by A. Yi
“Will it be if he kills someone?”
“Theoretically speaking, yes.”
That special forces veteran, Liu Guohua, 1.8 meters tall, walked all the way to the moat in a rage, howling for a long time like a wild wolf. All the lights around went out, and the one in the Zhu house hesitantly turned off. At that point, Liu Guohua’s strength was completely depleted. He threw his palms against the security door and began sobbing. “Dandan, open the door. My heart hurts like hell.”
Over these two hours, Zhu Dan’s head buzzed incessantly. She felt there was no way to shake it. The discontent and agony of her life gushed up like she was being flogged by countless whips or cornered by a ferocious tiger slapping its sharp paws against the fragile bars between them. She wanted to bang her head against the wall or have a gun aimed at her temple and shoot a bullet in it. She wanted lucidity, the kind that chases darkness away. “I was about to lose my mind,” she told Mother. “I didn’t know what to do.” She opened the door. Liu Guohua tumbled in and hugged her legs. Besides crying, he just kept asking: “Why?”
“My mom disapproves. I’ve tried to persuade her for years. No use. She disapproves.”
“Then do you still love me?”
“Don’t know.”
“Don’t know. You don’t know.” Liu Guohua slapped the table, tears rolling down his face. “Obviously, you don’t want me anymore. You despise me.”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
Then she added, “I tried. Sorry.”
“You despise me.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you marrying someone else?”
“Everyone gets married sooner or later. I’m not young anymore. Don’t speak. Listen to me. I waited for you. You always said you’d make money. Where’s your money? Where’s your house? Do you expect me to live in Erfangliu when we get married?”
It was the right moment to break up. “All right, all right,” Liu Guohua repeated, waddling downstairs. She never thought it would be so easy. Covered in sweat, she followed him down. He slammed the door behind him, which was what she had hoped for. Then she pulled herself together, leaned against the doorframe and watched him leave to show that she wasn’t heartless.
“No. I still love you.” Liu Guohua came back out of the dark. “I can’t stop myself from loving you. I can’t live without you.” Then he willfully acted like a lunatic. He found a new weapon which he used so smoothly that his weaknesses were hidden, and all his unreasonable demands were fulfilled.
“Either you die, I die, or we die together.”
“You know what? You’re scaring me.” She shook her head.
“I don’t care.”
At first, it seemed like he was acting, then he lost himself in it. “Kill me. This is the only way. See, I can’t help loving you.” She went to the kitchen to get him water. When she came back and saw him dramatically return to his grief-stricken state she couldn’t conceal her contempt at all. She said: “Drink some and stop the crazy talk.” He drained the water, and looked at her with the silent, frightening eyes of an animal, and said: “Do you really love me or not?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Do you really love me or not? I’m asking you.”
“No.” Suddenly she entered an unusually calm state, said, “I’m telling you. I don’t love you and never will. I won’t love you in this life or in the next. Even if you try to kill me I’ll say the same.”
“You think I’m afraid to?” Liu Guohua said as he drew the knife.
“Come on then.”
She shut her eyes. Waiting in dead silence, she felt like a martyr cloaked in a sense of autonomy she’d never felt before. She said, “Go ahead.” Liu Guohua roared in despair and to show his attachment to her suddenly stabbed his palm.
“What are you doing?”
“Fuck off.”
Like an excellent executor, that beast began to draw lines with the knife, first on his belly, then arms, knees and forehead. The lines appeared white at first, then red beads of blood oozed out from them. “What are you doing?”
“Fuck off.”
While she was bewildered he shouted again, “Fuck off, you bitch.” She saw him put his left index finger on the table and chop it like a vegetable then say: “I want to make myself remember. I have all these scars just to remember to never be sweet with you. The scars will remind me that I hate you. From now on all we have is hatred.
“I swear one day I’ll come back and set you straight. I might come back at any time, I might ruin you, and might ruin your parents, husband, or children. You might get killed or paralyzed, maybe one of you, maybe all of you. It’s all up to me to choose one or all, to kill or to paralyze. I’ll wait till your life is like a ripe peach then pick it. I’ll do what I said. When the time comes and you beg I won’t forgive you either. I swear with this finger that I’ll never forgive you.”
Then, he disappeared for good.
Zhu Dan went numb after that. Everyone knew she was panicked at her wedding. She turned back from time to time to look at the doorway or hide behind Father. Once the wedding ceremony was over she rushed to her room and locked herself in. At the time people thought she was just being shy. “I was afraid that he’d come throw acid,” she told Mother. When the latter took her into her arms, she cried out loud, “Since the child was born, I’ve been afraid he’d suddenly show up, snatch the child, and drop him to his death. These years he’s been like a steel plate jammed in my head, keeping me from relaxing. Mom, it’s like I’m standing in an isolated temple, the sounds of hooves everywhere in the rain. I turn around and around, no idea where the danger is coming from. I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll save you. I’m here to save you. Has he come?”
“No. He disappeared. For a time, I thought he was bluffing, and time would change everything. Time could lessen his anger. I even thought the threat was a joke. The joke was the purpose, he used it to punish me. This country has laws after all. He terrified me, terrified me to the point of being unable to live my life. He got what he wanted. But just when I was thinking this he had someone deliver me a package. Inside was a plastic bag dripping clear butter, a moldy finger inside. It was the one he chopped off.
“He will come back.”
Though Mother wasn’t completely convinced by the story, she nevertheless furiously summoned her relatives in town. They all hurried to Erfangliu Village. “Liu Guohua? Where’s Liu Guohua?” they shouted as they arrived. The young and middle-aged were all at work. They found the little house. As usual, the old man put his left hand on the old woman’s shoulder and came out, dragging his crippled right leg.
“Who do you think you are?” Mother said. Drool suddenly ran out of the old man’s mouth as he said, “What are you talking about?”
“She said Guohua has wronged her daughter,” the old woman said then turned to Mother. “Please be fair. Our family has been farmers for generations, and I know you’re townspeople. Though they didn’t get married, we never blamed the girl. Not the same class.”
“Never blamed? Your son said he’ll kill my daughter.”
“Impossible. My son’s so well-behaved.”
“How is it impossible?” Mother got mad, screamed. A big tear rolled down from the old man’s eyes. Fighting the tears, he said: “You should go away.”
“We’re not going anywhere. I’ve come all this way to tell you the Zhu family has never been afraid of anyone.”
“Go.”
“I’m here to tell you my daughter came to your house all these years, begging you, serving you so that your son would change his mind and not harm her. Does she deserve it? Do you deserve it? What did you do to deserve her kindness?”
The old man got so angry he shakily took out a glass from his bag and threw it. It landed a meter away from Mother. The old woman started cry
ing. “They must all be dead, no one’s coming to help.” Mother wasn’t afraid of any villagers, just afraid the two would have a stroke. After some more bitter words she calmly got in the car and went right back to town. She found the police chief. The police chief immediately put Liu Guohua on the wanted list.
* * *
Two more years passed, smooth and calm. In her old age Mother suffered the loss of her toughness and fell into loneliness. She joined a qigong group and clapped vigorously every evening. One day she overexerted herself and came to an epiphany that the world was a cannibalistic world. From then on she was barely lucid. She also happened to be a born atheist, so she could control her outside appearance, keep others from noticing for a while. But insanity, like savory meat, tempted her to dig in willingly. The instant she stopped it would feel like countless ants were eating her heart.
Zhu Wei knew the situation and seldom came home. Unlike sons, daughters were a parent’s down coat. Zhu Dan still came home every day. Mother began constantly hounding Maid with the suspicion of poisoning her. The fuzzy-lipped Maid was an illiterate country lady. She couldn’t stand the humiliation and packed her bag to leave, but Zhu Dan stopped her and raised her salary by two hundred yuan. Zhu Dan said, “Auntie, you’ve served her for eight years, after all. Just treat her like a child and play with her.” When Maid heard this her heart softened and later she might even joke: “Boss, you say I’m poisoning you, if I wanted to poison you I’d have done it long ago, wouldn’t wait till now.”
Mother said: “Hmph, you eat first. Better if you poison yourself to death first.”
Maid drank big bowls of alcohol, and ate big pieces of meat. Then they played games in the house day and night. Mother always hid money scribbled with strange patterns in the corners when Maid wasn’t paying attention and pretended to forget them. Maid would gather them up and give them back to her. Mother would wet her fingers and count each one; if any were missing, she’d shout: “I’ve always known you were lying scum. You’re so greedy you’d even steal such a small amount of money from your boss.” Then Maid would look for the money with a flashlight and soon found the five-yuan note.
One day, Mother suddenly came up with the idea that Maid had lodged her country relatives in the house. Restless, she started searching everywhere. She searched from the first to the fourth floor and found nobody, so she went up to the attic. The stairway to the attic was narrow and steep. She protected her head with one hand and climbed the stairs. As soon as she unlocked the door she saw a curtain of dust, a big crow flapping its wings as it flew out the window.
There were two wooden chests lying there, sealed with tape, and wrapped in rope, perfectly coated in crimson paint. It seemed to her they were waiting to be moved elsewhere but were left behind like poor children. Mother wiped the dust off the lid and thought, “I’ve never organized the things in these two chests.”
She went downstairs, looking for Maid, but couldn’t find her, so she went back with scissors. She cut the ropes, tore the tape, and opened the lid. A moldy stench nearly knocked her over. What she saw stunned her. First she thought Maid’s father was a butcher but then decided the bones didn’t belong to animals. She was amused. At the time, her feeble mind was absorbed by two memories swimming toward each other. Once they met she understood everything.
Bones. . .Daughter.
But just then from downstairs came Maid’s hearty laughter. How can you still laugh? What have you done? You killed someone, hid the corpse here, framed the Zhu family! She stumbled downstairs, leafed through her notebook, and found the telephone numbers of Zhu Wei and Zhu Dan. Zhu Wei didn’t answer the phone. Zhu Dan didn’t answer either. The second time she called, Zhu Dan’s phone was off. Mother walked downstairs through increasing terror and into the sunny afternoon. She walked across the city moat and down Zhishu Lane, nearly running into Daughter before turning onto a side street. This is a serious matter. She took the shortcut to the police station. Meanwhile, Zhu Dan came to the end of Zhishu Lane, crossed the river, and bickered with the owner of Sheyuan Restaurant, before going home. The lazy maid quickly appeared, knitting in hand, and said with a fawning smile, “Dandan’s back?”
“How’s my mom today?”
“Same as always.”
“I saw her run out.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll run back. She’s afraid I’ll steal her stuff.”
Not too long after, Mother shouted, “Stay where you are” as she ran up, followed by a group of policemen. There was something fishy about this: the police had never paid attention to reports from madmen, but the old police chief was Mother’s lifelong sweetheart. They had been close since middle school, never held hands, hugged, or kissed. They were like the closest siblings in the world. He’d always been tolerant and accommodating of her domineering personality. That day when she kneeled down, sobbing, the police chief teared up. “If it’s a game, I’m playing the game with you. I’ll be stepping down soon anyway.” He brought a policeman and two trainees with him to the Zhu house. Going up the stairs, they saw Zhu Dan rushing down, sweating all over, so they hugged the corner and let her go down first.
“What’s going on, Dandan?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
She forced a bitter smile and leaned against the handrail as she glided down the stairs. Ten minutes later, as the four policemen investigated the scene, they suddenly understood everything. They rushed downstairs; one of them even drew his gun. They saw Zhu Dan had just reached the bridge. In 10 minutes she had only walked 10 meters. Her footsteps seemed held back by giant globs of chewing gum. She seemed to be hopelessly fleeing in a nightmare.
“We found Liu Guohua’s business card in the victim’s suit. He was your first love wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“How many years has he been dead?”
“Ten years.”
It is said the moment Zhu Dan was handcuffed Mother suddenly became lucid. She threw herself between Daughter and the police, howling very normal phrases: “It was me who did it, it was me who did it.”
“It was me,” Zhu Dan said.
The police chief easily pulled Mother away like a rabbit. She then hugged his legs tightly, and shouted: “I killed him. I stabbed him to death, chopped him up. I chopped him up into pulp.”
“It was me,” Zhu Dan said.
After that Mother seemed lost in an endless, thick fog, never to be normal again. She once waited outside the prison, without knowing she was waiting for her daughter. Maid took her there. When the prison van drove by, through the barred window, Zhu Dan saw Mother smiling at her – a rather nonchalant and detached smile as if they weren’t related by blood at all. The incident caused a stir in the town, even the entire county. Every day a crowd came to the door of the Zhu house, hands in pockets, and looked up to examine it. Some even pulled out cameras to take pictures. Liu Guohua’s relatives had long since covered the facade with white placards reading Blood for Blood; they hung a banner too. Mother was like one of the onlookers, curiously observing every detail. Sometimes she would stroke the white paper and, using the vague knowledge in her memory, read a few characters.
The case was heard in the county’s people’s court. Surprisingly, Chen Xiaopeng suddenly ignored his mother’s disapproval and tapped all of his and his father’s political and legal connections to exonerate Zhu Dan. He hired a nationally renowned lawyer who pushed the trial to an impasse with a single sentence:
“The deceased committed suicide by ingesting a large quantity of sleeping pills. After he passed out my client felt for his breath and found he was already dead. In a panic, my client dragged the body beneath the bed and concealed it. Later, out of fear, my client dismembered the body in an attempt to move it elsewhere. In accordance with current criminal law, her act constitutes corpse desecration, but at the time, the law had no regulations regarding this crime.”
“Bullshit.”
Zhu Dan turned her head and saw Liu’s mother was gripping a white handkerchief over her nose and mouth and crying. She cried and cried, then pinched the tip of her nose with her right thumb and index finger, and blew her nose loudly. Then, head swaying, she went on crying. On her lap lay the portrait of the deceased adorned with white flowers. Sensing Zhu Dan was looking at her, she stood up and shouted: “That nasty woman came to my house these last years, either lied that my son was in Guangdong or Fujian, and said he wouldn’t come back until he earned enough money to buy a whole county. You lied to us so long. You liar.”
Zhu Dan said, “Sorry.”
Then she turned back and said to the judge: “Now I breathe steadily, feel relaxed. The doctor was right. When I turn and face the fear, the fear just is what it is.”
Later, the prosecutor requested permission to exhibit evidence, and the two chests of white bones were carried into the court; one of the lower limbs wore a leather shoe. The majority of the bones were chopped open before the public, the cracks like blooming morning glories. “We may gather how much force was exerted at the time,” the prosecutor said.
“This proves nothing. You have no proof this is a murder case,” the lawyer said.
“We have eight incriminating statements from the defendant.”
“I think we should rely mainly upon evidence rather than oral confessions.”
“Defendant, what do you think?” the judge again said with compassion. His attitude caused an uproar in the public gallery. The group of Liu’s family and friends slapped the table, railing against the unfairness of the trial. But then they heard Zhu Dan say: “If I say I killed him, you’ll find me guilty. If I say I didn’t kill him, it’d be very hard to determine I killed him. Now I intend to say I killed him.