Lagramyncki ôbsztalunek / Terms of Commerce (cz. 3)

Niy ma sie co dziwować, co fertryjter Kabuga ETS chciōł sfinalizować kōntakt ôsobiście. Tukej żodyn niy śmiōł sie chachnōńć. Dyrechtōr posłōł Boqina, coby dōł pozōr, eli jejich werk, fabryka Kozio Gōra, poradzi to szafnōńć. Zaczym Boqin hań pojechōł, Ng pedziōł mu wiyncyj ô jego byzuchu. Nale pojakymuś na formulorzu delegacyje Boqin zoboczył inksze miano: Cyntrum Reformy bez Robota „Staro Gōra”. Niy take miano werku podōł mu Ng. Spytōł sie go ô to, nale Ng ino poklepōł go po puklu i pedzioł:

– Dyć to je te same miasto, zouwizou bydziesz jechōł do Jingmen. Nic sie niy starej.

Boqin nigdy by niy pedziōł, co Dyrechtōr poradzi być taki fajny chop. Przi Wojsku Ludowym kożdy musiōł być usuchliwy. A dyć Boqin robiył terozki ino za ańfachowego wojoka we Ôriyntalnyj Kōmpaniji Maszinowyj. Po cichu ukłōniył sie, coby Dyrechtōr wiedziōł, że spokopiył. Ng sie uśmychnōł i spytōł sie go galantnie:

– A jak tam Bo?

– Zdrowo, dobrze sie nōm chowie. Dziynkuja, żeście sie spytali, Kamracie Ôficyr Dyrechtōr.

– A wasza baba?

– Tyż.

– Dobre. Jak bydziecie w tym Jingmen, to dejcie pozōr, cobyście godali ino z panym Chen, kery dowo pozōr na cōłke te cyntrum. Z żodnym inkszym niy śmiycie godać, ja? Poradzicie to spokopić?

– Toć, Kamracie Ôficyr Dyrechtōr.

– Dzisiej rano żech ś nim godōł bez telefōn. Pōn Chen bydōm na wos czekać. Chcecie sie mie ô co spytać?

– Niy, Kamracie Ôficyr Dyrechtōr.

– Dobre. Aha, i niy przepōmnijcie, co należy sie wōm tyż trocha szpasu. Pōn Chen pedzieli mi tyż, co majōm hań pora restojrantōw z karaoke, jednako fajnych choby te we stolicy.

Ng ciepnōł mu ôko i sztuchnōł rubo koperta ku Boqinowi. Kapki potu pokozały sie na jego glacy. Słyszōł już przōdzij ô tych nowych zwykach, nale sōm jeszcze niy miōł takij sytuacje.

Wtynczos ô furganiu niy było jeszcze godki. Cug rajzowōł pōmału i zowdy było moc norodu, trzeba było rachować ze dwa dni, zaczym dojechōł do Jingmen. Z piyniōndzōw na „kamracyniy sie” Boqin wyszkrobōł trocha do baniorzy, coby dali mu ekstra kupyj do nynanio i ańfachowe śniodaniy. Bez te tysiōnc dwiesta kilōmyjtrōw Boqin wyspōł sie za wszyske czasy. W dōma Bo prawie napoczły rosnōńć zymby, beztōż kereś ś nich zowdy musiało być mōnter, coby uholkać bajtla. W cugu Boqin tyż sie pojod, niy musiōł dować pozōr, eli go na coś stykać, abo niy. „To je dziepiyro życie” – myślōł sie Boqin, kurził i żuchlōł ziarna ôd banie. Co chwila wypluwōł je i coroz to wiyncyj miōł ich już leżeć na zolu podle swojigo lyża. Skirz klangu kōłek zaś brało go na spaniy.

Wele połednio przijechōł do Jingmen. Pozorny, wyzgerny i mōnter, fertiś na robiyniy gyszeftōw. Na banhofie lajstnōł sie nudelzupa i dowiedziōł sie, kaj je tak po prowdzie te cōłke Cyntrum. Pedzieli mu, co bydzie musiōł drałować trzidziści minut, aże przidzie do industrialnyj tajle miasta. Ludzie, kerych sie pytōł, kukali na Boqina maszketnie, choby to było gańba pytać sie ô take rzeczy. „Boroki z połednio ciyngym majōm te burżuazyjne uprzedzynia. To na zicher bydzie skuli ôkupacyje Japōńcōw” – pōmyślōł sie Boqin.

Na wiyrchu rozlajerowanego ajnfarta, wielgigo na ôziym i pōł myjtra, pociepane były sztacheldrōty. Ćmawozmaraszōny ajnfart, niy roz lakowany, wydowōł sie trocha wiyncyj światły skirz epnyj czerwōnyj fany, na keryj stoło srogimi biołymi buchsztabami: „Czas to piyniōndz, wydajność to życie”. Żodnyj inkszyj informacyje, ani choby miana tego cyntrum, niy szło znojś podle ajnfarta. Na betōnowyj ścianie bez ôkyn jeszcze trzi swiniynte sztacheldrōty, jedyn na wiyrchu drugich. Stoło to pierōństwo, jak godo zakōn, dwiesta piyńćdziesiōnt myjtrōw fōrt ôd nojbliższych chałpōw. Miyndzy cyntrum a resztōm miasta była srogo ciaplyta, nafolowano roztōmajtymi abfalami. Roz za kej, jakoś mało gmeć trowy, żōłtyj skuli chymikalijōw, zetrwale rosła w tyj ziymi niczyjij. Cesta ku ajnfartowi była fest ciynko, wiynksze auto ciynżko miałoby sie hań wciś.

– Co je louz? – zaryczōł ôroz ftoś na wiyrchu. Boqin wejrzōł ku wacht-turmowi i usłyszōł klang ôdbezpiyczanyj gywery. Wiedziōł, co wachtyrz terozki trzimie palec na cynglu, taki bōł zakōn. Dyć ôn tyż bōł przi wojsku. Cōłko godka napoczła sie robić trocha szpicato.

– Jo je Li z Ôriyntalnyj Kōmpanije Maszinowyj, ze stolice – ôdpedziōł Boqin.

– Ôstōńcie, kaj żeście sōm. – Wachtyrz ciyngym cylowōł ku niymu. „Podryncznik wachtyrzy, kere wachujōm strategicznych budowli” padōł klar: wachtyrzy mo być dwōch, coby szkyrtli do biyra dyrechtora, eli mogōm puścić kogo rajn. Żodyn gizd niy śmiy sam wlyź. Smykać sie podle takigo cyntrum tyż żodyn niy śmiōł. Kej jejich hajmat trocha sie ôdymknōł na świat, coroz to wiyncyj sjechało sam szpiegōw i wrogōw klasowych. Przywōdca mieli recht: „Nojważniyjszo je stabilność”. Coby kraj stabilnie szōł po socjalistycznyj ceście postympu ku kōmunizmowi, a ôbywatelōm sie darziło, trza było utrzimać dyktatura robotnikōw i przewodnio rola partyje, za wszelko cyna. Ino tak szło zônaczyć socjalistyczno gospodarka rynkowo ze chińskimi cechami, dziynki keryj kożdymu bydzie sie darzić, tak jak to pedzieli piyrwyj Marx i Mao.

(z angielskygo na ślōnski przełożōł Marcin Melon)

Quite reasonably, a Kabuga representative wanted to finalize the large contract in person. There was no margin for error. The director sent Boqin to make sure that their production facility, Mountain Goat Plant, was up to this job. Before Boqin left, Ng instructed him about the visit. But on the travel form Boqin noticed that the specified destination bore a different name, the Old Mountain Family Reform Through Labor Center. Not the one Ng had told him about. When asked about this discrepancy, Ng just patted Boqin on the shoulder, and added:

‘The same place, the same city. You go to Jingmen. No worries.’

Boqin had never suspected this degree of bonhomie from the director. The People’s Army was about orders and obedience. Boqin was a mere soldier of commerce in the Oriental Machinery Company. He silently bowed to show that he understood. Ng smiled and inquired politely:

‘How’s Bo?’

‘Fine, and growing up fast. Thank you for asking, Comrade Officer Director.’

‘And your wife?’

‘Likewise.’

‘Good. In Jingmen make sure that you talk only to Mr Chen. He is in charge of the center. Don’t speak with anybody else. Understood?’

‘Yes, Comrade Officer Director.’

‘This morning I was on the phone with him. Mr Chen expects you. Any questions?’

‘No, Comrade Officer Director.’

‘Fine, and make sure to have some fun. Mr Chen was telling me that now they have some karaoke restaurants as good as those in the capital.’

Ng winked and pushed across the desk a thick envelope toward Boqin. Beads of sweat appeared on Boqin’s balding pate. He had heard about this new custom but had never experienced it before.

At that time flying was not yet a matter of course. The slow and overcrowded trains took almost two days to reach Jingmen. From the ‘good relationships’ money Boqin forked out several banknotes for the sleeping carriage attendants, who gave him quiet compartments and provided with simple meals. During the twelve hundred kilometer trip Boqin slept his fill. At home Bo began teething, so they couldn’t sleep through a single night without taking turns to comfort her. On board Boqin ate well, no need to be watchful about spending too much. ‘That’s what they call good life,’ Boqin thought idly to himself, while smoking and chewing on pumpkin seeds. Gradually, the spat-out husks covered the floor beneath his bunk. The regular trundling of the wheels on the rails lulled him day and night.

Boqin arrived at Jiangmen in the late morning. Rested and with a vibrant mind, ready for business. At the railway station he ate some chicken broth noodles and asked about the center’s whereabouts. It was a half-an-hour walk away, in the industrial zone. The people to whom he inquired about the way looked at Boqin strangely, as if it were bad manners to ask about such a place. ‘Southerners harbor some of these bourgeois prejudices. It must be because of the Japanese occupation during the war,’ thought Boqin.

The eight-and-a-half-meter high steel gate topped with the barbed wire coils looked desolate. The dirty dark stained color of the gate, which had been painted and repainted, was brightened with the huge red cloth banner bearing the party’s recent slogan written in white letters: ‘Time is Money, Efficiency is Life.’ No other information, let alone the center’s name, was to be seen on or around the gate. The high windowless wall made from huge concrete slabs and crowned with the three barbed wire coils – one on top of the other two – marked the center’s parameter. It stood at the legally prescribed 250 meters from the nearest civilian buildings. Muddy terrain, littered with industrial rubbish and slag, separated the center from the city. Only sparse clumps of grass, yellowed by toxic refuse, obstinately sprouted in this no-man’s-land. The street leading to the entrance was narrow, barely the width of a single truck. ‘Who’s there?’ someone yelled at Boqin from above. When he raised his head to look up, he heard the unmistakable clink of a gun’s security lock released.

Boqin knew that the guard in the observation tower kept his finger on the trigger, as the military regulations required in such a situation. He had done his military duty. The whole thing was increasingly unpleasant.

‘I’m Mr Li from the Oriental Machinery Company in the capital,’ Boqin yelled back.

‘Stay where you are’, the guard kept the gun aimed at him. As The Rule Book of Guarding Duties at Security Facilities provided, the two guards in charge of opening the gate had to phone the center’s head office for their decision. The law didn’t allow any intruders at the perimeter. It was a serious offence to idle in front of the gate. After opening the country a crack to the world, sightings of class enemies and spies multiplied. The Leader was right, ‘Maintaining Stability is of Top Priority.’ In order to keep the state steady and prosperous on the socialist road of progress toward communism, the dictatorship of the proletariat and the leadership of the party had to be maintained with all necessary means. Only in this way would it be possible to construct a socialist market economy with Chinese characteristics that would ensure wellbeing for all as Marx and Mao had rightly predicted.