Chronicle of a Blood Merchant

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.

Dripping wet, he clambered the last few steps out of the well and shouted through pale blue lips, “Dad, I found the bucket! Dad, I almost couldn’t hold my breath long enough! Dad, the bucket was caught under a ledge! Dad, how long was I down in the well?”

Sanle ran eagerly forward to announce the total but was quickly and dismissively waved away by Xu Sanguan, who was stroking the water from Yile’s forehead with his other hand.

“Sanle, didn’t I already tell you to get out of here?”

XU SANGUAN said things like that to “the little brat” all the time.

So did Xu Yulan.

Even Yile and Erle told him to go away sometimes.

And when they told him to go away, he really would go away, walking through the streets, salivating as he stood for what seemed like hours outside the candy shop, squatting alone by the river looking at the little fish and the little shrimps in the shallows, pasting himself against electrical poles to listen to the sound of the electricity rushing across the wires above, falling asleep in somebody else’s house with his arms wrapped around his knees. He would always walk and walk until he didn’t know where he was, then ask for directions until he found his way home.

Xu Sanguan always said to Xu Yulan, “Yile’s like me and Erle takes after you. But I have no idea who that little brat takes after.”

When Xu Sanguan said such things, what he really meant was that of the three children, he liked Yile best of all. But it was also Yile who had become someone else’s son. Sometimes Xu Sanguan would sit back in the rattan chair thinking about Yile and start to cry.

As Xu Sanguan cried, Sanle approached, and seeing his father cry, he too burst into tears without knowing why. His father’s sadness was catching, like a yawn.

When Xu Sanguan discovered that someone was crying even more brokenheartedly than himself, he turned his head to discover “the little brat” standing by his side. He would dismiss him with a wave of his hand. “Sanle, go away.”

Sanle could only turn and leave. By this time Sanle was already seven years old. He carried a little slingshot in one hand, and his pockets were stuffed full of little stones. He would pace back and forth, and when he caught sight of a magpie moving along the eaves of a house or stirring among some tree branches, he would aim the slingshot and fire. Even if he didn’t succeed in actually hitting the bird, he could usually send it packing, twittering as it flew into the distance. Then he would shout, “Come back, you! Come back!”

Sanle’s slingshot was often aimed at street lamps, at cats, chickens, and ducks. He would aim for clothes hanging from bamboo poles to dry, at bundles of dried fish hanging from the eaves of houses, at bottles, baskets, and vegetables floating in the river. One time he even hit another boy on the head with a rock.

The boy was about the same age as Sanle himself. He was walking down the street when the rock hit his head. At first his body rocked back and forth with the unexpectedness of the blow. Then he reached out his hand to rub the spot that had been hit. Finally, he burst into tears. Still crying, he turned to see Sanle holding the slingshot and grinning in his direction. He walked over toward Sanle and extended one arm to slap him. Rather than landing on Sanle’s face, the slap somehow landed on the back of his head. Sanle, in turn, reached out and slapped the other boy. Then they traded blows, the sound of their slaps ringing out like an ovation. But the sound of their crying was even louder, because by now Sanle too was sobbing with anger and pain.

The other boy said, “I’m gonna go get my brother. I have two big brothers. My brothers will beat you up.”

Sanle said, “So what? I have two big brothers too. My brothers’ll beat up your brothers.”

The two children stopped slapping each other and negotiated. They agreed that they would each fetch their brothers and meet at the same place an hour later.

When Sanle arrived home, he saw Erle sitting drowsily inside. “Erle, I had a fight with another kid. Come out and help me.”

Erle asked, “Who was it?”

Sanle said, “I don’t know his name.”

Erle asked, “How big is he?”

Sanle said, “The same as me.”

As soon as Erle learned that the kid was only as big as his little brother, he slapped the table and shouted, “Goddamn! Trying to bully my little brother, is he? I’ll show him a thing or two.”

By the time Sanle led Erle back to the street where the slapping match had taken place, the other boy had arrived with his own brother in tow. The other boy was taller than Erle by a head.

Chills ran down Erle’s spine, and he turned and said to Sanle, “Stand behind me, and don’t say a word.”

When the other boy’s big brother saw Erle and Sanle approach, he gestured at them with a dismissive air of nonchalance. “Is that them?” Then he approached, arms swinging expectantly back and forth, glaring balefully in Erle’s direction. “Which one of you hit my brother?”

Erle spread out his hands, palms up, and smiled placatingly. “It wasn’t me.” As he spoke, he lifted his index finger over his shoulder to point at Sanle standing behind him. “It was my little brother who did it.”

“Then I’ll beat up your little brother.”

“Let’s be reasonable and talk this thing out,” Erle said to the other boy’s brother. “If we can’t work things out, then I won’t stand in your way, even if you have to hit him.”

“So what if you did stand in the way?” He shoved Erle, sending him reeling several yards back. “I want you to stand in the way. I’m dying to beat the shit out of both of you.”

“I’m definitely not going to get involved.” Erle waved his hands for emphasis. “I’m the kind of person who likes to talk things out, to be reasonable.”

“Talk all you goddamn want.” He took a step forward and punched Erle in the nose. “First I’ll beat the shit out of you, and then I’ll beat the shit out of your little brother.”

Erle began to retreat, one step at a time, asking the smaller child as he went, “Who is this guy to you? What’s his problem? Why’s he so unreasonable?”

“He’s my oldest brother,” the child replied, not without a certain elation. “And I have another big brother too.”

As soon as Erle heard this, he shouted, “Hold everything.” He pointed at the two younger children. “This is no fair. My little brother called his second oldest brother, but your little brother went and got his oldest brother. That’s not fair. If you had any guts, you’d let my little brother go get our oldest brother too. You think you have the guts to take on our big brother?”

The other boy waved his hand through the air. “I’m not scared of anyone or anything. Go get your big brother then. I’ll beat the shit out of all three of you.”

Erle and Sanle ran home to fetch Yile. Yile came but was quick to realize as he arrived on the scene that the other boy was almost half a head taller than himself. He said to Erle and Sanle, “I want to take a piss first.”

As he spoke, he turned and walked down a lane. When he emerged, his hands were held behind his back. In his hands he held a sharp triangular rock. He approached the bigger boy with his eyes fixed firmly to the ground.

“This is your big brother? Too scared to even look at me?”

Yile looked up long enough to determine just where the bigger boy’s head was located. Then he lifted the rock and brought it down on top of it. The bigger boy cried out once. Yile brought the rock down on his head three more times. The bigger boy tumbled to the ground, blood trickling onto the pavement around his head.

When Yile was sure the boy wouldn’t be able to get up again, he threw away the rock, wiped the dirt from his hands, and gestured toward his silent and frightened little brothers.

“Let’s go home.”