Wake Me Up at 9:00 in the Morning by A Yi

Author:A Yi [Yi, A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786076663
Publisher: Oneworld Publications
Published: 2022-05-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

We messed around for ages. I had this niggling feeling that there was still something we hadn’t prepared properly, or that we hadn’t prepared anything properly. We became increasingly pissed off with ourselves as the days dragged by and we had nothing to show for it, until finally we made our move. The evenings rewarded people who’d worked themselves to exhaustion by day, but they were less kind to those who couldn’t make up their minds what they wanted. Finally, Hook-Pinch couldn’t bear it any more. She put on her high heels and tottered out of the room without a backward glance. I knew as I followed her that there was no going back.

‘You know we’ve only got a hundred yuan left?’ she said.

‘I know.’

‘If we don’t get to work soon, we’ll starve.’

‘Then let’s get to work.’

The street lamps were on by now, though it was still very warm. We sweated profusely as we walked along. The paving stones were laid in a zigzag pattern. If you didn’t step right in the middle of each one, dirty water splashed up from underneath. It had not rained for ages, so this water must have been the slops that townsfolk tipped out of their houses. I was walking five metres behind Hook-Pinch, watching as she eyed up various men, choosing her prey with care. She was making sure to display her charms. There was one man in a mustard-coloured shirt, hands stuck in his pockets, leaning against the wall, who stared as she went by. The street lights were dim, but I saw him devour her with his eyes. He looked idiotic. He obviously thought he’d hit the jackpot, and was imagining himself boasting to his mates afterwards. She slowed. His face lit up in a foolish smile. He must have decided she was going to ask the way, so he stood up straighter and tried to look like he was pleased to help out a young lady. She reached out with her left arm, the way you’d move an oar. In another moment, it would touch his arm or his belly. This was the bit we’d planned: ‘If it looks like a done deal, I’ll go straight for his prick and make it stiff,’ she’d said. At that instant, I caught up with her, put my arm around her and marched her away. She struggled furiously.

‘Let’s go,’ I said.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Please! Let’s go!’ I begged her. I had seen the name of a big local factory sewn on the left breast of his shirt.

The man sighed regretfully, looked as if he was about to say something, but then he appeared to think better of it and simply whistled. ‘I had him,’ she said in exasperation.

‘It just occurred to me that it’s got to be someone we’re sure is from out of town, right?’

‘Is there a difference?’

‘If he’s a local, we’re screwed.’

‘You’re such a scaredy-cat. If you’re so scared, let’s just forget it.’

‘We just need to be sure. Then nothing can go wrong.

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