HPDBC Chapter 73 Nowhere to Go
Chapter 73 Nowhere to Go
After the storefront Ding Fugui rented in the county town was sealed off, he moved to a small hotel by the dock with the bruise on his forehead that had not yet faded.
The hotel was built in the early 1980s, and the white ceramic tiles on the exterior walls have long since turned yellow.
The motion-activated light in the stairwell has been broken for more than half a year and no one has fixed it. To get upstairs, you have to feel your way up the wall step by step.
He lived in the easternmost room on the second floor, with a window facing the dock. Every morning at 5:30, he could hear the ferry whistle, its mournful sound penetrating the glass and piercing straight into his ears.
He woke up to the sound of a ship's horn.
There was a musty smell in the room, the bedding was damp and sticky, and the pillow filling was hardened; pressing it with your hand would leave a dent.
On the windowsill sat the only thing he had managed to snatch from the storefront.
An old abacus, several beads were missing, and the frame was bound with wire. It was the first abacus he bought when he was a boatman in Baishakou. He had used it for many years, and the paint had worn off.
He picked up the abacus, flicked his fingers across the empty spaces a few times, and then put it back.
After his shop was shut down, he never did a proper business.
Last time, Old Zhou's brother-in-law came to the hotel to see him and said that a guy surnamed Ma from Hongjia Island was selling metal nameplate water pumps under the guise of a service station, and his business was booming.
After listening to the whole thing while sitting on the edge of the bed, Ding Fugui said that the man was not his apprentice, but just a half-baked one.
Old Zhou's brother-in-law asked him again if he wanted to set up a stall on Hongjia Island as well.
Ding Fugui slammed the enamel mug down on the windowsill and said that the service station was keeping a close eye on things, and his son was still in their hands.
After Old Zhou's brother-in-law left, Ding Fugui sat alone on the edge of the bed and smoked several cigarettes.
Ding Haifeng has been at the service station for almost three weeks. He has only come back twice during this time. Once was to pick up a change of clothes, and the other time was to deliver some plasters to his grandfather. He left right after delivering them without even having a sip of water.
he's changed.
When Ding Haifeng handed him the metal nameplate that day, he said, "The service station keeping me means they recognize me, not you."
The tone was as flat as if he were repeating an old document number from a register.
Ding Fugui has heard countless people curse him in his life, calling him a swindler, a profiteer, and a heartless man, and he has accepted it all.
But those words from his son stung him so much that he tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.
In the morning, he went to the entrance of the county's industrial and commercial bureau to inquire whether he could reapply for an individual business license with a different business scope.
The people at the local business registration office recognized him and said that his old license had been cancelled and that he needed to have a business premises and qualification certificates to apply for a new license.
Ding Fugui said he had a skill, but the people at the Industry and Commerce Bureau glanced at him and said that his file had a previous penalty record for the Baishakou boat rafts, and that he had to go through the credit repair process first to apply for a new repair license.
Ding Fugui squatted on the steps in front of the Industrial and Commercial Bureau for a long time. When he stood up, his legs were numb, and he had to hold onto the wall several times to stand up.
At noon, he ordered a bowl of plain noodles from a noodle stall by the dock. After the noodles were served, he took one bite and put it down. He then picked up the chili jar on the table and scooped out two large spoonfuls of chili, which made his eyes water from the spiciness.
Across from the pier is Moon Island, and you can see a large sign on the wall of the new workshop of the service station that reads "Designated Repair Point of Provincial Fisheries System". The red characters on the sign are shining brightly in the sun.
Ding Fugui stared at the sign for a long time, then slammed his chopsticks down on his bowl, stood up, and walked toward the ferry terminal.
He was going to Hongjia Island to find that man surnamed Ma.
The boat that the man surnamed Ma had illegally built on the mudflats of Hongjia Island was located on the rocky beach west of the old seafood wharf. Ding Fugui walked along the mudflats for almost half an hour after getting off the ferry before finding it.
It was a shed built from old sheet metal and scrap wood.
They hadn't even learned how to make the hulls of the Baishakou boats. Several abandoned water pumps were piled up at the entrance of the shed, their outer shells covered in white salt frost. Next to them was a wooden box filled with hammered iron nameplates.
The man surnamed Ma was squatting by the boat raft, dismantling the casing of an old water pump. He was sweating profusely and didn't even realize he was holding the wrench upside down.
Ding Fugui called out from outside the shed. The man surnamed Ma looked up and saw it was him, and was stunned for a moment.
Then he stood up, patted the rust off his hands, grinned, called out "Boss Ding," and eagerly pulled over a broken chair.
"Boss Ding, what brings you here? Are you still doing that intermediary business? My business is booming right now. You said last time that the name of that service station was effective, so I made a few nameplates based on it, and it really worked."
The fishermen believed it when they saw the words "Moon Island" on the sign, and since the price was a little cheaper than at the service station, they all came to save money.
Ding Fugui sat on the broken chair, looking at the old water pumps and scraps of sheet metal scattered all over the shed. He remained silent for a long time before finally speaking: "The nameplates are no longer usable."
The service station has now issued new nameplates, made of aluminum, with a signature field for the verifier. Every unit is registered at the factory.
"Your metal-plated thing won't fool the inspection team, and even some literate old fishermen are starting to get suspicious."
The man surnamed Ma threw the wrench on the ground and said, "What should we do? I just got a job refurbishing several water pumps, and the nameplates are already installed."
"Throw away all the finished pieces and learn a new skill."
I'll teach you the proper refurbishment process. From now on, don't use my name or the service station's name on the nameplate. Just put up your own "Hongjiadao Maji Repair Center" sign. Clearly state the origin of the old parts, the warranty period, and have the verifier sign their own name.
Once you've mastered the craft, fishermen will come even without a service station sign.
Ding Fugui's voice wasn't loud, but every word was as clear as if it were drawn from an abacus bead, one by one, perfectly distinct.
The man surnamed Ma squatted there for a long time without saying a word, looking at the metal nameplates all over the ground. Suddenly, he stood up and kicked over the wooden box containing the nameplates.
The tin nameplates were scattered all over the ground, and were blown by the sea breeze, tumbling several times on the rocky beach. Some pieces fell into the stone trough and floated slowly on the water.
Ding Fugui squatted down and picked up the few pieces of sheet metal nameplates scattered in the crevices of the rocks. He stacked them up and placed them at the entrance of the shed. He stood up, patted the rust dust off his trouser legs, and walked back along the mudflat.
He took a few steps and then turned back, saying that the new apprentice at the service station was his son, Ding Haifeng, who was now learning to write in the register in the old parts warehouse, and his handwriting was much neater than before.
The man surnamed Ma stood at the entrance of the shed, watching his back as he walked away, still clutching the wrench that had been installed backwards.
In the evening, Ding Fugui took the last ferry back to the county town, and a wind picked up on the sea.
He leaned against the ship's railing, watching the outline of Moon Island grow ever closer.
The sign on the wall of the new workshop is no longer legible, but the lights by the stone trough are still on, and the loquat leaves rustle in the wind.
He wasn't sure if he could get over this hurdle, but he was certain of one thing: he couldn't let his son look down on him anymore.
At night, Ding Haifeng worked overtime in the old parts warehouse to finish tracing the last page of the register.
He placed the pencil and ballpoint pen writing side by side on the worktable, stood up, walked to the warehouse door, and glanced towards the dock.
Ding Haisheng squatted in the welding area and finished welding the last electrode. He measured the weld seam three times with the weld inspection ruler and filled the data into the last page of the welder training record sheet.
She pushed the mask off her forehead, stood up, walked to his side, looked at the faint lights of the county town's dock on the opposite bank, and gently draped an old coat over his shoulders.
In the sea breeze, wisps of smoke still rose from the kitchen chimney, and the basin of tung oil ash was still covered with a damp cloth on the windowsill; the inspection team would arrive tomorrow.