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Authors: Yu Hua,Andrew F. Jones

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Literary, #Reference, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary Fiction, #Classics, #Fiction

Chronicle of a Blood Merchant (4 page)

BOOK: Chronicle of a Blood Merchant
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CHAPTER SIX

Xu Sanguan sat back in a rattan chair, his feet resting on a stool.

Xu Yulan approached him and said, “Xu Sanguan, we’re running out of rice. There’s just enough for tonight. Here are the grain coupons, the money, and the rice sack. Go down to the store and buy some rice.”

Xu Sanguan said, “I’m not going to buy the rice. I’m not going to do anything around here anymore. As soon as I come home, all I’m going to do is sit back and enjoy myself. You know what that means? I’m going to sit in this chair, with my feet up on the stool, just like I’m doing now. You know why I’m going to sit back and enjoy myself? To punish you. You made a serious mistake. You slept with that bastard He Xiaoyong behind my back. What’s even worse is that he knocked you up with Yile. It makes me angry just to think about it. You want me to go buy you rice? Dream on.”

Xu Yulan said, “I can’t lift one hundred pounds of rice by myself.”

Xu Sanguan said, “Then get fifty.”

“I can’t handle fifty pounds either.”

“Try twenty-five.”

XU YULAN said, “Xu Sanguan, I’m going to wash the sheets. Will you help me move the trunk? I can’t move it by myself.”

Xu Sanguan said, “Nothing doing. I’m sitting back in my chair and enjoying myself.”

XU YULAN said, “Xu Sanguan, time to eat.”

Xu Sanguan replied, “Bring me my bowl. I’ll sit in my chair and eat.”

XU YULAN asked, “Xu Sanguan, are you done enjoying yourself yet? I can’t keep my eyes open much longer, so when you’re finished enjoying yourself, get your ass out of that chair and come to bed.”

Xu Sanguan said, “I’ll be right there.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

One good thing about working at the silk factory was that Xu Sanguan was given a new pair of white work gloves every month. When the women on the factory floor saw them, they would always ask with envy in their voices, “Xu Sanguan, how many more years until you decide to switch to a new pair of gloves?”

Xu Sanguan lifted up his hands to show them his tattered old gloves. When he waved his hands, loose threads swung back and forth like so many pendulums from the places where they’d already worn through. “I’ve worn this pair for three years now.”

They said, “You call those things gloves? We can see your fingers sticking out from all the way across the factory floor.”

Xu Sanguan said, “They’re new the first year, and old for the next two years. After two years I’ll mend them. That way I’ll be able to use this pair for at least three more years.”

They said, “Xu Sanguan, if you wear the same pair of gloves for six years and the factory gives you a new pair every month, what does that get you? Six years of gloves comes to seventy-two pairs. What are you going to do with the seventy-one pairs that you
don’t
wear? What’s the point of hoarding that many gloves? Why don’t you give some of them to us? We only get a new pair every six months.”

Xu Sanguan carefully folded his new gloves, placed them in his pocket, and smilingly made his way home. When he arrived, he took the gloves from his pocket and presented them to Xu Yulan. Xu Yulan took them and immediately walked over to the window, lifting the gloves to the light to see if they were sewn of coarse or fine cotton thread.

“Aiya!”

Her exclamations always scared Xu Sanguan into thinking she had discovered that this month’s gloves were moth-eaten.

“They’re the good kind.”

There were two days every month when Xu Yulan would stick out her hands and say to Xu Sanguan as he got home from work, “Hand it over.” The first day was payday and the other was when the factory distributed new gloves.

Xu Yulan stored the gloves at the bottom of the trunk. When she saved up four pairs of gloves, she could use them to make a sweater for Sanle. With six pairs she could make one for Erle. Once she had eight or nine, she could sew a sweater for Yile.

But it would take more than twenty pairs to make Xu Sanguan a new sweater, which gave her pause. She would often say to Xu Sanguan, “Your arms are getting bigger, there’s more meat around your waist, and you’re putting a little weight on your stomach. Now even twenty pairs of gloves won’t be enough.”

Xu Sanguan said, “Then why don’t you just make something for yourself?”

Xu Yulan said, “I’ll wait and see.”

Xu Yulan didn’t sew anything for herself until she had collected seventeen or eighteen pairs of the finer quality gloves. And Xu Sanguan only brought home three or four pairs of the fine cotton gloves every year. After nine years of marriage she decided to use seven years of gloves to make herself a good sweater.

Xu Yulan finished sewing the sweater just as spring came and the weather began to warm. She washed her hair by the well, sat on the doorstep holding the as-yet-unbroken mirror in her hand, and issued directions to Xu Sanguan as he stood behind her, trimming her hair. When he was finished, she sat in the sun to dry her hair. Then she smeared a thick layer of Snowflower cream across her face and, redolent with its fragrance, donned her newly crocheted sweater. Finally, she pulled her only silk scarf from out of the trunk, tied it around her neck, and stepped out the door.

Before she took another step, she turned and addressed Xu Sanguan. “You sift and wash the rice, okay? You’re cooking. I’m on vacation today. No housework for me today. I’m going out for a walk now.”

Xu Sanguan said, “What? You had your ‘vacation’ just last week! How come you’re on vacation again today?”

“I’m not having my period. Can’t you see I’m wearing my new sweater?”

She wore the sweater for two years. She washed it five times and mended it once, using the fine thread of one pair of the better quality gloves to make a patch. Xu Yulan wanted Xu Sanguan to bring more of the better gloves home from the factory, because that way “I can have a new sweater.”

Whenever Xu Yulan was deciding whether to use up another glove, she would stick her head out the window to see if the stars were shining. When she saw the moon shining brightly in the night sky and the stars shimmering next to it, she knew the sun would be bright the next day and she could go ahead and unravel a glove.

Unraveling a glove was a job for two people. First, she needed to find the ends of the thread. Once she had pulled them out, it was merely a question of continuing to unravel the thread while at the same time spooling the cotton around two outstretched arms in order to pull it taut. The thread from the just-unraveled gloves was usually too crooked for sewing, so she would have to soak it in water for two or three hours. After removing the thread from the water, she would suspend it from a bamboo pole to dry in the sun, letting the weight of the water pull the cotton threads straight.

Xu Yulan was about to unravel a glove. In need of two outstretched arms, she called, “Yile, Yile!”

Yile ran into the house from outside. “Did you call me, Mom?”

Xu Yulan said, “Yile, help me unravel this glove.”

Yile shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

When he had gone, Xu Yulan called, “Erle, Erle!”

When Erle came home and saw that she wanted him to help her unravel a glove, he sat happily down on the stool and immediately stuck out his arms so that she could spool the thread around them.

Sanle came over to join them, standing next to Erle and sticking out his arms in imitation of his big brother. When Xu Yulan saw him trying to usurp his big brother’s role, she said, “Sanle, get out of here. Your hands are covered with snot.”

Whenever Xu Yulan and Erle sat together, they would always talk for what seemed like forever. She was a thirty-year-old woman, and he an eight-year-old boy, but their conversations sounded either like the gossip exchanged by a pair of thirty-year-old women, or the banter of two eight-year-old boys. They would talk at every opportunity—as they ate, before they went to sleep, as they walked together down the street—and their conversations became more and more animated as they continued.

Xu Yulan might say, “I saw the Zhangs’ daughter the other day. The Zhangs who live on the south side. That girl’s getting prettier and prettier.”

Erle said, “Do you mean the Zhang girl whose braids come down to her rear end?”

Xu Yulan said, “That’s the one. She’s the girl who gave you a handful of watermelon seeds that time. Don’t you think she’s getting better looking all the time?”

Erle said, “I heard some people calling her Big Boobs Zhang.”

Xu Yulan said, “I saw Lin Fenfang over at the silk factory wearing some white sneakers over red nylon socks. I’ve seen red nylon socks before, Lin Pingping around the corner wore them a few days back. But it was first time I’ve ever seen women’s sneakers that come in white.”

Erle said, “I’ve seen those before. There was a pair on display at the counter in the department store.”

Xu Yulan said, “I’ve seen plenty of men’s sneakers in white. Lin Pingping’s brother has a pair. And Wang Defu on our street.”

Erle said, “That lady who always goes over to Wang Defu’s house wears white sneakers too . . .”

Xu Yulan said. Erle said. And so on.

But Yile and Xu Yulan had very little to say to each other. Yile never wanted to hang around Xu Yulan or do anything with her. If Xu Yulan was going to buy vegetables at the market, she would call to him, “Yile, help me carry the shopping basket.”

Yile would say, “I don’t want to.”

“Yile, help me thread this needle.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Yile, fold the laundry.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Yile . . .”

“I don’t want to.”

Then Xu Yulan’s temper flared, and she would shout, “What
do
you want to do?”

Xu Sanguan paced back and forth across the room, looking up at the rays of sunlight filtering down into the house through the ceiling. Then he said, “I’m going up on the roof to fix the tiles. Otherwise, when the rainy season comes and it’s pouring outside, it’ll be drizzling in here too.”

Yile quickly said to Xu Sanguan, “Dad, let me go borrow a ladder.”

Xu Sanguan said, “You’re still too little to carry a ladder.”

“Dad, will you let me ask for it? Then you can carry it home yourself.”

When Xu Sanguan got the ladder home and was about to climb up to the roof, Yile said, “Dad, I’ll hold the ladder steady for you as you climb up.”

Xu Sanguan mounted the roof, the tiles below squeaking and straining under his weight. As soon as he reached the roof, Yile was off like a shot. He ran to get Xu Sanguan’s teapot and set it down next to the bottom of the ladder. Then he ran to get a washbasin, filled it with water, and folded a washcloth neatly over the rim.

Finally, teapot in hand, he shouted up to the roof, “Dad, come down and take a break. I brought you some tea.”

Xu Sanguan, standing on the roof, replied, “I don’t want any tea. I just got up here.”

Yile wrung out the towel, draped it over his arm, and called up to the roof, “Dad, come down and take a break. I brought you a washcloth.”

Xu Sanguan, squatting atop the roof tiles, replied, “I’m not sweaty.”

Sanle wobbled toward them. As soon as Yile saw him coming, he waved him off. “Sanle, go away. This is none of your business.”

But Sanle didn’t want to leave. He walked under the ladder and held it steady.

Yile said, “We don’t need you to hold the ladder now.”

So Sanle sat down on the first rung of the ladder.

Yile, at his wit’s end, looked up and shouted, “Dad, Sanle won’t go away.”

Xu Sanguan shouted at Sanle from the rooftop, “Sanle, go away. What if one of these tiles were to fall and hit your head?”

Yile often said to Xu Sanguan, “Dad, I don’t like to be with mom and the rest of them. All they do is go on and on about which girls are pretty and who has the nicest clothes. I like to spend time with the men. Men talk about more interesting stuff.”

Xu Sanguan, wooden bucket in hand, went to the well to get water. The rope attached to the handle of the bucket had been soaked a hundred times and dried in the sun just as many times. This time, when Xu Sanguan attempted to draw the bucket out of the well, all that emerged was a piece of broken rope. The bucket had been swallowed up by the water and sunk to the bottom of the well.

Xu Sanguan went home and fetched a long bamboo pole that they usually used for hanging the wash out to dry. Then he brought a stool over to the side of the well, sat down, and working with a pair of pliers, fashioned a slender hook out of a piece of wire. With another piece of wire, he fastened the hook to the end of the pole.

When Yile saw him, he walked over and asked, “Dad, did the bucket fall into the well again?”

Xu Sanguan nodded. “Help me make a knot.”

Yile sat down on the ground next to him and held the long pole steady while Xu Sanguan fastened the hook onto its tip. Then Yile took one end of the pole over his shoulder and Xu Sanguan took the other end. Father and son carried the pole over to the well.

Usually it only took Xu Sanguan less than an hour or so to find the bucket. He would reach down into the well with the pole and feel around the bottom. After thirty minutes or an hour he was able to hook the handle of the wooden bucket and bring it back up to the surface.

But this time he grappled with the pole for almost an hour and a half, all to no avail. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he said, “It’s not on top, and it isn’t to the left or the right. It just seems like it’s nowhere to be found. Must be that it landed handle side down. This time it’s bad. This time we’re in real trouble.” He slid the pole from out of the water and laid it across the top of the well, scratching his head in bewilderment.

Yile bent over the edge of the well and gazed down at the water for a moment. Then he said, “Dad, look how hot and sweaty I am.”

Xu Sanguan grunted absently.

“Hey, Dad, you still remember the time I put my face in the washbasin and held my breath? I was under water for one minute and twenty-three seconds.”

Xu Sanguan said, “If the handle’s on the bottom, what the hell are we going to do?”

Yile said, “Dad, the well’s too deep. I’m too scared to jump. Dad, the well’s too deep, and I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to get back out. Dad, get some rope to tie to my waist. Let me down little by little, and then I’ll dive in. I can dive for one minute and twenty-three seconds. I’ll find the bucket, and then you can pull me up.”

Xu Sanguan, slowly coming to the realization that Yile’s plan might actually work, ran home to grab a length of brand-new rope. He was afraid that if he fastened him with a piece of old rope, Yile might disappear down the well just like the bucket. That would really be the end.

Xu Sanguan wound the two ends of the rope around Yile’s thighs and then fastened the rope to his own belt. Just as he began to let Yile slide slowly down into the well, Sanle came wobbling over toward them. As soon as he approached, Xu Sanguan warned him, “Sanle, go away! You might fall down the well.”

Sanle stood quietly to one side as the rope, and Yile along with it, slid deeper and deeper into the well. Soon the rope went taut and tugged sharply at Xu Sanguan’s belt.

Xu Sanguan began to slowly and softly count the seconds to himself as Sanle, mouth agape, looked on. “Ten seconds . . . twenty seconds . . . thirty seconds . . . forty seconds . . .” Xu Sanguan paused to take a deep breath and continued, “Fifty seconds . . . sixty seconds . . . one minute and ten seconds . . .”

There was a sudden sharp tug on his belt that dragged Xu Sanguan a step closer to the mouth of the well. He braced his feet against the stone steps and began to pull with all his might on the rope. Sanle took up the count where his father had left off, sounding out the seconds as Xu Sanguan panted with the effort of pulling the rope up from the depths: “One minute and eleven seconds . . . one minute and fifteen seconds . . . one minute and twenty seconds . . .” Xu Sanguan heard what sounded like the distant echo of a heavy stone falling into the water, and then a gasp and a splutter as Yile emerged above the surface of the water.

BOOK: Chronicle of a Blood Merchant
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