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She looks like my mother

I was surprised to see her in a line of bare-chested porters

By Barbara M QuinnPublished 2 years ago 6 min read
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She looks like my mother
Photo by Liv Bruce on Unsplash

I was surprised to see her in a line of bare-chested porters. Well, female porters are rare, and she was so short and skinny that I didn't know if she could move a box of tiles.

Another reason for my surprise was that I had just seen her yesterday afternoon, in front of a big supermarket. The reason why I looked at her a few more times was that she looked a bit like my mother, with a face full of wrinkles and a face that was clearly beyond her real age. She just looked slightly younger, but thinner, like a smaller version of my mother who was thousands of miles away from home. I remember laughing because of this.

She was arguing with her son at the time, and although she tried to act like a parent reprimanding her child, the two looked like they were arguing. Her son was just 13 or 14 years old, but half a head taller than her, and she had to tilt her head to count her son - because the boy had taken the initiative to buy a pair of white Nike shoes at the supermarket, and immediately changed them as soon as he came out of the supermarket, carrying the old pair in his hands. In this way, even if she won the argument with her son, the shoes could not be returned. So she took two steps back and carefully examined the expensive shoes on her son's feet several times.

I've seen the special price sign for those shoes in the supermarket, $799. She was angry because of the price, she said she was in front of the supermarket every day to organize the bicycle, cleaning, only 800 yuan a month to earn, he bought a pair of shoes to spend. Her son looked even angrier, saying that the basketball team's classmates bought this year's new models, the cheapest also more than 1,000 yuan, he bought a pair of old models, discounted 60%, the result was also nagged for half a day.

It is surprising to see her again today, so coincidentally that I could not help but look at her more. She was very sensitive and soon found me looking at her. She misunderstood my eyes and ran from the row of movers to assure me that she could move it and that she was not here to mix up the moving fees, so I could rest assured. I was just doing my friend a small favor by watching the movers vacate a warehouse for him. My friend was waiting in the new warehouse to unload and arrange the location, leaving me over here to keep an eye on the loading. So I nodded at her in peace and said, "You can pick the smaller boxes and be careful not to smash your feet."

She had turned to go, heard me say this, looked back at me, and misunderstood my meaning again. The first box she gambled to carry a maximum, which is 80 cm × 80 cm specifications, a box of 90 pounds. I tried, but two people lifting are a little hard. She is short, and can not be carried like others, so she had to hold the tiles, body back, chin tightly on top, walking a little wobbly. Although it was a struggle, but also smoothly carried to the warehouse door next to the carriage. She stopped for a moment, held it with her right leg, took a deep breath, and lifted the tiles a little higher with a "hey" sound, and the porter in the car took them over. She dusted off her lapel and turned her head to look at me with a little smugness in her eyes.

When the first car was filled, the porters suddenly scrambled to climb on the car - they all wanted to go with the car to unload. Unloading and loading the car for the same amount of money, but much easier than loading, and requires fewer people, only four, so the first four people to climb on the car, even if they grabbed the opportunity. Her reaction was slow, and when she squeezed to the side of the car, the four winners were already smiling, with a kind of glee of having taken advantage of the situation.

The slow movers gave up and came back to unscrew their respective cups and fill them with water, and then some of them chatted noisily, some gathered to play cards, and some went to the door to look around to see if there were any opportunities for odd jobs. She watched reluctantly from the doorway as the car drove away for a long time before slowly turning around and walking back.

I don't know what to call her. The male porters call her "that girl" when they talk about her behind her back with a sneer. They said she was trafficked here from Sichuan by her aunt and sold to an older man 18 years older than her. In the first few years, they were afraid she would run away and chained her to the house, but she refused to leave even after she gave birth to three children in a row.

They were both repulsed and somewhat sympathetic to her. They felt that the porter was a man's job and that she shouldn't come to share their portering fees or do such hard work.

I gave her a plastic stool, signaling her to sit down and rest: "A little while back, how to move this warehouse must be more than a dozen cars, the next trip again."

She forced a smile and did not say anything. She was the only one who didn't have a cup, so I poured water for her in a disposable cup, and she drank while thanking me.

I said, "I saw you yesterday. You were managing bicycles in front of the supermarket, why are you doing this again?"

When she heard me say that, she raised her eyebrows in surprise and smiled: "That job is only for half a day, from 4 pm to 11 pm. I have nothing to do in the morning, so I'll earn a little more." She was very talkative, with a Sichuan accent indeed. Later, she talked to me. She said her man is old, not in good health, lazy, and also likes to drink. She has three children, the eldest daughter is in college, and from the second semester onwards, do not let the family pay money, or do their tutoring to earn tuition and living expenses. The second daughter is also going to take the college entrance exam next year, she is high-minded and only wants to take the Peking University or Tsinghua University. It is the youngest son who has been spoiled since childhood and is not very obedient.

When talking about her daughter, she has been smiling, with heartache, relief, and a little pride; to say that the youngest son is rebellious, often truant, but also talk back to her, quarrel, and sometimes steal money to run away from home, she suddenly cried without warning. Snot and tears mixed, she wiped a handful of wiped on the top of the shoe.

That posture, crying cavity, and expression were almost the same as my mother when I was angry, so for a moment, I was in a trance, as if in the face of a sad my mother again ......

For the next few trips, I explained to the driver, each trip to let her go to unload the car, and not have to squeeze in the carriage, or sit i the passenger seat. She was very happy, every time everyone yelled at her to move faster in the car, she turned around and gratefully smiled at me.

She did not know that every time she smiled at me, I wanted to cry.

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About the Creator

Barbara M Quinn

I hope you like my article.

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