Candy Read Online Free Page B

make a little commission for himself that way, but instead somebody snatched the cash from him, and he tried to chase the person down, but he couldn’t catch him, and he ended up with a sprained foot. My dad told me never ever to tell anyone about this, because he’d slipped out during working hours to change the money, and that wouldn’t look good to people. It makes me sad, what happened to him. I don’t know whether I really like money or not. My dad’s an intellectual; he’s weak. I’ll have to start now if I’m going to make any kind of money.
    I had the feeling that this guy, who called himself Saining, was kind of interested in me. His clothing made him stand out, and each of the colors in his rainbow-hued pants made me feel happy. From his rambling monologue I learned that he played guitar, that playing guitar was all he wanted to do, and that he was looking for one or maybe a whole bunch of bars with stages.
    Awestruck, I asked, Where in China are there places like that?
    He said he didn’t know yet, but he was definitely going to find out.
    These words emboldened me—to me a bar with a stage represented the road to freedom. I looked at him, adoring his black eyes, innocent, heartbreakingly innocent eyes, large and liquid. Hey, I said, you know what? I’m a singer, and I’m not bad!
    And he answered, Do you want to come over to my place?
    This was the first time a man had propositioned me, and heaven knows why I agreed on the spot. My expectations were vague and poetic, and dark undercurrents overtook my fantasy.
    He said, I like girls from broken homes who are crazy about chocolate and who love the rain. I’ve been waiting for a girl like that for a long time.
    I said, My God! A chocoholic who loves rainy days—that’s me!
    3.
    He’d fucked me into a state of numbness. I was off to a bad start with men. But as I saw it, everything that happened was just one more event among many, even the pain that pierced through my very heart, and those burning wounds. None of it was so different from any of the other things that would inevitably happen.
    I went back to Shanghai. I listened to Cui Jian every day and lived on a diet of chocolate and Baby-Doll ice cream. Each week I made the rounds of the student dormitories at every university in town, peddling cloth dolls made by old people in the neighborhood production teams. I didn’t have any friends. The first supermarkets had opened up, and although I didn’t have any money, I could ease my loneliness by wandering the aisles. It made my life a little more interesting.
    After a month or so, I’d set aside enough money to go back south.
    When I caught up with Saining again, he was asleep. He came to the door in gray hooded pajamas. His lips looked very dry, and I found his aloof expression very beautiful. I believed that I had a real connection with this kind of beauty, and so I thought he was beautiful.
    I’m back, I said. I’ve been looking for you.
    He made himself a cup of instant coffee. In those days hardly anyone drank coffee, and drinking coffee was very hip and poetic. He said, Don’t take it personally, but I never talk much when I first get out of bed. I said, I’m not sure what kind of relationship we had, or maybe I just forgot, so I came over.
    Without raising his head or looking at me, he said, You’ve cut your hair. Only a little bit, I said. Your hair used to be longer than mine, he said. Now our hair is about the same length. I said, I’m hungry; can I have something to eat? Sure, he said. I’ll make you some fried rice, how about that? I make really good fried rice.
    He fried up some rice for me, with lots of different things in it, even apples. He insisted on feeding it to me himself, and looking at his eyes so close up, his soft eyelashes moving up and down, all of a sudden I felt my body get moist, and I wanted to touch his eyes, but I didn’t dare. He knew I was looking at him, but he didn’t look at me. He was feeding me more