Chapter 17 Section 3 Selling Blood for the First Time

That night, I don’t know when I fell asleep, and I returned to my hometown in my sleep. The mountains and plains in my hometown are full of flowers, and there are many cars, pulling all kinds of food: canned food, fruit, steamed buns, and there are doors. Pork, pulled into the village.My father recovered from his illness. He and many fellow villagers looked at the cart full of food and smiled happily... Suddenly, there was a voice of yelling and cursing from the stairs, the voice was majestic and urgent: "Fuck, get up, get up for me, go downstairs and get on the bus." I woke up from the dream, opened my eyes, and there was darkness in front of me. Haven't figured out where I am, is it in the hometown full of flowers, or in the dormitory of the newspaper office?Someone came in and lifted the quilt off me: "Damn, get down quickly!"

I looked sideways and saw the shiny scalp of the man standing on the ground.He is bald. The sky is not yet completely bright, the breeze blows outside the window, the leaves rustle, like spring silkworms chewing on mulberry leaves, and like thousands of horses galloping, everything in the room looks dim.I fumbled to get dressed, and walked down the stairs with the boy. The vicious dogs on the first floor were no longer visible, and I don't know where they were locked up. As soon as I walked out of the building, I got kicked on the buttocks, and my bald head stood behind and cursed: "It's so slow, you're riding a pig?"

I didn't dare to say anything, and followed the crowd to a big tree.There was a big truck parked under the big tree, and there were already a dozen people on the truck, all standing, they were very quiet and didn't say a word. I boarded the truck, the truck started, the sound of the engine was extremely loud, rumbling, as if it was going to fight the local tyrants to divide the fields.In the distance, there is a quiet village. A few cock crows sounded suddenly, and then stopped abruptly, as if suddenly frozen.The sky in the east is pale, and it is estimated that it is only four o'clock in the morning.Where is this truck, pulling this carload of people, going?

After walking for more than an hour, the truck stopped in front of a row of bungalows. This row of bungalows is very ordinary, with snow-white tiles on the outside and glass on the windows, no different from those rural houses.Three sides of the bungalow are flat fields and one side is a pond.The door of the one-story house on the farthest side had a sign of "So-and-so blood station". I asked a person next to me, and he said that so-and-so was the name of this town.After the blood is drawn here, it will be sent to the blood center in the county. At this time, the sky had just cleared up, and pieces of white clouds floated in the blue sky like veils, and the mountains and forests in the distance were misty and blurred. Someone was driving a buffalo on the distant horizon, like a piece of paper-cut, it seemed Very unreal.This kind of scene reminded me of my childhood life, and a layer of bitterness and bitterness surged in my heart.And these people with sallow or dark complexion, these people with messy hair and unshaven beards are no different from the folks in my hometown. Although they speak different accents, I can tell that they all come from the countryside.Not from the countryside, who would come here to sell blood?

At this time, most people in the city hadn’t woken up yet, the old people who did their morning exercises just appeared in the park, the cleaners on the street had just finished cleaning and were putting their brooms into their carts, and the morning bus had just driven into the streets—— The city has not woken up from its deep sleep, however, hundreds of people have gathered around this remote and closed blood station.The crowd is noisy, crowded, pushing, whispering with mouths that haven't had time to brush their teeth, and cursing loudly with bloody angry voices... It's like a country fair.

The strange thing is that there are women in this group of people. They are mixed in a group of men, like golden rapeseed flowers mixed in green wheat seedlings, they are particularly eye-catching.Some of them are middle-aged, and some are girls around 20 years old. They account for nearly half of the hundreds of people. These people are the blood slaves I've heard of before. A few minutes later, I saw a few men coming out of the row of bungalows with bamboo poles and walking towards the noisy crowd. They waved bamboo poles to drive away these blood slaves, just like driving sheep.The blood slaves dodged the bamboo poles above their heads, crowding and shoving. The blood slaves on the outermost side looked at the bamboo poles in horror, and at the same time slanted their bodies to get into the crowd.Soon, the crowd turned into several long lines, twisting their bodies like a long snake, extending from the door of the bungalow to the edge of the pond.

I was mixed in a group of people, moving forward slowly, with Du Bin in front of me and the boy in the same room behind me.There is a stench among the crowd, which is the smell of sweat, foot odor, bad breath, and all kinds of indescribable odors, which make people feel sick and make their scalp swell.The sun has risen, shining on the expressionless faces, on the piles of old and tattered clothes, and on the pairs of longing eyes.Some people in the crowd yawned, some stretched their waists, some shed tears, and some simply sat on the ground and moved forward.The sun was hidden in the clouds, the wind was blowing from nowhere, it was cool, with a fishy smell, it was the smell of rotten fish and shrimps in the pond, after a while, the sky darkened, and raindrops fell, raindrops It was so big that the floating dust on the ground made a loud noise.Some people took off their clothes and put them on top of their heads;The people behind said: "Hurry up, hurry up," and the people in front said: "Hurry up, hurry up." In fact, there are still several tens of meters away from the bungalow.In the bungalow, a few people in white coats are drawing blood for the blood slaves, 400ml per person, whether you like it or not, as long as you sit on the stool in front of you, the white coats don’t say a word, and you pick up your clothes , tie your upper arm with a rubber band, hit the back of your hand a few times, the excited blood vessels will stand out, once the needle is inserted, the black and red blood will flow out happily, and flow into a plastic bag inside.

I'm a little flustered.Do they just let them draw my blood and watch the needle stick into my body like this, is the needle clean?Is there any AIDS patient among the people it pierced?Or anyone with other blood disorders?However, now that the queue is here, what excuse can I use to walk away. I finally got into the bungalow and finally didn't have to get in the rain. I saw Du Bin sitting on the stool and took out his ID card. On the ID card, his name was not Du Bin, but Qiang. His identity There was also a piece of paper on the back of the card with a big "O" written on it. I didn't know what that was and why I had to stick this piece of paper. I found out later that it was the blood type.

After the blood was drawn, Du Bin didn't show any pain on his face, on the contrary he was a little excited. He stood up and walked out.I sat on the stool. "Take it out." The white coat said, with contempt in her eyes. "Take what?" I asked. "Identity, identity, certificate." Her attitude was blunt, and every word she uttered was like a stone, hitting me hard on the head.She is high above, she has an extreme sense of superiority, she squints at me, like squinting at a dirty beggar. "No." I had to tell the truth.Previously, I hid my ID card in the drawer of the newspaper office desk.How can unannounced visits bring ID cards?

"What the hell are you doing here without an ID card?" A man sitting next to him in a white coat scolded.Before that, he had been silent, his eyes were sallow, his eyes were dark, like the eyes of an eagle, and he had a long and thin face, like an eagle, which made people daunting.He grabbed me by the collar, pulled me outside the door, and shouted at the people outside: "Whose person is this? Whose person is this?" The bald head hurried over, his eyes panicked.Eagle pushed me to the bald head: "Get an ID card!" Then he walked into the bungalow by himself. Looking at me with a bald head, he became angry from embarrassment, and kicked me: "Damn, what are you doing here without an ID card?"

I stepped aside without a word.No one told me before that an ID card is required to sell blood. Selling blood, like donating blood, requires knowing the exact source of the blood.Voluntary blood donation requires an ID number, while selling blood requires an ID number.Otherwise, the blood bank will not accept blood from unknown sources, because blood from unknown sources is too dangerous. At that time, people had just learned about AIDS, the source and transmission route of this deadly disease, and blood transmission was the most important route. I have donated blood many times. On the blood donation vehicle in the city center, before each blood donation, the nurses would ask: "Have you donated blood in the past six months?" They would draw blood only after getting a negative answer.According to relevant regulations, blood can only be donated or sold once in six months.This is also determined by the human hematopoietic function. However, here, in order to sell more blood, each blood slave has several ID cards.On Du Bin's many ID cards, only one name is Du Bin, and the address is actually Guangxi.Du Bin may not be his real name either. People here have no names, only numbers, just like prisoners.When the bloodhead calls you, he doesn't call you by your name, only your number.Some numbers also have nicknames, and nicknames are also code names that Bloodhead likes to call.Those with a tuft of hair at the corner of their mouth are called "a pinch of hair", those with a distiller's nose are called "red noses", those who come from Hubei at a young age are called "Little Hubei", and those who walk in circles are called "bow legs"... My code name It is 26, which means I am the 26th person to enter this three-story building.There are also 26 blood slaves living here. That afternoon, after the blood slaves sold their blood, the truck took them back to the three-story building.They scrambled to the kitchen, devoured the cabbage and radish in big mouthfuls, drank the black vegetable soup like washing pot water, and then lay down on the bed with satisfaction.This blood sale, 400ml per person, the blood bank pays 200 yuan, deducting 20% ​​of the blood head and blood bully, each of them can get 160 yuan. It was also on that day that I realized that above the blood slave is the blood head, and above the blood head is the blood tyrant.The one who scolded the bald head was the blood tyrant.There are dozens of blood slaves under a blood head, and there are several blood heads under a blood tyrant.The bloodheads are all local hooligans, while the blood tyrants are people with good hands and eyes, who can play both black and white. The blood slaves are very grateful to the blood tyrant and the blood head, because they gave him the opportunity to make money.However, they don't know that blood tyrants and blood heads rely on them to sell blood and earn much more than them. A blood slave sells blood once, and the blood bank pays 200 yuan, but he can only get 160 yuan, and 40 yuan is handed over to the blood head blood bully.If a blood head has 20 blood slaves under his command, every time the blood slaves sell blood, the blood head blood tyrant can get 800 yuan.Blood-headed blood tyrants are divided according to fifty-five points, blood tyrants get 400 yuan, and blood heads get 400 yuan.If a blood tyrant has five bloodheads under his command, he can get 2,000 yuan each time. Blood belongs to blood slaves, and every time blood is sold, blood slaves can only get 160 yuan, blood heads get 400 yuan, and blood tyrants get 2,000 yuan. A blood slave will sell blood at least seven times a month. A blood slave earns 1,120 yuan a month, a bloodhead gets 2,800 yuan, and a blood tyrant gets 14,000 yuan. This is the minimum income.I learned from unannounced visits that some blood slaves sell more than 15 times a month.The biggest bloodhead has more than 100 blood slaves, and a blood tyrant I know has more than a dozen bloodheads. Blood slaves also pay for board and lodging every month, while blood-headed blood tyrants do not pay any fees. There is a local saying that raising a few blood slaves is more profitable than raising a few cows.No wonder the Bloodhead would rack his brains to find blood slaves from the train station, from the rescue station, and from all possible channels. Before, sitting in the office of the newspaper, I never knew that such a chain of interests existed in this world, and such a group of people lived there.