Paper Butterfly by Diane Wei Liang

Author:Diane Wei Liang
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2009-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

The room smelled of smoke from a coal stove. Gupin was sitting up in bed, propped against two pillows. His face was distorted by cuts, bruises, and large bandages. One of his hands was bandaged. A quilt covered his legs, but one was clearly bigger than the other. “Little Mountain shouldn’t have brought you here,” he said. He was smiling, but Mei could see he was ill. His eyes were dull, his face feverish.

“I wanted to come. How are you feeling?” She went to him and sat by his side on the edge of the bed. “Little Mountain told me all about it. A doctor friend of mine is coming to see you.”

She cast a glance around the room. It was simply furnished. A water jar stood by the door with a calabash, hollowed out for use as a ladle, balanced on its lid. A cabinet stood against the wall, rolled-up quilts and two cardboard boxes piled on top. A washing line hung across the room, cutting a triangle from the stove to Gupin’s bed. Two hand towels were drying on it. A pile of coal stood by the stove.

“The room is dirty,” said Gupin, panting.

Little Mountain interrupted: He was going out, he said, but would be back soon.

“Why do you live here?” Mei asked, puzzled. “I pay you well. You could have rented a room, if not an apartment, in the city.”

Gupin eyed the dirty window and a hole in the wall that had been filled with newspaper. “It’s cheap here. The more I save, the more I can send home to my mother. She’s paralyzed, so she’s always short on money. Every time the doctor comes, there’s another fee to pay. The herbs cost more and more. My brother said the doctor in the county town told him an imported drug is available now, highly effective, but expensive. Now that I work in the city, my sister-in-law wants to hire someone to look after Ma.” Gupin smiled. “This room may look bad to you, but I don’t mind. I come from a village a lot poorer than this. Besides, I spend most of my time in the office.”

He licked his lips. “Many migrant workers live here, families with children. Little Mountain and his wife are next door. They’re from the same area as me. Whenever one of us goes home, the other can send messages or a food parcel. We help each other.”

Little Mountain bustled in with a steaming bowl. He said something to Gupin in their dialect, then told Mei with a smile as he put the bowl on the windowsill to cool, “My wife made chicken soup. When will the doctor come?”

“He should be here soon.”

“I’ll fetch him from the bridge.”

“But you’ve never met him. How will you know him?”

“He’s coming in a taxi. I’ll ask.” He went out.

“It was all my fault. So stupid.” Gupin leaned back against the pillows and sighed. “I was too close to the cars. The roads were slippery, and snow was lashing down.

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