Authors: Victoria Delderfield
“Of course, Manager.” I kissed his cheek.
“Be sure you ask her today. I want to see it looking tidier when we meet here tomorrow.”
I found Fei Fei in the canteen, fluttering her eyelids at Kwo and showing off the new denim jacket I bought her in town. Kwo, the dumb egg, succumbed and gave her an extra spoonful of bean sprouts.
A girl behind us in the lunch queue noticed and demanded the same.
“They’re only for certain workers,” said Kwo.
“What’s she done to deserve extra? She’s only a cleaner.”
“Excuse me!” Fei Fei spun round. “Who do you think tidies your work stations and keeps your conveyor belt running? Without me, this place would grind to a halt.”
“I doubt that,” said the girl, wearing green quality control overalls; her friends huddled around to gawp at Fei Fei’s pristine jacket.
“Don’t be so quick to look down on her,” I butted in. “She works hard to get ahead. Everyone has the same chance of being rewarded.” I nudged Fei Fei. “Isn’t that right?”
“Oh, yes … rewards,” she faltered.
“Was your jacket a reward too, Sichuan
mei
?” A girl stepped forwards from the huddle and touched Fei Fei’s sleeve. “I’ve been wanting one like this.”
“She got it last night,” I said.
“Last night?”
Fei Fei nodded. “I went to see the new ferris wheel.”
Her friends gasped in collective disbelief.
“They let you out?”
“How?”
“What was it like?”
“Did you ride the wheel?”
“Was it scary?”
“How high does it go?”
“What did you see?”
“Move it, girls,” shouted Kwo. “You’re slowing everybody down.”
Fei Fei pulled away, but the group followed, encircling us.
“The view from the top was breathtaking. I saw the whole city,” Fei Fei said.
“Even Forwood?”
She laughed.
“What did it look like?”
“Did you meet any guys?”
“Did you go to the funfair?”
“Oh, tell us, tell us everything,” said a worker who looked barely sixteen with heavy, bloodshot eyes.
Fei Fei beamed, pleased to be the centre of attention for once. “We saw it all: the twinkling lights spread out below, fireworks exploding along the river, young couples kissing as they waited their turn. The wheel looked five times bigger than the factory tower and wider than this canteen.” She gestured to the walls.
“Who did you go with?”
I slipped my arm through Fei Fei’s. “She went with me.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re the one on the posters.”
“We work hard, we get rewards. It’s simple.” I tugged Fei Fei’s arm, wanting her to back me up, but she stared at the floor.
“Well your jacket is pretty and I think a trip out to the ferris wheel is worth the hard work,” said a sturdy, square faced woman, probably a Guangdong
mei.
“I agree, we’re already knackered, we might as well get the benefits,” added a wiry girl. “Do you think the bosses in quality control would let us go?”
“Of course!” I said. “But you’ve got to work faster and speed up on the checks. No radio in the afternoon, no sweets on the line when the boss isn’t looking, no disappearing off to the sanitary room pretending you need the loo when really you want to try on your friend’s lipstick.”
They laughed.
“I’m serious. If you girls want to live happily and richly you’d better start by making a difference to your lives today. No more wasted time. You only have yourselves to blame if you can’t shine like stars.”
“She’s right.”
“I don’t want to be stuck here forever.”
“We should carve out our own worlds.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “Our time here is brief, it’s best to work our hardest while we are young and reap the rewards. Isn’t that right Fei Fei?”
She glanced up at the expectant faces. “I … I want to eat my lunch now.”
“But there’s so much more we want to know,” said the youngest girl with bloodshot eyes.
Fei Fei swayed slightly, a few beads of sweat had gathered at her temples.
“You heard her, girls, leave us alone now and go and sit with the others from your department.”
The girls wandered off, gossiping enthusiastically about the ferris wheel and how they would work hard for rewards. Apart from one dumb ox, who tutted and complained that her rice was stone cold.
I waited until they were out of earshot, then grabbed the sleeve of Fei Fei’s denim jacket. “We need to talk now,” I said, manoeuvring her sparrow-like frame towards a table in the corner, away from the rest.
“I’m sorry, Mai Ling, I don’t know why I didn’t praise you in front of them. I was only sharing in your reward.”
“Never mind that, what’s this about you stealing?”
“Stealing?”
“It’s against the rules. Don’t you know they’ll fire you?”
Her eyes widened, as if she might cry.
“But I’ve not taken a thing.”
“Don’t lie, you’ll only make things worse. Listen, I’m the star of Forwood, do you understand? A star can’t be friends with a thief. If you know what’s best, you’ll put back whatever it is you’ve stolen. If it happens again, we’re finished – no more trips into town, no treats. You’re on your own.”
She snivelled into the sleeve of her new jacket. “I understand.”
“Good. Because from now on I need you and this factory to be squeaky clean.”
That night, Ren wasn’t in the dorm. I threw back the covers and ventured into the familiar gloom of Forwood’s corridors, figuring she must be on overtime.
I could hear voices in the canteen. The women from personnel were eating late.
There was even more rubbish lying around outside their living quarters: food wrappers and plastic bags, cigarette butts, drinks cartons, even pairs of worn-out shoes. It was as if the lazy sheep had tipped up their rubbish bins.
Directly outside Bonding there were more obstacles: cardboard boxes stacked waist-high, some labelled
hazardous.
I tried pushing them aside, but they were too heavy. I climbed over, trying to fathom out why the entrance was blocked and by whom?
As I reached for the handle, I heard arguing coming from inside.
“… And another thing, she can’t save you if that’s what you’re thinking. She won’t last much longer and he’ll get rid of her, just like her rotten cousin.”
It was Xiaofan. What was she doing away from her dorm, arguing with Ren so late at night?
“What’s it to you?” said Ren, “You’re only jealous because he isn’t interested in you anymore. As for her saving me, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t need saving, I can look after myself.”
There was a sharp slap, a gasp from Ren, followed by silence. I stepped back from the door and crouched between the nearby boxes.
Ren was silent on the other side of the door. I imagined her face, slapped and humiliated. She had been faithful to me, after all. I waited until Xiaofan left, then crawled out and hurried back to the dorm, leaving Ren to finish her work.
For another hour or more, I lay awake listening to the sounds of the dorm. Fatty muttered to herself then tossed over. The girl by the window screamed intermittently in her sleep.
I grappled for the loose floorboard to find Ren’s notebook. A lot of it was boring: mainly slogans from around the factory, things like
Don’t eat excessive food, don’t talk excessive talk,
and
A little dirt is good for your system.
She had doodled squares that looked like prison bars. There was nothing in the notebook about me. I closed it, feeling disappointed.
Then I heard Mr Nie whispering from inside Ren’s tin box.
What is it? I asked, lifting him out.
Bad leg,
he said,
bad leg …
The patina of his little wooden face caught the half-light.
What about her bad leg?
Bad leg, bad leg
, he repeated.
But I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyelids open anymore, and Mr Nie’s warning faded into oblivion.
The next morning, Ren wasn’t in her bunk and I hurried to the line to find Xiaofan.
“What have you done to her? Was it you who blocked the corridors near the bonding room?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Get your hands off me,” said Xiaofan, pulling on her work gloves.
“I’m talking about Ren. I heard you arguing in bonding. Why did you slap her? She’s not in her bed. What have you done to my friend?”
“Friend!” laughed Xiaofan and leaned over the conveyor belt. “Nobody here believes you’re a star, 2204. They all know you and him are having some kind of pathetic fling. It won’t last and then you’ll be out on your ear just like your slutty cousin.”
I grabbed the pincer tool, forgetting the rules, and was about to jab her when suddenly there was a crashing noise at the far end of circuitry. Manager He had tripped on the stairs and fallen flat on his face.
“See how pitiful he is? You really think he’ll come running to help you when the Chief Executive finds out? You’re not a star; you can’t even do 60 boards an hour.”
“At least he still wants me. I’m not an old has-been. He said you were like a car that groans and moans and eventually packs in. Face it, Xiaofan, you’re history. You’ve lost your chance.”
The smirk fell from her superior face, and I rushed over to Manager He.
“Get off.” He pushed me away and scrambled to his feet as a bell rang out. It wasn’t the usual bell, it was louder, more persistent.
“Everybody, stop what you’re doing,” he cried.
“Manager – what is it? What’s the matter?”
The ringing made me push my fists over my ears.
“We’ve got to get out,” Manager He shouted.
I hurried back to my station to tidy away my tray. “Leave it, Mai Ling.”
“I don’t understand. What’s that bell?”
Fatty grabbed me by the hand. “It’s the fire alarm!”
I glanced over to see Xiaofan’s chair kicked over. She had run for the door.
“Don’t just stand there, Mai Ling,” shouted Manager He from the door. “Quickly! We must all get to the courtyard. Leave your equipment. Come at once. Come on, girls.”
Manager He flung open the door and immediately the acrid smell of burning plastic hit us. The corridor was full of smoke.
“Back,” cried Manager He, coughing, “you all have to go back.”
“We can’t stay here,” somebody wailed above the noise of the alarm. “It’s not safe.”
“Try the manager’s exit,” said another.
We retreated to the far exit, Fatty still clutching my overalls. She grabbed a couple of soft cloths, used for dusting the LCDs, and held one to her mouth. The other, she pushed into my hand. “Take it,” she said, her eyes wide.
Manager He fumbled for his keys to open the door.
I lurched towards him.
“Let him do it,” said Fatty. “Or we won’t get out.”
“Hurry up!” cried a worker.
A hand pushed me to the floor and I crawled after Fatty towards a rectangle of light, out into the cold bright daylight. Some workers were already huddled in the courtyard, outnumbered by the white blouses and grey skirts of personnel. Everyone stared up at the main building in gripped disbelief. Above us the sound of breaking glass attacked the air like gun fire. A loud explosion sent smoke spewing from an upstairs window. The upper part of the bonding room where Ren worked was completely ablaze. Flames gobbled up the air.
Another almighty crack and girls scrambled to their feet, screaming shrilly, “It’s going down!”
I looked up to see a blackened part of the upper wall tilting in the wind. It seemed to sway forever until it eventually succumbed to gravity and the whole wall collapsed in a gush of choking smoke that enveloped everyone, including me.
I rolled into a tight ball and closed my eyes, fearing it was my time to die. For a while all was black. But death never came and eventually I heard someone calling out for me.
“2204? 2204? 2204?” My number was getting louder.
“That’s me,” I croaked, my throat clogged with the taste of ash.
A personnel worker knelt over me with a clipboard. I turned my head to the side looking for Fatty. Instead, there were bloodied faces, some charred, others with gashes. The woman closest to me wailed indescribably. Two of her fingers were missing from the knuckle, lacerated to the bone by a large shard of glass still wedged in her hand.
A personnel worker clenched the woman’s blood-soaked hand. “The ambulances have arrived, the doctors are coming.”
“Where’s Fatty?” I asked, meekly.
“Can you confirm your department?”
I shook my head, which felt leaden. Then I felt myself being lifted up. At the head of the stretcher was a familiar face. My head fizzed, and there was Yifan and then there was nothing.
The fire was still out of control when I came to. I was surrounded by row upon row of women, their charred faces still and unmoving. The stench of the dyes used in bonding filled the air completely. Maybe I was close to Ren, after all. I rolled over onto my knees and tried to haul myself up, desperate to find her. But someone pushed me back to the ground.
A sketchy outline of a young woman towered over me.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” she said.
Xiaofan.
“Where’s Manager He … and Ren?” I mumbled.
“Forget them, 2204, half the factory’s burnt to the ground. Your sweetheart left you to perish. You’re all alone now – like the rest of us.”
Xiaofan’s shoe dug into my shoulder and I began to blubber. “It was you … You started it? You left Ren to burn!”
Xiaofan started to kick me and I fell back, with the overwhelming urge to sleep.
Later Fatty woke me saying she was sorry over and over, which was strange, because she’d done nothing wrong. It was all Xiaofan’s fault. She nudged something wooden and familiar into my hands, Mr and Mrs Nie.
“We can’t find her,” said Fatty, whispering a name. “We can’t find Ren anywhere.”
She cradled me, sobbing.
It took three days for the last embers to be put out on account of an exceptionally blustery north wind which had destroyed large sections of the factory. Electronic circuitry was one of the few areas relatively unscathed. Manager He’s bureau was covered in fine black ash, but still standing.