The Corpse Reader by Antonio Garrido Page A

As he drank the tea, which was spicy, he looked at the girl—her painted-on eyebrows, her rice-powder makeup. She began to sing while using her hands to make motions like those of a flying bird.
    As the melody floated up around him, he took another sip of the hot tea. Cí felt caressed by the song, the tea, the air, the lappingof the river. He began to feel very drowsy, and sweet sleep soon swallowed him whole.

    Cí woke to cold water being thrown at his face.
    “Slacker!” shouted Wang, hoisting him off the dock. “Where’s the damned, damned,
damned
boat?”
    What is happening?
    Cí’s head pounded and spun. The old man shook him, but he couldn’t talk.
    “Drunk! Where’s my sailor? And where in damned hell is my boat?”
    The older sailor threw another bucket of water on him, and Cí began to feel less dizzy. A series of images: docking at the jetty…the captain and the sailor going off…the girl…the tea…and then, nothing. He understood in an instant he’d been drugged and the boat stolen—and with it, his little sister.
    Desperate, he pleaded with the captain to help him find Third. Wang shouted that all he really needed to do was throttle Cí for abandoning the barge.



9
    Wang could have threatened to tear him to shreds, but Cí would have done anything necessary to find his sister.
    He scrambled after Wang, who had dived into the crowds looking for a boat to rent. He didn’t have any luck until he came across a couple of young fishermen next to a skiff. They said they’d rent their boat, but when Wang tried to hire them to row, and when they heard he was going after bandits, they changed their minds: no way would they risk their lives or put their boat in danger. They would agree only to sell the boat—at a massively inflated price. Wang couldn’t change their minds, so he paid them and hopped onto the skiff with Ze. Cí tried to get aboard, too.
    “Damn! What the
hell
do you think you’re doing?” cried Wang.
    “My sister’s on your boat,” he said.
    Wang looked over at Ze—clearly they needed Cí’s help.
    “Fine, but if we don’t recover that damn cargo, I swear you’ll pay for it in blood, which I’ll beat out of you myself. Both of you, get the damn skiff ready, and I’ll go and find us some weapons—”
    “Boss,” Cí interrupted. “Is that a good idea? Do you know anything about weapons?”
    “By God, I know enough to cut out your damn tongue and eat it grilled! How would you suggest we stop them, eh? Offer them a cup of tea?”
    “But,” reasoned Cí, “we have no idea how many there are, or if they’re armed. They probably have a better idea about fighting than a couple of old guys and a country boy like me. If we try and attack them with bows and arrows we have no idea how to use, they’ll slaughter us.”
    “So we just go and ask nicely?”
    “While you argue,” said Ze, “they’re getting away.”
    “Damn you, Ze! Why don’t you just do what I say?” screamed the captain.
    “The boy’s got a point,” said the old sailor. “And if we head off right now, we’ll find them within an hour. They’re bound to unload downriver. They’ll be in a rush, and they won’t have any transport. It will be easy to corner them.”
    “And how do you know all that? A prophet as well as a sailor now!”
    “They’ll see their cargo is wood, won’t they? And they must know that upriver, wood’s worth nothing, whereas down at Fuzhou they’ll get a good price. Plus they’ll want the easy way out—downriver,
with
the current.”
    “And finding them in an hour?”
    “The leak. The barge won’t stay afloat long,” said Ze.
    “Yes! The leak!” said the captain. “They’ll have to make for shore, and as you said, how would they have transport—”
    “Who knows, boss, but I think we should just look for the first inlet or tributary where they might be able to hide from prying eyes. If you happen to know of any—”
    “I damn well do, as it goes! Come on,