The Embroidered Shoes

by Can Xue

  “I heard,” the guy said in a rush, because my third daughter had given him a kick in secret. “In the gunnysack there’s an animal that is harmful to the health. This is only a wild guess. In fact, nobody can tell if there is anything inside the bag. Therefore, illusions occur, gossip follows, unfair criticism comes…” He stopped short as my third daughter was ordering him to “scram.” She complained that his mouth “stinks”; it was caused by “eating rotten stuff the whole year round.”

  In those days when I set out to look for the camel, my sister ran away with a geomancer. That guy had only half of a real body. At night, I saw him disconnect the other half, while talking to me offhandedly: “As a matter of fact, half is enough.” When he lay down, he looked as if chopped in half with a knife. “Some kind of insect has grown on my body. They have eaten up the other half. The whole process was carried out without my knowing it.”

  Before the elopement, my sister and I squatted in the kitchen, discussing the series of strange things that had happened in the corridor. Blushing, she told me that she had seen a bloody rooster pecking the wood on the doorframe when she opened the door to the corridor early in the morning of the thirtieth. Headless nuns streamed past. “They looked full of thoughts. I could see that from their chests.” While talking, she glanced at me in fear that I did not believe her. The incident happened one midnight. I opened the door to the corridor with a yawn, and immediately I realized that something had happened. Every door was tightly closed, yet the corridor was swept by beams of electric light, as if people were pointing their flashlights from above. This was very absurd. The north wind was blowing outside. A thin man came toward me.

  “That’s your son.” My sister tugged the corner of my clothes with excitement. “I’m instructing him to cultivate another kind of lifestyle. Be careful, be careful, don’t bump him. This is a successful try. Of course, I have to teach him how to wipe his rear end. I didn’t see much hope at the beginning.”

  While she was talking, her body gave off the smell of horse urine. She was born a country woman. I didn’t really see my son. There was a human figure, but it disappeared in a glance. But she simply refused to let go of it, arguing for my son doing some experiment. Then we stopped our quarrel and closed the door, because numerous wild pigeons had flown in. I believe that the pigeons were raised by the guy seduced by my daughter. This fellow was suffering from cancer, and he had to find a prank to cheer himself up. At the same time, he could create an atmosphere that made himself the center of attention.

  “In the dusk, roses are blooming, wild pigeons are singing. You can’t help feeling carefree and joyous,” Sister rattled on. “Some people who don’t possess a heroic personality have collapsed, and they’ve developed a mood of resistance. These people are determined to live a kind of nondescript, weird life that runs counter to both reality and law. The fiancé of your third girl belongs to this type. You can find such people everywhere. They are easy to recognize. All you need to do is check their ears and eyes. These people are all cross-eyed, flap-eared, their lobes swollen and purple.” Talking thus, she came over to check my ears. Grabbing my ear, she jabbed it with a hairpin.

  “Bumpkin!” I yelled, and escaped from her grasp.

  She continued, “There’s a subtle relationship between protruding ears and crossed eyes. This has provided us reliable evidence. Talking about raising pigeons, this is an example of an attempt at self-exploration. In other words, the final result of the resisting mood. Such a result is usually interesting. I once had a friend who didn’t raise pigeons, but instead just moved his furniture around and around. He was very sick. One of his eyes had lost its eyeball. Diastolic pressure of 110 is a separation. In the countryside, all such diseases will be cured in the natural scenery.”

  I should have gotten the hint from this (that is, fled), but the damned pigeons were swooping high and low, distracting my attention. While I was flailing at those birds, my sister blew a very strange whistle, forcing the birds to expel their shit. All at once, pigeon excrement fell like a storm. The whole room stank. Before I could climb out of the plastic shelter where I had taken cover, my sister had already escaped.

  Now I remember the incident: The camel came here from the fire. At that moment, the sandy wind was so strong that I could not stand steadily. When the fire had burned to the top of the pagoda, a window below opened, and the camel stretched out its tamed head. The scene had stayed in my memory for so long that I did not feel any surprise when I was riding on its back. It simply came here naturally. Ever since its disappearance, I have been wandering around the blackened pagoda every day. I peep into every open window, only to hear wild pigeons flapping their wings in the empty pagoda, which they have turned into their nest. The fire was odd, as it did not burn anything down. When I asked my son about the cause of the fire, he was tying a slipknot in a rope and attaching one end to the bed. He asked me to put one leg into the knot, then he tied my leg up suddenly.

  “Tonight, I’m going to tie up both of your legs so that you won’t stamp on the little strolling parrots. All those wonders that you told me about happened before our birth. We were thrilled every time you opened your mouth. A few days ago, you broke the mirror, saying there was flame licking out of it. You are so rude. The mirror was our family heirloom. I saw you running around the house, writing obscenities with chalk on the wall of the public toilet. You looked jubilant when you returned. You even told me that you’d been to the forest when you lost your way while looking for the camel. But where was the camel to start with? I said so at the time just to please you. But you simply wouldn’t let go of it, pursuing something unrealistic and out of date. You’ve become so crazy that everybody has a headache. Let me tell you, this so-called camel is only a symbol and sign of the color blue. If you are so foolish as to look for its existence, that’s a road toward death.”

  He forgot me completely after his lecture and resumed playing with his marbles, despite the fact that one of his old mother’s legs was tied to the bed.

  5. MY FIRST DREAM

  I dreamed an oval square with silver sand on the ground. Gazing into the distance, I saw the short black houses glaring covetously. There was no sun in the sky. The sand was shining as if it were alive. I put on my sunglasses in fear that my eyes would get irritated. I was not standing in the square. In the bluish white sky cinereous vultures floated, casting huge, dark shadows on the square. Then the silver sand would shiver as if suffering from convulsions. Tears froze on my cornea like wax.

  “The wind is coming, Mother,” I said somewhere outside the square, choking with sobs.

  The square was very big. A stretch of black ditches framed the shining sand inside. The sandy wind smelled like granite. This smell was very familiar, as it often filled the air in my room at midnight. As soon as it came, three persimmons dropped from the persimmon tree: tap, tap, tap. At that instant, a black hole appeared in my memory, resembling the black hole on a lung in an X-ray negative. I had to open the window and take some fresh air. I wondered if many people would show up from the houses surrounding the square if the sun came out. Yet the sky was forever bluish white, with neither sun nor moon.

  I mumbled blindly: “Now it’s morning.” As I spoke, I heard a rooster’s crow mimic my voice. I knew it was my own imagination. The cinereous vultures were still circling mechanically. The birds had entered an extent of eternity. Their flying was neither fast nor slow, but always steady.

  I felt scared after having this dream. Before dawn, an old man was sweeping the fallen leaves outside. These were big leaves from the Chinese parasol tree, and they made a big noise. A bright green star swam across the window, lighting the room for a minute. I heard my third sister curse “Damn it!” and saw her march to the window to pull down all the curtains in her room. She always closed the curtains after her dreams. Then she would lie in bed shivering with a pale face.

  When I pushed open the door to my father’s room, I found him not in bed, but in his armchair, deep
in thought, his bare feet scratching the floor impatiently.

  “Come in, there’s a draft there.” He saw me without turning his head. “Now you want to talk about your horror. It’s like the black men in your childhood dreams. It makes your heart thump. You have no endurance. Please have a look at this pair of weather-beaten feet, and you will understand everything. We’ve all been there, your mother and I; those cinereous vultures are induced by us. At the beginning, we used to cry while clinging to each other.”

  “They often come at midnight.” I sounded like a good-for-nothing when I started complaining.

  “You should practice breathing in that odor. This is learnable. Your problem is that you lack exercise. Just keep calm, you will become experienced.”

  So that dream was not my unique creation; it was my family legacy. It was true that I understood everything by observing Father’s feet.

  “Are there residents in those houses?”

  Father still did not turn his head, but replied: “You see those small houses. They are only the product of your imagination, because you are never on the square. We can only reach the edge of the square.”

  6. MY SECOND DREAM

  It seemed to be midnight when I entered the forest with my aunt. The moon looked gray, and my aunt had big yellow flecks on her skin. In her hand, she held a worn rubber boot. She squatted down every now and then to pick up something and put it into the boot. I tried very hard to figure out what she was picking up, but failed.

  “Aunty, what are you collecting?”

  “Playing cards,” she shook the boot and laughed. “The ground is littered with such little playthings. I am dazzled. When you pick them up, every piece seems to be an unexpected achievement. I play this game every night. I am so enchanted by it that I sing and dance like a little kid. But your mother never believes such business. I’m going to guide you.”

  The thick bushes opened beside us. This was probably a road. My feet only glided above the road, without touching down. I was not used to this. But the more forcefully I stepped down, the more obvious the feeling of floating became. My body was swinging, my long, narrow shadow looked like a guy walking on stilts.

  The short figure of my aunt came and went among the trees. Her firm voice resounded in the air like the lingering sound of a big bell: “I’m going to guide you.” She entered the thick black forest as if she were entering total emptiness, and she could still see the playing cards scattered on the ground. This was certainly a unique skill. My mother had a similar ability. Once I followed her closely and found her running into an empty deserted stone pit. She circled there several times and then ran all the way back home. As full sisters, their behavior was strikingly identical.

  “There’s a hot spring ahead. Do you see the spout of hot mist? One summer, lilies blossomed all around the hot spring. We collected them seriously, feeling really fulfilled. But when I got to the spring two nights ago, the old man failed to recognize me. Approaching him, I realized that he was chewing the roots of the grass. He told me that his two legs were rooted in the earth.”

  “Could the square be only a model?” I was still pondering this matter. The lily blossoms were another of my aunt’s lies. The reason she left the house with my mother at midnight, sacks in hand, was to dig for gold.

  “There won’t be any solution to such things.” My aunt suddenly hushed me. “In the valley over there, a rabbit once appeared. It was all red. Your mother went crazy because of that. One day I took her to the valley and told her, pointing at a protruding stone, that was the so-called rabbit. I shouted at her for a long time before I realized that her ears were deaf. Aha, a king of spades.”

  She was running far ahead of me, then her voice suddenly stopped. It was very dark, my head grew hot, and I pursued her with all my might. Suddenly I stepped on something soft. It turned out to be my aunt, who had fallen asleep on the ground. She had her worn rubber boot under her head, and her fat body looked swollen and horrifying in the dim light. Without the courage to look at her, I turned around and tried to run. But I couldn’t run at all. Anyway, I assume that I ran out of the forest and found a big stretch of flat land in front of me, and on the land was a tall building, with many open windows and irritating lights. Father was waving at me from one window, all smiles. On his face, he wore a huge artificial beard. He jumped onto the windowsill and sang out at the top of his voice, his thin legs trembling. I was hiding here and there, trying to avoid people and give my legs some rest. But lights were chasing me like hunters pursuing an animal. Then I said: “Now it’s morning.” Immediately I heard the mocking cry of a rooster. This method has become my magic weapon.

  7. MY THIRD DREAM

  I found myself living in a cave—this happened after one of my naps. I dared not open my eyes because I heard two tigers pacing back and forth outside. After a long time I was sure that they had not discovered me, so I opened my eyes and sat up. A beam of sunlight shone down through a crack in the cave. Someone was snoring deep inside the cave. He snored in his sleep as well as when awake. Touching my body, I found myself wearing a set of khaki fatigues. I knew it was only a disguise: No savages living in a cave wore khaki suits. The most they could have had was some hanging leaves. They might even have been naked. I dared not leave the cave, so I stayed there dully till dusk. The two tigers finally left. I could hear the noise they made while descending the mountain. I should have begged for something to eat at the foot of the mountain. As I had no preparation whatsoever for living in a cave, I didn’t need to put on an air if it was only a fraud. I walked for a long time in the confusing mist, then I heard a weird chuckle: a human figure appeared vaguely in the top of the dragon spruce.

  “So you are living in the cave?” he was shouting. “Excellent! It’s very noble to do such a thing!”

  I continued on my way. I felt very bored. I hated to see my shadow, because it too appeared suspiciously vague. This just wasn’t right.

  “You’d better get really prepared if you are determined to live in a cave. That will be an eternal silence.” The man was still shouting; his voice was very irritating. I meant to hide from him in a bush, but he discovered my attempt immediately. So his shouting became all the louder: “Someone is in khaki, someone has a cap without a peak, and he walks loudly. Please pay attention to such matters.”

  I simply squatted down and pressed two stones against my throbbing temples. This proved to be very effective, for I fell into sleep immediately.

  In a minute, I saw my aunt’s fat gray face above my own. She was stroking my face with a pitiful expression. She spat on her palm and then applied it to my neck. The tone of her voice was very emotional and gentle: “You are beset with crises. Your living in a cave has aroused so much disturbance. The cave is so dirty that I feel very worried. I plan to clean it and cover the wall inside with those artistic paper fans and also several porcelain plates. I learned such aesthetic interest from the classmate of your third sister. She is well cultivated.”

  Two pine trees had grown out of the run-down temple at the foot of the mountain. The branches had broken through the roof and stretched toward the sky.

  Could my aunt be the snoring person? So she has been waiting in the darkness for this performance?

  “Someone is raising two panthers in the corridor.” She clenched her teeth. “That’s the guy who was experimenting with growing vegetables. Today the corridor is full of disasters. The day the rain came, I fell asleep on the cement floor of the corridor. I shiver even to recall that. You have to be determined and persistent in order to live in a cave. I had focused so much expectation on it that I was overjoyed from the very beginning.”

  Many vicious black cats attempted to get close. I had this dream during my nap. When I was about to fall asleep, I saw Father’s head pop in, hanging like a pine worm on the wall. Now, I wanted to go to the rock. I would have awakened if I had jumped down.

  8. MY FOURTH DREAM

  I once arranged to go with my father to the riverbank
which was ten li from here to pick up shells and cobblestones. It seemed that we were discussing this matter in a bar. At the time, a skinny guy was squeezing onto the same bench where we sat. He was constantly picking his nostrils and wiping his hands on my father’s back. Whenever we whispered, he would move closer to listen. When I stared at him, I saw that his eyeballs were made of plaster.

  We didn’t carry out our plan immediately after our discussion. As a result, Father made faces, passed code words, and made gestures in front of everybody, as if he had special privilege. I was utterly embarrassed. He even went to the trouble of following me everywhere. No matter whom I was talking with, he would join us. Holding my shoulder and winking at the person, he would interrogate this person rudely: “Hey, do you want to return to the joy of a carefree childhood?” Full of worry, I hid myself behind the toilet, hoping the big dog would appear, as if this would become a life-and-death turning point. But Father immediately joined me in my hiding place and rattled on about our “secret.” While talking, he would elbow my waist, and ask: “Isn’t it a wonderful break? Isn’t it a genius of a creation? How did we come up with such a unique idea?”

  The dog eventually showed up. I jumped on it ferociously but ended up in hitting my mouth against the ground. I made use of the momentum and closed my eyes. I knew that my teeth were bleeding, but I still pretended to be falling into sleep. It was not at all comfortable sleeping beside the toilet, with green-headed flies roiling beside me. But I couldn’t wake up, because my father was waiting for me. Since it was a dream itself, I drifted into yet another dreamy image once I thought like that. In this dream, the earth was so covered with thorn bushes that nobody could move. Somewhere I heard a pair of bare feet running on the playground. The feet were full of corns. Because the feet had been stamping on the crushed stones, they had turned purple and brown. All my family members lay in ambush amidst the Cherokee rosebushes. The wind carried their whispering, and I could see Father’s peaked cap swinging. (Ever since he got bald, he has been wearing that cap.) A pigeon flew out of a Cherokee rosebush into the sky. So there was another trick there.