Under the Hawthorn Tree

by Anna Holmwood

  After returning to the table she didn’t look at him again, but lowered her head over her bowl. Whether she reached for more food she did not know, nor was she aware of what she was putting in her mouth; she was conscious only of the need to empty her bowl. But he was in total ignorance of her turmoil, and picking up another piece of sausage with his chopsticks, gracefully plopped it into her bowl. Enraged, she struck her chopsticks against his. ‘What are you doing? I have my own hands.’

  He looked back at her in surprise.

  Ever since the day he had walked her back over the mountain she had been snapping at him, and especially when they had an audience she exhibited a particular ferociousness, as if to advertise that there could be nothing between them. He, on the other hand, behaved in the opposite manner. Before, he had spoken to her as an adult does to a child, teasing her, admonishing her. But now he had become cowardly, always trying to guess her thoughts and make himself agreeable to her. She reproved him, and he gazed back at her, pitiable rather than angry, lacking the courage to pick playful fights. The more wretched he looked, the angrier she got: he was giving away their secret.

  The first days after she got back Old Third was still trying to carry on as before; coming in to help her whenever he saw her in her room writing. She hissed, ‘What are you doing coming in here? Go, quickly, before anyone sees.’ And he was brazen no longer. When she told him to leave he stood in the doorway, mute, before leaving obediently. She could hear him talking with others in the family, and sometimes she would have to pass through the living room in order to go round the back. He would break off mid-sentence and watch her pass through without saying anything to her, forgetting to reply to whoever else was there.

  She heard Auntie’s daughter-in-law, Yumin, say, ‘Isn’t that so, Old Third?’

  He grunted an ‘Mmm’ in reply, and then, confused, asked, ‘Isn’t what so?’

  Yumin laughed at him. ‘How come you’re so distracted lately? I have to repeat myself several times, and you still don’t understand. You’re just like my naughtiest students, never listening in class.’

  Jingqiu discovered sausage, and even egg, buried in her bowl a few more times, and each time she was wild with anger. She decided to tell Old Third that if he ever did that again someone would find out. He obviously wasn’t scared; he was a working man, it was natural for him to have a girlfriend, but she was still at school. His behaviour was putting her in danger.

  One day the oldest brother, Sen, arrived home from Yanjia River, bringing with him a friend called Qian, a driver, who, the previous evening, had run down a wild deer. He and some other drivers had slaughtered it and divided up the meat. Sen had received some and had taken it home so everyone could have a taste. Sen sent Jingqiu to fetch Old Third; Qian’s watch was broken and he’d come to ask if Old Third could fix it.

  Some distance before the geological unit’s camp, she heard the sounds of Old Third’s accordion. He was playing the polka – a tune she knew well. She came to a stop and thought of her first day in West Village, and the first time she heard Old Third’s accordion playing. It was right at this very spot. That day her thoughts extended only as far as meeting him and exchanging a few words by way of a greeting. Afterwards she had started longing for him, becoming distracted if she went a few days without seeing him. But from the day she had walked with him back over the mountain her feelings had changed. Now she was tormented by the thought of being caught. My capitalist thoughts are deep-seated, and I’m such a hypocrite, I only worry about someone finding out about them. If Lin hadn’t seen us that day I’d probably still be longing to be with him. Lin has saved me from sliding deeper into this abyss.

  Her thoughts were swirling. Eventually, she mustered the courage to collect Old Third. He opened the door and said, ‘How come you’re here?’

  ‘Sen asked me to come and get you for dinner.’

  He found her a chair and poured her a glass of water. ‘I’ve already eaten, but tell me what good things Sen has brought to eat and perhaps you can persuade me.’

  Jingqiu continued to stand, and said, ‘Big brother wants you to come now. Someone’s come with a broken watch and he wants you to fix it. He also brought some venison and he wants you to have some.’

  Overhearing this, one of Old Third’s middle-aged roommates teased, ‘Little Sun, venison’s no joking matter. Don’t you know it stokes the fires, and you’ve got no means of putting a fire like that out. Wouldn’t that be terrible? Take my advice, don’t go.’

  Jingqiu was afraid that Old Third would not come on account of this advice. ‘Don’t worry, venison is indeed a warming food, but we can ask Auntie to cook some mung bean soup. That’s supposed to be good for cooling you down.’

  The other men guffawed, and one said, ‘Okay, okay, so that’s how you reduce heat, eh? Eat mung bean soup.’

  Old Third was visibly uncomfortable and once outside, apologised to her. ‘Those men have been away from their families for a long time so they’re a bit careless with their words. They’re always making jokes like that. Don’t take any notice.’

  Jingqiu didn’t understand. Surely someone saying venison was a warming food wasn’t something that needed an apology? Whenever she ate warming foods, like chilli for example, her mouth would blister and sometimes her teeth would hurt, so she had to be careful not to eat too much. And what do liking jokes and not being around your family have to do with each other? Their meaning may have remained a mystery to her, and seemed rather incoherent, but she didn’t give it too much thought – she was otherwise occupied with finding a way of telling him not to hide any more food under her rice.

  They walked back on the same small road they had walked along before, balanced between the fields. After a while Old Third asked, ‘Are you angry with me?’

  ‘Why would I be angry?’

  ‘Maybe I’m too sensitive. I thought you might have been angry because of that day up on the mountain.’ He turned to look at her and slowly retraced his steps towards her. ‘That day, I was a bit too forceful. But don’t think ill of me.’

  ‘I don’t intend to talk about what happened that day,’ she said quickly. ‘You forget it too, and as long as we don’t make the same mistake, it’ll be fine. I’m just worried Lin has misunderstood, and if it gets out . . .’

  ‘He won’t tell anyone, don’t worry, I’ve spoken with him.’

  ‘What? And just because you’ve spoken with him, he won’t say? He listens to you?’

  He hesitated before replying. ‘Men often carry women across the water like that around here. Before, they didn’t have a ferry, men carried people across – young girls, old people, children. If it had been Lin accompanying you, he would have done the same. Really, it’s nothing. Don’t worry so much.’

  ‘But Lin must have guessed that we came together from the town. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, you happening to run into me on the mountain.’

  ‘Even if he does guess he won’t say anything. He is very honest and keeps his promises. I know you’ve been worrying about this, and I wanted to talk to you about it, but you’re always avoiding me. Don’t worry. Even if Lin does say something, as long as we both deny it no one will believe him.’

  ‘You want us to lie?’

  ‘That kind of lie wouldn’t hurt anyone, it’s not a major crime. Even if people believe Lin, I’ll say it has nothing to do with you, that I’m chasing you.’

  This word, ‘chasing’, sent shocks through Jingqiu’s body. She’d never heard anyone say this word straight out. At most people said ‘so-and-so has developed deep proletarian feelings for so-and-so’.

  ‘Don’t worry so much.’ He was begging now. ‘Look at you. In these last few days
you’ve got so thin and your eyes are all sunken.’

  She looked back at him in the twilight. He too looked thinner. She concentrated on him, and preoccupied in this manner, nearly tumbled off the ridge and into the field.

  ‘There’s no one here, let me hold your hand.’

  She twisted and turned, looking all around, and indeed, there wasn’t a soul. But still, she couldn’t be sure that someone wouldn’t suddenly appear, or that there wasn’t someone watching them from a hiding place somewhere. Keeping her hands glued to her side she said, ‘Forget it, let’s not make more trouble. Also, from now on don’t hide things in my rice bowl. If Auntie sees she’ll use it as proof.’

  ‘Hide things in your rice bowl? I haven’t,’ he said, confused.

  ‘Admit it, because if it wasn’t you, who was it? I’m always finding sausage, or egg, or whatever, when you come round. I have to act like those wives in imperial times, scared out of their wits. I throw it all into the pig’s bucket.’

  He stopped and looked at her. ‘It really isn’t me. Maybe it’s Lin. You say it’s every time I come, but maybe that’s because that’s when you’re having something for dinner worth hiding. But I haven’t put anything in your bowl, I know you’d go crazy.’

  ‘It’s not you? Then who is it? It must be Lin.’ She thought for a moment, and said, ‘In that case, I’m not worried.’

  His face twisted with displeasure. ‘Why aren’t you worried that people will think something’s going on between the two of you?’

  Chapter Eight

  A few days passed without the merest ripple of gossip, and Jingqiu began to believe that perhaps there was nothing to worry about after all. Lin seemed a trustworthy person, and having agreed to Old Third’s request not to say anything, appeared to be sticking to his promise. So, Jingqiu managed to relax a little. Reassured, she started knitting the jumper for Lin. She had made a guess at his height and chest size, and had picked out a straightforward pattern. Every evening she sat knitting late into the night in order to get it finished before she left for good.

  Seeing her working so hard, Auntie Zhang said, ‘No need to rush, if you don’t finish you can always take it home with you. Once it’s done Lin can go and fetch it, or you can bring it when you come to visit.’

  As soon as Jingqiu heard this she began to work even harder to finish it; she didn’t want to leave any loose ends that meant she would have to meet Lin again. The strange thing was, she didn’t worry that people would mistake her efforts for affection, only that Lin might do so. When the time came for her to refuse him it would hurt him even more.

  One day, as Auntie Zhang and Jingqiu were chatting, Jingqiu mentioned her mother’s ongoing health problems. She often had blood in her urine, but the doctor couldn’t find the cause. He had begun to write out prescriptions so that her mother could buy walnuts and rock sugar, which were said to be able to cure it, and so far they had helped. But walnuts and rock sugar were scarce, and even with a prescription they were hard to come by.

  ‘Yumin says they have walnut trees at her old family home,’ Auntie Zhang said. ‘I’ll ask her to bring some when she next goes there and you can take them back for your mother.’

  Jingqiu was ecstatic. Her mother had been ill for a long time, and they had tried everything to cure her; chicken blood injections, hand-waving therapy, anything, as long as it didn’t cost too much, but all to no avail. At her worst, her mother’s samples were the colour of blood. She ran over immediately to ask Yumin, who replied, ‘We do indeed have walnuts where I grew up, but it’s very far away, and I don’t know when I’ll be going next. But I will write a letter home and ask them to save some for you, and when I next go I’ll bring them back.’

  ‘Um . . . how much do you sell a pound of walnuts for?’

  ‘They’re all our own trees, we don’t want money! It’s remote, and besides, we can’t come down from the mountain to sell them, we’re supposed to be “cutting the tail of capitalism”. They collect the things we grow on these hilly scraps of land, which are supposed to be for our own use. When do they let us sell any of it? Besides, we all consider you a part of the family. As long as we can help your mother get better you can have a whole tree’s worth, it’s no bother.’

  Jingqiu was moved. ‘Thank you so much, whenever you have the time to write the letter would be fine . . . I’ll find the time to go myself, just as long as my mother gets better. I’m so afraid that one day she’ll bleed herself dry.’

  A few days later, Lin came to Jingqiu’s room carrying a bamboo basket. ‘Check to see if you think that’s enough.’ With that, he turned and left. Jingqiu peered into the basket and found it full of walnuts. She was stunned. Yumin must have told him to go all the way to get them. She was furious, and spent most of the day holding back her tears. A long time ago she had made herself a promise, no more tears. Her father and brother were in the countryside, her mother was ill, and her sister was five years younger than her, so she had to be the rock of the family. She had her own slogan: bleed, sweat, but don’t cry.

  She hurried to find Lin. He was sitting by the gable wall of the house, eating. She walked across to him, then stood watching him eat mouthful after mouthful. He looked ravenous.

  ‘Did you go to our sister-in-law’s family home?’ she asked.

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Was it far?’

  ‘No.’

  Jingqiu looked down at his feet. His shoes were worn through from walking and the sole of his foot was poking through. She couldn’t summon any words, but just looked at his shoes, mute. He followed her gaze, and quickly removed the shoes, covering them with his feet. Ashamed, he said, ‘I walk with heavy steps, so I wear shoes out quickly. I was going to go barefoot, but it’s cold on the mountain.’

  She choked, forcing back her tears. ‘Did she send you?’

  ‘No. I just thought your mother could use them as soon as possible.’ He finished scraping the last grains of rice from the bowl and said, ‘I’m off to work. I can still fit in a half-day.’ He walked off, only to hurry back a short while later with a hoe balanced on his shoulder. ‘Find a piece of paper to cover the basket, otherwise Huan Huan will eat them all. Don’t think just because he’s small he doesn’t have his ways.’

  Jingqiu watched him stuff his worn shoes into the pile of firewood outside the door. He turned around and told her, ‘Don’t tell my mother, she’ll only tell me off and call me spoiled.’

  Lin left. Jingqiu picked the shoes out from amongst the firewood and examined them. She wanted to repair them but as the sole of one of them was already worn right through they’d be impossible to fix. She forced them back into the pile.

  She was overcome. She stood, thinking, if she accepted Lin’s help, how was she supposed to repay him? She decided to take the walnuts, but only because they would help her mother get better. She was wearing herself out, and had too many worries. Whenever she was less anxious her symptoms eased. When there were things to worry about, however, or whenever work was too exhausting, she would bleed again. The walnuts and rock sugar made it stop.

  Jingqiu returned to her room and crouched down before the basket of walnuts. She touched each one in turn. There must have been more than twenty pounds of walnuts. Were she to ask the doctor for a prescription, she’d probably need over ten in order to buy that many, not to mention the money. She was desperate to deliver the basket of walnuts to her mother right away, but without the sugar they’d be of no use, and without a doctor’s note she wouldn’t be able to get hold of any. The doctor only wrote a prescription once her mother’s illness had flared up.

  Nevertheless, there were enough walnuts to last her mother a long time. Her sister would also be delighted, as sh
e loved nothing more than cracking walnuts. Indeed, she was an expert. She’d hold the walnut upright, and using a small claw hammer would lightly tap the top until the shell split in four directions. There, in the middle, would stand the perfectly formed nut. Sometimes, of course, it would break. Then her sister would use a needle to fish out the pieces. She’d mix these pieces with the rock sugar and give them to their mother to eat. Her mother, however, would refuse, telling the two daughters to eat the mixture. Mother’s health is not so bad, there’s nothing wrong, you two are both still growing, eat some. The two girls would respond that the walnuts were too bitter, and that they didn’t like them.

  Jingqiu knelt, thinking, Lin was really too good to her. She had heard stories from before the revolution about ‘filial daughters’ who used to sell their bodies to support their mothers. She thought she could understand them. What else could a young girl do to support her mother in those days? Even now in this new society, apart from her own body, what else did a girl like Jingqiu have to support her mother? Now, with this basket of walnuts before her, she was afraid; if this basket of walnuts cures my mother, shouldn’t I agree to marry Lin? Now they were part of the new society where you couldn’t buy and sell people, she couldn’t ‘sell’ herself to him. Only marry him instead.

  As she contemplated how to repay Lin’s kindness, she began thinking of Old Third. In her heart she wished it had been Old Third who had brought the walnuts as this problem would then easily be resolved; she would happily ‘sell’ herself to him. She reproached herself. In what ways, exactly, was Lin inferior to Old Third? Was it that he was a bit shorter, did not have the same ‘petty capitalist’ look as Old Third? But shouldn’t we look at what’s on a person’s inside, not just the outside?

  Instantly, she chastised herself again; how can you say that Old Third does not have Lin’s kind nature? Doesn’t he take care of you? Also, he’s always helping others, repairing their pens, clocks, watches, spending money to buy the spares and never collecting a penny from anyone. Isn’t that proof of his good nature? People said that he was named the model solider of their geological unit.