stjorthotic Chapter 72 News from Hongjia Island
Chapter 72 News from Hongjia Island
Before dawn, a thin layer of mist floated on the sea east of Moon Island, hazy and indistinct, blurring the outline of Hongjia Island on the opposite shore into a faint shadow.
The seawater in the stone trough rose to half-tide, lapping against the hull of the ship with a dull, resonant sound that traveled from the shed all the way to the workshop entrance.
The service station courtyard was still quiet, with dewdrops clinging to the loquat tree leaves.
The water that Ah Guang watered last night was still accumulating in the center of the leaves. As soon as the morning breeze passed, it rolled down and hit the broken seashells around the edge, making a soft rustling sound.
Lao Fang was the first to arrive.
He wiped the three wooden signs one by one, swept the yard clean, and squatted at the workshop entrance to strike a match.
The wind was blowing in from the seawall. The first cigarette didn't light, but the second one did. He quickly cupped his hand around the flame to light it and took a deep drag.
The crack on my finger, which had been soaked in diesel fuel for most of my life, stopped bleeding this morning and formed a dark red scab, the same color as the calluses on my palm.
He tossed the matchstick into the stone trough, stood up, and patted the dust off his trousers.
The light was on in the kitchen, and Lin Xiu'e had already started the fire.
The flames in the stove licked the bottom of the pot, and the water inside was bubbling and steaming.
She rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, a few specks of dry flour clinging to her forearms. She tossed the dough back and forth on the work surface, pushing it out with her palms and pulling it back with her knuckles until it was smooth. Then she pinched off small pieces, each one the same size, and arranged them on the drying rack like a neat row of snail shells.
The red beans were soaked last night and were fully saturated with water. They crumbled easily when pinched between your fingers, and the powdery red bean paste dripped through your fingers.
Steam fogged the kitchen window, and she wiped the glass and peeked out through the crack.
The stone trough was empty; Qiu Changhai hadn't arrived yet, and a thin layer of frost had settled on the stone pier.
She placed the first basket of red bean buns on the steamer, covered it, and wiped her hands with her apron.
Jiang Haiping carried a jar of boiling water out of the dormitory, squatted down at the workshop entrance, placed the jar at his feet, and took out a copy of the special inspection notice from his pocket.
He had read the notice several times, and the creases were worn and rough. He pressed the corners flat with his fingertips and read it over again from beginning to end.
The inspection team's itinerary, scoring criteria, and materials list were all checked off with a pencil.
Samples of the new nameplates have already been ordered, but the people on Hongjia Island who are making metal nameplates haven't stopped.
Fishermen at the dock kept mentioning that the refurbished water pumps on Hongjia Island were becoming increasingly common. Some of them didn't even use sheet metal for the nameplates; they just painted a few crooked words on the pump casing and called it a day.
Jiang Haiping instructed A Guang to write down these messages one by one on the back of the register's title page.
With each new entry added to the register, his pen tip would leave an indentation on the paper.
In the morning, Hong Chuandong took a ferry from Hongjia Island.
He wasn't there to repair the boat. As soon as the ferry docked, he went straight to the service station. He had no fishing gear in his hands, only something wrapped in old newspapers.
He found Jiang Haiping and Lao Fang at the workshop entrance, and opened the newspaper package on the worktable.
Inside was an old water pump, with most of the paint peeling off the outer casing, revealing a rusty iron shell underneath.
A metal nameplate was affixed to the side of the pump casing, with the words "Moon Island Refurbishment" crookedly typed on it. The warranty expiration date and the verifier's signature field were both blank.
Old Fang picked up the water pump and took a closer look.
The edges of the sheet metal nameplate still have burrs left from cutting the sheet metal; you can easily cut an opening with a finger.
The strokes typed using the steel type were uneven in depth, and several characters were typed off-center, overlapping the previous stroke and becoming a blurry mess. "Who is this person? What's their name?"
"His surname is Ma, and he is a local from Hongjia Island. He learned the craft for a few months from Ding Fugui when Ding Fugui was setting up boat rafts in Baishakou."
Later, Ding Fugui's raft was confiscated, so he returned to Hongjia Island and illegally built a raft on the mudflats, specializing in collecting scrapped water pumps, refurbishing them, and then selling them with metal nameplates removed.
Hong, the boat owner, squatted by the worktable, pointing to the crooked words on the nameplate. "This guy is telling all the fishermen that the service station has outsourced the refurbishment business to him. From now on, all the refurbished water pumps for Moon Island will be shipped from his side."
In the past few days, he has brought several fishermen over there, and they all blocked people at the dock, saying that the service station had too long a queue and that he wanted to exchange their services and leave on the same day.
Some fishermen became suspicious and came to ask me about the water pumps. I told them that the service station always refurbishes water pumps with aluminum nameplates, not these sheet metal ones.
They didn't believe me and insisted that I confront them.
Ding Haifeng was registering newly arrived used water pump impellers in the used parts warehouse when he heard Hong Chuandong's voice in the workshop, and the wrench in his hand stopped in mid-air.
He stood up and glanced towards the workshop, then squatted down again to continue tracing the records. He pressed the pen down hard, leaving a deep dent on the paper.
Hong Xiaobing squatted down next to him, cleaning the old gaskets that had been removed. He listened to Hong Chuandong's words from beginning to end, wiped his face with cotton gauze, stood up and walked into the workshop.
"Uncle Ma used to repair boats with my dad in Baishakou. He wasn't my dad's formal apprentice; he just worked with him for a few months and learned the basics."
"My dad taught him how to hammer the metal nameplate during those few months."
Hong Xiaobing stood by the worktable, glanced at the metal nameplate, and said, "He only knows how to disassemble and assemble water pumps, not how to assemble them. He doesn't even know to apply oil to the gaskets."
Once, the cylinder head bolts on a diesel engine were installed backwards, and Master Fang noticed it immediately.
Old Fang took the cigarette out of his mouth and glanced at Hong Xiaobing. "When did this happen?"
"It's been many years. Back in Baishakou. That day, Master Fang came to the island to ask some old fishermen for a favor."
Passing by the shipyard, I saw him assembling a machine. Master Fang asked him to reassemble it, but he said he had done it correctly. Master Fang took a wrench and measured the torque of the cylinder head bolts, and found that they were all reversed.
Later, he told everyone he met that Master Fang was making things difficult for him, that his skills were lacking, and that he wouldn't let anyone criticize him. After saying this, Hong Xiaobing took the register out of the old parts warehouse, flipped to the pages handwritten by Ding Haifeng, and placed them on the worktable. "This guy is a half-baked idiot. He didn't learn the skills properly, but he's got quite the nerve."
Ding Fugui's skills were lacking, and the men he led were even worse. But the fishermen couldn't tell the difference; they believed them because the signs they wore had the service station's name on them.
Jiang Haiping picked up the metal nameplate, held it up to the light, flipped it over to look at the back, and then put it back on the worktable. "Now we have the evidence. The metal nameplate, the scrapped water pump, and Hong, the shipowner, as an eyewitness."
When Wang Cunzhi returns, have him deliver these things to Director Sun.
Hong, the boat owner, said he would go back to Hongjia Island first and keep an eye on that platoon leader surnamed Ma to see if he was still recruiting fishermen. He would call back if there was any news.
In the afternoon, Jiang Haiping asked Ahai to make a trip to the county to bring the metal nameplate and the scrapped water pump that Hong Chuandong had brought to Wang Cunzhi.
Ahai put the water pump into his canvas bag, got on his bike, and rode off along the seawall.
Lin Xiu'e brought out the steamed red bean buns and placed them on the stone stool at the entrance of the workshop.
Old Fang took one, took a bite, and said that this red bean paste was even finer than last time.
Lin Xiu'e said that the soaking time was long, several hours.
Qiu Changhai took a red bean bun, took a bite, and didn't say whether it was good or not, but after finishing it, he took another one.
In the evening, Hong Xiaobing closed the windows of the old parts warehouse and tucked them in tightly with plastic sheeting.
Ding Haifeng closed the registration book, locked the drawer, and then took out the piece of paper that had been folded several times from his pocket.
The above is a registration form drawn in pencil; the first few pages were drawn when I first arrived at the service station.
The most recent column has been filled with the number of the new nameplate sample, which is crooked and uneven.
He folded the paper, put it back in his pocket, stood up, and walked to the warehouse door.
The two walnuts on the stone pier were gently touched in Qiu Changhai's palm. The fishy smell of dried fish mixed with the sea breeze wafted from under the eaves of the kitchen.
Hong Xiaobing glanced at his profile but didn't say anything.
Old Fang stubbed out the remaining half of his cigarette on the sole of his shoe.
Stepping out of the cabin and standing at the workshop entrance, I watched as Ah Hai's bicycle taillights grew smaller and smaller at the end of the seawall, slowly merging into the night.
"Let them investigate. If they find out, anyone who counterfeits a service station's sign will be shown this metal plate."
As the night breeze blew in, Lin Xiu'e ladled out the last pot of fish ball soup and placed it on the stove to keep it warm.
The steam completely covered the windows, leaving only a few basins of tung oil putty covered with damp cloths on the stove.
Ahai rode along the seawall towards the county, the old water pump in his canvas bag slamming heavily against the back seat.
The waves lapped against the stone trough, and the lights were on in the service station courtyard.
Several more government vessels are scheduled for maintenance tomorrow, while the people on Hongjia Island who are putting up metal nameplates are unaware that they've been targeted.