Empire of the Sun - J. G. Ballard [53]
17
A Landscape of Airfields
As the driver filled the truck’s radiator with water, Dr Ransome settled Mrs Hug on the seat beside the English boys. To Jim it seemed that the two missionary women on the floor were now barely alive, with blanched lips and eyes like those of poisoned mice. Flies swarmed over their faces, darting in and out of their nostrils. After lifting them into the truck, Dr Ransome was too exhausted to help them, and rested his arms on his heavy knees. Their husbands sat side by side and stared at them in a resigned way, as if a taste for lying on the floor was a minor eccentricity shared by their wives.
Jim leaned against the roof of the driving cabin. Aware of the gap that now separated Jim from his fellow prisoners, Dr Ransome moved forward and sat on the bench next to him. The dusty sunlight and the long journey from Shanghai had leached the pigment from his freckles. Despite his strong chest and legs he was far more tired than Jim had realized. Blood had broken through the inflamed bruise on his face, and the first pus gathered around his eye.
He bowed and made way for the Japanese soldier who stationed himself next to Jim.
‘Well, we all feel better for the water. That was brave of you, Jim. Where do you come from?’
‘Shanghai!’
‘You’re proud of it?’
‘Of course…’ Jim scoffed at the question, shaking his head as if Dr Ransome was a provincial country healer. ‘Shanghai is the biggest city in the world. My father says it’s even larger than London.’
‘Let’s hope it can stay larger – there may be one or two hungry winters. Where are your parents, Jim?’
‘They went away.’ Jim thought about his answer, deciding whether to invent some spoof for Dr Ransome. There was a self-confident air about this young physician that he distrusted, the same attitude shown by people newly arrived from England – Jim wondered how the British newsreels were explaining away the surrender of Singapore. He could easily imagine Dr Ransome getting into a brawl with the Japanese guards, and causing everyone trouble. Yet for all his display of public spirit, Dr Ransome had drunk more than his fair share of the water. Jim had also noticed that Dr Ransome was less interested in the dying old people than he pretended. ‘They’re at Woosung Camp,’ he said. ‘They are alive, you know.’
‘I’m very glad. Woosung Camp? So you might be seeing them soon?’
‘Very soon…’ Jim gazed across the silent paddy fields. The thought of seeing his mother made him smile, an act which strained the muscles of his face. She would have no idea of all his adventures during the past four months. Even if he told her everything it would seem like one of those secret afternoons before the war when he had cycled all over Shanghai and come back with hair-raising stories he could never tell. ‘Yes, I’ll be seeing them soon. I want them to meet Basie.’
Basie’s sallow face withdrew behind the collar of his jacket. He peered warily at the Japanese beside the railway tracks, as if suspicious of what was in store for them in these naked fields. ‘I’ll meet your folks, Jim.’ To Dr Ransome he added, without any enthusiasm: ‘I’ve been keeping an eye on the boy.’
‘You kept an eye on me. Basie tried to sell me in Shanghai.’
‘Did he? That sounds like a good idea.’
‘To the Hongkew merchants. But I wasn’t worth anything. He looked after me as well.’
‘He’s done a good job.’ Dr Ransome patted Jim’s shoulder. He slipped a hand around Jim’s waist and felt his swollen liver, then raised his upper Up and glanced at his teeth.
‘It’s all right, Jim. I was trying to guess what you’ve been eating. We’ll all have to take up gardening at Woosung. Perhaps the Japanese will sell us a goat.’
‘A goat?’ Jim had never seen a goat, an exotic beast of great moodiness and independence, qualities he admired.
‘Are you interested in animals, Jim?’
‘Yes…not much. What I’m really interested in is aviation.’
‘Aviation? Aeroplanes, you mean?’
‘Not exactly.’ Casually, Jim added: