Wild Fruit

by Keyi Sheng

  Chuntian was greatly affected by my mother. When she first started wearing a bra, I was curious about the little garment, so took it out where everyone could see it. Humiliated, she cried and hit me. In an act of revenge, I once peeped at her while she bathed. Half a red brick came flying out of the washroom, striking me squarely on the hind end. I cried hysterically until my mother punished Chuntian. Even years later, every time Chuntian mentioned this, it saddened her. She said my mother had protected me ever since I was small, and that my father also treated me better than he did her. I felt quite guilty and indebted to her after that.

  When our family built the new house, we cut down the Chinaberry tree that had always stood next to the door. This humble, useless tree was actually quite pretty, especially when the flowers bloomed into purple cloud clusters. When the wind blew, they fell like snowflakes. My mother wore a cloth tied around her waist as she sat under the Chinaberry tree rubbing rapeseed, pounding beans, mending the soles of our shoes, or knitting sweaters. I had fallen in love for the first time under that tree, as Tang Linlu played his guitar.

  The tree had grown when my father was away from home. He had no special attachment to it, so he cut the tree, dug up the roots, and used it all to reinforce a ring fence. I told my mother, ‘You should stop him from cutting down the tree.’

  She said, ‘There’s no use keeping it.’

  She spoke so dully that I could only bear the pain in solitude. I did not tell my mother that, for me, the tree was connected to her. I was already in university at the time. I should have had much to share with my mother, but I still continued in my old ways.

  This part of my family history may not seem very important. After all, there was no longer any way to verify whether Xiazhi’s surname was Li or Ma. I even doubted my own suspicions. Perhaps I felt that my mother’s life was too monotonous, and having one such fantasy would at least prove she was a woman of flesh and blood. It would also prove that she had once cultivated a lively lust, and that she had experienced moments of ecstasy. It was true – I could hardly imagine how my young mother, like the Virgin Mary, could have survived those lonely nights. Of course, in our twenty-first century village, gynaecology is no longer a taboo for women, and stolen pleasures are commonplace. Women say all the dirty words under the sun out loud, their underclothes fluttering in the wind like flags, and when their amour is exposed, they no longer feel suicidal.

  By early 2003, rumours of an infectious disease were spreading, and so many people wore masks when they went out. I called my mother, and she said the price of a bottle of vinegar had gone up tremendously, and the shelves and warehouses had been emptied of vinegar. The price of a Chinese medicine called isatis root, normally sold in medicine halls, had likewise skyrocketed and could not be bought anywhere. I said, ‘No wonder there’s been such a soar in pharmaceutical stocks.’

  My mother asked me to go home and hide for a while. If one caught the disease, death was quick. She told me that when the chickens got bird flu, they were just standing dozing off in the yard, then fell over one after another. When swine flu struck, the pigs would not eat or move, and spots appeared on their bodies. They died soon after that, too. One year, the river had been full of dead pigs, all covered in white spots. I did not say anything else, but just thought of the napping chickens and the fasting pigs, and their white, spotty corpses. I said, ‘Mother, don’t worry. There are so many people in this country who are still working. Don’t believe the rumours. If there really was an epidemic, the government would issue an emergency notice.’

  My mother said, ‘Two people from the vegetable market already died. Xiaohan, don’t let anything happen to you. It’s been so many years since your brother died, but I’m still not over it.’

  My mother was not prone to sensationalism.

  My eyes were red. I asked my parents not to go out unless it was necessary, to be extra careful about hygiene, and to make sure there was plenty of ventilation. ‘When the turmoil is over, I’ll come back and eat your peppers fried with meat,’ I said.

  Several days earlier, my grandfather had suddenly become paralysed. He could not talk, and he was incontinent. It was said that just before he suffered this paralysis, he had lost a large bet and had used that bronze jar for oil and salt sitting at the bottom of his treasure chest to pay his debt. He was already ninety-three years old, and everyone said his time to meet the God of Death had come. My father went ahead and reserved a coffin. Because my grandfather’s back was not bent and he had not shrunk, maintaining his height of 1.8 metres, he could only fit into a standard-sized coffin if his legs were broken.

  There were some people who said that my grandfather was bored with life, faking the paralysis – the same way, when he kept drawing a bad hand, he would become bored and just wanted others to draw on his behalf while he sat and watched, until his addiction stirred and he would enter the battlefield once more. My grandfather certainly knew the pleasures of card-playing, and the taste of being alive.

  My father disagreed with this speculation, assuming no one would like to sleep in their own filth. My father called his childhood friend Wang to come see my grandfather and feel his pulse.

  Wang too was old by then, and his fingers trembled slightly. He said there was no one healthier than my grandfather, whose pulse was jumping like a pot of beans put on to boil. He was very strong, according to Wang. My father was both happy and worried – happy that my grandfather was healthy, but worried the old man would live healthily in bed for another eight or ten years. That would be torture for those around him, just like the time when my grandfather had suffered the deep-rooted boils and was bedridden for two weeks. The whole household was in chaos around him. My father would rather my grandfather get up and go on gambling, feeling the best thing would be for him to die at the card table.

  Reality proved harder than what my father had foreseen. My grandfather’s bowel movements were sudden and irregular – sometimes two or three times a day. Sometimes my grandfather would throw up after my father had cleaned up, throwing up even the juices from his gallbladder. My father, with the bitterness still in his mouth, called my brother to come home, then made him take over the dirty work. Having faced the indignities of prison, my brother felt there was nothing that could compare with the suffering caused by the loss of freedom. He happily took over bathing my grandfather, washing the mosquito net, cleaning the house, and deodorising the place.

  My grandfather lay peacefully. With his eyes closed and his face towards the ceiling, he was like a philosopher contemplating the meaning of life. He had a good appetite, especially for meat. Chicken was his favourite. Miserably, my father slaughtered a laying hen. When he had to slaughter a second one, he started cursing and shouting. After consuming three chickens, my grandfather still did not get up. My father put his knife away, and my grandfather became a vegetarian. ‘If he wants meat badly enough, he’ll get up,' my father said.

  My father’s trick was very effective. After eating vegetarian food for ten days, my grandfather suddenly appeared in the kitchen’s doorway.

  ‘I want to eat peppers fried with meat.’ he said, sounding like a child. ‘I want plenty of fat and grease.’

  My mother was as shocked as if she had seen a ghost. Still in shock, she immediately went to the market to get some meat, and she fried it with half a red pepper and half a green pepper, heaping the food like a mountain in a bowl. When my father came in, my grandfather was picking at the remains in the bowl and licking the oil from his lips.

  ‘Eh? You’re up? I knew you couldn’t stand it without meat!’ My father was inwardly pleased, but his expression was angry as he fell into his old habit of digging at my grandfather.

  My grandfather did not glance at him or return the unkind tone. He merely looked upward and sighed, saying, ‘Ah, when you’ve recovered from a serious illness, fried peppers and meat are so comforting.’

  As he said this, he went back to his room.

  My grandfather had been bedridd
en for two months. My father could not let him off so easily now. He chased after him and stood leaning against the side of my grandfather’s low doorframe. He shouted, ‘You’ve lived to this ripe old age, so why do you still want to torture people like this? When you want to eat chicken, you just say the word, and I slaughter a chicken. When have I ever withheld it from you? Whatever you’ve asked for, haven’t we tried our best to provide it for you? When have we mistreated you?’

  Mr Ma was passing by and stopped, looking at my father. He laughed and said, ‘The elder is treated like the babe. Just let it go.’

  My grandfather went outdoors then, enjoying the fresh air outside the house. He said, ‘The 800 yuan in my box is gone. I don’t know who stole it.’

  ‘You still have money saved? You’ve lost your underpants and a lifetime of face gambling. What do you think you have left?’ My father was really fired up. ‘Talk about your 800 yuan . . . even if it was 8000, no one would touch your things! You’ve thought about money until you’ve gone crazy. You just got over your paralysis, and now you’re making trouble out of nothing!’

  Feeling he had the duty to mediate, Ma did not dare to leave. He persuaded, ‘Come on, Li, don’t be angry. He’s nearly 100 years old. Surely his mind’s a little cloudy.’

  In fact, things would have been better if Ma had left. My grandfather liked to act up in the presence of visitors, and the bigger the audience, the more worked up he became. He decided to employ a ‘selective listening’ technique this time, pretending he had not heard a word my father said.

  ‘Eight 100 yuan bills. I wrapped them in a handkerchief and put them under my martial arts novels . . . They were new notes. I couldn’t bear to use them . . . ' My grandfather said to Ma. He really cherished this participant in his drama, this witness, this turtle in the urn.

  ‘Go back and have another good look. Maybe you put it somewhere else. You wouldn’t lose it.’ Ma had to move closer and walk into his role more seriously. ‘You are nearly a hundred. Don’t play cards anymore. It’s the same as giving away money. If you give it away openly, others will appreciate it, but if you give it away at the card table, people just laugh it off.’

  My grandfather heard this clearly, and laughed. ‘I didn’t play cards. I played very little this year. My health is bad. I don’t think I have long to live.’

  My father was so agitated it hurt. ‘You . . . it’ll be all right if you die. Who enjoys a better life than you? Ma, you don’t know. From last year until now, he brings it up every time he’s free. He always makes it seem real.’

  My mother came out then and pulled my father away. ‘You really love to quarrel, too. You know he’s old and confused. Let him be.’

  Ma laughed, then slipped away.

  My father cleared his throat and spat, swallowing the bullet he had prepared to fire, ending the battle, then turned and walked away. My grandfather was the only person left standing on the terrace. He suddenly seemed lonely.

  Staring at the sky for a while, he said to himself, Well, you think I don’t know the mischief your woman and Ma had done?

  Then he went into the house and shut the door.

  Hearing that the ‘commando’ wanted to sleep with her, Yihua whirled around on one leg like a compass, looking at the sky, then looking at the ground. The sun was like a cake turning to paste, all grey and hazy. Her whole body felt sticky, and her mind was lost in a dense chaos.

  Liuzi was still in that strange building. She did not know if he had had anything to eat or drink, nor whether he had been beaten. When they had first arrived in Guangzhou, Liuzi had been taught a lesson by the police. When they were in Yiyang, Yihua felt they were like crocodiles, but now that they had come out, she felt they were just geckos. They had shrunk to a fraction of their size and were only fit to crawl through cracks in the walls. Yihua had seen many men – fat, thin, tall, short, with cross bite, cross-eyed, and with bellies that made them look pregnant. It was only with such men that she became a crocodile, sitting on their laps, plying them with drinks, and teasing them.

  She was momentarily at a loss. Then, she decided to negotiate with the commando.

  ‘If I were not a virgin, I would go with you right away . . .’ she said. ‘But you know, a girl’s first time is to be cherished. It should be something beautiful.’

  ‘You’re a virgin? Ha!’ the commando sneered. ‘If you’re a virgin, sows can climb trees.’

  ‘There was a big flood in my hometown one year, and a sow really did climb a tree. She survived,’ Yihua said. ‘I swear I’m not lying.’

  ‘You’ve got sows that climb trees there? Ha!’ The commando’s laughter intensified as it went on. Eventually, he just squatted where he was and laughed, then finally he stood up and wiped his tears. ‘Well, if you’re a virgin, I won’t sleep with you. And I’ll do better than that; I’ll help you get your man out.’

  ‘Really?’ Yihua asked incredulously. ‘You mean it?’

  ‘I, Hu Lilai, never lie to women,’ the commando said leisurely.

  ‘Your name’s Hu Lilai? Where I come from, that means “womaniser.”’

  ‘It’s a different “Li”, the one that means “courtesy”. Don’t you think I’m quite a polite fellow?’

  She noticed he was only about twenty or so years old. In fact, the more she looked, the younger he seemed.

  ‘Yeah, you seem like a good guy.’

  ‘Flattery is useless. So, how are you going to prove you’re a virgin?’

  Yihua rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll go to the hospital.’

  He said, ‘Ok, I want to up the ante. If you’re not a virgin, you have to sleep with me ten times.’

  ‘A hundred times is fine,’ Yihua said emphatically.

  Hu put on his helmet, got back on the bike and stepped on the throttle. The motorcycle spat black smoke.

  ‘Get on,’ he called to her.

  She hesitated, looking again at the closed iron gate, then climbed on behind him. He stepped on the accelerator, then stepped on the brake. Yihua’s chest felt like a mechanical spring coming into contact with his back. The rebound scared her so badly she automatically threw her arms around his waist. The motorcycle howled as they shot out into the street and rode toward the hospital.

  *

  The doctor wore an unusual expression from the beginning to the end of the consultation. Finally, he said, ‘I’ve seen many men bring women to me for abortions, but I’ve certainly never had anyone like you two, asking me to check for the hymen.’

  In his defence of women, the doctor advised Hu not to concern himself too much with that membrane. What was most important was that she was a good person. Hu laughed, and he now seemed very young to Yihua. She said, ‘I was the one who wanted to come here.’

  The doctor looked askance at her, but said nothing. He waved her into the waiting room.

  When Yihua dared to go to the hospital, Hu believed she was a virgin – and even believed the sow had climbed a tree. He read the text beneath an image on the publicity material in the hospital’s corridor, then secretly shook his head and clicked his tongue. He was not as sophisticated as he appeared to be, when it came to women.

  He was taking a closer look at the picture of the woman’s ovaries and uterus. Suddenly, he heard Yihua wailing inside the room.

  ‘No! How could that be? Honestly, no man has ever touched me!’ Yihua cried.

  ‘Ah, don’t be so agitated. Just because your hymen is torn doesn’t mean you’re not a virgin. Vigorous exercise, some vaginal medications, or using devices when you masturbate can all lead to this result. But we can repair it, if you need.’

  ‘I don’t need some fake thing. I wouldn’t use it to cheat anyone anyway.’

  Yihua snatched the medical record and strode out of the examination room. She walked straight out to the hospital’s car park before she even turned around. Hu was following close behind. She said to him, ‘Damn me. I don’t have a good explanation for this.’

  ‘I believe you,’ he sa
id.

  ‘I’ll do what we agreed. I’ll sleep with you ten times. But, my first time will be with my boyfriend.’

  ‘You have a boyfriend?’

  ‘I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. Let’s go bail him out.’

  ‘OK. But you owe me ten times.’ He stepped on the throttle, and black smoke rolled from the bike’s rear end. ‘When this is over, I want to get my fill.’

  I was browsing the internet when my colleague shouted, ‘Li Xiaohan, someone is here to see you.’

  I stood up, ran my eyes over the grid of cubicles in the office, and saw Liu Yihua. I was so surprised by how she had blossomed that I neglected her distracted look.

  ‘Auntie,’ she called, looking sorrowful.

  I thought her father must have died, and my heart did a flip and sank. Although I did not like Zhima, his death would certainly not be a good thing.

  I took Yihua into a small conference room. As I poured her a glass of water, I noticed that she was trembling slightly.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked her. We did not see each other often, and there was a little distance and awkwardness caused by our generation gap.

  Yihua made a lengthy case, relating to me the entire history of her and Liuzi in Guangzhou. This was the first time I had heard Liuzi’s name. At the time, I did not have any idea that, two months later, his name would rewrite the whole C&R system and be recorded in history.

  I was not interested in Yihua’s love affair with this tough guy from the streets, and even resented it. I was aware that she had come to Guangzhou to make a living, and I had said harsh words early on, telling her that I did not introduce jobs contacts to anyone who did not like to study or go to university. Unexpectedly, I felt guilty when I met Yihua. We were in the same city, but I had been indifferent to her situation. As if to make up for it, I asked now, ‘Where are you working? Is everything going smoothly?’