by Mo Yan
“I did nothing illegal,” Gao Ma defended himself, snapping his head to the side to launch the blood from his nose. “Jinju never registered as Liu Shengli’s wife, so she’s not legally married to anybody. You tried to coerce her into marrying Liu Shengli in violation of the Marriage Law. If anybody should be put away, it’s you people!”
Deputy Yang curled his lip and said to the Fang brothers, “That’s some sharp tongue he’s got.”
Second Brother drove his fist into Gao Ma’s gut. Oof! Gao Ma grunted as he doubled over, stumbled forward a couple of steps, and crumpled to the ground.
The brothers wasted no time. Second Brother began kicking Gao Ma in the ribs and back, and since he practiced martial arts nightly on the threshing floor, every kick sent his victim rolling and screaming for dear life. Elder Brother tried to get in a few kicks of his own, but his gimp leg would barely support his weight, and by the time his good leg was cocked and ready to go, Second Brother had already sent Gao Ma rolling out of the way. Eventually he landed a lack on target, but with hardly any steam behind it; worse, he fell down, and lay on the ground for the longest time before climbing to his feet.
“Stop hitting him! I begged him to take me away!” Jinju pleaded as she struggled to her feet by grasping a jute stalk. But when her weight settled on the injured leg, searing pains shot up to her brain, and she fell again, dry shrieks emerging from her throat. She was finally reduced to crawling from one jute plant to the next.
Meanwhile, Gao Ma was rolling in the dirt, his face streaked with blood and mud. Second Brother kept kicking him mercilessly, as if he were a sandbag, and each kick was met with shouts of “Kick him again!” from Elder Brother, who leapt in the air as if he were on a trampoline. “Harder! Kill the jackass bastard!” Elder Brother’s face was twisted; tears clouded his eyes.
After crawling to the roadside, Jinju propped herself up and took a couple of halting steps forward, only to be met with a flying drop kick in the belly, delivered by Second Brother. She groaned as she hit the ground and rolled back into the field.
Gao Ma, now bereft of the power of speech, was still able to roll, which was just fine with the sweaty Second Brother, whose kicks kept thudding into him.
“You’ve killing him!” Jinju had crawled back to the road.
Deputy Yang ran up, placed himself between Second Brother and Gao Ma, and said, Okay, Number Two, that’s enough!”
Gao Ma had rolled to the edge of the road, and he burrowed his face in the mud of the pepper field, his bound arms twitching above purple fingers that looked like toadstools. A worried Deputy Yang walked up, rolled him onto his back, and stuck a finger under his nose to see if he was still breathing.
They’ve killed Gao Ma! Jinju saw thousands of golden spots, which changed color to form a lovely green string arching in the air above her. She reached out, but couldn’t catch them. Sometimes she thought she had one, but when she opened her hand it flew off. A sickening sweet taste floated up from deep in her throat, and when she opened her mouth a red clump emerged and landed on a withered branch in front of her. I’m coughing up blood! At first she was scared. I’m coughing up blood! Then she felt blessed: her fears, her worries, her troubles, all evaporated like dissipating vapor, leaving a single honeyed sorrow encircling her heart.
“You’re a fucking avenger!” Deputy Yang cursed Second Brother. “You were supposed to teach him a lesson, not kill him.”
“You called me and my brother worthless trash.”
“Because you don’t know how to watch over your own sister. I didn’t mean you could kill him.”
“Is he really dead? Is he?” Elder Brother asked in a panicky voice. “Deputy Yang … it wasn’t me who kicked him.”
“Just what are you saying?” Second Brother asked his brother, glaring through bloodshot eyes. “The whole idea was to get you married.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“Cut out the squabbling,” Deputy Yang cut in, “and move him onto the roadway.”
The brothers went into the pepper field, picked Gao Ma up by the head and feet, and carried him out to the roadway. They no sooner had him laid out than Elder Brother plopped down on the ground, panting breathlessly.
“Hurry up and untie him,” Deputy Yang ordered.
The brothers exchanged glances, neither saying a word, though they seemed disposed to. Second Brother rolled Gao Ma over, facedown, while Elder Brother hobbled over and tried to loosen the knot. Through the encircling green spots, Elder Brother’s large hands, with their gnarled, bony fingers, looked to Jinju like ribbed fans. He was too shaky to untie the knot. “Use your teeth!” Deputy Yang screamed at Elder Brother, who looked up with a pathetic expression on his face before kneeling next to Gao Ma and trying to loosen the stubborn knot with his teeth, like a scrawny mongrel gnawing on a bone. When he finally managed to work the knot free, Deputy Yang pushed him out of the way and jerked up on the rope, as if trying to rip a tendon out of Gao Ma’s body. Once the rope was removed, he rolled Gao Ma onto his back and again stuck a finger under his nose.
Jinju’s heart began to shrink, and she shuddered as a breath of cold air rose inside. They’ve killed him—and all because of me! Elder Brother Gao Ma… my dear Elder Brother Gao Ma… Jinju’s shrinking heart relaxed again and, amid her immersion in the blessing of honeyed sorrow, more sickening sweet stuff rose slowly in her throat. Jute branches and leaves rustled crisply; the sunlight was blinding bright; tens of thousands of warm red sparks danced wildly in Pale Horse County’s pepper fields; and a chestnut colt bounded out of the field, flicking its tail friskily as it raced among sparks that glinted off its metal shoes like shiny precious gems. Bells around its neck played a crisp, melodic tune.
The swarthy skin on Gao Ma’s swollen, puffy face shone under all that blood and mud. He lay on the ground, legs straight, arms lying stiffly at his sides. Deputy Yang laid his ear against Gao Ma’s chest. Jinju heard Gao Ma’s powerful, heavy heartbeat, which matched the rhythm of the colt’s hoof beats: the hoofbeats were the pounding of a small drum, the heartbeats the thumping of a big one.
Please don’t die, Elder Brother Gao Ma. Don’t leave me here alone, Jinju moaned as she watched the chestnut colt race up to the road, then lope back and forth along the edge of the pepper field, the sparks flying from its metal shoes making it appear to be prancing on water. The crisp tinkling of the bells around its neck was long and drawn-out. At the edge of the pepper field it slowed to a more hesitant gait and turned its blue eyes toward the calmly smiling face of Gao Ma.
“You boys are lucky,” Deputy Yang said as he stood up. “He’s still alive. If he had died, you d be rotting in jail for a long time—and I mean both of you!”
“What now, Eighth Uncle?” Elder Brother asked helplessly.
“Now it’s my turn to suffer over this business of yours,” Deputy Yang grumbled, taking a small opaque vial from his pocket and waving it under the brothers’ eyes. “This is Yunnan medicinal powder. We’ll give it to our young friend here.” He knelt down, removed the stopper from the vial, and dumped a bright red pellet into his palm. Pausing briefly for effect, he said, “Open his mouth.”
Again the brothers exchanged glances. Second Brother signaled Elder Brother to stick his dark fingers into Gao Ma’s mouth and pry it open. Holding the pellet between his fingers, Deputy Yang paused dramatically once more before reluctantly inserting it between Gao Ma’s lips.
“Little Guo,” Deputy Yang shouted to his driver, “bring the canteen.”
The driver climbed lazily out of the Jeep and walked up holding an army canteen whose yellow surface was peeling. A semicircular rut etched in his cheek showed that he had been sleeping facedown on the steering wheel.
Deputy Yang poured some water into Gao Ma’s mouth. It reeked of alcohol.
Then the four men stood over Gao Ma like dark pillars, all eight eyes glued to his face. The chestnut colt ran like the wind, hooves thudding
loudly, sparks from its shoes crackling in the air; the circle it described was large enough to embrace Jinju, and as it passed through the field, stalks and branches bent before it like softly yielding willow twigs. Green spots careened off its glossy hide. Little colt… little colt… she wanted to wrap her arms around its satiny neck.
Gao Ma’s hand twitched.
“Good,” Deputy Yang exclaimed. “Excellent. That Yunnan medicinal powder deserves its reputation. Damned good stuff.”
Gao Ma’s eyes opened a crack. Deputy Yang bent down and said in a genial tone, “You’re lucky to be alive, my boy. If not for my Yunnan medicinal powder, you’d be off meeting with Karl Marx right about now.”
Gao Ma lay with a peaceful, happy smile on his face. He managed a barely perceptible nod to Deputy Yang.
“Now what, Eighth Uncle?” Elder Brother asked.
A rumble emerged from Gao Ma’s chest as he pulled his arms back and rested on his elbows, slowly raising his head and body until he was in a sitting position. Frothy, blood-streaked threads oozed from the corners of his mouth. Elder Brother Gao Ma … dear Elder Brother Gao Ma … the chestnut colt is touching your face with its downy muzzle … it’s weeping. Gao Ma’s head fell back. Slowly he raised it again. The chestnut colt is licking Elder Brother Gao Ma’s face with its golden tongue.
“He can take a beating,” Deputy Yang said as he looked down at the now squatting Gao Ma. “Do you know why this happened?” he asked with a ring of genuine appreciation.
Gao Ma smiled and nodded. He’s looking at me. There’s a smile on Elder Brother Gao Ma’s face. The chestnut colt is licking the traces of blood from his face.
“Are you going to try to trick our sister in going off with you again?” asked Elder Brother, limping in place.
Gao Ma smiled and nodded.
Second Brother cocked his leg to kick Gao Ma again.
“Number Two!” Deputy Yang shouted. “You stupid bastard!”
Elder Brother picked up Gao Ma’s bundle and loosened the knot with his teeth, spilling the contents, including the envelope, onto the ground. He got down on his knees and held the envelope down.
“Number One, don’t do it.”
After wetting his finger in his mouth, Elder Brother began counting the bank notes.
“Number One, you shouldn’t be doing that.”
“Eighth Uncle, he corrupted our sister and used up your costly medicine. For that he must pay.”
Elder Brother then dug through Gao Ma’s pockets with his damp hand, fishing out some crumpled ten-fen notes and four shiny aluminum one-fen coins. The chestnut colt reared its head and knocked the coins from his hand. Elder Brother scurried after them, tears filling his eyes.
CHAPTER 9
In the old society the people paid for official lawlessness,
In the new order justice is supposed to take root and grow.
County Administrator Wang thought he was above the hw;
Driver Zhang slipped through the net after a fatal accident….
—from a ballad sung at police headquarters by Zhang Kou
on behalf of Fourth Uncle, who had been struck down
on the road after trying to sell his garlic
1.
It was noon. A dazed Fourth Aunt lay in bed, vaguely aware that someone was tugging on her arm. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and was face to face with a young policewoman in a beaked cap and white uniform.
“Why aren’t you eating, Number Forty-seven?” the guard asked. She had big brown eyes and long, fluttering lashes in a face that was as white and round as a goose egg. Fourth Aunt was instinctively drawn to this lovely girl, who removed her hat to fan the air. “We expect you to behave yourself in here and own up to all the charges. Remember, ‘Leniency to those who confess, severity to those who refuse/ Now it’s mealtime, so eat.”
Fourth Aunt’s heart was saturated with warmth, and tears pooled in her aging eyes. She nodded spiritedly. The guard’s glossy black hair, parted on the side, tomboylike, highlighted her soft white complexion.
“Miss …” Fourth Aunt grimaced; she wanted to say something but was too choked up to get the words out.
The guard put her hat back on. “Okay, hurry up and eat. You must trust the government. A good person has nothing to worry about, and a bad person has no place to hide.”
“Miss … I’m a good person. Let me go home,” Fourth Aunt said tearfully.
“You sure talk a lot for an old lady,” the frowning guard said, dimples creasing her cheeks. “It’s not up to me whether you get out of here or not.”
Fourth Aunt wiped her nose with her sleeve, then her tear-filled eyes. “How old are you, miss?”
The guard glared, showing a mean side. “Don’t ask about things that don’t concern you, Number Forty-seven!”
“I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re just so pretty, I thought I’d ask.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“No reason.”
“Twenty-two,” the guard said shyly.
“About the same as my daughter, Jinju, who was born in the Year of the Dragon. I wish that useless daughter of mine could be more
like—”
“I said hurry up and eat. After you’re finished I want you to think about what you did, then make a clean breast of things.”
“What is it you want me to think about, miss?”
“Why were you arrested?”
“I don’t know.” Fourth Aunt grimaced again and was soon crying. “I was home eating,” she said between sobs. “Grainy flatcakes and spicy salted vegetables. Someone called at the gate. When I walked outside, they grabbed my armsI was so scared I just closed my eyes. The next thing I knew, my wrists were locked in shiny bracelets.… Daughter was inside crying. She’s going to have her baby any day now. Laugh if you want, but I’ll tell you anyway—she’s not even married. I screamed, but two officers dragged me away, and another one, taller than you but not as pretty, and not nearly as nice—very mean, in fact— started kicking me—”
“That’s enough,” the guard broke in impatiently. “Hurry up and eat.”
“Am I upsetting you, miss?” Fourth Aunt asked. “With all the criminals out there waiting to be arrested, why waste time on me?”
“You didn’t help demolish the government offices?”
“Those were government offices?!” an astonished Fourth Aunt exclaimed. “I didn’t know that. I had to get help somewhere. My husband—still strong and in good health—was run over by their car….” She wept. “Miss … had to get help somewhere
“Stop that crying,” the guard said. “And stop calling me ‘miss.’ Call me ‘Guard’ or ‘Officer,’ like the others do.”
“Our sister over there said I should call you ‘Officer’ and not ‘miss,’ “ Fourth Aunt admitted, pointing to her cellmate, who was lying facedown on her gray cot. “But I forgot. Getting old, memory’s no good.”
“Eat, I said,” the guard insisted.
“Mi—Officer.” Fourth Aunt pointed to the blackened steamed bun and bowl of garlic broth. “Do I have to pay for this food? Do I need ration stamps?” *
Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, the guard said, “Just eat. You don’t need money and you don’t need ration stamps. Is that why you weren’t eating, because you thought you had to pay?”
“You couldn’t know, miss, but when my husband was killed, our two useless sons fought like cats and dogs over family property until there wasn’t anything left
The guard turned to go, but before she was out the door, Fourth Aunt asked, “Do you have a husband picked out yet?”
“That’s enough, Number Forty-seven, you crazy old hag!”
“Girls today sure have short fuses. An old lady isn’t even allowed to talk.”
The guard slammed the cell door shut and walked off, her high heels clicking resoundingly down the corridor, all the way to the far end.
Loud squeaks bounced off the rafters above the corridor, sounding like an old wa
terwheel. Crickets set up a racket in trees out in the yard. Fourth Aunt sighed and picked up the blackened bun, sniffing it before tearing off a chunk and dunking it in the now cold garlic broth; she stuffed it into her nearly toothless mouth and began munching noisily. The middle-aged woman on the opposite cot rolled over to stare at the ceiling. A long sigh escaped from her lips.
“You’ve hardly touched your food, Sister-in-Law,” Fourth Aunt said to the woman, who opened her clouded eyes wide, shook her head, and frowned.
“I’ve got such a lump in the pit of my stomach I can’t force another bite down,” she said wearily. The uneaten half of her steamed bun lay on the gray stand beside her. Green bottleneck flies had settled on it.
“These are made from stale flour,” Fourth Aunt said as she ate her bun. “They taste like mildew. But they’re still better than grainy flatcakes.”
Her cellmate said nothing as she lay motionless on her cot, staring at the ceiling.
After swallowing the last of her bun and slurping down the garlic broth, Fourth Aunt stared at the uneaten half of the other woman’s steamed bun, which was still feeding flies on the gray table. “Sister-in-Law,” she said bashfully, “I’ve still got some drops of oil in my bowl here, and it’d be a shame not to sop them up. What do you say I use a little of the skin from your bun?”
The woman nodded. “You can have the whole thing, Auntie.”
“I can’t take food out of your mouth,” Fourth Aunt demurred.
“I’m not going to eat it, so you go ahead.”
“Well, if you say so.” She climbed down off her cot, edged over to the table, and snatched up the fly-specked bun. “It’s not important who eats it,” Fourth Aunt said, “so long as it isn’t wasted.”
The woman nodded. Then, without warning, two yellow tears slipped from the corners of her gray eyes and down her cheeks.