“Have got to ask if I see another man,” Chen Jing thought as she glanced into the dim street lights in the alley. A sigh arose deep inside her: “Ah, this darned bicycle!”
From behind came a bicycle bell ringing. Before an “Ah” escaped her lips the young man on the bicycle had already flitted past her.
What! The young man returned. Chen Jing was seized with fear. “It’s so late and he. . . .”
“Did you just call me?” the young man was already off the bicycle.
“Oh . . . no.” Her sense of self-preservation kicked in and she was at loss for words.
“Your bicycle broke down?” A pair of eyes, half laughing, gazed at her.
Chen Jing tried to compose herself. “The chain has got stuck in the shield,” she mumbled, her head low, a ray of hope glimmering in her heart.
“Then, Miss, I won’t be able to help. Without tools nobody can take off the chain shield.”
Chen Jing’s heart was filled with darkness again.
“Is your home far from here?”
“My home?” She was at a loss again and began to push her bicycle forward.
“All right, on the left of this alley’s entrance there’s a bicycle shop. Someone may still be there. Why don’t you go and try there!” With that the young man flew away on his bicycle.
“Thanks but no thanks!” Chen Jing almost cried. It was already 11 o’clock in the evening. What bicycle shop would still be open! “Liar!” she cussed in her heart. “May you have a bad dream tonight.”
When she came out of the alley, though, she couldn’t help glancing toward the left side. The light in a small house along the sidewalk was still on.
She was still hesitating when a young woman in her twenties stepped out and hollered: “Hey, Miss, come on in!”
Why, it was a bicycle shop all right! Chen Jing felt the world around her suddenly brightening up; all her fear and frustration was gone.
It was a simple, barrel-straight house facing the street. The door to the interior room was closed. The outer room had only a desk, a bed, and a bicycle. A young man was bent over the desk turning over the pages of something.
“Come on in,” the young man said, standing up, a screwdriver in hand. “This place is a bit small.”
“It’s you?” Chen Jing was taken aback.
“It’s me,” the young man smiled. “Told you the shop would still be open, didn’t I?” He winked knowingly.
“My brother went escorting my sis-in-law to work. Upon coming back, he woke me up as if the house were on fire. It turned out. . . . ” The young woman in her twenties followed behind, chattering.
“That’s why we need privately-owned shops,” Chen Jing thought. She smiled at the young woman gratefully: “Sorry to have bothered you.”
“Oh, don’t mention it. My brother was worried that you wouldn’t dare to come in, so he woke me up to holler to you. Really, you’re a bit too timid. I wouldn’t have been afraid at all.”
Chen Jing turned red with embarrassment.
Soon the bicycle was fixed by capable hands.
“How much?” Chen Jing was hoping that the young man would charge her a bit more than his usual fee.
“How much?” the young man looked surprised. He smiled the next instant: “Five yuan will do.” A big hand, covered with grease, reached over to Chen Jing.
“Five yuan?! That’s plain robbery!” Shocked as she was, Chen Jing took out her purse.
“Brother!” the young woman broke in. “You’re in the mood to joke at this late hour!” She slapped the greasy hand away and turned to Chen Jing:
“Miss, don’t you mind him. He likes to joke regardless of time and place. We are not a bicycle shop, so how can we take your money for a simple thing like that?”
Her face flushed.
“Okay, no more jokes!” Her brother stood there, wringing his hands, and grinned happily. His teeth looked white and clean.
Once on her way again, Chen Jing felt a gentle breeze breathing into her face and her long hair, ticklish, yet pleasant. The street lights felt brighter tonight; they were shining brilliantly. The air had a hint of intoxicating fragrance in it, too.
Oh, spring night!
(1982)