits on the restaurant's concrete step and reads the slogan daubed on the opposite wall: ANY PERSON FOUND TO HAVE EVADED MANDATORY STERILISATION WILL BE ARRESTED AND FINED. For the first time since the abortion, she is able to read this familiar slogan without her stomach knotting with fear.

She studies the blank expressions of the people pa.s.sing by on their way to work, and feels frustrated. She too would like to stroll to work every day wearing a smart dress, shiny leather shoes, holding a handbag containing a hairbrush and make-up. But peasants are banned from entering tall office buildings which are warmed in winter and cooled in summer, and where staff are paid high salaries for sitting at their desks all day. Although Meili was born into a peasant family, she longs to live like the rich women in television dramas who own air-conditioned flats and air-conditioned cars and never have to set foot in a field. Once she has joined their ranks, she too will dress herself in a tailored suit, paint her nails red, fasten elegant sandals to her feet and stride into an air-conditioned jet or the carpeted foyer of a luxury hotel. She may be inadequately educated, but she has confidence and determination. She is able, after all, to perform a song in public having heard it only twice. She still dreams of becoming a pop star, and of travelling the country singing ballads in satin ball gowns. Before she married, she and six friends from Nuwa Village formed a group called the Nuwa International Arts Troupe, and toured local coal mines and rural markets, performing pop songs and belly dances. But she quit after a week when the manager of one village hall told her that unless the girls danced naked on the stage, no one would pay money for tickets. She's always believed that women should be respectable and modest. Since marrying Kongzi, she has dedicated herself to their family and endured their poverty without complaint. But she feels now that the time has come to pull herself together, find a job and start earning some money. Even if they never manage to live in a city, she must at least make sure that they can build themselves a new house back in Kong Village equipped with all the latest electronic appliances.

She walks back past the five-storey block from which the construction worker is still threatening to jump. The crowd has swollen. A man who's set up a makeshift stall shouts through a megaphone: 'For the best viewing experience, buy one of my telescopes and folding stools!' People impatient to get to work cry out: 'Hurry up and jump, will you? We can't wait around all day.' Without glancing up, Meili pushes her way through the crowd, managing to reach the covered market with the two remaining dough sticks intact. The smell of scorched poultry in the air is familiar to her. Since she got married, she has always been the one to slaughter the chickens, pluck them, then scorch the soft down from their skin. Glancing around at the busy stalls of the market, she thinks to herself, perhaps I could set up business here too. At least it's sheltered from the elements.

She turns to a stallholder and asks, 'How much are the ducks today, sister?'

'Three yuan a jin, and an extra yuan if you want it killed, plucked and gutted.'

'I can pluck. Are you looking for a.s.sistants?' Meili's already contemplating selling their flock of ducks to raise money to rent a s.p.a.ce and buy stock.

'No, that guy over there is, though,' the stallholder replies, raising her eyebrows in the direction of a tall skinny man who's standing beside a fish stall.

Meili approaches him and asks for a job. He fixes his large, protruding eyes on her and says: 'I need someone who can gut and scale. I pay one jiao a fish. If you want to see how it's done, sit here and watch.'

Meili pulls over a wooden crate, sits down on it, and sees on the wall opposite her a notice that says: MILK POWDER WARNING ISSUED BY THE MUNIc.i.p.aL HYGIENE DEPARTMENT. TO SAFEGUARD INFANT HEALTH AND PREVENT DAMAGE TO THE WIDER POPULATION, A BAN HAS BEEN PLACED ON INFERIOR-QUALITY MILK POWDER . . . She remembers Kongzi mentioning that he delivered a cargo of counterfeit milk powder to some businessman who'd bought them wholesale for three yuan a bag and was planning to sell them on the streets at triple the price. At the time, she reasoned with herself that whether the powder was fake or genuine, it would at least provide more nourishment than the rice gruel most peasant women feed their babies. Infant formula is always in demand. She is sure that if she opened a stall selling baby products in this market she could make a good profit.

After watching the fishmonger gut and scale for several hours, Meili realises that Kongzi must be hungry for the dough stick and is probably wondering what has taken her so long. She goes out into the sunlight and runs downhill. The June sun is scorching the dust on the pavement and the clumps of withered weeds growing along the kerbs. A hot wind chases her all the way to the river. She wades into the water, panting for breath, and scans the distant sand island, but sees no sign of Kongzi or their boat. Then, turning to her right, she spots their boat emerge from a huddle of rafts tethered to the jetty. The rooster stretches its head out of the cage and stares at her. Wiping the sweat from her face, she waves to Kongzi who's standing behind the wheel wearing a vest and shorts and muddy flip-flops.

He helps her onto the boat with the bamboo pole, frowning disgruntledly. 'What took you so long?' he barks.

Nannan's dress is sopping wet. She sticks her leg out, points her bare toes and says, 'Dad said I can't dance, Mummy!'

'I was in the market, learning how to gut fish,' Meili tells Kongzi. Sensing his disapproval of her independent att.i.tude, she quickly changes the subject. 'So, did that man jump in the end?'

'I thought that's what you went to see. No, no. He didn't jump. The police dragged him away an hour ago. I withdrew a hundred yuan from the bank. There was no problem. It's not connected to our branch in Hubei Province. We still have a thousand yuan left in our account.'

Nannan hugs Meili's thigh. 'Mum, our rooster called Red. His long chin called Little Worm. Dad called Snake in Gla.s.ses. You called Big Eyes. You like my names?'

'We need a stable income, Kongzi. I want a job. I want to work, even if it's just on a market stall.' Meili sits at the bow, her damp forehead and shoulders glistening in the sun.

'Mum, this pee or sweat?' Nannan asks, stroking Meili's perspiring thigh.

'So what do you plan to do?' Kongzi sneers. 'Sell fish?'

'I'm a capable woman. You said yourself: I can do anything I put my mind to.'

'Mum, my pee look like orange juice, but I no eat orange today.'

KEYWORDS: shelter, happy birthday, wanton activities, Empress Yang Guifei, condom, red-fried lion heads.

AS SOON AS the rooster crows at dawn, Meili gets dressed, crawls out of the shelter and checks that their boat is still anch.o.r.ed by the sh.o.r.e. A boat was stolen from the island a few days ago, so she and Kongzi have taken turns to sleep in theirs, but last night they both forgot. They've lived on the sand island for a year now, and although they haven't made much money, life has taken a turn for the better. Kongzi has bought himself a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, a gas stove, an electric fan and a tricycle cart which he uses to make local deliveries. He's attached an extension lead from the mini generator on the boat, so the shelter has electricity as well. Meili's bought a watch, a small black-and-white television and a singing cloth doll for Nannan. Although their shelter is a humble affair cobbled together from old doors and decking, it has a chipboard bed Kongzi made which is covered with foam cushions, so at least their nights are comfortable.

Through the bamboo trees and willows on the opposite bank, Meili can see the outline of the town. The illuminated signs of the Eastern Sauna House, still shining at dawn, suggest the wanton activities of the previous night. A junk-laden truck is driving towards the rubbish dump. Once the dump has encroached ten more metres into the river, the Xijiang authorities will cover it with cement and erect a statue of the Tang Dynasty beauty, Empress Yang Guifei, who they claim was born in this town. The central government has urged authorities around the country to develop tourism by erecting monuments and statues honouring local icons. Here in Xijiang, the authorities have already built a mock Tang Dynasty temple on a mound where they claim Empress Yang Guifei was buried, dug a Yang Guifei Well from which they say the beautiful empress once drank, and at the summit of a nearby hill have built a Yang Guifei Pavilion with a dressing table where they claim she sat and combed her long hair. They've also granted protection to the house of a hitherto unknown revolutionary martyr, and charge admission fees priced at ten yuan. Within three years, they hope the county will become Guangxi Province's main tourist destination.

Meili no longer works at the fish stall. She took over a spice stall from a woman who left to have a baby, then, once she'd saved enough money, she bribed the market manager into letting her open a stall of her own. She's also wheedled the job of cleaning the market at night, and is able to scavenge from the discarded produce enough food to feed her family and sell to the islanders as well. Kongzi likes to clean the fish heads, tripe, pig skin and giblets she brings back, then stew them for hours with eight-spice powder to eat as a snack with his beer. Meili has persuaded him to grow vegetables which other stalls don't stock. Discovering that Time Square, a large paved area built hurriedly to impress visiting leaders, is deserted both day and night, he removed a few of the concrete paving stones and planted spring onions in the soil underneath. After checking the patch daily for two weeks without encountering a soul, he lifted some stones under an ornate street lamp that has never been lit, and planted spinach, chives and tomatoes. At the beginning of autumn, when everyone likes to eat hotpot flavoured with fresh greens, he started growing crown daisy leaves for Meili's stall, which have proved very popular. Last month he printed three hundred yellow flyers offering free home delivery of Meili's produce, and distributed them around the market. Meili has realised that, when choices are limited, happiness can only be achieved by striking out on new paths, and that while they wait to set off for Heaven Township, this river town can provide them with sufficient opportunities for a successful life.

She fetches the wok from the shelter and starts preparing breakfast, heating up the fermented rice congee she bought yesterday, adding two raw eggs and a few osmanthus flowers. As she stirs the bubbling mixture, she turns her back to Kongzi and slips two contraceptive pills into her mouth. Although she's checked the dates and is confident that she wasn't ovulating the last time they made love, she doesn't want to take any chances. She has also secretly decided to have an IUD fitted. She's fed up with Kongzi refusing to wear a condom, and having to wash out her v.a.g.i.n.a with soap and water as soon as he falls into a post-coital sleep. She couldn't endure a second forced abortion. She wants to work hard and make enough money to be able to treat herself now and then. She especially deserves a treat today: it's her birthday. She's decided that after she finishes at the market, she and Kongzi will have an evening out in the town.

At dusk, after she's packed up her stall, Kongzi arrives in his tricycle cart, having left Nannan with Chen and Xixi. Meili jumps cheerfully onto the back of the cart. As he pedals off, she picks up some yellow flyers lying at her feet and tosses them into the air, then she unties her cotton scarf and holds it up, letting it trail behind her in the breeze. The street widens as they head for the town centre. They pa.s.s rows of drab grey buildings, a merry-go-round with brightly painted wooden horses, rabbits and tigers, then the tall red edifice of the County Cultural Palace, where kung fu movies and foreign films are shown. Meili has already chosen what to order at the restaurant tonight: steamed silver carp, red-fried 'lion head' meatb.a.l.l.s and hot-sour soup dishes she can't easily cook on the island. So when the food is brought to the table, she's able to remain composed, taking small delicate mouthfuls, while Kongzi wolfs the food down with embarra.s.sing haste. It's not the food itself that Meili appreciates most, it's the joy of sitting in comfort in a clean restaurant, with waitresses purring, 'Red-fried lion heads, madam, I hope you enjoy them,' as they lower the dish onto the table. How wonderful to be treated with respect, to be able to pay others to do the cooking and washing-up. As long as she continues to work hard, she'll be able to sit at cloth-covered restaurant tables like these several times a year. When Kongzi raises his gla.s.s and wishes her a happy birthday, she feels transported back to her honeymoon.

'We must celebrate your birthday like this as well, next month,' she says. She's already decided to buy Kongzi a CD player and a CD featuring his favourite song, the 'Fishing Boat Lullaby'. For a moment, she forgets that they're vagrants, illegal fugitives who don't own a house, a table or even a proper bed. She forgets that she has a daughter back on the sand island, and is even uncertain how old she has turned today. As a child, the only difference between her birthday and any other day was that there would be a few more noodles in her bowl. When she was fifteen, her father gave her a nylon fleece jacket when he returned home for Spring Festival, three months after her birthday. Although she and Kongzi ate at a restaurant during their honeymoon in Beijing Teacher Zhou took them to a famous Beijing Duck emporium Meili was so shy during the meal, she never once lifted her eyes from her plate. So, this is the first birthday she has celebrated properly. Swept up in the excitement, she helps Kongzi finish a whole bottle of rice wine. Only when he raises his last cup and makes a toast to their future son does she finally wake from her happy daze and see the infant spirit flit before her eyes once more.

KEYWORDS: balloons, uterine walls, work permit, vegetables, v.a.g.i.n.al speculum.

AS KONGZI BOARDS the ferry holding a bag of rape seeds he plans to sow in Time Square, Meili asks Xixi to look after Nannan for the morning and prepares to go into town. She's determined to prevent the infant spirit re-entering her womb, the fleshy prison in which it would be doomed to await another execution.

Standing at the edge of the river brushing her teeth, she watches Kongzi disembark on the other side. The colourful rags and plastic bags caught in the trees above him remind her of the balloons that were hung above their front door on their wedding day. It suddenly occurs to her that this view is unfamiliar. The river level must have fallen, exposing the rubbish-festooned trees. In the bright morning sun, the rags and plastic bags sparkle like jewels. The river has dropped and the days are getting colder. Meili remembers Kongzi say that they should start trying for a baby before winter sets in, so that by the time her b.u.mp shows it can be concealed under thick jumpers. He e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed twice last night onto the entrance gate of her state-owned womb. Get on with it, she tells herself. No time to waste.

The street is dusty and scattered with broken bricks. Workers with greasy hair push past her. When she catches sight of the forbidding sign of the Family Planning Centre, she hesitates. Installing a security device at the entrance of her womb would enrage Kongzi, but the thought of falling pregnant again and being bound to the surgical table of an abortion room fills her with greater dread. Happiness's motionless face flashes through her mind.

She walks in and goes to the reception. 'Comrade, I want an internal examination and an IUD insertion,' she says to the young nurse sitting behind the counter.

The nurse's eyes narrow. 'I'll need your ident.i.ty card, marriage certificate and migrant workers' fertility record.'

Meili's mouth goes dry. 'I only have an ident.i.ty card and an abortion certificate,' she replies. The nurse gives her invoices for a forty-yuan pelvic examination and a fifteen-yuan disposable v.a.g.i.n.al speculum, then takes her to the Family Planning Management Room at the end of the corridor and hands her a married woman's gynaecological and fertility a.s.sessment report form.

A female doctor wearing a white face mask palpates and prods Meili's b.r.e.a.s.t.s and abdomen, then tells her to lie on the bed and let her legs flop apart. The nurse tears open a sachet, pulls out a plastic speculum the shape of a duck's head, inserts the device's cold beak into Meili's v.a.g.i.n.a and opens it. A smell of disinfectant wafts into Meili's body.

'You say you just have one, three-year-old child, but it's clear you've given birth much more recently,' the doctor says, shining a torch onto Meili's cervix. Then she turns to the nurse and says, 'Write: smooth, no cervical erosion or polyps.'

'Yes, look you can tell these red nipples have just been sucked,' the nurse says, resting her pen in her mouth and squeezing Meili's left breast.

'There's no milk in there!' Meili says. 'I have no baby, I promise, just one daughter who'll be four next month. I had an abortion last year. Why would I lie to you? I came here to have an IUD inserted because I don't want to fall pregnant again.' Meili is embarra.s.sed by the redness of her nipples. It's Kongzi's fault: he insists on sucking them every night as he drops off to sleep.

'Why didn't you have one fitted after your first child?' asks the doctor, glancing at Meili's abortion certificate. 'And what does your husband do?' She clearly a.s.sumes that Meili is a hair-salon prost.i.tute.

'He's a boatman, and grows some vegetables on the side,' Meili answers, feeling ashamed of Kongzi's diminished status. She winces with pain as the speculum continues to stretch open her cervix.

'All right, we'll give her an IUD,' the doctor says, pulling on rubber gloves. 'You're lucky the director isn't here today. If he were, we'd have to take you straight up to the third floor and get you sterilised.'

'But women are only supposed to be sterilised after their second child, and I only have one.' Meili looks at the door, unconsciously preparing for an escape.

'How do we know how many children you have? You said you were at the end of your cycle, but look how much blood there is on your sanitary towel. Are your periods usually so heavy? When did this one start?'

'Ten days ago. They're very irregular.' She wonders whether the doctor has seen traces of Kongzi's sperm inside her. A wad of surgical gauze is pushed into her v.a.g.i.n.a and twirled around. She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut. Beads of sweat run down her face.

A cold pair of forceps yanks Meili's cervix forward, then a long needle is inserted into her womb, extracted and measured against a selection of IUDs.

'I suggest this oval one,' the nurse says to Meili. 'It's a domestic product, and only costs eighty yuan. The Sino-foreign joint venture ones cost two hundred. Go for the cheaper one. With the procedure fee, it will come to 180 yuan.'

'Oh no! I don't have that much money on me,' Meili says, wishing she could close her legs. 'I thought the IUD would be free.'

'It's only free for local residents,' the nurse replies.

'Exactly how much money have you got?' the doctor asks brusquely.

'Check my pockets,' Meili says, pointing to her trousers.

The nurse pulls out the cash from the pockets and counts it. 'Only a hundred yuan,' she says. 'Are you sure this is all you've got on you?'

'Haven't I seen you in the market?' the doctor says. 'Do you run a stall there?'

'Yes. I sell vegetables, herbs and pickles. Look out for me next time you go. All my produce is free from pesticides.' Meili's lease on the stall will soon expire, and the market's manager has informed her that since she doesn't have an official work permit it can't be renewed.

'Well, we'll do it for a hundred yuan then. I hope you appreciate our leniency. Bring me the oval one, nurse.' The doctor picks up the IUD with long blunt tweezers, opens the speculum even wider and slides the device inside. As her warm uterine walls tighten around the cold metal object, Meili stares at the two red gulls painted on the wall above the radiator.

The nurse hands Meili an appointment form. 'You'll have a follow-up examination three months from now, to check that the IUD hasn't fallen out or been deliberately removed,' she says. 'Any woman who attempts to take out their IUD, even if it's causing them pain, will be fined five hundred yuan.'

'You may suffer cramps, nausea and light bleeding, but these side effects are usually only temporary,' the doctor says, removing her face mask and revealing her brightly painted lips.

The nurse continues to fill in the examination report. 'Did you say her v.a.g.i.n.al ridges have flattened out?' she asks, glancing up at the doctor.

Meili watches the bloodstained speculum being tossed into the bin and hears her cervix release a last thread of air before closing its entrance gate.

KEYWORDS: willow branches, dead chick, chicken wings, cotton fluffer, Three Nos, ox in a yoke.

'COME AND JOIN us, everyone. It's my daughter's birthday. Let me fill your gla.s.ses so we can drink to her health!' Kongzi is sitting on a broken, legless office chair he found on the rubbish dump and has tied to a tree trunk with rope. The battery-operated strip light he bought today is suspended from branches overhead, lighting up the plates of food set out on wooden crates.

'Thank you, Master Kong,' says Dai, a gentle man with large bulbous eyes and a deeply lined forehead. 'Me and Yiping are simple peasants. It's an honour for us to share a drink with a schoolteacher! A toast to your daughter, Master Kong!' Dai grits his teeth and forces himself to down the drink in one. He and Yiping are from Purple Mountain in Jiangsu Province. They moved to the sand island six weeks ago, and have built a shelter under the trees just behind. Meili came across them over in the town. Dai was wandering through the streets with a pole on his shoulders, a bucket of clothes and pans on one end and a cotton fluffer for quilt-making on the other. Yiping, half his height and heavily pregnant, was waddling behind him holding their two daughters by the hand. Meili approached them and advised them to move to the island to avoid being arrested by family planning officers.

A skinny, bald man called Bo lifts his gla.s.s and says, 'Drink, drink!' his scalp and bony shoulders gleaming under the strip light. His fingernails are black and broken from scavenging the rubbish dump. He and his wife have three daughters and a four-month-old son.

Kongzi has fried some chicken wings and Meili has made a salad of wild wood ear fungus. Smells of garlic and sesame oil drift from the men's faces as they tuck into the food. A gaggle of children run up, grab some chicken wings, then go to chase each other along the river's edge. Chen arrives in his boat, tethers it to a rock and climbs the sandy beach. 'So you still manage to remember birthdays on this island!' he says to Kongzi, clapping his hands. 'Ha! We haven't remembered our kids' birthdays for years.' He puts a bag of deep-fried meatb.a.l.l.s onto the wooden crate. When he laughs, exposing his black and yellow teeth, he looks like a monkey.

'My daughter and I both have birthdays in November, so I never forget hers, and we always end up celebrating them together,' Kongzi replies.

Meili and the women are sitting beside them on cardboard boxes, eating rice and braised tofu. The smell of the duck stew simmering on the gas stove outside the shelter makes the breeze feel a little less cold.

'Have some more, Xixi,' Meili says, tapping the bowl of tofu with her chopsticks. 'You're eating for two, now. And try some of this liver. It's full of vitamins.'

'Thank you, thank you,' Xixi says, b.u.t.toning up her angora jerkin and rubbing her small b.u.mp. She turns to Yiping and asks, 'So, when's your one plopping out?'

'Not for another four months. But look, my belly's already so big I can't see my legs any more. Dai said our padded quilts are too hot for this town. He wants us to go into the mountains and see if we can sell them there.' Yiping is sitting cross-legged on a mat. With her large belly bulging from her tiny frame, she looks like a sweet potato freshly pulled from the ground.

'Wait until your baby's born before you leave,' says Bo's wife, a scruffy woman called Juru. 'You can give birth in the backstreet clinic behind the Family Planning Centre. The midwife only charges three hundred yuan.' Juru pulls out her breast from under her shirt and stuffs it into her baby's mouth. When Meili visited her shelter she was shocked by the sodden, mouldy straw on the ground, and advised Juru, for the sake of her baby's health, to replace it more frequently.

'Yes, if you set off now, the authorities might arrest you and give you a forced abortion,' Meili says. 'Dai should forget about selling quilts and try to find work on the rubbish dump. I'm thinking of buying a hundred more ducks and building a large pen on the beach. I reckon I could make ten thousand yuan a year from a flock that size.' Meili feels that now that she no longer has to worry about falling pregnant, she can concentrate on building a comfortable life for themselves here.

'Admit it you've had an IUD fitted, haven't you?' Yiping says in the thick mountain accent Meili finds hard to understand.

'No, no,' Meili replies, glancing nervously at Kongzi. 'I considered it, but then realised that if I wanted another child I'd have to bribe a nurse a hundred yuan to remove it.'

'I'm so stupid,' Yiping laughs. 'All I'm good for is making babies. First time I saw a condom, I didn't know what it was. I thought it might be a piece of tripe, so I plopped it into a soup and ate it!'

'I wouldn't dare let anyone put an IUD inside me,' says Xixi. 'A neighbour back in our village tried to remove one from his wife. He stuck his hand inside her and groped around for hours, but couldn't find it. In the end, he got so frustrated he exploded her womb.' Xixi cringes at the memory, then spits a shard of chicken bone onto the ground.

'Exploded it?' Meili says, her mind returning to the dead face of Happiness.

'Yes, he bunged a firecracker up her v.a.g.i.n.a and set light to it,' Xixi says, crossing her legs and wriggling her toes.

'Men get so obsessed with carrying on the family line, they lose all reason!' Meili says, glancing at Kongzi again. He's banging his fist angrily now, shouting: 'Those f.u.c.king officials, turning up here and bombarding us with b.l.o.o.d.y condoms.' Two days ago, officers from the County Family Planning Commission came to the island to hand out floating population fertility registration forms and bags of condoms printed with photographs of movie stars.

'Hope you didn't swear at them like that when they came,' Chen says, then licks his teeth. 'When my brother was locked up in a detention centre last year for entering a city without permission, he swore at an official, and they cut half his tongue off.'

'I've been detained for vagrancy as well,' Bo says, scratching his bald scalp. 'If you have money and connections, they let you out after twenty-four hours. But I had nothing. They forced me to labour in the fields for two months, and beat me viciously every day. By the time I was let out, I was skin and bone.'

'So, what doc.u.ments do you need to avoid arrest?' Dai asks, brushing some white cotton fluff from his jumper.

'Ident.i.ty card, health certificate, temporary urban residence permit, temporary work permit, birth permit, marriage licence . . .' Kongzi says, rattling off the list. 'But even if you have them all, if you are in a big town or city and you look like a peasant, they'll still arrest you. And once you're in handcuffs, they'll squeeze as much money from you as they can.'

'They call us the "Three Nos": no doc.u.ments, no homes, no income,' says Bo. 'When our son's a bit older, I'll go and work on a building site. Start living a normal life.' Bo is in his late forties. A rumour has circulated the island that he spent time in jail for abducting his neighbour's wife and selling her to a widower in the countryside.

'No, what they really call us is "blind vagrants", aimless drifters,' says Chen, a foolish smile spreading across his face. The Western suit he's wearing is thin and torn. He's making good money now, hauling cargos of oranges up the river several times a week.

'To think that it's now a crime for us to live in our own country!' Kongzi cries out, his face red from alcohol. 'Where do they expect us to go?'