The Noodle Maker(61)
My roof terrace is huge. When you stand by the edge, you can see the whole town spread out below. The survivor could spy on every home in every street. In over two years, he never once left the roof: that’s to say, he lived his entire life in mid-air. He kept his distance from the rest of humanity and refused to enter their world. While three thousand dogs perished at the hands of the town’s extermination brigade, he was able to survive two years up there, thanks to me and the distance he kept from the crowds. He often saw his fellow dogs being chased and battered by the authorities, and it upset him. But I must admit that on seven occasions I was tempted to hand him over to the police, as I knew this might improve my chances of being awarded Party membership. By looking after him, I sometimes felt I was bringing disgrace upon the Party. He often spouted reactionary ideas that would later trouble my mind during the political study classes at work.
He matured a great deal during his two years with me, and learned a few elegant turns of phrase. He developed a deep insight into all things that had happened and had not yet happened. His shiny black coat and droopy ears gave him the look of a foreign lawyer. His unusual bald head and long grey whiskers added to this air of a wise elder. He secretly saw himself as a holy messenger and prophet. He was optimistic about China’s implementation of the Open Door Policy, and agreed with the authorities that exhibitions of nude paintings weren’t in tune with the social climate of our country. When the Central Committee announced that they’d given a Chinese woman their personal consent to marry a French citizen, he praised their courage. He argued that the Responsibility System could save socialism, and applauded the government’s moves to encourage foreign companies to invest in our country. I asked him whether this policy would be tantamount to allowing foreign capitalists to take over the Chinese economy, but he just laughed at me coldly. I admit I grew very fond of him. Every day I brought back delicious things for him to eat and drink. I lost hours of sleep, worrying that one day the police would find him and take him away. My attachment to him was so deep that I managed to sit through my girlfriend’s suicide performance without shedding a tear.
Our conversations were fascinating. He told me stories from the Greek legends and fables from the Bible. His topics ranged from the ancient world to the modern, from China to the West. His imagination was boundless. It was a pleasure to spend my evenings with him. A few days before we witnessed the gang rape that took place on the streets below us, I asked him what changes dogs would make if they were placed in control of this town. He said: ‘First and foremost, we would eliminate the dog extermination brigade. Dogs are not to blame for rabies – we are just the innocent carriers of the virus. The dogs of this town would be granted the same privileges that dogs in foreign countries enjoy: they would be issued with dog collars made of real leather, and warm woollen dog coats. We would encourage humans to follow our example and restrict themselves to mating seasons, so as to improve the quality of their species. We would protect your borders, allow you freedom to travel, and freedom to set up opposition parties.’
His drooping ears flapped contentedly, and he continued: ‘Our dog government will send your politicians and generals to the countryside to produce high quality meat for us. Their salaries and status will be second only to ours. If I were the mayor of this town, I’d ban all political meetings and study sessions, and I’d urge people to walk on all fours, as modestly and unassumingly as us. I would also scrap the practice of blasting exercise music through the town every morning, so that people could have a lie-in if they wanted to.’
‘And what will our duties be in the new society?’
‘To serve the dogs,’ he said. ‘You will simply have to change your motto from “Serve the People” to “Serve the Dogs”. Your main responsibility will be to provide us with food and drink. As long as you don’t start wasting your time with useless political meetings, we will cause you no harm. Remember – a dog is a man’s best friend, and a man is a dog’s best partner.’
A few days later, as we looked down on the girl being raped in the streets below, the dog went back to this conversation and said, ‘But there’s one thing we’ll insist on when we come to power: we will ban all cars, trucks and bicycles from the town, to ensure that dogs are free to cross the roads when they wish.’
That day, the traffic in the streets below was blocked solid. At the intersection, a group of young men had pinned a girl to the ground and were raping her again and again. They had ripped all the clothes from her body and flung them in the air.