Bronze and Sunflower

by Cao Wenxuan

  “Bronze! Bronze!” shouted Sunflower.

  Bronze pulled on the rope and the buffalo turned and ran towards her. Bronze leapt down, helped her onto the buffalo and led the way home. There was a swagger to his step. Sunflower had never felt so proud.

  Gayu lay on the ground and wept.

  That evening, Gayu’s father strung him to the tree in front of their house and gave him a thrashing. He had planned to drag his son over to Bronze’s house to sort the problem out, but they’d met someone on the way who had told him that Gayu had let the ducks eat all the corms in Bronze’s family’s arrowhead field. When he heard this, Gayu’s father gave his son a kick in the backside, in front of everyone, then dragged him back home and strung him up to the tree.

  As Gayu hung from the tree, he looked at the moon in the sky and began to cry. “Go away! Get lost!” he yelled at the children who were gathering round. He kicked at them, but in vain. It just made him swing even more.

  There were only a few days left before New Year. The excitement was building. The children were counting down the days, and the adults were busy preparing for the celebrations ahead. They asked the children to help.

  “No going out to play today. We need you to help clean the house.”

  “Go to Auntie’s house and see if anyone’s using the millstone. We need to grind some wheat flour to make pancakes.”

  “Your father’s going to the fish pond. Go and help him carry the creel.”

  The children seemed happy to do as they were told. When the first family killed their pig, its squeals were heard all over Damaidi.

  Some of the village children couldn’t wait any longer, and crept outside with the fireworks their family had put aside for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. They let them off: Bang! Crack! Whoosh!

  The road running past Damaidi was busy with people on their way to and from Youmadi to fetch things for New Year. News spread rapidly through the fields.

  “How much for a jin of fish?”

  “Twice the usual price.”

  “So expensive!”

  “But you’ve got to have fish at New Year. No matter how much it costs.”

  “Is it busy in town?”

  “It’s packed. You can barely move for people. No idea where they’re all coming from.”

  Although they were poor, Bronze’s family was still preparing for New Year. As the house was new, they didn’t need to spring-clean, but still Mama was frantically washing everything that could be washed: bedcovers, clothes, pillows, table, chairs. She spent the day traipsing between the house and the river, and the long rope in front of the house dripped constantly from the washing hung out to dry.

  “Everything but the kitchen stove!” said the people who passed by.

  Mama always kept everything clean. All those years ago, when Nainai had pointed her out to Baba, she’d said, “This girl’s neat and tidy.” And she’d been right.

  Nainai herself couldn’t manage a day without water. She was always at the riverside, gently pushing the floating greenery to the side, then washing her hands and face in the cold water. No matter how old or worn the family’s clothes and bedding might be, they were always clean. Nobody left the house looking anything less than clean and tidy. She might be old, but she never smelled of old age.

  “Clean every day of her life,” said the villagers. “And she insists that everyone in the family is clean and tidy too.”

  It was traditional to have new clothes at New Year. Bronze’s family couldn’t afford new clothes this year, but they would certainly make the most of what they had. They took off the padded jackets that kept them warm through the winter – they were so worn they looked polished – and washed them, and the padded trousers too.

  Bronze and Sunflower had something special to look forward to, however. The family had taken Bronze’s jacket to be dyed in town, and there was going to be a flower-patterned dress for Sunflower.

  The dress was adapted from one of the ones Mama had had when she was first married. She’d only worn it a few times. When she realized they wouldn’t be able to afford to buy cloth to make a new dress, she’d sighed, and thought suddenly of this dress at the bottom of the chest. She’d taken it out and shown it to Nainai.

  “It’s New Year. I want to adapt this dress for Sunflower,” she said.

  “You should hold on to it and wear it yourself,” said Nainai.

  “Oh, it’s too small for me now. And I’m too old to wear such brightly patterned clothes.”

  Nainai was the best seamstress in the village. She’d been helping people cut fabric and make clothes all her life. She’d lost track of how many things she had made. She spent two days adapting Mama’s old dress into a new one for Sunflower. It had a high collar and darts at the waist. Nainai added an elaborate knot fastening at the top, which none of the other villagers knew how to do.

  When Sunflower put the dress on, everyone in the family told her how lovely it was. She didn’t want to take it off.

  “Save it for New Year’s Day,” Mama said.

  “Can’t I keep it on this morning?”

  “Let her wear it this morning,” said Nainai. “But you mustn’t get it dirty.”

  Sunflower had to go to school that morning to rehearse the New Year show. She had a crucial role in the show: she was the host as well as a performer. The teachers had been worried about her not having something new to wear and had been planning, when the time came, to ask if one of the other girls might lend her a dress. So when they saw her in this wonderful new dress, they were thrilled. The teachers and children crowded round to admire it. Sunflower began to feel uncomfortable.

  “It would look perfect with a silver necklace!” said Ms Liu, the teacher in charge of the show.

  Once she’d said it, everyone pictured Sunflower in this beautiful dress, wearing a silver necklace, and in their imagination she looked even more captivating than ever.

  When Ms Liu realized her mind had drifted, she clapped her hands briskly. “OK, everybody, take your places. We need to rehearse.”

  After the rehearsal, Sunflower went home very happy.

  “Did they like the dress?” asked Mama.

  “Yes, everyone loves it!”

  Sunflower was feeling pretty pleased with herself, and as they were eating lunch, she said, “Ms Liu says I’d look even more beautiful with a silver necklace.”

  “You’re beautiful enough already!” said Mama, tapping her on the head with her chopsticks.

  Sunflower giggled.

  But as they sat eating, they could all imagine how lovely she would look wearing a silver necklace with her new dress.

  As usual, the performance would take place on New Year’s Day in the afternoon. Having seen out the old year, the villagers would go to the threshing ground and enjoy the New Year entertainment.

  Since the moment she’d seen Sunflower in the brightly coloured dress, Ms Liu had been wondering where she could find a silver necklace for her to wear as the host of the show. The villagers loved silver jewellery, and lots of the village girls had silver necklaces. At the morning rehearsal on New Year’s Day, Ms Liu asked Lingzi, who was also in the show, if she’d lend her silver necklace to Sunflower for the performance. She nodded, took off the necklace and placed it in Ms Liu’s hand. Ms Liu called Sunflower over, and fastened it around her neck. It looked even better than she had imagined. Ms Liu took a couple of steps back to admire it, and smiled. It would sparkle magnificently at the show that afternoon!

  But after the rehearsal, Lingzi changed her mind. “If my mother hears about this, I’ll be in such trouble. She’s told me over and over again I’m not to let anyone else wear my necklace.”

  Sunflower immediately took off the necklace and returned it to Lingzi. She felt her face burn with embarrassment and shame.

  When she got home, she was still thinking about it.

  “It’s New Year! What’s the matter?” Mama asked her.

  “It’s nothing.” Sunflower smile
d.

  Mama had her doubts. Soon afterwards, Sunflower’s friend Lanzi called at the house.

  Mama said to her, “Sunflower’s been very quiet since she came home from school. Do you know why?”

  Lanzi told her in a whisper about the silver necklace. Mama sighed. Bronze was sitting by the door, apparently lost in thought. But he had heard every word Lanzi said, and every word had moved him. In his eyes, his sister was the most beautiful girl in Damaidi, and he wanted her to be the happiest, luckiest girl in Damaidi too. More than anything, he loved to watch Nainai and Mama helping Sunflower to get ready. He loved to see Nainai comb and plait her hair, then tie ribbons round the ends. And he loved to see Mama take a freshly picked flower and tuck it into her plait. At New Year and other festivals he’d watch Nainai dab her finger in some rouge and make a tiny red dot between Sunflower’s eyebrows, and watch Mama as she painted Sunflower’s nails red with a mixture of alum and balsam. And when he heard people saying how beautiful Sunflower was, he felt so proud. “The mute is such a good brother to her,” said the older villagers.

  Of course, there was nothing Bronze could do about Sunflower not having a silver necklace to wear. There was nothing anyone in the family could do. They simply didn’t have fancy things. They had the sky and the earth, they had fresh water from the river and they were clean from the inside out.

  In the sky above, Bronze heard a dove calling. When he looked up he couldn’t see the dove, but he did notice some icicles hanging from the eaves. They were like bamboo shoots in the spring, but hanging upside down. They were all different lengths, and sparkled in the light. They were enchanting. The longer he looked at them, the more excited he became, till his heart was pounding, like a frog leaping about inside his chest.

  He went to fetch a table, then climbed on top of it, broke off a dozen or so icicles and put them on a large plate. Then he slid the plate under the haystack in front of the house to keep them cold and hidden from view. He went to the water’s edge, cut some reed stems, then brought them back to the house and used scissors to cut them into fine reed tubes. He asked Mama for some strong red thread. Everyone in the family saw he was busy, and thought he was behaving a little strangely, but they didn’t ask any questions. They were used to him doing his own thing.

  Bronze used a wooden stick to smash the icicles into small pieces. They sparkled like diamonds on the plate. He chose some pieces that were roughly the same size, not too big, not too small. Then he picked up a fine reed tube about seven or eight centimetres long, put one end in his mouth and the other on a piece of ice, and blew into the tube. It took a few minutes, but his soft warm breath was like a sharp drill, and gradually bored a tiny hole through the middle of the ice.

  He put the finished piece on another, smaller plate, and started on the next. Clink, clink, went each piece as it landed on the plate.

  Sunflower and Lanzi walked by.

  “What are you doing?” asked Sunflower.

  Bronze looked up and smiled mysteriously. Sunflower didn’t press him, and the two girls went off to play.

  Bronze sat at the bottom of the haystack, patiently working on his project. The icicles he’d chosen were all slightly different shapes and sizes, which made them glisten all the more on the plate. There was a wintery calm about them, and a sense of luxury.

  Bronze blew holes in one piece after another. When his cheeks went numb, he patted them to bring them back to life. As the sun moved across the sky, the intensity and colour of his “diamonds” changed with the light. As the late afternoon sun began its descent in the west, they turned a pale orange colour.

  Before the sun went down, he picked up the red string that Mama had given him, and carefully threaded it through all the icicle beads, then knotted the loose ends together. He held it up with one finger. In the last light of the day, here it was – a necklace made of ice! A long, long necklace, hanging perfectly still in the air. Even Bronze was surprised at its beauty. He held it in front of his chest, but it made him feel girlish and silly, and he laughed in embarrassment.

  He didn’t show it to Nainai and his parents or to Sunflower. Instead, he laid it on the plate and covered it lightly with rice straw.

  That evening, after supper, almost everyone in Damaidi gathered on the threshing ground. The paraffin lamps on the stage had been lit.

  Just as the performers were preparing to go out, Bronze appeared backstage. Sunflower ran over to him. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Bronze held out the plate with both hands. He blew away the straw and revealed the ice necklace. It twinkled in the dim glow of a backstage oil-lamp. Sunflower’s eyes lit up. She couldn’t tell what was lying on the blue-and-white porcelain plate, but she was utterly enchanted by the way it glistened.

  Bronze gestured to her to pick it up. She didn’t dare. So he held the plate in one hand and picked up the ice necklace with the other, then put the plate on the ground.

  “It’s a necklace … made of ice.” He wished she would come closer so he could put it on her.

  “Won’t it melt?” she asked.

  “It’s a cold night, and we’re outside. It’s not going to melt.”

  Sunflower stepped closer and bent her head forward. Bronze placed the ice necklace around her neck. It followed the line of her high collar, then draped down her front. She ran her fingers over it and wondered what it looked like now she was wearing it. It was ice-cold. She felt good. She looked down at it, then glanced sideways at Bronze to ask what he thought.

  “It’s beautiful!” said Bronze, rubbing his hands together in delight. It was more wonderful than he had ever imagined.

  Sunflower looked down again. She hardly dared believe it was real. She felt stupid and overwhelmed, and wanted to take it off. Bronze wouldn’t let her.

  Then Ms Liu called her. “Sunflower, where are you? You’re onstage in a moment.”

  Sunflower hurried over.

  When Ms Liu saw Sunflower, she was mesmerized. She couldn’t take her eyes off the ice necklace.

  “Oh my goodness!” she said, lifting it gently and letting it rest in the palm of her hand. “Where did this come from? What’s it made of?”

  Thinking Ms Liu was cross with her, Sunflower glanced back at Bronze and began to undo the necklace.

  “Stop! Don’t take it off!” said Ms Liu, and pushed her gently onto the stage. The time had come.

  In the lamplight, the ice necklace sparkled a never-ending array of colours. Nobody knew what it was made of, but the light it gave out was so beautiful, so pure, so mysterious and elegant, the audience was entranced.

  For a moment, time stood still. Both onstage and offstage, everything went as quiet as the deepest forest. Sunflower wondered if the necklace had ruined the show. She stood, blinded by the light, unsure what to do.

  Then someone in the audience started to clap. Immediately, others joined in, and then more, until everyone was clapping, onstage and off. On this clearest of nights, the clapping sounded like heavy rain.

  Sunflower spotted Bronze – he was standing on a stool at the back. His eyes were gleaming, black and shiny.

  Her eyes misted over and for a few moments her vision was blurred.

  A Plague of Locusts

  When Sunflower was in the final term of third grade, in the late spring and early summer, a plague of locusts invaded Damaidi and the whole area around.

  Before the locusts came, life in Damaidi was as it had always been. The villagers’ lives were busy at times, and slow at others. The cows, sheep, pigs and dogs, and the chickens, ducks, geese and doves made their usual noises and did their usual things. Those that swim, swam. Those that fly, flew. The blue sky above Damaidi looked fresh from morning to night, and every day it was as if it was bluer than usual. White cotton-wool clouds floated along above the fields.

  This year’s crops promised to be better than ever. Rape fields bordered fields of wheat, patterning the land in yellow and green. The rape flowers blossomed, one cluster after a
nother, and there were bees and butterflies everywhere. The wheat grew thick and green, with its bushy squirrel-tail ears. The farmers of Damaidi were expecting a truly golden harvest. They wandered lazily through the village alleys, and along the ridges between the fields, as though they were half-asleep or half drunk.

  But sixty kilometres away, swarms of locusts were filling the sky and covering the earth, gobbling up everything in sight. By the time they finished and moved on, the sky and earth were bare.

  The reed lands, which could turn suddenly humid or dry, were a perfect breeding ground for locusts. The historical records told of numerous locust plagues here. The older people in the village could tell stories so horrific they would make your hair stand on end.

  “The locusts passed over like a barber’s knife, razing everything to the ground. They didn’t leave a single blade of grass.”

  “When the locusts flew in, they cleaned out the house, including our clothes and our books. If they’d had teeth, they’d have eaten us, too!”

  There were numerous instances of plagues of locusts in the county records:

  SONG DYNASTY, 3rd year of the Chunxi reign (1176) – a plague of locusts

  YUAN DYNASTY, 19th year of the Zhiyuan reign (1282) – a swarm of locusts blocked out the sun and stripped the crops as they passed through

  YUAN DYNASTY, 6th year of the Dade reign (1302) – locusts covered the land and ate all the grain

  MING DYNASTY, 15th year of the Chenghua reign (1479) – drought, locusts ate all the grain, many people fled

  MING DYNASTY, 16th year of the Chenghua reign (1480) – drought for the second year in a row, emergency, no crops or grain were harvested, food rationed to one cup of millet per person…

  And so the list went on.

  It had been such a long time since the last plague that people thought they were over for good. The children had seen locusts, but when Nainai told them about vast swarms, they didn’t believe her, and came out with silly things like, “Hens and ducks quack and cluck; they’ll eat the locusts, then lay eggs.” Or, “No problem! I’ll swat them like flies! Splat! Splat! Splat! Or light a fire and burn them to death.”