Read Online Along the River by Adeline Yen Mah - Free Book Online

yells at his men to row harder. I hold my breath for fear of imminent disaster.
    Everyone in the teahouse has stopped eating. The diners converge on my window, pushing and shoving, leaning on me to get a better view. Gege tells them to go away, but they pay no attention. Meanwhile, a huge crowd has gathered along the riverbank to watch the drama. They scream at the captain and shout instructions to the bargemen.
    At the last moment, a spectator standing at the apex of the bridge suddenly throws a long coil of rope down to the barge. The sailors reach up with outstretched arms, grab the flying rope and hurriedly tie it to the stern of their ship. Meanwhile, the rest of the crew paddles furiously to turn the craft forward. I hold my breath as the barge lurches precariously, swinging violently from side to side until it finally rights itself. The mast is lowered—just in time—as the vessel slides safely under the bridge to the other side.
    Everyone in the teahouse gives a sigh of relief and returns to their seats. Proprietor Ma looks at the food on our table and tells us that it has turned cold. He insists on taking the four hot dishes down to be reheated in the kitchen. While we wait, we see Ah Zhao bounding up the stairs with a big smile on his face.
    “Did you see that barge, Old Master? It almost capsized!”
    “Were you hoping that it would, you rascal? What are you carrying?” Baba says, smiling.
    “Look what I’ve found!” He pushes our dishes to one side and places a bundle at the center of our table. He unfolds the square piece of cloth and lays out a dazzling assortment of curious objects: several molded-gourd cricket containers, each with a differently carved latticed top made of tortoiseshell, bamboo, horn or wood; a porcelain feeding tray; clay pots and fighting arenas; tweezers for grooming; a double bamboo cage, made for two crickets, with a single handle and a sliding divider in the middle; a dome-shaped, pocket-sized brass carrier covered by wire mesh; a sandalwood tube with a breathing cover and feeder at the bottom; and a tickler with fine hairs sprouting from a bamboo handle.
    “What sort of hair do they use to make these cricket ticklers? They’re so fine! Almost invisible.” Gege tilts his head back and inserts the tickler into his right nostril. He twirls the handle, screws up his face and gives a violent sneeze.
    “Ah-cheoow!” Gege exclaims. “Ready for a song or a fight, anyone? No? How about a little tickle up the nose and a good sneeze instead? By the way, you never answered me. What sort of hair is this?”
    “If you really want to know, these fine hairs are rats’ whiskers!”
    “Rats’ whiskers! Ah yah! Why didn’t you tell me before? How do I rinse out my nostril?”
    “Did you buy all this cricket paraphernalia, Ah Zhao?” Baba asks.
    “Of course not, Old Master! I thought you might like to see everything, that’s all. Aren’t they interesting? Whatever you don’t want, I’ll return.”
    “These gourds are beautiful,” Baba says, picking one up. “Especially this one. They’re all different, aren’t they?”
    “You can say that again. Some gourds have smaller turns, while others have larger turns than their bellies. The ones with long, slender necks are called goose-necks. The fat, round, shiny ones are called monk-heads. The one you have in your hand has a pointed bottom. It’s called a spider-bellied gourd.”
    “I really like this one,” Baba says, taking off the gourd’s latticed tortoiseshell top and peering into its interior. “It’s beautifully proportioned. Inside, it has a thick rind, which will maintain an even temperature for our cricket lodger.”
    “Old Master! You have excellent taste. That one’s my favorite too. Look at the glossy patina on its surface! According to the dealer, the patina is from years of being caressed by numerous previous owners. He says this gourd is an antique from the Tang Dynasty. It’s at least three hundred years