Vertical Motion

by Can Xue

  They sat down to rest under the apple tree. Birds were squabbling fearfully in the marsh. Mrs. Yun noticed a tiny grave with a tombstone on it. Mrs. Yun asked Youlin whose it was and how a tomb could be built in a marsh. Youlin was thinking back on something. After a while, he finally answered, “Him.”

  Mrs. Yun was no longer in pain, but she was growing feverish. She heard Youlin say, “Let’s take off our clothes.” It seemed to be someone else speaking. After hesitating a moment, she began undressing. So did Youlin. Holding each other, they walked toward the marsh. Strictly speaking, Youlin dragged Mrs. Yun over there.

  The sun was shining, and the water was warm. Sex in the marsh wasn’t like real sex. There was only extreme longing, but she felt no great pleasure. At first, Mrs. Yun thought she would sink, but the damp earth beneath her was buoyant. Their bodies were half-buried in it, but they didn’t sink down. She embraced him tightly. She felt he was confident in his knowledge of the earth here.

  When they went back to the apple tree, some leeches were sticking to their bodies. Mrs. Yun abhorred them, beat them hard, and got rid of two of them. She dressed. Five were sticking to Youlin, but he didn’t care. Nor did he get dressed. He sat on a rock, casting his eyes at the marsh in the distance. Mrs. Yun thought he had forgotten her. Anyhow, what were they to each other? Mrs. Yun couldn’t think it through at this moment. When she looked up, she saw a lot of black rings on the apple tree, one ring within another—much like Wumei’s papercuts. She thought of asking this man what was hanging on the tree, but when she saw his expression, she abandoned the idea.

  “I have to go home. I’m a little afraid of that bird.”

  “Then I’ll walk you home.”

  Youlin got dressed and walked behind her in silence. Mrs. Yun walked rapidly. When she passed the mulberry opposite her front door, she didn’t see the bird. There was just a pile of bird droppings on the ground. Mrs. Yun went through the courtyard gate, and when she turned around, Youlin had disappeared.

  Mr. Yun and Wumei were playing Chinese chess in the courtyard. Mrs. Yun raised her voice and said: “Who among our villagers has ever gone to the marsh?”

  Mr. Yun stretched, stood up, and said: “No one. But at night, outsiders have come out from there. I’ve heard that people and carts are coming and going all the time. But I’ve never seen what actually goes on there.”

  Mrs. Yun looked at her husband in disbelief and went into the kitchen without a word.

  As she cooked, Mrs. Yun tried hard to remember how she had reached the marsh. It was at least twelve miles from the village. How had she been able to make the round trip in such a short time—as if she had flown? If it was always so easy, then wasn’t it as if Youlin lived at her front door? She felt she’d made a mistake and thought there might be problems later. Back then, in her hometown, she hadn’t fallen in love with Youlin. Where on earth had he come from now? Was this person really Youlin?

  At night, when the moon shone into the bedroom, Mr. Yun had already been in and out of many dreams. All of a sudden, Mrs. Yun woke up and heard some movement in the next room. Without even bothering to put on her shoes, she rushed out.

  “Wumei! Wumei!”

  Shivering, she groped for a match on the windowsill and lit the lamp. The bed was empty. Where was Wumei? Ah, she was squatting next to the bureau. She stood up and covered half of her face with her hand.

  “What happened to your face?”

  “Leave me alone!”

  Mrs. Yun suddenly pulled her hand away from her face. Then she retreated two steps in fright, for half of her daughter’s face had disappeared, as if it had been cut off with a knife!

  “Oh! Yunshan! Yunshan!!” Mrs. Yun screamed for her husband.

  “You are so ignorant.”

  With that, Wumei calmly walked out.

  In the lamplight, Mrs. Yun noticed black rings all over the room, some moving in the air, others attached to the walls. Several were even hanging from the beams. Mr. Yun came into the room; he seemingly didn’t care about these black rings. He stood motionless in the middle of the room.

  “Wumei . . . her face . . .” Mrs. Yun stuttered.

  “Ha, this little thing! Her hoaxes are becoming more and more brilliant. Just ignore her.”

  “What attacked her . . . Was it that bird?”

  “Maybe. But don’t you worry about her. She’s destined to survive.”

  “Destined to survive?”

  Taking her doubts with her, Mrs. Yun went back to bed. In the dark, she asked Mr. Yun: “Do you remember Youlin, who repaired tires on the corner of Dragon Street?”

  “Sure. I had him repair tires for me. He went north a long time ago when some of his relatives asked him to run a factory there.”

  “But I’ve seen a man much like him here. How can someone look so much like him? Even his voice is the same.”

  Mr. Yun seemed to be snickering. After a while, Mrs. Yun heard him snoring.

  =

  The gigantic bird was still sitting in the tree, but it had been several days since it had attacked any of the family’s livestock. What was it doing sitting up there? Mrs. Yun thought it must be very hungry; green light flashed from its eyes even though it was daytime. Mrs. Yun sometimes thought of detouring around it, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking over there again. Once, she was so frightened when she looked up that she almost plopped down on the ground. After a while, a thought came to her: “Is it possible that this thing wants to eat me?” When she turned around and took another look, it had closed its eyes. She regretted having approached it just then—it was too risky.

  In the cool early morning breeze, Mrs. Yun stood next to the kidney bean vine and recalled meeting Mr. Yun years earlier for the first time. His family had moved from far away to the town where her family lived. It was a long time before people in the neighborhood became aware of their existence, because the family didn’t talk much with others—and because they delivered coal for a living. City people generally did not make friends with coal deliverymen. When he was young, Mr. Yun was rather thin, not as robust as he was now. One time he was pulling a cart of coal up the steepest incline on the neighboring street. It was drizzling and his tires skidded. He kept climbing up and sliding down. Mrs. Yun was watching from one side. Probably it was the eighth or ninth time that he slipped down that Mrs. Yun couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She rushed up and helped him push the cart. Then the two of them went up the slope together. Little did she think that Mr. Yun would stop the cart and angrily rebuke her for meddling. Mrs. Yun blushed, glared at him in disdain, and left.

  Before long, Mr. Yun invited her to a movie. When he was young, Mr. Yun was very handsome. How could Mrs. Yun turn him down? Later, she discovered that Mr. Yun was generally amiable, but if one interfered with his work, he immediately turned harsh. He couldn’t put up with any comments on his work. During those years on Dragon Street, Mrs. Yun saw her husband toiling and wanted him to hire a helper, but he sternly refused. He went to work on time every day and never asked for time off. Even when he was sick, he wouldn’t let Mrs. Yun help. When he pulled the cart, his body became one with the cart. Even Mrs. Yun felt there was no room for another person in this scene. Mrs. Yun joked with him and nicknamed him “Charcoal.” She felt all along that he pulled the cart not only to support the family but also for another reason. What on earth was this other reason?

  She observed him working under the blazing sun. The blacktop roads were boiling hot. Drop by drop, his sweat fell onto the ground. His eyes were wide open and his face a little pale. Mrs. Yun thought he would have heat stroke, but she also knew that he was engrossed in daydreams and so she shouldn’t disturb him. From years of experience, Mrs. Yun knew that the more strain he was under, the more excited he was. And so the one time that she had helped him push the cart had amounted to depriving him of pleasure.

  As Mrs. Yun saw it, after marriage, their life on Dragon Street was neither all gloomy nor was it all sweetness and light. The two of t
hem lived a simple, austere life. Mrs. Yun loved children. Who could have imagined that she would fail to bring up her children? Even now, she need only close her eyes and she could see her four darling children. Because of them, Mr. Yun and she were both drained of tears. Mr. Yun advised her to abandon the idea of having more children, but she wasn’t convinced. Mr. Yun said, “The air here is poisonous.” Suddenly one day, he loaded up the cart with a lot of household goods and said that he wanted to live with relatives in the countryside. Although Mrs. Yun couldn’t comprehend what life in the countryside would be like, she did want to be far away from this place where she was grieving. And so she ignorantly came along with Mr. Yun. Their move should have been considered a success, for didn’t they later have Wumei? As a child, Wumei was really lovable, and Mrs. Yun felt delirious with love. But this child became more and more somber. It was hard for Mrs. Yun to communicate with her. At first, she was a little offended, but she gradually came to understand her a little. The little girl was a lot like her father; still, she worried about her. This heaven-sent treasure was the triumphant result of Mr. Yun’s decision. This led her to recall the way Mr. Yun looked when he hauled the coal up the hill on that rainy day.

  Because Wumei was grown up now, Mr. Yun no longer liked to talk much, and it was always quiet and cheerless at home. Sometimes when Mrs. Yun was cooking, she felt as though no one lived here. To reassure herself, she sometimes had to check out the courtyard. She always saw father and daughter silently doing their own things. Mrs. Yun knew they both still loved her; they just didn’t express it well. They were too absorbed in their own concerns. Take this bird, for example. At first, Mrs. Yun thought it was an ordinary bird, but father and daughter didn’t see it that way. They had much more profound insights. Mrs. Yun was only dimly aware of their worlds.

  After picking the kidney beans, Mrs. Yun headed home, for she had to boil congee with kidney beans—something the whole family loved. The courtyard was empty; both father and daughter had gone to the field. When Mrs. Yun laid eyes on the chicken coop, she was horrified to see the bird standing there. Oddly, the chickens were walking back and forth, not at all afraid. Ah! Could it be that it had come to deal with her?

  Mrs. Yun went back to the kitchen, thinking the future was boundless. As she lit the fire and chopped vegetables, her hands shook violently. She was on constant alert, afraid that the bird would pounce at any moment. Though she was under a lot of strain, she remembered the question that had been nagging her all along. Mr. Yun had sacrificed for her the work that he loved and had turned to plaiting hemp sandals. Deep down in his heart, could he resent this? But he didn’t seem to. He seemed satisfied and self-sufficient. When Wumei showed him her papercuts, he would stare at the black rings and say, “Great! Great!” Mrs. Yun recalled that he had never resented anything. Was he the sort who believed in “taking things as they come”?

  The congee boiled with fresh kidney beans was wonderful, and the three of them ate with gusto. Mrs. Yun noticed nothing different in either father or daughter.

  “That ruffian has occupied the chicken coop. What should we do about the chickens?” she finally spoke.

  “You worry too much,” said Mr. Yun.

  “Huh?”

  Mrs. Yun angrily cleared away the bowls and chopsticks. She had no way to pour out the pain in her heart to anyone, so she came up with some malicious ideas. When she was working in the kitchen, she laughed grimly every few minutes. Meanwhile, she made time to look inside the chicken coop to see if the bird was still there. It was so bulky that it occupied half the henhouse. The green light shooting from its eyes was murderous. Why weren’t the chickens afraid of it? Had they reached an agreement?

  When Wumei entered the kitchen, Mrs. Yun asked her: “Did your father bring the bird in? Will we have to live with it from now on?”

  “I think it came in by itself. I’m going to ignore it.”

  Actually, Mrs. Yun also thought that it had come in by itself, but she couldn’t suppress the wrath she felt toward her husband. When she fed the pigs, they were also calm, as if they weren’t at all affected by their proximity to the formidable enemy. Mrs. Yun thought, Maybe there won’t be a problem, after all? Anyhow, the answer would be clear at dusk when the chickens went back to the coop. She forced herself to be a little more patient.

  Father and daughter left. The courtyard was quiet. The hens were all sleeping soundly in the sunshine, now and then making nonsensical gugu sounds. Just one hen was taking a bath in the sand. It didn’t seem to be at all on guard. Mrs. Yun swept the courtyard. Only after sweeping all the corners did she sweep the henhouse. Suddenly, locking gazes with the bird, she went numb all over. She couldn’t move. She and the bird stared at each other for a long time. Finally, one of them turned away. After Mrs. Yun recovered her wits, she found her clothing drenched with perspiration.

  At dusk, things took a turn for the better. The owl swaggered out of the henhouse and stood in the courtyard for a few seconds. The chickens and ducks all stopped what they were doing to watch the big bird. With a hu sound, it flew away, its huge wings raising dust and sand from the ground. Mrs. Yun hurried to the doorway at once and saw it stop on the tree again. Father and daughter were walking along the ditch near the tree. But it wasn’t just the two of them. Someone else was there, too. Because he was wearing a straw hat, she couldn’t immediately recognize him. Ah, it was Youlin! He parted from them at the tree and took the road to the market.

  “You came back with our former neighbor,” Mrs. Yun said.

  “He’s very smart. Right off the bat, he seized the chance to do business next to the marsh. He has it together a lot more than we do.” Mr. Yun appraised the figure that was receding in the distance.

  “What kind of work does he do?” Mrs. Yun blurted out. Actually, she wanted to stop herself, but couldn’t.

  “It’s hard to say what goes on in the marsh. I’ve heard only rumors.”

  Father and daughter sat down calmly in the courtyard and played chess, as if there was nothing to worry about. After making tea for them, Mrs. Yun went back to the kitchen. Today’s events had left her at a loss. It seemed that a distance of about twelve miles wasn’t so far: this person could come over whenever he wanted. Maybe he lived next to the village. How could this tire repairman and the Dragon Street scene have become entangled with her? Ever since leaving that unjust place, Mrs. Yun had felt that her family had broken completely with it. Yet, not only was it not a complete break, but it was possible to have frequent contact. She had simply been unaware of this. It was such a sinister world.

  “It’s so scary to repair tires for people in the marsh,” said Wumei. “What I’m most afraid of is pushing a cart on the marsh.”

  “Have you seen it?” Mrs. Yun asked lightly.

  “Once when I was a child. But the people in the carts were prisoners on their way to being executed. I didn’t dare look and began to cry.”

  “Nonsense. When did you go to the marsh? I don’t remember that.”

  Mrs. Yun thought to herself, How can this child run off at the mouth like this? She’d been such a good child. Making up stories like this: Could it be that she found Youlin revolting?

  “Those prisoners all had long beards, and the tops of their heads were like stumps that had been chopped off. The cart drivers were all very ugly. One was an old ape.”

  “Do you remember who took you to the marsh?”

  “No. It must have been Daddy.”

  After Wumei left, several black rings were visible on the spot where she’d been standing; they were like cauterized imprints. Mrs. Yun scuffed them with her foot but couldn’t get rid of them. When she took a closer look, she didn’t see them.

  They were eating supper. After Mrs. Yun changed the lamp wick, the kerosene lamp brightened. Mrs. Yun noticed that the father’s and daughter’s faces flickered in the lamplight, and a dark shadow stood behind Mr. Yun for a while and then behind Wumei for a while. Mrs. Yun forgot about eating. All of a sudden
, she burst out: “Youlin?” She was scared out of her wits.

  “Living where Youlin lives isn’t as tough as we imagine. I suppose there are some arcane truths there. Let’s drop this subject. I’m afraid it will frighten Wumei,” Mr. Yun said.

  Wumei’s shining eyes led Mrs. Yun to think of the strange bird’s eyes.

  “Give me some credit, will you, Daddy?”

  “Could Youlin be dead?” Mrs. Yun said.

  Mr. Yun began laughing. Mrs. Yun saw the dark shadow behind him bow in his direction.

  “No way. You just saw that he was all right, didn’t you? I told you: he has a great life! I’ve thought about him in the years that we’ve been apart. But it never occurred to me that he was living next to the marsh. I used to haul coal, and he fixed tires. Back then, I felt that he and I were much the same. As I see it now, we are indeed in different social classes. Think about it: So many years have gone by, how could our characters not have changed?”

  Mrs. Yun was staring at her husband’s face, which had gradually become thinner. Her disbelief was growing. Mr. Yun seldom talked so much. What was wrong with him today? The dark shadow behind him seemed to be smelling his hair. Mrs. Yun wanted to stand up, but she felt nailed to her chair. Wave after wave of chills assailed her. She set her chopsticks down.

  “Ma!” Wumei shouted.

  “Ah?” She was a little more clear-headed.

  “You have to give me some money to buy glossy paper.”

  “Oh, okay! You’re so industrious.”

  Wumei stood up and went back to her room. Just then, the owl began hooting. It wasn’t like the frightening hoot of an ordinary owl. It didn’t scare Mrs. Yun at all; it was merely a little strange. It was intense and resounding, and it lasted a fantastically long time. She thought, Maybe this is the birds’ mountain ballad? It was a long time before it stopped hooting.

  Mrs. Yun lit another lamp and went to the courtyard gate to investigate. As usual, she was worried about her chickens and ducks, but there was no problem: it was quiet all around. Outside, the old mulberry tree bobbed its head gently in the breeze, and the owl was no longer there. Perhaps, its song had been its last outburst. What emotions did its outburst hold? Birds’ ideas were hard to fathom. Two villagers passed by the tree. They were quarreling, and suddenly they came to blows. One of them lifted the older one into the ditch. Mrs. Yun heard the one in the ditch groaning loudly. Mrs. Yun called Mr. Yun over to help the old codger.