Bronze and Sunflower

by Cao Wenxuan

  Nainai would sigh and shake her head. These children would never understand.

  The villagers were growing more and more anxious about the current reports. The loudspeakers in the village and across the river at the Cadre School were constantly broadcasting news about the swarm: how big it was, how far it had gone, how close it was to Damaidi. It was like listening to battle reports in wartime. But, besides worrying, there was nothing they could do. The crops were green and growing; they wouldn’t be ripe enough to harvest before the locusts came. The villagers looked out over the fields, praying and praying that the locusts would fly in a different direction and leave them alone.

  The village children were excited.

  When Bronze was riding on his buffalo, he’d look up at the sky wondering when the locusts were going to come. He thought the adults were ridiculous. How could these fully grown people be so scared of tiny insects? How many locusts had he killed in the grass and reeds and fed to the chickens and ducks at home! Then one day he saw a black cloud approaching in the western sky. It looked ominous, but it turned out to be a flock of sparrows.

  When Sunflower and her friends came out of school, they talked about nothing else. They seemed scared, but at the same time were enjoying the drama. Every now and then one of them would suddenly shout, “The locusts are coming!” and they’d jump, and look up at the sky. And the joker would rock back and forth with laughter. Despite the adults’ warnings, the children couldn’t wait.

  Sunflower kept bothering Nainai. “When are the locusts coming?”

  And Nainai would say, “Do you want them to come and gobble you up?”

  “But locusts don’t eat people!”

  “They eat the crops, though. And if there are no crops left, then what will you eat?”

  That was when Sunflower realized how serious it was. She couldn’t stop thinking about the locusts.

  When they heard that the locusts were thirty kilometres from Damaidi, everyone grew tense. At the Cadre School and in the village, pesticide sprayers stood lined up, ready for battle. Then it was announced that the authorities might send planes to spray pesticide from the air. The adults were excited to hear this. None of them had ever seen airborne chemical warfare against a plague of locusts!

  The children ran around like crazy, spreading the news.

  “Calm down,” said some of the older people. “The locusts are thirty kilometres away. If they fly fast, they might be here in a day and a night. But they might not come to Damaidi at all. It depends which way the wind is blowing. Locusts like to fly against the wind,” they explained. “The stronger the better.”

  The children ran to the river and under trees to check which way the wind was blowing. They were disappointed to find it was blowing towards Damaidi, which meant the locusts might not come. They kept checking throughout the day.

  But during the night, the wind suddenly changed direction and began to pick up strength. In the early hours of the morning, there were shrieks of panic in the village. “The locusts are coming! The locusts are coming!”

  Soon the shouts and screams woke the whole village. People leapt out of bed, ran outside and looked up at the sky. But there was no sky, just a seething mass of screeching locusts blocking out the early morning light. The rising sun was like a large round pancake covered in black sesame seeds. The locusts hovered in the air, circling, swooping and rising, like a living whirlwind.

  Some of the older people knelt on the ridges between the fields, holding smoking sticks of incense in both hands as they faced east, and prayed for the locusts to move on. It was not easy to grow these crops, they said in their prayers. The crops were the lifeblood of the village, and everyone in the village, from youngest to oldest, depended on them. Damaidi was a poor place. If the locusts stopped here, the village would not survive. The sincerity in their eyes was genuine, as was their desperate belief that their prayers could move heaven … or at least shift these little devils.

  “Prayers aren’t going to help us now,” said the children’s parents, who were watching the locusts as they descended.

  The children had never seen anything like this before. They stood there, staring up at the sky, transfixed.

  Sunflower grabbed the corner of Nainai’s jacket. She was terrified. The hum of locusts grew louder and louder. The vibrations caused by their legs and wings rubbing against their bodies produced a sound like steel strings being plucked. When they had descended to a few metres above ground level, the whining rasp was unbearable.

  Then down they poured onto the reeds and the trees and the crops. Down they poured, like rain from a raincloud. They rained and rained, and still more clouds of locusts came, filling the sky. As the children ran about, the locusts hit their faces, making their skin smart.

  When you looked at the locusts hovering above, the brilliant red of their underwings seemed to fill the sky with tiny dots of blood, tiny red flowers. But as soon as they landed, the red dots vanished. Their sandy-coloured bodies disappeared on the sandy-coloured earth, and the whirring rasp ceased. They got straight down to business. Once they started eating, there was no stopping them. They devoured everything in sight.

  Bronze found a broom and thrashed it about in the air. But the locusts were like a fast-flowing river: as soon as he swept some away, more flowed in to fill the space. Bronze beat the air again and again. Eventually he realized his efforts were in vain, and he threw the broom aside and dropped to the ground. He was exhausted.

  Everyone headed for their own plot of land. Each family had to fend for itself, protect its own crops. Everyone was out waving brooms or clothes, shouting and screaming, doing whatever they could to drive the locusts away. But they soon gave up. The locusts kept coming, and they couldn’t care less about the brooms and clothes. As hundreds and thousands of locusts died, hundreds and thousands more flooded in.

  People began to despair.

  Excitement had turned to terror. The children were more fearful than the adults, scared that the locusts would eat the plants, then turn on them. It didn’t matter how many times the adults told them that locusts don’t eat people, the children didn’t believe them. The locusts were crazy and the children didn’t trust them.

  Bronze’s family sat on a ridge overlooking their land. No one spoke. They just watched.

  The locusts devoured their rape and their wheat, as efficiently as if each insect’s work had been allocated in advance. They started at the outer edges of the leaves and ate towards the middle, stripping the crops in no time at all. Their mouths were smeared with fresh green sap, and every so often they’d raise their backsides and excrete dark green pellets that looked like tiny herbal medicine pills.

  Sunflower nestled her chin on Nainai’s arm, and watched quietly.

  The crops grew shorter and shorter, as did the reeds, and the grass. The leaves disappeared from the trees, until the branches were bare, and Damaidi looked as bleak as in winter. The chemical spraying equipment that the Cadre School and the village had prepared was apparently useless. People looked up at the sky, hoping the spraying planes would appear. But they never did. It had been an empty rumour from the start.

  Then, as though an instruction had been issued, the locusts spread their wings and rose up into the sky, all together. The sky suddenly went black, and everything was thrown into shadow. A few hours later, a faint light began to appear around the edges of the swarm. As the locusts moved westwards, the light spread across the sky, until the whole of Damaidi was bathed in sunshine. And the horrific scene was exposed. Damaidi had been razed to the ground.

  Almost none of the villagers had reserve stocks of grain. They had reckoned on the food in the rice vats lasting until the wheat ripened. But there wouldn’t be any wheat this year. As food supplies ran low, so too did the mood of the villagers.

  Worry and weakness began to show. The villagers had to find ways of getting through. A few went to stay with relatives far away. Some of the stronger villagers left their older relatives and
children at home and went to find work at the reservoir fifty kilometres away. One or two went into town to pick refuse off the street, but didn’t tell their friends and family.

  The family thought long and hard. There was only one thing they could do: stay in Damaidi and do the best they could.

  Since the locusts had decimated the crops, the family kept a close eye on the rice vat. They all but counted the grains one by one into the pan. Bronze would forage when he was out grazing the buffalo. Nainai often went out on the ridges between the fields, or by the river, and would bring back wild plants in her basket. From morning till night, the question of food twisted itself round every thought in Baba and Mama’s minds. They went to the paddy field to look for arrowhead corms and water chestnuts that might have been missed. They blew air through last year’s chaff again and again, trying to salvage every last grain of rice.

  The days grew hotter and longer. The sun blazed for hours on end, and the villagers felt they were roasting. The hairs on their skin twitched in the heat to move the air along. It seemed to go on for ever. Everyone longed for the days to be shorter, for night to come sooner, so they could go to bed and not think about eating.

  Across the river, the teams at the Cadre School kept changing. People came. People went. Only a few of the original group who had come with Sunflower and her father were left. Life was hard for them, too, and although they didn’t really have enough for themselves, a few of them arrived with a bag of rice for the family.

  Mama looked at the precious rice. Tears rolled down her face. “Say thank you to your aunties and uncles, Sunflower,” she said quickly.

  Sunflower did as she was told.

  The group looked at Mama and said, “We’re the ones who are grateful – to you and your family.”

  Soon after that, they returned to the city. The villagers heard that everyone at the Cadre School would be leaving.

  Sometimes Sunflower would stand by the river and gaze over at the Cadre School. The roof tiles had once been so red, so bright and new. It had once been so busy with activity. Now the tiles looked old, and the place seemed almost lifeless. Wild grass was creeping in on all sides. The Cadre School seemed to grow further and further away from her.

  Eventually, the last people moved out of the Cadre School and the place was left silent and abandoned amid the endless reeds. By the time the last city people left, the family had completely run out of food. There was not a single grain of rice in the rice vat. And they were not the only family in Damaidi that was coming to the end of the road.

  Everyone said the emergency supply boat would arrive any day. But there was never any sign of it. Most probably the locusts had ravished such a vast area that it was affecting the distribution of supplies, and Damaidi would have to hold out a while longer. Every so often the villagers would go to the river and look into the distance. It was a river of hope, the clear water flowing merrily in the sunshine as it always had.

  One day, Bronze and Sunflower set out with the buffalo towards the reeds. Bronze walked along, leading the buffalo and balancing a spade across his shoulders. Sunflower sat on the buffalo with a basket on her back. They were going to go into the reeds and dig up a basket of tender, sweet reed roots. Bronze knew that the deeper they went into the reeds, the sweeter the roots would be. In the sun and rain they had already grown new leaves; it was hard to believe that a plague of locusts had swept through and stripped them only a few weeks before.

  From the buffalo’s back, Sunflower saw the swaying reeds rising and falling like waves on the sea, and here and there, pools of water shimmering silver in the sunlight. Above the pools, she saw birds in the sky: wild ducks and cranes and birds she couldn’t name.

  She was hungry.

  “Are we nearly there?” she asked Bronze.

  He nodded. He was hungry too. He’d been hungry for a long time, so hungry that his head felt heavy and his feet felt light, and the images before his eyes kept shifting. But he wanted to keep going. He wanted her to taste the best reed roots, the ones that oozed sweet juice the moment you bit into them.

  Sunflower looked around. Damaidi was already disappearing into the distance. They were surrounded by reeds. She felt scared.

  Eventually Bronze brought the buffalo to a stop. He helped Sunflower down, and they started to dig. The reeds here were quite different from those at the edges: they had thicker stalks and wider leaves.

  “These reeds have the best roots,” Bronze told Sunflower, and as soon as his spade sank into the earth they heard it cut crisply through the roots below. He worked the spade a few more times in the earth, until a small pit appeared, with a tender white root in the middle. Sunflower had never tasted reed roots before, and she couldn’t wait.

  Quickly Bronze cut a piece of root, washed it in the river and gave it to her.

  She bit into it. Cool, sweet liquid ran into her mouth. She closed her eyes.

  Bronze smiled. She took another couple of bites then held the root up to his mouth. He shook his head. She held it there stubbornly and gave him no choice. Bronze opened his mouth. When that cool liquid slipped down his throat and into his hungry belly, like Sunflower he closed his eyes. With the sun shining on his eyelids, the world took on a warm, soft orange hue.

  They spent the rest of their time digging up roots, chewing as they worked. Every so often they would glance at each other, their new-found happiness like fresh water running into a dry pond bed, like energy returning to a weak body, a joy that breathed warmth into tired limbs. They bobbed their heads from side to side as they chewed, eating as noisily as they could and enjoying every mouthful. Their white teeth glistened in the sun.

  One for you. One for me. One for me. One for you. It was the most delicious food on earth, and the pleasure was all theirs. They ate their fill and felt almost drunk. They carried on digging; they wanted to take a basketful of roots home so Nainai, Baba and Mama could eat to their hearts’ content too.

  They gave the slightly older roots to the buffalo. It chomped away, leaking juice from the side of its mouth and swinging its tail from side to side. Then it looked up at the sky and gave a long bellow of contentment that made the reed leaves tremble and rustle. Sunflower trailed after Bronze, gathering the roots as he dug them out and putting them in the basket.

  When the basket was almost full, some wild ducks flew overhead and landed not far away. Suddenly an idea came to Bronze and he dropped the spade.

  “Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could catch one of those ducks?” he gestured to Sunflower, then parted the leaves and headed off to where the ducks had landed.

  After a few steps, he stopped and looked back.

  “Stay there,” he told Sunflower. “I won’t be long. Stay there and keep an eye on the reed roots. Don’t move from that spot!”

  She nodded. “Don’t be long.”

  He nodded back, turned round, then disappeared into the reeds.

  “Bronze, don’t be long!” she shouted after him before sitting down next to the basket on a patch of reeds that Bronze had flattened before he ran off. The buffalo, its belly full, was lying on its side on the ground, pulling its lips this way and that, although there was nothing in its mouth. Sunflower laughed at the sight.

  Bronze moved carefully through the reeds. He was so excited by the thought of catching a wild duck! The family hadn’t eaten meat for ages now.

  He caught a glimpse of a water pool. He inched forward, and quietly pushed the reeds apart, until he could see the ducks. There were two ducks and a drake on the water, their beaks tucked under their wings, resting. Perhaps they’d travelled a long way, looking for food, and were tired.

  Bronze focused all his attention on the drake, and for a while he forgot completely about Sunflower and the buffalo. The ducks were without a care in the world, and as he watched them, lost in his own world, time slipped away. He crouched in the reeds, working out a plan. If he could find a stone, he could hurl it and knock one of them out. But there were only reeds here, and
nothing else. He thought again. If only he had a big net, or a hunting rifle. If only he’d been underwater before they landed.

  Those ducks are so fat! thought Bronze, imagining a pan full of fresh duck soup. Saliva drooled from the corner of his mouth and dropped into the grass. He wiped his mouth and smiled at the thought.

  Meanwhile, Sunflower was beginning to get restless. She stood up and looked in the direction that Bronze had gone. The sky had changed. The sun, which had been dancing over the reeds, was now obscured by a dark cloud. The reeds had been green. They were now black. As the wind blew in, the reeds began to sway, and the swaying became more and more vigorous.

  “Where is he?” she asked the buffalo.

  The buffalo seemed troubled.

  In the reeds there is a mysterious black bird that wails when it’s about to rain. It sounds like a child crying in the cruel north wind, and sends a shiver down the spine of all who hear it, as though someone is running a cold hairy hand up and down your back. Sunflower heard it and began to tremble.

  “Bronze, where are you? Why are you taking so long?”

  The bird cried again. It was flying towards her.

  Eventually, she couldn’t stand it any longer, and set off to look for Bronze. She took a few steps, then looked back and told the buffalo, “Stay here and wait for us. You mustn’t eat the roots in the basket, they’re for Nainai, Baba and Mama. Be good.”

  The buffalo looked at her and flapped its big hairy ears.

  And off she ran, calling out Bronze’s name.

  The wind grew stronger. The reeds swished louder, and it seemed as though there was a monster chasing after her. She thought she could hear heavy breathing. “Bronze! Bronze! Where are you?” she shouted at the top of her voice. There was no sign of him anywhere.

  Bronze suddenly remembered Sunflower and the buffalo, and a cold shiver ran through him. He turned and hurried back to find them. The black cloud rolling across the sky took him by surprise.