FWP Chapter 12

Chapter 12: 12 Idiot

Zhou Zhao became obsessed with projectors for a while. After doing a lot of research and spending half a month’s living expenses, he brought one back.

The salesperson told him that watching “Pirates of the Caribbean” with it would be so visually and aurally stunning that you wouldn’t even know if your neighbor died.

Zhou Zhao wholeheartedly agreed. Although the person next to him was Yu Zipei, and Yu Zipei just fell asleep.

“It’s mainly because you keep putting on stuff I don’t like,” Yu Zipei rubbed her mouth, pushing away Zhou Zhao’s annoyed face that was getting too close. “I want to watch a romance movie. Find me something about love. Perfect timing for me to order takeout.”

“Depp! That’s Johnny Depp!” Zhou Zhao tried hard to persuade her. “Disney made it! They also own Barbie!”

Yu Zipei lazily glanced at him. “So, you’re saying you’re the only one with taste?”

Later, Zhou Zhao watched an old, cheesy romance movie with Yu Zipei. Yu Zipei didn’t watch it once, burying her head in a plate of Xinjiang stir-fried rice noodles the whole time. Zhou Zhao, on the other hand, shed a few tears.

The male and female protagonists in the movie were clearly right in front of each other, but they kept passing each other by again and again.

Zhou Zhao cursed the male and female leads for being blind and not getting glasses.

Yu Zipei comforted him, “Alright, alright, it’s just a movie. In real life, you’d see me in one glance, and I’d see you, too.”

“It’s just blind people making a movie about blind people.”

Zhou Zhao firmly believed that if he were acting, he would definitely turn around and grab the other person the first time they brushed past each other.

/

2009, late spring.

The port was crowded with people.

Chen Buchu charged left and right through the crowd, squeezing out a path. He rushed from the first group boarding the ship to the end of the line, looking around for something.

The end of the line was loosely formed, with people standing or squatting haphazardly, spaced a few steps apart.

At the very end stood a person, facing away from the ship, looking out at the distant town.

Chen Buchu called out, “Wanderer! What are you spacing out for? Let’s go!”

Wanderer didn’t turn his head. Chen Buchu stood next to him, following his gaze to look – a residential area. On the rooftop of one of the houses stood a flagpole with a tattered rag of an indistinguishable color hanging at the top.

“What are you looking at?”

Wanderer said, “I was wondering who put it up there.”

Chen Buchu: “A person. Or a cat?”

Wanderer didn’t want to bring the topic down to such a vulgar and practical level. He said philosophically, “Perhaps it’s an impulse. That rag used to be just a rag, but its dream was to climb to the highest point of the pole and unfurl into a flag.”

Chen Buchu understood his “philosophy” and even considered himself a “philosopher.” He strongly agreed, “When a rag is on the ground, it’s just a rag, but after it gets a chance, it becomes a flag. Even if it’s the ugliest one, people can’t look at it with the eyes of a rag.”

“No, I’m not discussing self-improvement.”

Wanderer turned his head to look at him. The cigarette in the corner of his mouth was burning to the end, the wisps of white smoke almost touching his nose as they floated up.

“Maybe an external force sent it to a place it shouldn’t be. Then who will pick it up? It’s not a flag, and it’s not a rag. It’s a brand new creature. Will the person who picks it up give it a name?”

“Rag-flag.” Considering how it sounds, Chen Buchu pronounced “mǒ” (wipe) a different way.

The two philosophical windbags smiled at each other. Chen Buchu put his arm around Wanderer like a good brother, and chattered on about how to settle down over there and how to meet up with the people his dad sent.

Chen Buchu led Wanderer to their cabin. It had bunk beds and a window the size of two palms.

Wanderer pressed his face against it to look. He wasn’t wearing his contact lenses. Through the glass covered in scratches, the shadow of the flagpole was as thin as silk, merging into one of the scratches.

The rag-flag became a small square, below it was the hotel where he and Zhou Zhao had stayed. He had kissed Zhou Zhao, and Zhou Zhao had kissed him back.

Will the scar on my abdomen still remember me?

The ship left the port. Chen Buchu noticed Wanderer’s sadness and comforted him: “It’s like this. When someone leaves, someone comes back. You’re leaving now so that you can come back better in the future. Your grandmother will understand.”

Fifty kilometers east of the port, the clock tower in the train station square ticked to “10,” the deafening chimes echoing far away.

Zhou Zhao, sandwiched among a group of haggard travelers, walked dazedly out of the underground passage.

His father was very angry about his breakup with Yu Zipei. Zhou Zhao expected a beating, but he didn’t expect his father to smash his phone and computer this time. After Li Tinglin helped him run away, Zhou Zhao borrowed his phone to call Wanderer, but neither Wanderer’s home phone nor his new phone card were answered.

Their high school homeroom teacher received a call from Zhou Zhao after graduation. After exchanging pleasantries, he was surprised. “Wanderer? How would I know where he is? But there shouldn’t be any major problems. I was very relieved that you two were going to school in Beijing together.”

“Relieved?”

“He used to hang out with Chen Buchu every day, either picking locks or fighting in gangs. If you hadn’t come along, that kid would still be farming with his grandmother at home.”

Zhou Zhao said a few random words and hurriedly bought a ticket and boarded the train.

He spent a day and a night on the road. Only when he calmed down did he feel that the bruises on his body had eased a little.

Taking this night train twice in a row in half a month, the starting point and the terminal are the same, and the person to find is the same, Zhou Zhao’s mood is very different.

He stood in the connection between the train cars, drinking water. Across from him, a middle-aged man sat dozing on a luggage bag. He had a plush doll stuffed in his arms. Every once in a while, the man would vigilantly open his eyes to scan his surroundings, then pat the doll on his chest and close his eyes to pretend to sleep.

Once, their eyes met. Zhou Zhao smiled politely. The middle-aged man was a little surprised. He pulled a plastic bag out of the luggage bag and indicated that Zhou Zhao could take it to sit on and rest.

He sat by the train car door for a few hours, his back hurt, his spine hurt, his whole body hurt. He remembered before the start of school last year, Wanderer sent him a text message saying that he was on the train to Beijing.

Was Wanderer also sitting here then?

For only a few seconds, Zhou Zhao felt a little sad.

Turning his head, he felt like he was brain-dead. Wanderer hadn’t been beaten by his father, and he could buy a student ticket with his admission notice. Also, he was going to see him now to explain things clearly. No matter what Wanderer encountered, he would always be with him in the future.

He used to like me. When did he start liking me? I have to ask him. What if he lied to me?

He probably wouldn’t lie to me, right? But who knows? Didn’t that good kid’s facade trick me before?

The train entered a tunnel, and the window reflected Zhou Zhao’s face. He suddenly caught a glimpse of himself actually smiling.

Is being tricked by Wanderer a happy thing? Idiot.

/

Dawn was breaking. Yu Zipei suggested that Wanderer go home with her to sleep.

Wanderer was stunned for a moment. “That’s not good, is it?”

“What’s not good? Ah, I’m so sleepy,” Yu Zipei called for a car on her phone. She glanced at Wanderer, whose hands didn’t know where to put them, and smiled meaningfully. “Do you like kids? There’s an especially noisy one at my house, and her mom is also especially noisy.”

Hearing this, Wanderer felt at ease.

At five o’clock, the driver was drowsy and played a very loud song. Wanderer and Yu Zipei sat in the back seat. Yu Zipei was half asleep. Wanderer asked the driver to change to a quieter song.

As soon as the prelude started, the bit of sleepiness that Wanderer had managed to gather disappeared.

Tsai Chin’s voice was beautiful like silk. It was a song that he and Zhou Zhao had listened to together.

Wanderer listened quietly to the end, and then he asked the driver if he could play it again.

The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror and said with a smile, “Sure, I’ll put it on repeat for you. But I can’t listen to slow songs. I get sleepy as soon as I hear them. Chat with me for a while.”

Yu Zipei, with her eyes closed, shouted, “Ha! Ha! Ya yi—!”

Wanderer and the driver were startled. Yu Zipei said, “Still sleepy, driver? I can keep shouting.”

After making a commotion, the driver kept quiet.

Wanderer looked at the elevated bridge outside the window, vaguely feeling that he had been here before, back when Zhou Zhao and Li Tinglin were sitting in the front seats of the car.