“‘Looks like’?” the man said with a chuckle. “It is. It’s just got a new lock, that’s all.”
Indeed, the lock was the only difference. At noon it had had two good-quality locks on it; now it just had a cheap wheel-lock. “This is no good,” said Dunhuang. “What if someone recognizes it?”
“Fuck, the country’s full of bikes exactly like this one,” said the suit. “Who’s going to recognize it? You’re worried? Okay then.” He took a little knife out of his pocket and started scratching at the bike, until there were paint chips all over the ground. “Better?”
Dunhuang hesitated. The suit said, “What the fuck is with you? It’s just a bike, I’d hate to watch you trying to find a wife. You’d end up getting dumped, anyway. If you don’t want it I’m junking it. That guy thought it would be safe with two locks on it. . ”
“I do want it,” said Dunhuang. “I’m just worried what will happen.”
“Fuck-all will happen! How’s this, I’ll give it to you for eighty, that’s twenty off. I’m a good guy, right?”
“All right, deal.” Dunhuang got on the bike, and it felt pretty damn good. He was a fucking bicycle owner. When the suit left he told Dunhuang to get another lock, a good one — this kind of bike was always getting stolen. He also gave him a business card, saying if any of his friends needed bikes, one call was all it took. The card read:
Mr. Zhang, General Manager, “Secondhand” Bicycle Store Phone Number: 133. .
Dunhuang thought the card was a collector’s item. The world was crazy, and this was the proof. He liked his secondhand mountain bike, just being on it made life taste sweeter. Dunhuang had ridden many bikes — Forevers, Phoenixes, Flying Pigeons, even the Shandong-made Great Golden Deer brand — but he’d never ridden one of these, a Giant. A fucking Giant mountain bike. He rode the bike to Zhichunli to deliver DVDs to the girl, feeling even more strongly that he ought to rescue her from her world of gore and horror. He even thought she should try some porn, at least she could learn something. What was the point of all the blood and the guts and the midnight rings?
The girl didn’t take his advice, but nevertheless something had changed. When she opened the door she wasn’t wearing some old pajamas like usual, she had dressed up a little bit, and her hair showed traces of a comb. “Have you ever ridden a Giant bicycle?” Dunhuang asked her. “They’re really fucking good. Don’t laugh, I just bought one today. All the way here I was thinking life is good. Try it if you don’t believe me, I’ll lend it to you. It’s secondhand, I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
At last, the “I hope that doesn’t bother you” got her to laugh. To be precise, it was half a laugh. When she discovered she was laughing, she cut the second half short.
“Thanks,” she said. “Goodbye.” She started closing the door.
Dunhuang called through the rapidly-closing crack, “Have you see The Bicycle Thief? It’s really good!”
When he came out of the building, the bike was gone. He clearly remembered leaving it there, stuck between two other bikes. The other bikes, both of them wrecks, were still there. He searched all around the building, but there was no sign of it. It had been stolen, that was it. Dunhuang thought immediately of the suit. He hunted up the number and called.
“Hello, do you have a friend who wants a bike too?”
“They all drive sedans,” said Dunhuang. “My bike’s been stolen!”
“You mean, you’d like to buy another?”
“Fuck you, my bike’s gone!”
“Call the police, then — what am I going to do about it?”
“Only you knew that bike!”
“Fuck you, shit for brains! If I only dealt in bikes I knew, I’d be out on the street!”
“So how was my bike stolen?”
“Ask the thief! Ask your lock!”The suit was getting mad, too. “You think they come with a lifetime guarantee, you asshole?”
Dunhuang said nothing. He’d forgotten to get a good lock for his Giant. He assumed the bike would be with him during the day, and locked up in his courtyard at night, so he hadn’t bothered yet.
“Who told you to pinch your pennies?” said the suit. “Never mind a thief, even a child could break off one of those wheel-locks. Serves you right! I have no sympathy at all! How about I get you another bike? How’s fifty percent off?”
“Fuck you!” said Dunhuang, and hung up the phone, heartbroken. The more he thought the madder he got, until he decided to hell with bicycles, people got around fine before bicycles were invented. I’ll run — let’s see them steal my legs.
The next time, he really did run to Zhichunli. He discovered it wasn’t actually much slower than the bike. He passed the south gate of Peking University, turned right at Pacific Computer City, crossed Zhongguancun Street and then the Zhongguancun Bridge, carried straight on past the north Fourth Ring Road, turned right onto Science Academy South, and went straight into Zhichunli. As he ran, his spirits rose — he ran right through three red lights, caused two cars to screech to a halt, and was stared at by many. It was rare to see a madman sprinting through bustling Zhongguancun. Once at Zhichunli, Dunhuang slowed his breath before pressing the doorbell. He passed Kill Bill and Banlieue 13 between the bars of the safety door.
The girl was wearing a skirt, and a flame-red shawl. “Thanks,” she said. “Have you got that bicycle one you mentioned last time?”
“The Bicycle Thief?”
She glanced down for a moment, then said, “That’s the one. The Bicycle Thief.”
“I’ve got no bicycle thief, I’m only the bicycle-thieved.”
“Is that good, too?”
“I’m joking. I was talking about myself. I’ve got the movie at home, I’ll bring it next time.”
“Your bike was stolen?”
“Yeah, outside your building, when I was here a couple days ago.”
“The Giant?”
“The Giant mountain bike.”
“How much was it? I’ll reimburse you for it.”
“Eighty.”
“Eighty? A Giant?” The girl finally really laughed, then picked up her wallet from a nearby table and pulled out five hundreds to give to him. “Liar! Giants aren’t that cheap. Whatever it really costs, I’m only giving you this, if it’s not enough that’s your problem.”
Dunhuang waved her off. “It really was eighty. Secondhand. Take your money back, it wasn’t you who stole it.”
The girl stuck her hand out through the door and flapped the cash. “You lost it because of me, of course I should pay. Take it.”
“It’s not your fault,” Dunhuang said. “I’m going, I’ll bring you that movie next time.” He went downstairs with the girl calling after him.
From then on, as long as the delivery was within three kilometers, Dunhuang did it running. When he was still in school he was a good long-distance runner. He hadn’t done it for years and was a little unused to it at first, but soon the feeling came back to him, and he got pleasure from the exercise. The next time he delivered DVDs to the girl, adding The Bicycle Thief into the bargain, he ran there again. She still wanted to give him money, or a new Giant if he wouldn’t take the money. Dunhuang said, “Absolutely not, I’m loving running, don’t burst my bubble. If I don’t exercise these 70 kilos will turn to flab.”
The girl’s eyes grew wide, and she said, “Whoa, you ran here?”
“Yeah. If the lights are green I can run nonstop.”
“Look at you bragging!” She looked better laughing than stone-faced, her teeth like jade. “If this movie’s no good you’re going to hear about it from me!”