Life and Death are Wearing Me Out (46 page)

BOOK: Life and Death are Wearing Me Out
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“Children’s father . . .” Finally she spoke.

The pole stopped in midair after a couple more swings. Like a scarecrow, he just stood there without moving.

“The children are married. We needn’t worry any longer,” Ying-chun said. Then she sighed. “I’ve brought you a bottle of liquor. Whatever else he may be, he’s still your son.”

Lan Lian made a grunting sound and swung the pole back and forth twice.

“Director Pang brought his wife and daughter to the banquet and presented both couples with framed mirrors inlaid with images of Chairman Mao.” Raising her voice slightly, she said emotionally, “Director Pang has been promoted to head of a cotton processing plant, and he’s agreed to give jobs to Jiefang and Hezuo. It was Secretary Hong’s idea. Jinlong, Baofeng, and Jiefang have been treated well by Secretary Hong, who is a good man. Don’t you think we should comply with his wishes?”

The pole waved violently in the air, snagging some flying moths in the red cloth; with loud chirps they crashed to the ground.

“Okay, I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t be angry. Do as you wish. By now everyone’s used to what you’re doing. This is, after all, our sons’ wedding day, and I’ve come out here in the middle of the night so you can drink some of the wedding liquor. I’ll leave after that.”

Yingchun took a bottle out of her basket; it sparkled in the moonlight. After removing the cork, she walked up and handed it to him from behind.

The pole stopped again. He stood frozen to the spot. I saw tears glisten in his eyes as he rested the pole on his shoulder and tipped back his hat to gaze at the moon, which, naturally, looked down sadly at him. He took the bottle, but didn’t turn his head.

“Maybe you’re right, all of you, maybe I’m the only one who’s wrong. But I made a vow, and if I’m wrong, then that’s how I’ll end up.”

“After Baofeng is married,” Yingchun said, “I’ll leave the commune and stay with you.”

“No, independent farming means doing it alone. I don’t need anybody else. I have nothing against the Communist Party and I definitely have nothing against Chairman Mao. I’m not opposed to the People’s Commune or to collectivization. I just want to be left alone to work for myself. Crows everywhere in the world are black. Why can’t there be at least one white one? That’s me, a white crow!” He splashed some of the liquor up toward the moon and, in a voice as rousing, as stirring, and as desolate as I’ve ever heard, cried out, “Moon, you’ve accompanied me in my labors all these years, you’re a lantern sent to me by the Old Man in the Sky. I’ve tilled the soil by your light, I’ve sown seeds by your light, and I’ve brought in harvests by your light. . . . You say nothing, you are never angry or resentful, and I’m forever in your debt. So tonight permit me to drink to you as an expression of my gratitude. Moon, I’ve troubled you for so long!”

The colorless liquor dispersed in the air like pearls tinged with blue. The moon trembled slightly and winked at Lan Lian. I can’t remember being so moved by anything. In an age when throngs of people sang the praises of the sun, it was unheard of for someone to hold such deep feelings for the moon. Lan Lian poured the last few drops of the liquor into his mouth, then held the bottle up over his shoulder.

“Okay,” he said, “you can go now.”

With a wave of his pole, he started walking. Yingchun got down on her knees, brought her hands together, and raised them to the moon, which shone down gently on her dancing tears, her graying hair, and her quivering lips . . .

In the face of this mutual love, I stood up in total disregard of the possible consequences, for I believed they would know in their hearts who I was and would not take me as some sort of monster. Supporting my front hooves on the springy tops of wheat stalks, I walked up to them along one of the field ridges. Clasping my hooves together, I bowed to them and made a pig noise to greet them. They gaped at me, blank looks that held shock and puzzlement. I am Ximen Nao, I said. I distinctly heard human sounds emerge from my throat, but there was no reaction from them. After what seemed like a long time, Yingchun shrieked, while Lan Lian pointed his pole at me and said:

“Pig demon, kill me if that’s what you want, but I beg you, please don’t trample my crops.”

Crippling sadness suddenly filled my heart. Humans and beasts walk down separate roads that virtually never intersect. Lowering myself down on all fours, I fled through the wheat field, crestfallen. But my mood improved the closer I came to Apricot Garden. All creatures on earth follow their own nature. Birth, old age, sickness, and death; joys and sorrows, partings and reunions, are dictated by irreversible objective laws. I was a boar at the time, so I had to carry out my boar responsibilities. Lan Lian stuck by his obstinacy to remain apart from the masses, so it was necessary for me, Pig Sixteen, to use my great intelligence, extreme courage, and extraordinary physical abilities to accomplish something that would stun the world, and crowd my piggish way into human history.

After entering Apricot Garden, I pretty much put Lan Lian and Yingchun out of my mind. Why? Because I saw that Diao Xiaosan had already seduced Butterfly Lover and had her hot to trot. Of the other twenty-nine sows, fourteen had already escaped from their pens, while the remaining fifteen were either banging their heads against the gates or crying to the moon. A grand prologue to mating was slowly opening. Before the major player had made his appearance, his understudy was already onstage. Damn him! I wouldn’t allow it.

29
Pig Sixteen Battles Diao Xiaosan
The Straw Hat Song Accompanies a Loyalty Dance

Diao Xiaosan sat with his back against the renowned apricot tree, holding an upturned straw hat filled with yellow apricots. One after another, he picked them up with his right hoof and tossed them into his mouth, smacking his lips as he ate the fruit and then spit out the pits, which landed several yards away. Resting under a skinny apricot tree separated some four or five yards from Diao Xiaosan, Butterfly Lover held a broken plastic comb in one hand and a hand mirror in the other, putting on flirtatious, coquettish airs. Ah, dear sow, your weakness is coveting petty gains. A tiny mirror and a broken comb, and you would take any boar to bed. Every so often Diao threw one of his apricots over to where the dozen or so sows that had escaped from their pens were glancing longingly in his direction and oinking suggestively They fought over every one. Little Brother, don’t hanker only after Butterfly Lover, we love you too and we’d be happy to help you carry on your line. The sows teased him with the most suggestive language they knew The thought of obtaining a wife and a harem made him deliriously happy, as if floating on air. After shaking his legs, he began to hum a little tune and, hat in hand, danced a jig. The sows joined in, some twirling in place and others rolling on the ground. The wretched quality of their dancing aroused feelings of contempt in me. Butterfly Lover laid her mirror and comb down at the base of the tree and began wiggling her bottom, setting her tail in motion as she sidled over to Diao Xiaosan. As soon as she was near enough, she dropped her head and raised her hindquarters. With that in sight, I leaped into the air like an antelope out on the Serengeti and landed in the space between Butterfly Lover and Diao Xiaosan. Now they could only dream about the joy they nearly made a reality.

My appearance on the scene threw cold water on Butterfly Lover’s burning desire. She turned and retreated back to the skinny apricot tree, where she put her purple tongue to work picking up wormy red apricot leaves that had fallen to the ground and curling them into her mouth. She chewed the fruit with gusto. Fickleness and a tendency to change their mind whenever they saw something new was part of the sows’ nature, so they could hardly be blamed for doing what came naturally. That in itself guaranteed that supplying sperm with the finest genes to merge with their eggs in the womb was the way to produce superior offspring. That logic is so simple even pigs understand it, so how could a boar with the intelligence of Diao Xiaosan not? He flung his straw hat at me along with the remaining apricots.

“You spoiled my fun, you son of a bitch!” he cursed angrily.

I jumped out of the way and, with a good eye and quick hoof, snatched up the hat by its brim, and reared back until I was standing up straight. Holding my free hoof up in the air, I spun around and, with the gathered momentum, flung the hat and its apricot contents like a discus thrower. The golden yellow hat curved in a beautiful arc on its way to the moon. Suddenly, the strains of a moving straw hat song filled the air above us:
La-la-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la

Mama’s straw hat is flying la

Mama’s straw hat is flying to the moon

La-ya la-la-ya-la
— The sows under the tree were joined in song by hundreds of pigs in the farm; some jumped out of their pens, while those that lacked the ability stood up with their hooves on the walls, and all of them gazed up at the moon. I settled back down on all fours and said calmly, yet decisively:

“Old Diao, I did what I did to ensure that the generations of pigs to come are produced by the finest genes, not to spoil your fun.”

Once again I raised up on my hind legs and charged him; he reacted by charging me, and we crashed into each other — snout to snout — five or six feet above the ground. I not only got a firsthand sensation of how hard his snout was, but also got a whiff of the sickly sweet odor in his mouth. My snout ached and a song was echoing in my ears as I hit the ground. I was on my feet after a quick somersault. I rubbed my nose with a hoof, which came away stained with drops of blue blood.

“You motherfucker!” I cursed under my breath.

Diao Xiaosan also somersaulted himself back onto his feet and rubbed his nose. His hoof also came away stained with drops of blue blood. “You motherfucker!” he cursed under his breath.

La-la-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la

I’ve lost the straw hat Mama gave me
— The straw-hat song swirled in the air, the moon rolled back toward me and stopped directly overhead, where it rose and fell like a flying boat being tossed about by wind currents. The straw hat circled it gracefully, like a satellite to the moon.
La-ya-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la

Mama’s straw hat is lost
— Some of the pigs smacked their front hooves together, some stomped their rear hooves on the ground, rhythmically, as they sang the straw hat song.

I picked up an apricot leaf, chewed it, then spit it out into my hoof and stuffed it up my bloody nose. Now I was ready for the next assault. I saw that Diao was bleeding from both nostrils, blue blood that dripped to the ground, where each drop shone like a will-o’-the-wisp. Deep down I was happy. The first round had produced no victor and no vanquished, although I knew I held the advantage, since only one of my nostrils was bleeding, not both. Diao’s eyes rolled furtively, almost as if he were searching for an apricot leaf. I guess you’d like to stuff leaves up your nose, too, pal, is that it? Well, I’m not giving you the chance. With a loud battle oink, I flashed him a piercing glare and flexed every muscle in my body, concentrating all my power into one mighty leap.

This time, instead of leaping into the air, the sly devil slithered along the ground, and I just sailed through the air, all the way to the canopy of the crooked apricot tree. I immediately heard a series of loud cracks, just before I crashed to the ground, headfirst, carrying a thick forked limb down with me. A quick somersault and I was back on my feet again, but dizzy as can be and my mouth full of mud.
La-la-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la
— The sows clapped their hooves and sang. They were not my fans. Too easily swayed, they were ready to raise their bottoms to accept whoever came out on top. Conquest makes you the king. Diao Xiaosan, extremely pleased with himself, stood up on his hind legs and bowed in the direction of the huddled sows. He blew them a kiss. Despite the fact that dirty blood was still dripping from his nose and despite the fact that the blood had badly soiled his chest, the sows raised a chorus of cheers. That made him even more pleased with himself. Taking large, confident strides, he walked up next to me, grabbed the broken, fruit-laden limb with his teeth, and pulled it out from under my hindquarters. The insolent bastard! But I was still dizzy.
La-la-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la
— I just let my eyes follow him as he dragged the fruit-laden limb out from under me and backed away. He rested a few seconds before continuing on his way. The limb made a scraping noise as it scratched the surface of the ground.
La-la-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la

Little Brother, aren’t you something!
— I was furious and itched to charge him again, but I was still too dizzy to do anything. Diao Xiaosan dragged the limb up to Butterfly Lover and stood up on his hind legs. He then took a step backward with his right leg, bent over at the waist, and held out his right front hoof, like a white-gloved gentleman. With a half-circle sweep of the hoof, he said, For you, young lady . . .
La-ya la-la-ya-la
— Turning to the dozen sows and the castrated boars farther off, he waved them over. With a chorus of joyful oinks, they converged on the limb, quickly tearing it apart. A couple of the bolder males made an attempt to sidle up to the apricot tree, and so I stood up. I saw a sow strutting proudly away with a heavily laden branch she’d managed to get away with, her big, floppy ears slapping her cheeks. Diao Xiaosan walked around blowing kisses until a sinister-looking castrato stuck his front hooves in his mouth and sent a loud whistle knifing through the air. The pigs all quieted down.

I fought to compose myself, knowing that in a contest of raw courage I’d suffer a humiliating defeat. That I could live with, somehow, but not the loss of a wife and harem to Diao Xiaosan, because in another five months, the farm would be increased by several hundred new pigs — long-nosed, pointy-eared little monsters. I made my tail twitch and shook out my limbs; I spit out the mud in my mouth and, while I was at it, scooped up some apricots that blanketed the ground, nearly all of which had fallen to the ground when I hit the tree — ripe, sweet, honeyed.
La-ya-la

La-ya la-la-yala

Mama’s straw hat is flying around the moon, changing from a golden color to a silvery one
— Chewing and swallowing several apricots calmed me down and soothed my mouth and throat. And so, seeing no need for anxiety, I slowly ate my fill. I watched as Diao picked up an apricot with his hoof and put it up next to Butterfly Lover’s mouth. With little-girl coyness, she refused to eat it. My mother told me I wasn’t supposed to eat just anything from a boar, she said with sweet affectation. Your mother doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Diao said as he shoved the apricot into her mouth, enough of a distraction for him to plant a noisy kiss on her ear. Kiss! the pigs all called out. Kiss!
La-ya-la

La-ya la-la-yala
— They’d forgotten all about me, I figured. They must have thought the outcome was clear, and I had no choice but to admit defeat. Most had come from Mount Yimeng with Diao Xiaosan, and they favored him. God-fucking-dammit! The time had come. I mustered all my strength and charged Diao Xiaosan again, soaring in the air and inspiring Diao to repeat his previous tactic of slipping under me as I passed overhead. Well, my friend, that’s exactly what I wanted you to do. I landed solidly at the foot of the skinny apricot tree, right beside Butterfly Lover. In other words, Diao and I changed places. And the first thing I did was lift a front hoof and slap Butterfly Lover across the face, then I pushed her to the ground, drawing a shriek from her. There was no doubt in my mind that Diao would turn around and come at me, and at that moment, my two enormous balls, the most vulnerable and treasured part of my body, were hanging out there in his line of sight. If he butted his head into them or took a bite out of them, that’d be the end of that. It was a dangerous game of chess, like cutting off all avenues of escape. So I looked behind me out of the corner of both eyes, knowing I had to seize the moment, and saw the blood that was spurting from the savage beast’s wide-open mouth and the ominous glare in his eyes.
La-ya-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la
— My life was hanging by a thread, so I rested my front hooves on Butterfly Lover’s body and raised my rear legs, a sort of handstand, if you will, and when Diao came at me like a shot, he slipped under my belly, and all I had to do was settle back and I was astride him. He was totally defenseless. I stuck my hooves in his eyes — no more glare.
La-ya-la

La-ya la-la-ya-la

Mama’s straw hat has flown up to the moon

Taking my loves and my ideals with it
— Sure, the tactic was on the cruel side, but this was such an important moment that I couldn’t concern myself with sermons of hypocrisy.

BOOK: Life and Death are Wearing Me Out
4.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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