按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
On the narrow stairway the old man faltered。 He regained his balance with difficulty； then lifted a foot to climb another step … only twenty…eight more now … and then another and he had just made the landing when his calves gave out。 He tottered against the wall； leaning against it to ease the weight； his heart grinding； both hands grasping the straps； knowing he could never resettle the load if he stepped out of the harness； terrified lest the foreman or a subforeman would pass by。 Through the spectrum of pain he heard footsteps ing toward him and he fought the sack higher onto his back and into motion once more。 He almost toppled over。
〃Hey； Nine Carat Chu； are you all right？〃 the other coolie asked in Shantung dialect； steadying the sack for him。
〃Yes 。。。 yes 。。。〃 He gasped with relief； thankful it was his friend from his village far to the north and the leader of his gang of ten。 〃Fornicate all gods； I 。。。 I just slipped。 。。。〃
The other man peered at him in the coarse light from the single bare light overhead。 He saw the tortured； rheumy old eyes and the stretched muscles。 〃I'll take this one； you rest a moment；〃 he said。 Skillfully he eased off the weight and swung the sack to the floorboards。 〃I'll tell that motherless foreigner who thinks he's got brains enough to be a foreman that you've gone to relieve yourself。〃 He reached into his ragged； torn pants pocket and handed the old man one of his small； screwed…up pieces of cigarette foil。 〃Take it。 I'll deduct it from your pay tonight。〃
The old man mumbled his thanks。 He was all pain now； barely thinking。 The other man swung the sack onto his back； grunting with the effort； leaned against the head band； then； his calves knotted； slowly went back up the stairs； pleased with the deal he had made。
The old man slunk off the landing into a dusty alcove and squatted down。 His fingers trembled as he smoothed out the cigarette foil with its pinch of white powder。 He lit a match and held it carefully under the foil to heat it。 The powder began to blacken and smoke。 Carefully he held the smoking powder under his nostrils and inhaled deeply； again and again； until every grain had vanished into the smoke that he pulled oh so gratefully into his lungs。
He leaned back against the wall。 Soon the pain vanished and left euphoria。 It was all…pervading。 He felt young again and strong again and now he knew that he would finish his shift perfectly and this Saturday； when he went to the races； he would win the double quinella。 Yes； this would be his lucky week and he would put most of his winnings down on a piece of property； yes； a small piece of property at first but with the boom my property will go up and up and up and then I'll sell that piece and make a fortune and buy more and more and then I'll be an ancestor； my grandchildren flocking around my knees 。。。
He got up and stood tall then went back down the stairs again and stood in line； waiting his turn impatiently。 〃Dew neh loh moh hurry up；〃 he said in his lilting Shantung dialect； 〃I haven't all night！ I've another job at midnight。〃
The other job was on a construction site in Central； not far from the Ho…Pak and he knew he was blessed to have two bonus jobs in one night on top of his regular day job as a construction laborer。 He knew； too； that it was the expensive white powder that had transformed him and taken his fatigue and pain away。 Of course； he knew the white powder was dangerous。 But he was sensible and cautious and only took it when he was at the limit of strength。 That he took it most days now； twice a day most days now； did not worry him。 Joss； he told himself with a shrug； taking the new canvas sack on his back。
Once he had been a farmer and the eldest son of landowning farmers in the northern province of Shantung； in the fertile； shifting delta of the Yellow River where； for centuries； they had grown fruit and grain and soybeans； peanuts； tobacco and all the vegetables they could eat。
Ah； our lovely fields； he thought happily； climbing the stairs now； oblivious of his pounding heart； our lovely fields rich with growing crops。 So beautiful！ Yes。 But then the Bad Times began thirty years ago。 The Devils from the Eastern Sea came with their guns and their tanks and raped our earth； and then； after warlord Mao Tse…tung and warlord Chiang Kai…shek beat them off； they fought among themselves and again the land was laid waste。 So we fled the famine； me and my young wife and my two sons and came to this place； Fragrant Harbor； to live among strangers； southern barbarians and foreign devils。 We walked all the way。 We survived。 I carried my sons most of the way and now my sons are sixteen and fourteen and we have two daughters and they all eat rice once a day and this year will be my lucky year。 Yes。 I'll win the quinella or the daily double and one day we'll go home to my village and I'll take our lands back and plant them again and Chairman Mao will wele us home and let us take our lands back and we'll live so happily； so rich and so happy。 。。。
He was out of the building now； in the night； standing beside the truck。 Other hands lifted the sack and stacked it with all the other sacks of gold； more clerks checking and rechecking the numbers。 There were two trucks in the side street。 One was already filled and waiting under its guards。 A single unarmed policeman was watching idly as the traffic passed。 The night was warm。
The old man turned to go。 Then he noticed the three Europeans； two men and a woman； approaching。 They stopped near the far truck； watching him。 His mouth dropped open。
〃Dew neh loh moh！ Look at that whore … the monster with the straw hair；〃 he said to no one in particular。
〃Unbelievable！〃 another replied。
〃Yes；〃 he said。
〃It's revolting the way their whores dress in public； isn't it？〃 a wizened old loader said disgustedly。 〃Flaunting their loins with those tight trousers。 You can see every fornicating wrinkle in her lower lips。〃
〃I'll bet you could put your whole fist and whole arm in it and never reach bottom！〃 another said with a laugh。
〃Who'd want to？〃 Nine Carat Chu asked and hawked loudly and spat and let his mind drift pleasantly to Saturday as he went below again。
〃I wish they wouldn't spit like that。 It's disgusting！〃 Casey said queasily。
〃It's an old Chinese custom；〃 Dunross said。 〃They believe there's an evil god…spirit in your throat which you've got to get rid of constantly or it will choke you。 Of course spitting's against the law but that's meaningless to them。〃
〃What'd that old man say？〃 Casey asked； watching him plod back into the side door of the bank； now over her anger and very glad to be going to dinner with them both。
〃I don't know … I didn't understand his dialect。〃
〃I'll bet it wasn't a pliment。〃
Dunross laughed。 〃You'd win that one； Casey。 They don't think much of us at all。〃
〃That old man must be eighty if he's a day and he's carried his load as though it was a feather。 How'd they stay so fit？〃
Dunross shrugged and said nothing。 He knew。
Another coolie heaved his burden into the truck； stared at her； hawked； spat and plodded away again。 〃Up yours too；〃 Casey muttered and then parodied an awful hawk and a twenty…