Short, Light, Free

Chapter 87: The Value of Art II

Without saying any bold, visionary words, I stuffed the pouch into my pocket, carried the bag Mom had prepared and walked out.

I knew they were looking at me from the door and I knew that if I looked back, I wouldn’t be able to leave.

I could feel the hot tears rolling down my face but that did not stop me from moving forward.

The village road connected straight to the county town, and I didn’t know how long I had walked for.

Because I was ignorant, I walked in the middle of the big road.

A massive cow-transporting vehicle honked his horn at me.

I jumped, startled. The driver stopped his truck beside me and shouted kindly, “Where are you going, little fellow? Need a lift?”

“I’m heading to town. It’s alright, I’ll walk slowly,” I declined.

“The nearest town is about 63 kilometers away. Where are you from? Why are you here?” he asked suspiciously.

I ignored his question, went over to the side of the road and continued on my way.

The driver drove next to me and honked his horn again. He stopped his lorry, opened the truck’s passenger door and gestured for me to get in.

After a moment of hesitation, I obliged.

It was my first time in a vehicle.

As if knowing that I was a bit naive, he extended his hand and shut the door for me.

He then proceeded to buckle me up, which startled me.

I struggled, attempting to break free, but the driver quickly explained that it was just for safety.

At that point, I was convinced that perhaps not every driver was bad.

On the way, he asked a lot of questions and I answered them one by one.

I learned quite a lot from our conversation.

“How much money do you have? Are you going to the city?”

After some thought, I carefully replied, “I have no money.”

“Then that’s going to be problematic. In order to survive in the city you’ll need at least 3,000 if you’re thrifty,” he shared.

“Why that much?” I asked, unable to comprehend that much amount of money.

“Let’s start with the food alone. Food is expensive, a bowl of noodles costs over 10 dollars and that won’t even fill your tummy. Plus, without money, you’re not going to be able to move about in the city. The most I can do for you is to send you to town,” he explained.

“How much will I need to get from the town to the city?” I asked.

“It depends on the city you’re planning to go. The best or just the average ones?”

“What about the best?” I asked immediately.

“The best city is Beijing and you’ll have to take an airplane to get there. That stuff’s even more expensive than a car. One trip will cost you over a thousand dollars. You don’t have that kind of money for sure, so that’s out of the question,” he answered.

I lowered my head, pondering over his words.

After a short pause, he sighed. “Don’t be upset. If Beijing’s where you wanna go, join me at my goods transportation factory. We specialize in slaughtering cows. If you’d be willing to work as a butcher for a few months, you’ll save enough money for Beijing.”

I nodded happily. “Yes, yes! I’m willing to work.”

Three hours later, we arrived at a small factory.

He had me wait outside while he went ahead to talk to some people inside.

A man in spectacles walked out and stared at me. “Name? Age?”

“Chalk, 23.”

“What a trendy name. Have you ever cooked at home? Do you know how to cut meat?” he pushed his glasses up, smiling.

“No, but I can learn.”

“Identification card?” he asked.

I took it out from my bag and he instantly snatched it over.

I moved to take it back, but he just smiled and said, “I’ll keep this for you. Three months of training, no salary but food and lodging provided. You’ll get 1,500 a month when you start working, but for the first five months, half of it will be taken away as part of your entrance fee. At the end of the fifth month, you would’ve gotten me 3,750 and only then will I return your card to you. Interested?”

“Why do I have to pay an entrance fee when I’m here to work?” I asked somewhat angrily.

He only returned my glare with a smile. “This is not the place for you if you can’t take hard work, but I don’t know if other places would be willing to accept you.”

The driver came over to my side. “This is the biggest slaughterhouse in town. Other places might not even offer you 500 a month. It’s worth it here.”

After some time, I asked the man in spectacles, “So at the end of the fifth month, you’d get yourself and me 3,750?”

“Yes, half for you and half for me, and you will get your card back. No tricks.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

The driver patted my shoulder. “I’ll be the witness. I’ve known Glasses for a few years now.”

I nodded again.

The bespectacled man waved and said, “Follow me.”

I followed him into the factory.

He whispered, “Since driver Dahai brought you in and I’ve taken your card and will be taking your money, I will take care of you. If you see anyone in the factory, tell them you’re my brother and they won’t make things difficult for you. Learn from me these three months.”

For the next two months, I slept on a sofa in Glasses’ bedroom and wore Glasses’ old uniform.

I had food to eat and water to drink, and I carefully observe Glasses as he slaughtered the cows.

He taught me every detail of it and after two months, I was finally allowed to handle one on my own.

He would give me a good scolding the moment I made a little mistake, but I endured it all.

I thought about how he treated me and decided to repay him double when I receive my identification card.

After a three-month apprenticeship, I finally understood, somewhat, how to dissect a whole cow.

I worked hard for another five months and I still had no bed of my own during this period.

I never saw my salary either and I was told that it was all in Glasses’ hands.

Also, I had no proper clothes and even had my own taken away by Glasses.

I figured he’d probably swallowed the money he saved from depriving me of new clothes and a bed.

In the month that I was about to claim my identification card and stop working, Glasses took a week off to visit his hometown and I was able to sleep on his bed.

It was a double-decker bed, and the habitually silent fatty, who slept on top, started talking.

It was only then that I realized that the man that I loathed so much was actually a good person.

This slaughterhouse only recruited old hands.

The three months that I worked as an apprentice provided no income for me because I wasn’t an employee at all.

Glasses paid for my food and trained me hard for three months.

Also, the slaughterhouse wasn’t short of qualified butchers so even after my apprenticeship, I was merely sharing a small part of Glasses’ burden.

He also shared that the oldest butcher will be retiring on the day I get my card back.

I then found out that in the five months that I had been working after my apprenticeship, Glasses had been sharing half of his pay with me.

And he had set the period to five months so that I could take over the oldest butcher’s position upon his retirement.

That was also the reason why I had no bed and clothes of my own yet.

While I had been under the impression that I was giving Glasses half of my pay, he was actually the one sharing his with me.

Even the group leader in the slaughterhouse was told by Glasses to keep it from me.

I wouldn’t have known at all, if not for Fatty’s big mouth and Glasses’ departure.

When Glasses returned a few days later, I rushed up to apologize.

I shared everything about myself to him, leaving no detail behind.

We talked for a whole night and he kept persuading me to take over the old butcher’s position, but I told him that my heart was set on Beijing.

He said, “The master is about to resign and you can take over from there. Getting paid 1,500 a month is really decent, why wouldn’t you take it?”

“I really want to go to Beijing. I want to do art. I’ve almost forgotten everything about art in my eight months here.”

The next morning, Glasses was nowhere to be found.

When he returned, he had a new set of handphone with him. He gave his old one to me.

He even bought me a new number and handed me the 3,750 along with my card.

He reminded me to give him a call upon reaching Beijing.

That day, I made a small figurine with the mud found outside the factory.

I then risked death by borrowing the kitchen kiln to dry it before giving it to Glasses.

“Who’s this?” He laughed.

“It’s you! Can’t you tell?”

He looked at it for a moment before adding, “I think Beijing just might be more suitable for you, Chalk.

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