Bronze and Sunflower

by Cao Wenxuan

  The ducks were surprised too. They flapped their wings and took to the sky, leaving a trail of waves behind them.

  Bronze glanced up at them. He didn’t care about the ducks any more. He was worried about Sunflower and the buffalo. Panting all the way, he ran back to where he had left them.

  When he got there, dripping with sweat, he found only the buffalo and the basket of roots. He stretched out his arms and spun round and round, trying to find her. But all he could see were reeds … and more and more reeds. He looked at the buffalo. The buffalo looked back at him. Sunflower must have gone looking for him, he thought. He ran like crazy. The reeds crashed and slapped as he passed, until he was back at the duck pool. But there was no sign of Sunflower. He wanted to scream and shout, but no sound came out. He turned and ran back.

  The buffalo was already on its feet, looking restless. Bronze charged into the reeds again, running as fast as he could. The reeds snagged his clothes and scratched his face, legs and arms, dragging lines across his skin.

  As he ran, all he could think about was Sunflower. Sunflower sitting on the stone slab beneath the old tree; Sunflower reading and writing by the lantern lights he had made for her; Sunflower teaching him to write in the earth with a stick; Sunflower running and leaping along the ridge between the fields with her school bag on her back; Sunflower laughing; Sunflower crying.

  Then he trod on a piece of reed stubble. It pierced almost all the way through his foot. Pain surged through him, so intense it brought him out in a cold sweat. His body was weak from living on wild vegetables. He’d used up his energy running. Everything went black. He staggered and fell.

  He came to when it started to rain, and cold threads of water trickled over him. He scrambled to his feet. As he looked up, a whip of blue lightning slashed through the sky. It left a momentary scar then faded. Then there was a crash of thunder so loud it seemed the sky would split and the ground would crack.

  The rain was pouring down now. Bronze struggled on, dragging his bleeding foot.

  Sunflower had lost all sense of direction. She was no longer running, but walking slowly, sobbing and calling out her brother’s name. “Bronze! Bronze!”

  She trembled at every bolt of lightning and shuddered at every crash of thunder. Rain swept her hair across her face. Her clothes were soaked and clung to her body, now pitifully thin.

  She didn’t know how big the reed marsh was. She just knew that Bronze and the buffalo were waiting for her, and that at home Nainai, Baba and Mama were waiting for all three of them. She couldn’t stop. She had to keep walking until she reached the edge of the marsh.

  She had no idea that she was walking deeper and deeper into the vast reed marsh, that the marsh was swallowing her up.

  Bronze returned to where they had been digging. This time the buffalo had gone too, and there was just the basketful of roots. He collapsed, exhausted. Roaring thunder rolled across the sky, and a mist of rain covered the earth.

  Back in Damaidi, Nainai, Baba and Mama were walking around, calling out their children’s names. Nainai was out with her stick, her silvery hair glistening wet. She looked as thin as an old willow tree, swaying by the river. The wind and the rain muffled her elderly voice.

  She saw Gayu on the river in his bark rain cape, punting his little boat, driving his ducks home.

  “Have you seen our Bronze and Sunflower?” Nainai asked.

  Gayu couldn’t hear her. He tried to keep the boat still so he could listen, but the ducks were chasing after raindrops, and swimming too far out, and he had to leave Nainai and go after them.

  When Bronze woke again, the rain seemed to be easing a little. He struggled to sit up. He watched the reeds bowing and rising until his eyes glazed over. He was losing hope. If he couldn’t find Sunflower, then he couldn’t go home. Rain slid from his shiny black hair onto his face. The world in front of him blurred. He let his head hang. It felt as heavy as a millstone. His chin pressed into his chest.

  In his dream he saw Sunflower floating about in front of him, his sister Sunflower, a sunflower growing in the field.

  Was that the buffalo he could hear?

  Bronze looked up, heard another cry and realized it came from near by. He got unsteadily to his feet. Then he followed the sounds. He saw the buffalo running towards him, the reeds parting to let it though, like water parting around a boat. And there was Sunflower, riding on its back!

  As Bronze fell to his knees, a spray of water splashed up.

  When the rain stopped and the sky cleared, Bronze limped out of the reed marsh, leading the buffalo. Sunflower sat on its back, carrying the basket of roots. The rain had washed them as clean as ivory.

  The grain relief boat had set out on its journey of several hundred kilometres, but after a long period without rain, the river was low, and the boat could only move slowly. With every day that passed, the villagers tightened their belts even more.

  Bronze and Sunflower were getting very thin. Their eyes, which had been large to start with, were now bulging. Their teeth looked very white in their gaunt faces and glistened with hunger. It was the same with the adults.

  The children now walked instead of running and leaping. They had no energy. If the adults saw them running and jumping they’d tell them not to. “Don’t jump about, you need to save your energy!”

  Of course, it was more about saving food.

  The life seemed to be draining out of Damaidi. The villagers looked sick. When they talked, they sounded like invalids. When they walked, they reeled from side to side. But the weather was good, and there was sunshine every day. Plants and trees were thriving, there was green everywhere. Birds were flying in the sky, calling and singing all day long. But the villagers didn’t have the heart to appreciate any of this. They didn’t have the strength. The children went to school as usual, and read their books as usual, but the beautiful rise and fall of their voices as they read out loud got weaker and weaker until they were no longer capable of reading aloud; their thin bellies weren’t up to it. People were worried. They were sweating with anxiety. When the hunger was at its worst, they thought about gnawing on stones. Everyone in the village, young and old, was in low spirits.

  The family kept going and put on brave faces. No one said they were hungry. Even when they went without food at night, none of them would complain. They kept the house and themselves cleaner than ever. Bronze and Sunflower never left the house without clean faces and clean clothes. Nainai still went to the riverside to wash her hands and face in fresh, cold water as she had always done. She never had a strand of silver hair out of place nor a spot of dirt on her clothes.

  But now, when she walked about in the sunshine her loose clothes flapped in the breeze like wings.

  Bronze and Sunflower were good at foraging for food. In the wide open fields, in the countless rivers and streams that ran through the reed lands, there was always something they could eat. Bronze was good at remembering the places where he had found food before. When he took Sunflower along they almost always found some tasty surprise.

  One day, Bronze was steering a large wooden boat towards the bay in the river. He’d remembered a big stretch of reeds by the bay, and within it a small water pool where wild water chestnuts grew. He took Sunflower with him, thinking they could eat some as they picked, then take some back for Nainai, Baba and Mama. This time, however, they found nothing: the water chestnut plants were there, but someone had already pulled the corms from the mud.

  They steered the boat back towards home. Bronze needed to rest, so he lay down in the cabin. Sunflower lay down beside him. In the light breeze, the boat slowly started to drift. They could hear the water slapping against the bottom. It was a clear and soothing sound, like a musical instrument being plucked. White clouds drifted in the sky.

  “Just like candyfloss,” said Sunflower.

  The white clouds kept shifting shape.

  “That one’s like a steamed bun,” she added.

  Bronze traced the outline
with his finger.

  “That’s not a steamed bun, it’s an apple.”

  “No, it’s a pear.”

  “There’s a sheep.”

  “A herd of sheep.”

  “I wish Baba would kill a sheep.”

  “The biggest, fattest sheep.”

  “I want three bowls of mutton broth.”

  “I’ll have four.”

  “I’ll have five.”

  “I’ll add a spoonful of chilli.”

  “I’ll add a handful of coriander.”

  “Come on, drink up, don’t let it go cold.”

  “Let’s drink it all up!”

  “Let’s drink it all up!”

  And with that, they started to gulp down the imaginary soup, swallowing noisily. When they were finished, they smacked their lips, and licked round their mouths with their tongues.

  “Finished,” said Sunflower.

  “Have an apple.”

  “No, I’ll have a pear, they’re juicier.”

  “I want an apple first, and then a pear.”

  “I want two apples, then two pears.”

  “You’ll burst!”

  “Then I’ll walk on the ridges between the fields. Do you remember the time I ate too many water chestnuts and you took me to walk on the ridges, and we walked until it was dark, and when I went home I ate another one?”

  The clouds in the sky were forever changing shape. Bronze and Sunflower saw fields of yellow corn, golden waves rolling across paddy fields, a towering persimmon tree, a chicken, a goose, a fish, a vast pan of bubbling soya milk, an enormous watermelon, a huge cantaloupe…

  Their feast was so delicious, their conversation so delightful. They ate and ate to their hearts’ content, and happily drifted off.

  One day, when Sunflower came home from school, she had just stepped inside when everything went black, her legs turned to jelly and she collapsed on the floor.

  Nainai hurried over.

  “What’s wrong, precious?” she asked as she helped her granddaughter up. Sunflower had hit her cheek on the door frame, and she was bleeding. Mama carried her to bed. When she saw how pale Sunflower was, Mama went to the kitchen and quickly boiled up some rice soup. Luckily, she had just borrowed a cup of rice from a neighbour.

  When Bronze came back from grazing the buffalo, he took a fishing net and, without saying a word to anyone, went off by himself to the reed marsh. He found the pool but there was nothing floating on the surface, just the reflection of the sky.

  The ducks have gone, he thought. He was disappointed, but he sat down behind the reeds and told himself to wait patiently. They’re probably out looking for food; they’re bound to be back soon. He broke off a couple of reed leaves and folded them into two little boats. He glanced up at the sky to check all was calm, then stepped out of the reeds, placed the boats on the water and hurried back to his hiding place. When he pushed the reeds apart, he could see them moving along the river in the breeze.

  The sun rose higher and higher, but there was still no sign of any wild ducks.

  “Please come back. Please come back,” Bronze prayed.

  At about midday he was thrilled to see a large flock appear in the sky. But they didn’t land, they just carried on flying. He sighed, picked up the net and prepared to move on.

  Then more ducks appeared. Bronze followed their every move. They looked familiar. Yes, they were the ones he had seen the day Sunflower got lost! They circled in the air, then began their descent. Wild ducks are clumsy creatures with heavy bodies and short wings. They landed on the water with the grace of a dozen bricks. Splat! Splat! Splat!

  They made a quick check of their surroundings, and once they were satisfied, they relaxed and began to swim about. They flapped their wings and quacked a bit, using their flat beaks to splash up water to wash their feathers and to glug-glug-glug it down their throats.

  The drake was big and fat. His head was a dark purple colour that shimmered like soft satin. The females swam near by, each one doing as she pleased. There was a beautiful little duck that seemed to be the drake’s favourite, and every time she swam off, he would follow her. They would preen each other, combing their beaks through the other’s feathers and dashing their beaks in the water as though they were trying to say something. After a while, the drake flapped his wings and climbed on her back. But he was so heavy that her body was pushed underwater, only her head remaining above the surface. It looked a little strange but she didn’t put up any resistance, just remained like that, half in, half out of the water, until eventually he slipped off. The pair spent some time shaking out their wings, looking pleased with themselves. Then the drake flapped his wings and flew off.

  Bronze was worried that the other ducks would follow him, but they continued floating around, doing what ducks do. The drake circled above the pool, then landed back on the water with a splash. Little drops of water caught the light as they rolled down his back.

  Bronze grabbed his net and waited for his moment. The only way he could catch a duck was to wait until they were all playing underwater, or diving for shrimps and snails, then cast his net over the water and wait for them to resurface. One or two were bound to get caught, especially if they poked their heads through the netting.

  But the ducks showed no interest in diving underwater. While they were floating about, Bronze’s legs began to go numb, his head felt a bit fuzzy and things were going black before his eyes. He couldn’t hold out any longer, and lay down for a rest.

  After a while, Bronze’s strength was restored. The ducks’ energy seemed to have been restored too, and they were beginning to swim about and explore. Two of the younger ones started a game, one teasing, the other chasing. When the chaser got too close, the teaser went head-down/bottom-up, paddled its orange feet in the air, then disappeared altogether. The chaser swam round in a circle, then vanished underwater too. The others gradually joined in the fun until the pool was busy with ducks popping up and plunging down.

  Bronze was on tenterhooks. He held the net tightly. His hands were slippery with sweat and his legs were trembling. He told himself to stop, but his legs wouldn’t listen and the shuddering continued. When his legs trembled, his whole body shook. And when his body shook, the reeds shook too, making a rustling sound. He closed his eyes. It took a lot of effort, but gradually he brought his legs under control.

  Suddenly the water went completely still. All the ducks were underwater. This was Bronze’s moment. He was almost certain to catch a few. But he hesitated, and by the time he was ready to cast the net, the ducks were already popping up again. He wished he’d been faster. Now he’d have to wait for another chance.

  Two hours passed before the next opportunity came. All the ducks were underwater except for one, which was floating on the surface. Bronze used no subtlety at all. He charged out of the reeds, spun round and cast his net. It opened out like a flower in the sky and skim-landed on the water. The startled duck quacked and flew. It seemed as though the other ducks had heard the alarm, and they began to appear at the surface. Not one of them came up inside the net. They flapped their wings as hard as they could and flew off. Bronze watched them, his hopes dashed.

  The water under the net was as still as could be. Clouds in the sky floated across the surface. Bronze’s head hung low as he walked into the water to gather his net. Then he noticed two lines of bubbles rising below it. As the bubbles became bigger and bigger, the net seemed to move and rise up from the surface. Bronze’s heart pounded like a wooden mallet inside his chest. The water began to break into waves, and it was clear that some living thing was struggling for its life. Bronze went over to see what it was.

  It was a wild duck. Its head and wings caught in the net, it was using all its strength to break free. Bronze recognized it as the drake he’d been watching earlier. When the bird saw the sky, he beat his wings furiously, raising the net as he did so.

  Bronze threw himself forward and tried to push the net back underwater. He pressed forwar
d with all his body weight. He could feel the drake struggling. He felt terrible, but he kept the net pressed down until the water went completely still.

  The other ducks hadn’t gone far. They were circling above and crying out.

  When Bronze hauled the net in, the drake was dead. He was a handsome creature. His eyes were like shiny black beans, his beak caught the light like a translucent horn. There were sleek feathers around his neck, his plumage was rich and his golden feet were clean and shiny. Bronze looked at him, and felt so sad. The other ducks eventually flew off. He hauled the net over his shoulder and ran from the marsh.

  As he passed along the river, people saw him and asked, “Hey, boy, what’s in your net?”

  He opened it proudly and let them see his fat wild duck. He gave them a big grin, then turned and sped home like a tornado.

  It was late afternoon when Bronze arrived home. The house was empty. Nainai was out digging wild vegetables, Sunflower was at school and Mama and Baba were still out working in the fields. Bronze took the duck out of the net, felt its weight in his hands and took a good look at it. He decided to give them a surprise. He plucked the feathers, wrapped them in a lotus leaf (they could sell them later) and pushed it under the bottom of the haystack. Then he took a knife, a chopping board and an earthenware bowl to the riverside, cut open the duck, cleaned out its insides, chopped it up and put the pieces in the bowl.

  Back at the house, he tipped the pieces of chicken into a pan, half-filled the pan with water and lit a fire in the stove. He wanted to have a delicious duck soup ready for his family when they came home.

  The first person to arrive home was Sunflower. The village children had been developing a very keen sense of smell recently, and she had picked up the mouth-watering aroma from a long way away. Was it coming from their kitchen? She looked up, and sure enough, there was smoke rising from their chimney. She sniffed the air, then ran home as fast as she could, into the kitchen, where she found Bronze by the stove, his cheeks bright red from the heat.