The Harmony Silk Factory by Tash Aw

Author:Tash Aw
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.
Published: 2010-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

17th October (late afternoon)

STILL NO PROGRESS. Peter thinks something is very wrong. He says we are still being blown by the wind. He has been watching the waves all day and believes we are being swept away.

Mamoru still not speaking.

20th October (perhaps—I am not certain of the days)

HOW DID WE GET HERE? I can scarcely believe it. Nor do I recall exactly what happened. I do not know which came first, or which is stronger: the failure of my memory to record events accurately or the failure of my belief in what is true. All I know is that we are here and we are alive. I know, too, that we have no idea where here is.

We drifted all night, rocking gently on the waves that licked against the hull. Johnny lay in bed, sweating under a blanket. I went to him once, but he turned away from me.

I said to Peter, “Johnny is ill. He has a fever.”

Peter’s face was contorted in a deep frown. He had not stopped searching the darkness around us in the hope that some clue, some sliver of light, might suddenly appear. He looked at me and said, “I know.”

Mamoru sat quietly with his maps, examining them and making calculations. He had not cleaned his face or arms; the light from the lamp danced on his grease-streaked features, illuminating his troubled countenance (“He looks like a civet cat,” Peter said, attempting a joke). He remained this way for hours, isolated from everyone, including me. He looked so alone, so cast adrift and in need of comfort, yet I did not know what I could do. I did not dare approach him.

Honey had, with the help of the rest of the whisky, fallen asleep on deck. His body jerked violently now and then, and he mumbled loudly in a language neither Peter nor I could understand. When Peter laughed at this, it felt as though it was the first time anyone had laughed since we got on the boat, and I began to laugh too. We tried to suppress our laughter so as not to disturb Mamoru from what he was doing; the effort of doing this reduced us to tears. It was only when Peter stopped laughing that I realised I was still crying. I could not stop. Peter stood watching me awkwardly; I thought he was startled, even contemptuous of me. I suddenly felt ashamed and tired and disgusted with myself for this display but still I could not stop. Peter put his hand on my head, attempting to soothe me, but I drew away. I would stop crying and prove that I did not need his help.

“I’m sorry,” I said, but still the hot tears burnt my cheeks. I turned to go back to the cabin. “You just keep watching for lights, Peter.”

“I will,” he said, seeming to smile. “What I’d give to see a passing ship. Even a pirate boat, for heaven’s sake!”

I fell asleep with my eyes and throat feeling sore.

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