Shanghai by David Rotenberg

Author:David Rotenberg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Canada

chapter eleven

The Revolutionary

Ru Chou, the hot-water store owner, checked in on his sleeping daughters, then made his way in the pre-dawn light down the stairs to the small courtyard in the back of his lilong that fronted on the alley. Six years ago he had converted the living room of his home into his now quite popular hot-water store and teashop. Earlier that morning he’d heard the rumble of the night-soil cart, and he was happy to see that his family’s “honeypot” had been not only emptied but also well scrubbed. He lifted the round, red-painted wooden bucket by its brass handles and placed it by the back door—far enough away from the kitchen, but close enough that the curtain hung there could be pulled to offer a person some privacy as they did their daily ablutions.

Before he put down the night-soil bucket he heard the song of the newspaper seller, followed shortly by the pleasant song of the flower seller. He bought a paper from one and purple winter irises from the other, which he placed in a vase on a small table beneath the circular wall mirror. Then he opened his store just as his usual first customer of the day—a poor labourer—approached his shop. It was another fine, cold day. Ru Chou’s business was progressing, and he was happy with the simple repetition of his daily rituals. It reassured him. It made him feel part of this great growing thing called Shanghai. He pocketed the poor man’s single coin, pulled off three sheets of toilet paper, and handed them over. The man tugged on each sheet to be sure that it was solid, then handed over a second coin. Ru Chou gave him two cigarettes. The poor labourer turned and headed toward the public outhouse. It had been thus with this man for several years, and with luck, Ru Chou thought, would be for many, many more.

The poor labourer was not the only one who used Ru Chou’s hot-water store for assistance in getting the day started.

Outside, in the alley, two barbers were setting up their stools. Because one was new to the sidewalk, Ru Chou assumed there would be trouble. Rich people fought over money and prestige and women; poor people fought over space. Barbers always had to be near hot-water stores to get the necessary heated water for shaving, so this scenario was not new to Ru Chou.

Ru Chou saw frost on the north-facing window, so he knew that it would be a busy day. He stoked the fire beneath the great cauldron with bean sprout stems and other wood refuse. He’d thought about using coal but had decided against it. Instead he had taken the money he saved and bought two fine tables. Now he had a brisk business in serving tea at those tables, made from the same hot water boiling away in the great cauldron, which would also be used for those interested in public bathing in the back.

He began to fill hot-water bottles.

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