Fortune Is a Woman - Elizabeth Adler [96]
“We slid unnoticed out of the square, slipping on the evil-smelling mud and tripping over the cobblestones, weaving in and out of alleys, running and running until our hearts thudded in our chests and our throats burned like fire and we gasped for air. We stopped, leaning against a wall, listening intently, but the only sound was our own gasping breaths.
“‘Come,’ I said, taking her hand and beginning to run again, though I did not know where, only away. Away from my evil father and the terrible man who wanted to barter my sister into slavery and prostitution.
“At last we emerged onto a broader street, one I recognized, and soon we were back at the river. We leapt like gazelles into our little sampan and pushed off, paddling fast down the river, like the little ducks pursued by the fateful junk. We did not know where we were going. We knew nothing except our home in our small village. We had no money and no idea of real life.
“We paddled all night and at dawn, exhausted as the ducks, we climbed onto the riverbank and slept. When we awoke a few hours later we were hungry and still exhausted. We hid our little sampan in the reeds and walked down a dusty track until we came to a village, but the peasants there turned their faces from us when we begged for rice. We walked on, not knowing what else to do, and then suddenly we came upon the banks of a clear flowing stream, and a small white-walled Tao ist monastery.
“A young monk in saffron robes inclined his shaven head toward us in greeting and we quickly bowed in return as I explained our circumstances. His eyes filled with pity as he bade us come inside and share what food they had. It was not much because they had no money and lived only on what the peasants placed freely in their bowls, but the thin rice gruel tasted like heaven as it warmed our empty stomachs. And that night we slept on bedmats in a bare little cell and we felt safe with our friends. It was to be our last night of safety for many years.
“The next morning, with a little breakfast gruel in our bellies and their prayers for our safety and good fortune ringing in our ears, we went on our way.
“We had talked things over and decided we would return to the river and paddle our sampan to the next city, maybe even all the way to Shanghai, where we would find work. Night was already falling as we walked the last weary mile and we sighed in relief when we saw our sampan still there in the reeds where we had left it. What we did not see was the black-sailed junk waiting under cover of darkness around the bend in the river, nor the men who crept silently up on us, knives clenched between their teeth—not until they leapt on us, clasping their hands over our mouths so we had not time even to scream. They had known we could not get far and had found our sampan and lain in wait for us.
“Within minutes we were on board the junk and face-to-face with our father, Ke Chungfen, and the swarthy, narrow-eyed flesh-peddler. He laughed when he saw us. ‘She has spirit,’ he said admiringly to our father, pinching Mayling’s little rump, testing her flesh before deciding how much she was worth. ‘On the other hand,’ he said consideringly, ‘she has no breasts yet, only buds. This, of course, will bring down her price.’
“Mayling and I were standing side by side and I glanced at her. Her head was bowed onto her chest and she was blushing with shame as he discussed the intimate details of her body.
“‘How much?’ Ke Chunfen demanded eagerly.
“‘The boy will make a good servant. I will give you three hundred yuan for both of them,’ the man announced, folding his arms and walking around and around, inspecting us like cattle in a pen.
“I looked into my father’s eyes and saw the greed for even more money.
“‘Take it or leave it,’ the peddler said, turning away indifferently.
“Ke Chunfen sighed deeply and I knew he was thinking of the forty yuan he had paid for our mother, and regretting how little return he was getting on his money after all these years of feeding us, but he finally accepted and a deal was