The Descent

It  wasn't  supposed  to  be  this  way.  The  adoption  agency  had  advertised  that  China was jammed with foundlings. Female  foundlings,  hundreds  of  thousands  of  them,  tiny girls exiled from one-child families that wanted a  son.  Holly  Ann  had  read  that  female orphans were  still sold as servants  or as tongyangxi, child  brides.  If  it  was  a  baby  girl you  wanted,  no  one  went  home  empty.  Until  us,  thought  Holly  Ann.  It  was  as  if  the Pied  Piper  had  come  through  and  cleaned  the  place  out.  And  more  than  just  orphans were  missing. Children  altogether.  You  saw  evidence  of  them  –  toys,  kites,  streetside

chalkboards. But the streets  were  barren  of children under the age of ten.

'Where could they  have  gone?' Holly Ann asked each night.

Wade  had  come  up  with  a  theory.  'They  think  we've  come  to  steal  their  kids.  They must be hiding them.'

Out  of  that  observation  had  grown  today's  guerrilla  raid.  Surprisingly,  Mr  Li  had agreed to it. They  would drop in on an orphanage that was out of the way,  and  with  no prior warning of their visit.

As  night  descended,  Mr  Li  drove  deeper  through  the  alleyways.  Holly  Ann  hadn't come exactly  expecting pandas in rain forests and  kung  fu  temples  beneath  the  Great Wall,  but  this  was  like  a  madman's  blueprint,  with  detours  and  dead  ends  all  held together  by  electric wires and rusty  rebar  and bamboo scaffolding. South China  had  to be  the  ugliest  place  on  earth.  Mountains  were  being  leveled  to  fill  in  the  paddies  and lakes.  Rivers  were  being  dammed.  Strangely,  even  as  these  people  leveled  the  earth, they  were  crowding the sky.  It  was like robbing the sun to feed the night.

Acid rain started  hitting the windshield  in  sloppy  kisses,  yellowish  and  festering  like spit. Deep coal mines  honeycombed  the  hills  in  this  district,  and  everyone  burned  the mines' product. The  air reeked.

The  asphalt  turned  to  dirt.  The  sun  dropped.  This  was  the  witching  hour.  They'd seen it in other cities. The  policemen in green  uniforms  vanished.  From  doorways  and windows  and  niches  in  the  towering  alley,  eyes  tracked  the  gweilo  –  white  devils  – and passed them on to more eyes.

The  darkness  congealed.  Mr  Li  slowed,  obviously  lost.  He  rolled  down  his  window and waved  a man over  from the sidewalk and gave  him a cigarette.  They  talked.  After a minute, the man  got  a  bicycle  and  Mr  Li  started  off  again,  with  his  guide  holding  on to  the  door.  Here  and  there  the  bicyclist  issued  a  command  and  Mr  Li  would  turn down another street.  Rain sprayed  through the window into the back.

Side by  side, the car and the bicyclist made turns for another five minutes.  Then  the man grunted and patted  the rooftop. He detached from them and pedaled away.

'Here,' Mr Li announced.

'You're joking,' Wade said.

Holly  Ann  craned  her  neck  to  see  through  the  windshield.  Surrounded  by  barbed wire,  the   gray   walls  of  a  factory   complex   squatted   before   them   in   their   harsh headlights.  Bits  of  ominous  black  thread  had  been  tied  to  the  barbed  wire,  and  the walls  carried  huge,  ugly   characters   in  stark   red   paint.  Half-finished  skyscrapers blocked her view  to the rear.  They  had reached some sort  of  dead  epicenter.  In  every direction, the stone-stillness radiated out from here.

'Let's  get  this  over  with,'  Wade  said,  and  got  out  of  the  car.  He  pulled  at  the  gate. Concertina  wire  wobbled  like  quicksilver.  Holly  Ann's  first  impression  gave  way  to another. This looked less like a factory  than a prison. The  barbed wire and inscriptions appeared to have  one purpose:  enclosure.  'What  kind  of  orphanage  is  this?'  she  asked Mr Li.

'Good place, no problem,' he said. But he seemed  nervous.

Wade  banged  at  the  industrial-style  door.  The  brick-and-pig-iron  decor  dwarfed him. When no one answered, he simply turned the handle  and  the  metal  door  opened. He  didn't  turn  around  to  gesture  yes  or  no.  He  just  went  inside.  'Great,  Wade,'  Holly Ann muttered.

Holly  Ann  got  out.  Mr  Li's  door  stayed  closed.  She  looked  through  the  windshield and rapped on the glass. He looked up at her through his little  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke, eyes  wishing  her  from  his  life,  then  reached  under  to  turn   off  the   ignition.  The windshield  wipers  quit  knocking  back  and  forth.  His  image  blurred  with  rain.  He  got out.

On  second  thought,  she  reached  into  the  back  and  grabbed  a  packet  of  disposable diapers. Mr Li left the headlights on, but locked all the doors. 'Bandits,' he said.