by Mo Yan
The commissar coughed and said, his words strained and unnatural, “Move her away from there and get on with the execution!”
The mute raised his head and let out a series of weird grunts, maybe to register his objection.
The Bird Fairy’s hand kept rubbing the thing down there, her fleshy lips twisted into a greedy but natural and healthy look of pure desire. The commissar’s command fell on deaf ears.
“Young lady,” the commissar asked in a loud voice, “was it rape or was it consensual?”
The Bird Fairy did not reply.
“Do you like him?” the commissar asked her.
Again the Bird Fairy did not reply.
The commissar went into the crowd to find Mother. “Aunty,” he said, obviously embarrassed, “in your view… as I see it, maybe we ought to just let them become husband and wife … Speechless Sun was wrong … but not wrong enough to forfeit his life
Without a word, Mother turned and walked back through the crowd, slowly, as if her back were weighed down by a stone tablet. The people followed her with their eyes, until they heard wails tear from her throat. They couldn’t watch any longer.
“Untie him,” the commissar ordered halfheartedly before turning and leaving the scene.
8
It was the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, the day when the Herder Boy and Weaving Maid meet in the Milky Way. It was hot and sticky, the air so thick with mosquitoes they crashed into one another. Mother spread out a straw mat and we lay down to listen to her feeble mutterings. A drizzle came up as dusk fell; Mother said those were the Weaving Maid’s tears. The humidity was high, with only an occasional gust of wind. Above us, pomegranate leaves shimmied. Soldiers in both the east and west wings lit homemade candles. Mosquitoes feasted on us, despite Mother’s attempts to drive them away with her fan. All the magpies in the world chose this date to fly up into the clear blue sky, sheets and sheets of them, all beak to tail, with no space between them, forming a bridge across the the Milky Way to let the Herder Boy and Weaving Girl meet yet another year. Raindrops and dewdrops were their tears of longing. Amid Mother’s mutterings, Niandi and I, plus the little Sima heir, gazed up at the star-filled sky, trying to find those particular stars. Even though Eighth Sister, Yunii, was blind, she too tipped her face heavenward, her eyes brighter than the stars she could not see. The heavy footsteps of sentries returning from their watch sounded in the lane. Out in the fields, frogs croaked a loud chorus. On the bean trellis a katydid sang its song: Yiya yiya dululu—yiya yiya dululu. As the night deepened, large birds flew roughly and rashly into the air; we watched their white, fuzzy silhouettes and listened to feathery wings brushed by the wind. Bats squeaked excitedly; drops of water fell from the leaves and beat a tattoo on the ground. Sha Zaohua lay cradled in Mother’s arms, breathing evenly. In the east wing, Lingdi screeched like a cat, and the mute’s hulking silhouette flickered in the lamplight. They had been married. Commissar Jiang had officiated at the wedding, and now the meditation room for the Bird Fairy had become a wedding chamber where they could release their passions. The Bird Fairy ran often out into the yard half dressed, and one soldier who was driven to distraction by peeping at her exposed breasts nearly had his neck broken by the mute. “It’s late, time to go to bed,” Mother said. “It’s hot inside, and the room is swarming with mosquitoes,” Sixth Sister said. “Can’t we sleep out here?” “No,” Mother said, “the dampness is bad for you. Besides, there are those in the sky who pick flowers … I think I heard one of them say, There’s a pretty little flower, let’s pick it. Wait till we come back, we’ll get it then. You know who they were? Spider spirits, whose only purpose is to spoil young virgins.”
We lay on the kang, but could not sleep. Except, strangely enough, Eighth Sister, who fell fast asleep, a line of slobber in the corner of her mouth. We choked on smoke from the mosquito incense. Lamplight from the soldiers’ rooms came through their windows and fell on ours, making it possible for us to see bits and pieces of what was out in the yard. A saltwater fish Laidi had sent us was smelling up the latrine outside with its rank rotting odor. She’d sent back lots of valuable things, such as satin fabrics, furniture, and antique curios, all confiscated by the demolition battalion. The bolt on the door creaked. “Who’s there?” Mother shouted as she picked up the cleaver she kept at the head of the kang. No response. Maybe we were hearing things. Mother put the cleaver back where she kept it. From the floor at the head of the kang brief bursts of red light flickered at the end of the smoking mugwort rope that was supposed to keep mosquitoes away.
All of a sudden, a thin figure rose from the head of the kang. Mother let out a frightened shriek. So did Sixth Sister. The dark figure fell across the kang and clapped its hand over Mother’s mouth. She struggled as she groped for the cleaver. But just as she was about to swing it, she heard the figure call out:
“Mother, it’s me, Laidi
The cleaver fell from Mother’s hand onto the straw mat atop the kang. Her eldest daughter was home! Eldest Sister was on her knees on the kang, sobbing. We looked into her shadowy face, and I saw it was covered with little bright spots. “Laidi… my first little girl… is it really you? You’re not a ghost, are you? I’m not afraid even if you are. Let me look at you …” Mother groped around at the head of the kang for a match.
First Sister stayed her hand and said softly, “Don’t light the lamp, Mother.”
“Laidi, you heartless thing. Where have you and that fellow Sha been all these years? You’ve made things so hard on your mother.”
“There’s so much to tell you, Mother,” she said. “But first, where’s my daughter?”
Mother picked up little Sha Zaohua, who was fast asleep, and handed her to Eldest Sister. “You call yourself a mother? You may know how to have a baby, but not how to raise it. Dumb animals do better than that… because of her, your fourth sister and seventh sister …”
“One of these days, Mother, I’ll repay you for all you’ve done for me,” First Sister said. “And I’ll make it up to Fourth Sister and Seventh Sister.”
Just then Sixth Sister came up to us. “First Sister!” she yelled.
Laidi lifted her head away from Sha Zaohua and touched Sixth Sister’s face. “Sixth Sister. Where’s Jintong? And Yunii? Ah, Jintong, Yunii, do you still remember your big sister?”
“If not for the demolition battalion,” Mother said, “this whole family would have starved.”
“Mother,” First Sister said, “the men named Jiang and Lu are no good.”
“They treat us well, so we should not say bad things about them.”
“That is part of their scheme. They sent Sha Yueliang a letter demanding his surrender. If he didn’t, they said, they’d take our daughter hostage.”
“How can that be?” Mother asked. “What does a little baby have to do with war?”
“Mother, my reason for coming home this time was to rescue my daughter. I came with a dozen or more soldiers, and we have to head back immediately. We’ll let Jiang and Lu enjoy their empty victory for now. Mother, our debt to you is higher than a mountain, and I hope you’ll let me repay you someday. The night is long, the dreams many. Now I must leave …”
But before she had a chance to finish, Mother grabbed Sha Zaohua out of her arms. “Laidi!” she said angrily. “Don’t think you can win me over so easily. Think how you dumped her on me back then. Well, I spared nothing in raising her this far, so don’t you think you can just come and take her away. All this stuff about Commander Lu and Commissar Jiang is a pack of lies. You want to be a mother now, now that you and Monk Sha have spent all your passion, is that it?”
“Mother, he’s a brigade leader in the Japanese Imperial Forces, commanding over a thousand troops.”
“I don’t care how many men he has or what kind of leader he is,” Mother said. “Have him claim this child in person, and tell him I’ve kept all those rabbits he hung from the tree for him.”
“Mother,” First Sister
said, “this involves thousands of troops and their mounts, so don’t interfere.”
“I’ve interfered in things half my life already. Thousands of troops and their mounts or thousands of horses and their riders, it doesn’t matter to me. All I know is, I raised Zaohua, and I’m not about to hand her over to somebody else.”
First Sister reached out and snatched the child away, then jumped down off the kang. “You damned turtle spawn!” Mother cursed. “How dare you!”
Zaohua began to cry.
Mother jumped down off the kang and ran after them.
The crackle of gunfire erupted in the yard. Then we heard chaos on the roof above us, as someone screamed and rolled off onto the ground. A foot crashed through our ceiling, letting in clumps of mud and the glare of starlight. There was loud confusion outside, with gunfire, the clang of bayonets, and a soldier’s shout: “Don’t let them get away!”
A dozen or more soldiers of the demolition battalion came running with kerosene torches, turning the yard from night to day. Someone behind the house shouted, “Tie him up! Now let’s see you run away, my little uncle.”
Commander Lu of the demolition battalion strode into the yard and said to Laidi, who was cowering against the wall, holding tightly on to Sha Zaohua, “This is no way to act, is it, Mrs. Sha?”
Zaohua was crying.
Mother walked out into the yard.
We sprawled against the windowsill to watch.
A man lay alongside the path, his body full of holes, blood forming little puddles that snaked out in all directions. The offensive smell of warm blood. The choking smell of kerosene. Blood oozing from the bullet holes bubbled in places. He wasn’t dead yet: one of his legs twitched spasmodically, he was biting the ground, and his neck was twitching. We couldn’t see his face. Leaves on the trees were like gold or silver foil. The mute was standing in front of Commander Lu, waving his sword and shouting. The Bird Fairy came outside, dressed this time, wearing what could only have been one of the mute’s uniform shirts, which came down to her knees but only half covered her breasts and belly. Her exposed ankles were long and snowy white, the calves sleek and muscular. Her lips were parted, her eyes glazed as she gazed at the torches. A squad of soldiers came into the yard with three bound men in olive drab uniforms. One of them, his face ashen, had been wounded in the shoulder; it was still bleeding. Another was hobbling on a gimp leg. The third man was straining to raise his head, but failing, since the men behind him were pulling it down as low as it would go by a rope around his neck. Commissar Jiang came into the yard, flashlight in hand, the lens covered by a piece of red satin, which turned the light a muted red. Mother’s bare feet slapped the ground — pa-da pa-da — crushing the tiny mounds of dirt raised by worms. Showing no fear at all, she demanded of Commander Lu, “What’s going on here?”
“This has nothing to do with you, aunty,” he said.
Commissar Jiang flashed his red-satined light in Laidi’s face. She stood there like a poplar.
Mother walked up to First Sister and ripped Zaohua out of her hands. Cradling the baby in her arms, she said in a calming voice, “Good girl, don’t be afraid. Granny’s here.”
Zaohua’s cries softened until she was merely sobbing softly.
First Sister held her arms as if the baby were still in them, as if she were petrified. It was an ugly sight. Her face was ghostly white, her gaze frozen. She was wearing a green man’s uniform, under which her full breasts jutted out straight.
“Mrs. Sha, you people could not have received more humane treatment than we gave you. We didn’t try to force you to accept our reorganization,” Commander Lu said. “But you should not have gone over to the Japs.”
“That is for the menfolk to decide. I’m just the man’s wife.”
Commissar Jiang said, “We hear that Mrs. Sha is Commander Sha’s chief of staff.”
“All I know,” First Sister said, “is that I’ve come for my daughter. If you’ve got the balls, go do battle with him. Taking a child hostage is not how a man worthy of the name would go about it.”
“Mrs. Sha, you’ve got it all wrong,” Commissar Jiang said. “We have nothing but affection for Miss Sha. Just ask your mother. Ask your sisters. Heaven and earth are our witnesses. I’ll tell you what we’re all about. We love the child, and everything we do is in her best interests. What we don’t want for this lovely little girl is that she have traitors for parents.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” First Sister said. “You’re wasting your breath. But do what you want with me, since I am your prisoner.”
The mute swung into action. He looked particularly menacing in the light of all those torches. His skin was nearly black, and glossy, as if covered with badger fat. Ah-ao — ah-ao ah-ao. Eyes of a wolf, nose of a boar, ears of an ape, face of a tiger. He roared, raised his thick, powerful arms, clenched his fists, and struck a martial pose. He kicked the body of the now dead soldier alongside the path, then turned to the three prisoners. One after the other, he drove his fist into their faces, each punch accompanied by an Ah-ao! Then he went back and did it all over again. Ah-ao! Ah-ao! Ah-ao! Each punch more devastating than the one before. The last one sent the man with his head pushed down crumpling to the ground. Commissar called a halt to his frenzy: “Speechless Sun, you are not to hit our prisoners!” The mute just grinned and pointed to Shangguan Laidi, then to himself. He walked up to Laidi, grabbing her bony shoulder with his left hand and gesturing to the crowd with his right. The Bird Fairy was looking at the torches, absorbed by their light. Laidi raised her left hand and gave the mute a resounding slap on his right cheek. The mute released her shoulder and rubbed his cheek, looking puzzled, as if not knowing where the blow had come from. First Sister then raised her right hand and gave him another resounding slap on his left cheek, this one harder than the first. The mute rocked on his heels, while First Sister stumbled backward, recoiling from the slap. Her lovely brow arched, her phoenix-like eyes widened, as she said through clenched teeth, “You bastard, you ravaged my little sister!”
“Take her away!” Commander Lu ordered. “She’s not only a turncoat, but a savage as well!”
Soldiers rushed up and grabbed First Sister by the arms. “How stupid can you get, Mother?” she shouted. “Third Sister is a phoenix, yet you married her to that mute!”
Just then a soldier rushed up and announced breathlessly, “Commander, Commissar, Commander Sha’s troops have reached Shalingzi Township.”
“Stay calm, men. I want each company commander to follow our original plan and start laying land mines.”
Commissar Jiang said, “Aunty, for your and the children’s protection, come with us to battalion headquarters.”
“No,” Mother said, shaking her head. “If we’re going to die, it will be on our own kang.”
Commissar Jiang waved a squad of soldiers over next to Mother and another squad into the house. “Dear Lord,” Mother shouted, “open your eyes and see what’s happening.”
Our family was locked into a wing of the Sima house, with sentries at the door. Gas lanterns in the adjoining room were lit, and someone inside was shouting. Beyond the village, the popping of gunshots was endless.
Commissar Jiang walked unhurriedly into our quarters carrying a lamp with a glass shade. The black smoke choked him and made our eyes water. After putting the lamp down on the table, he said, “Why are you all standing? Please, sit, have a seat.” He pointed to chairs lined against the wall. “Aunty,” he said, “this is quite an extravagant place your second son-in-law owns.” He sat down, resting his hands on his knees, and flashed us a sardonic grin. First Sister sat across a table from Commissar Jiang and said with a pout, “Commissar Jiang, inviting a deity in is one thing. Getting rid of it is quite another!” Jiang laughed. “Given all the trouble it took to get the deity here, why would I want to get rid of it?” “Mother,” First Sister said, “go ahead, sit down. They won’t do anything to you.”
“We don’t plan to d
o anything to any of you,” Commissar Jiang said with a smile. “Please, aunty, have a seat.”
Still cradling Zaohua, Mother sat in a chair in the corner. Eighth Sister and I, who were holding on to Mother’s clothes, stood next to her. The young Sima heir leaned his head against Sixth Sister’s shoulder, a ribbon of drool running down his chin. Sixth Sister was so sleepy she rocked back and forth. Mother grabbed her by the arm and told her to sit down. She opened her eyes, looked around, and immediately started to snore. Commissar Jiang took out a cigarette and tapped the end against his thumbnail. Then he searched his pockets, looking for a match. He didn’t find one, and First Sister found that worth celebrating. He walked over to the lamp, stuck the cigarette in his mouth, leaned over the flame, closed his eyes, and began puffing. The flame danced, the tip of the cigarette turned red and glowed. He straightened up, took the lit cigarette out of his mouth, and squeezed his lips shut; two streams of dense smoke snaked out of his nostrils. The thud of explosions somewhere beyond the village rattled the windows. The glow of fires lit up the night sky. Every few seconds we heard the cries or shouts of men out there, sometimes clear as a bell. Commissar Jiang smiled through it all, staring at Laidi as if throwing down a challenge.