The Garlic Ballads (18 page)

The permed young man and the woman in red exchanged glances, both looking quite abashed. He took out his billfold and counted its contents, then turned to his companion and said, “Do you have any money, Yingzi?”

“Just a few coins,” she replied.

“Elder Brother,” the permed young man said, “we’ve had a long trip, and this is our last stop. All we’ve got left is forty-three yuan. If you’ll give us an address, we’ll send the seven we owe you as soon as we get home.”

The young beggar took the money, wetted his finger, and carefully counted the bills—twice. Removing a red one-yuan note with a missing corner, he said, “I can’t take this one, sir. You can have it back, and I’ll take the forty-two. Now you owe me eight.”

“Write down your address for us,” the young man said.

“I don’t know how to write,” the beggar said. “Just send it to the President of the United States and ask him to forward it to me. He’s my uncle!”

With that the beggar bowed deeply to the handsome couple and laughed until he was rocking back and forth. Then he turned and presented himself before Jinju and Gao Ma. With a bow he said, “Elder Brother, Elder Sister, how about one of those delicious -looking pears? My throat’s dry from all that barking.”

Jinju picked out a big one and thrust it into the beggar’s hand. He acknowledged the handout with a deep bow before gobbling the pear up, one big bite after another, all the while humming a nasal tune. Then, as if there weren’t another soul in sight, he turned and walked off, his head held high.

Another announcement emerged from the PA system, sending more passengers to the gates to have their tickets punched. The woman in red and the young curlyhead rose and dashed off to the gate, dragging a suitcase on rollers behind them.

“What about us?” Jinju asked Gao Ma.

He looked at his watch. “Forty minutes more,” he said. “I’m getting a little impatient myself.”

By this time there were no more passengers sleeping on the benches, although people continued to enter and leave the waiting room, including an old beggar who quaked from head to toe, and a woman with a child in tow, also asking for handouts. A middle-aged man in a beaked cap and a uniform tunic, holding a half-empty bottle of beer in one hand, stood in front of the bulletin board and held forth, waving the bottle in the air for effect. His sleeves were stained and greasy, and there was a piece of skin missing on his nose, exposing the pale flesh beneath. Two fountain pens were clipped in his breast pocket; Jinju assumed he was some kind of party official. He took a swig of beer, waved the bottle once or twice to watch the foam rise, and began to speak. His tongue was thick in his mouth, and his lower lip seemed not to move at all.

“The nine editorials—refuting the Open Letter of the revisionist Soviet Central Committee of the Communist Party… Khrushchev said, ‘Stalin, you are my second father.’ In Chinese it would be, ‘Stalin, you are my true father’—in Paradise dialect it would be, ‘Stalin, you are my big fellow.’ “ Another swig of beer, then he knelt down like Khrushchev the supplicant before Stalin. “But,” he continued, “the heirs of perfidious people are more unbridled than their predecessors. When Khrushchev assumed power, he burned Stalin. Comrades, historical experience demands our attention “ Another swig of beer. “Comrade leaders at all levels, you must give it your full attention. Do not, I repeat, do
not
be negligent. Wa—” Beer foam oozed from his mouth, which he wiped with his sleeve. “The nine editorials—refuting the open letter of the Soviet Central Committee

Mesmerized by the man, Jinju listened to him rant and rave about things she had never heard of before. The quake in his voice and the way he twisted his tongue around the name “Stalin” appealed to her the most.

Gao Ma squeezed her arm and said softly, “We’ve got trouble, Jinju. Here comes Deputy Yang.”

She turned to look and felt as if her body had turned to ice. Deputy Yang, her lame Elder Brother, and her bull-like Second Brother stood in the waiting-room entrance.

Grabbing Gao Ma’s hand in panic, she stood up.

The middle-aged official took a swig of beer, waved his arm in the air, and shouted, “Stalin …”

The long-bed Jeep bumped and jolted along the edge of the jute field, until Deputy Yang tapped the driver on the shoulder and said, “Stop here, lad.”

The driver slammed on the brakes; the Jeep screeched to a halt.

Deputy Yang jumped down and said, “Want to stretch your legs, Number One?”

Opening his door, Elder Brother jumped down, stumbled briefly, then stood and stretched.

Second Brother nudged Jinju. “Get out,” he told her. Gao Ma was sitting on the other side of Jinju. “Get out!” Elder Brother shouted.

Gao Ma jumped down in a crouch; Second Brother nudged Jinju out of the Jeep.

The sun was directly over the chili-pepper crop that lay on the Pale Horse County side of the road, a virtual sea of blood-red. On the Paradise County side, fields of jute, broad and deep, seemed to go on forever; birds noiselessly skimming the tips of the plants made Jinju feel uncommonly at peace, as if she had already dimly envisioned today’s events. Now everything had fallen into place.

Her hands were bound behind her with hempen cords; her brothers had relented slighdy by tying them at the wrists. With Gao Ma it was a different matter, for he had been hogtied so the ropes would dig deeply into his shoulders and force his neck out unnaturally. It broke her heart to see him like that.

Deputy Yang took a couple of steps into the jute field and relieved himself with casual immodesty. When he had finished, he turned his head and said, “Number One, Number Two, you Fangs are worthless trash!”

Elder Brother gaped at Deputy Yang with his mouth hanging slack.

“Anyone who lets his little sister get tricked into running off with some man is a dumb bastard. If it had been me … hmph!” He glared menacingly at Gao Ma.

Without waiting for Deputy Yang to say another word, Number Two charged Gao Ma and drove his fist straight into his nose.

With a loud protest, Gao Ma took three or four rocky steps backwards, trying to keep his balance. His shoulders lurched as if he were trying to touch his face: knocked senseless by the punch, he had apparently forgotten that his arms were bound.

“Number Two … don’t hit him … hit me,” Jinju pleaded as she shielded Gao Ma’s body with her own.

With one kick, he sent her flying into the jute field. She took some plants with her as she tumbled head over heels. The rope around her wrists loosened as she rolled, so she immediately wrapped her arms around her knees; the sharp pain in her leg indicated a broken bone.

“Dont expect any mercy from us,” Number Two shrieked, “you shameless, stinking slut!”

Trickles of blood oozed from Gao Ma’s ashen nose. It flowed and flowed, black at first, then bright red. “You—against the law—to hit people,” he stammered, his cheeks twitching, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

“You tricked her into running away with you, and
that’s
against the law,” Deputy Yang said. “Not only did you steal a man’s future wife, but you destroyed the marriage prospects for three couples. They ought to put you away for twenty years.”

“I did nothing illegal,” Gao Ma defended himself, snapping his head to the side to launch the blood from his nose. “Jinju never registered as Liu Shengli’s wife, so she’s not legally married to anybody. You tried to coerce her into marrying Liu Shengli in violation of the Marriage Law. If anybody should be put away, it’s you people!”

Deputy Yang curled his lip and said to the Fang brothers, “That’s some sharp tongue he’s got.”

Second Brother drove his fist
into
Gao Ma’s gut.
Oof!
Gao Ma grunted as he doubled over, stumbled forward a couple of steps, and crumpled to the ground.

The brothers wasted no time. Second Brother began kicking Gao Ma in the ribs and back, and since he practiced martial arts nightly on the threshing floor, every kick sent his victim rolling and screaming for dear life. Elder Brother tried to get in a few kicks of his own, but his gimp leg would barely support his weight, and by the time his good leg was cocked and ready to go, Second Brother had already sent Gao Ma rolling out of the way. Eventually he landed a lack on target, but with hardly any steam behind it; worse, he fell down, and lay on the ground for the longest time before climbing to his feet.

“Stop hitting him! I
begged
him to take me away!” Jinju pleaded as she struggled to her feet by grasping a jute stalk. But when her weight settled on the injured leg, searing pains shot up to her brain, and she fell again, dry shrieks emerging from her throat. She was finally reduced to crawling from one jute plant to the next.

Meanwhile, Gao Ma was rolling in the dirt, his face streaked with blood and mud. Second Brother kept kicking him mercilessly, as if he were a sandbag, and each kick was met with shouts of “Kick him again!” from Elder Brother, who leapt in the air as if he were on a trampoline. “Harder! Kill the jackass bastard!” Elder Brother’s face was twisted; tears clouded his eyes.

After crawling to the roadside, Jinju propped herself up and took a couple of halting steps forward, only to be met with a flying drop kick in the belly, delivered by Second Brother. She groaned as she hit the ground and rolled back into the field.

Gao Ma, now bereft of the power of speech, was still able to roll, which was just fine with the sweaty Second Brother, whose kicks kept thudding into him.

“You’ve killing him!” Jinju had crawled back to the road.

Deputy Yang ran up, placed himself between Second Brother and Gao Ma, and said, Okay, Number Two, that’s enough!”

Gao Ma had rolled to the edge of the road, and he burrowed his face in the mud of the pepper field, his bound arms twitching above purple fingers that looked like toadstools. A worried Deputy Yang walked up, rolled him onto his back, and stuck a finger under his nose to see if he was still breathing.

They’ve killed Gao Ma! Jinju saw thousands of golden spots, which changed color to form a lovely green string arching in the air above her. She reached out, but couldn’t catch them. Sometimes she thought she had one, but when she opened her hand it flew off. A sickening sweet taste floated up from deep in her throat, and when she opened her mouth a red clump emerged and landed on a withered branch in front of her. I’m coughing up blood! At first she was scared. I’m coughing up blood! Then she felt blessed: her fears, her worries, her troubles, all evaporated like dissipating vapor, leaving a single honeyed sorrow encircling her heart.

“You’re a fucking avenger!” Deputy Yang cursed Second Brother. “You were supposed to teach him a lesson, not kill him.”

“You called me and my brother worthless trash.”

“Because you don’t know how to watch over your own sister. I didn’t mean you could kill him.”

“Is he really dead? Is he?” Elder Brother asked in a panicky voice. “Deputy Yang … it wasn’t me who kicked him.”

“Just what are you saying?” Second Brother asked his brother, glaring through bloodshot eyes. “The whole idea was to get you married.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what
did
you mean?”

“Cut out the squabbling,” Deputy Yang cut in, “and move him onto the roadway.”

The brothers went into the pepper field, picked Gao Ma up by the head and feet, and carried him out to the roadway. They no sooner had him laid out than Elder Brother plopped down on the ground, panting breathlessly.

“Hurry up and untie him,” Deputy Yang ordered.

The brothers exchanged glances, neither saying a word, though they seemed disposed to. Second Brother rolled Gao Ma over, facedown, while Elder Brother hobbled over and tried to loosen the knot. Through the encircling green spots, Elder Brother’s large hands, with their gnarled, bony fingers, looked to Jinju like ribbed fans. He was too shaky to untie the knot. “Use your teeth!” Deputy Yang screamed at Elder Brother, who looked up with a pathetic expression on his face before kneeling next to Gao Ma and trying to loosen the stubborn knot with his teeth, like a scrawny mongrel gnawing on a bone. When he finally managed to work the knot free, Deputy Yang pushed him out of the way and jerked up on the rope, as if trying to rip a tendon out of Gao Ma’s body. Once the rope was removed, he rolled Gao Ma onto his back and again stuck a finger under his nose.

Jinju’s heart began to shrink, and she shuddered as a breath of cold air rose inside. They’ve killed him—and all because of me! Elder Brother Gao Ma… my dear Elder Brother Gao Ma… Jinju’s shrinking heart relaxed again and, amid her immersion in the blessing of honeyed sorrow, more sickening sweet stuff rose slowly in her throat. Jute branches and leaves rustled crisply; the sunlight was blinding bright; tens of thousands of warm red sparks danced wildly in Pale Horse County’s pepper fields; and a chestnut colt bounded out of the field, flicking its tail friskily as it raced among sparks that glinted off its metal shoes like shiny precious gems. Bells around its neck played a crisp, melodic tune.

The swarthy skin on Gao Ma’s swollen, puffy face shone under all that blood and mud. He lay on the ground, legs straight, arms lying stiffly at his sides. Deputy Yang laid his ear against Gao Ma’s chest. Jinju heard Gao Ma’s powerful, heavy heartbeat, which matched the rhythm of the colt’s hoof beats: the hoofbeats were the pounding of a small drum, the heartbeats the thumping of a big one.

Please don’t die, Elder Brother Gao Ma. Don’t leave me here alone, Jinju moaned as she watched the chestnut colt race up to the road, then lope back and forth along the edge of the pepper field, the sparks flying from its metal shoes making it appear to be prancing on water. The crisp tinkling of the bells around its neck was long and drawn-out. At the edge of the pepper field it slowed to a more hesitant gait and turned its blue eyes toward the calmly smiling face of Gao Ma.

“You boys are lucky,” Deputy Yang said as he stood up. “He’s still alive. If he had died, you d be rotting in jail for a long time—and I mean both of you!”