The Garlic Ballads

1.

The police van had traveled so far down the road that the dust had already settled on asphalt that was a blinding ribbon of reflected light. A squashed toad that had been there since who knows when was now no more than a dried-out flattened skin, like a decal. Jinju struggled to her feet and stumbled up to the side of the road; sweat-soaked, her knees knocking, her mind a blank, she sat down in a clump of grass, seemingly more dead than alive.

The road cut through a vast cropland, with waist-high corn and sorghum nearby and waves of golden millet in the distance. The black soil looked like a patchwork quilt in the fields, which had been prepared for a seeding of soybeans or corn. The dry air and blazing sun made the soil crack and sizzle. Everything the sun touched turned golden yellow, particularly the county government compound, where sunflowers were in bloom.

She sat lost in her thoughts until the sun sank in the west and clouds of mist climbed skyward; gloomy songs rose from the fields. Each summer day, as night fell, cool breezes drew songs from the throats of peasants. Thick layers of dust covered their naked bodies, which seemed to grow as the suns power faded. An ox was pulling a plow, turning the soil in a garlic field. Seen from a distance, the earth tumbled over glistening blades of the plow, rolling constandy, a shiny black wave in the wake of the plow.

Numbly, she watched the activity out in the field, and when the old man behind the plow began to sing, she wept openly.

“Sunset at West Mountain, the sky turns dark”-the old man flicked his whip, making the tip dance above the ox’s head-”Second Aunt rides her mule to Yangguan…”

He stopped after only two lines. But a few moments later, he was at it again: “Sunset at West Mountain, the sky turns dark / Second Aunt rides her mule to Yangguan…”

The same two lines, then he stopped again.

Jinju stood up, brushed the dirt off her backside with her bundle, and slowly headed home.

Father was dead, Mother had been arrested. A month earlier, he had been run over by the township party secretary’s car, while she had been thrown into a wagon by the police and taken away, and Jinju didn’t know why.

She walked onto the river embankment, but her bulging belly made it necessary to lean backwards to keep her balance on the way down. Gingerly she stepped on the slick grass and onto the sandy stretch where weeping willows grew. The spongy soil was dotted with clumps of conch grass-green with yellow tips. Leaning against a medium-sized willow, she gazed at the glossy brown-and-green bark, on which an army of red ants was marching. Not knowing what thoughts she should force into the emptiness of her mind, she gradually became aware of a swelling in her legs and the violent thrashing of her child. She sucked in a mouthful of cold air, leaned over, and held her breath as she wrapped her arms tightly around the tree.

Sweat beaded her forehead; tears oozed from the corners of her eyes. The child in her belly pounded and kicked as if he harbored a secret grievance against her. Feeling deeply wronged, she heard her unborn baby cry and fulminate, and she knew, with absolute certainty, that it was a boy, and that he was glaring up at her at that very moment.

Do you want to come out, my child? Is that what you want? She sat tentatively on the sandy soil and rubbed her hand lightly over the taut skin of her belly. It’s not time yet, my child-don’t be in such a hurry, she implored. But that infuriated the fetus, who pounded and kicked as never before, eyes wide with loathing, screeching and weeping… I’ve never seen a baby cry with its eyes open Child, please don’t be in such a hurry to come out… She scraped a piece of bark off the tree… a stream of warm liquid ran down her legs… Child, you cant come out now…

Jinju’s heartbreaking wails so startled the orioles above her that they squawked loudly and flew off to points unknown.

“Elder Brother Gao Ma… Eider Brother Gao Ma… come save me… hurry.” Her loud wails shattered the silence of the willow grove.

The child in her belly would not be mollified. Cruel and relendess, his bloodshot eyes opened wide, he screeched, “Let me out of here! Let me out, I say!”

By bracing herself against the tree and biting down hard on her lip, she was able to struggle to her feet. Every punch and kick doubled her up with pain and wrenched a tortured shout from her throat. The image of that frightful little thing floated before her eyes: skinny, dark, a high nose, big eyes, two rows of hard teeth.

Dont bite me, child… let loose… don’t bite…

Forcing herself into a crouch, she shuffled forward a few steps amid drooping willow branches whose leaves were covered with aphids that fell onto her face, neck, hair, and shoulders when she brushed against them. The warm liquid was seeping into her shoes, where it mixed with sand to form a gritty mud that made her feet slip and slide as if her shoes were filled with slime. She moved from one willow tree to the next, forcing them all to share the torment she endured. Hordes of aphids twinkled like fireflies, until the willow branches and leaves seemed coated with oil.

Child… don’t glare at me like that… don’t do that… I know you’re suffocating from oppression… not eating well, nothing good to drink… want to come out…

Jinju stumbled and fell, wrenching a painful shout from the child in her belly, who savagely bit the wall of the womb. The stabbing pain brought her to her knees. She crawled on the ground in agony, fingers digging into the sandy soil like steel claws.

Child… you bit a hole in me… bit a hole… I have to crawl like a lowly dog…

Her belly scraped the sandy ground as she moved ahead on all fours, sweat and teardrops marking her passage in the dust. She cried her heart out, all because of an unruly, trouble-making, black-hearted child who was ripping her apart. She was terrified of the spiteful little brat who squirmed like a silkworm inside her, trying to stretch the limits of the space that confined him. But the walls were springy as rubber, so he no sooner stretched it in one spot than it snapped back in another. That made him so angry he flailed and kicked and bit for all he was worth. “You bitch! You lousy bitch!” he cursed.

Child… oh, my child… spare me… your mother… I’ll get down on my knees for you…

Moved by her pleas, he stopped biting and kicking the wall of her womb. The pain eased up at once, and she let her tear-streaked, sweat-soaked face drop to the sandy soil, overcome with gratitude for her sons display of mercy.

The setting sun painted the tips of the willow trees gold. Jinju raised her dusty, gritty face and saw wisps of milky-white smoke rising above the village. Gingerly she stood up, fearful of rekindling the anger of her child.

By the time she made her way to Gao Mas door, the red sun had fallen well below the willow branches. The snapping of whips above the heads of oxen on village roads and the strains of music steeped in salty water turned the evening sky a bright red.

I think about your mother, who departed early for the Yellow Springs,

Leaving you and your sisters miserable and lonely-

A motherless child is a horse with no reins.

On your own at fourteen to sing in a brothel:

Since the dawn of time harlots have been spared hughter reserved for the poor…

Instead of selling your body you should have a memorial arch erected in your honor

To repay this debt of blood.

2.

They pushed and squeezed their way out of the jute field. The high sun had burned off the pervasive mist and cleared heaven and earth. Across the pale strip of road they saw thousands of acres of chili peppers planted by Pale Horse County farmers-a stretch of fiery red as far as the eye could see.

The moment they emerged from the field, Jinju felt as if she were standing naked in front of a crowd. Frantic with shame, she quickly retreated back into the field, followed by Gao Ma. “Keep moving,” he pressed her. “Why cower in here?”

“Elder Brother Gao Ma,” she said, “we can’t travel in broad daylight.”

“We’re in Pale Horse County now. No one knows us here,” Gao Ma said with mounting anxiety.

“I’m scared. What if we run into somebody we know?”

“We wont,” he reassured her. “And even if we did, we have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“How can you say that? Look what you’ve done to me…” She sat down and began to cry.

“All right, my little granny,” he said, exasperated. “You women are scared of wolves in front and tigers in back, changing your minds every couple of minutes.”

“I can’t walk anymore. My legs hurt.”

“No flimsy excuses now.”

“And I’m sleepy.”

First scratching his head, then shaking it, Gao Ma said, “We can’t live the rest of our lives in this jute field.”

“I don’t care, I’m not moving while the suns out.”

“Then we’ll wait till tonight.” He helped her to her feet. “But let’s move inside a little. It’s too dangerous here.”

“I…”

“I know, you can’t walk anymore.” He knelt in front of her. “I’ll carry you piggyback.” After handing her his bundle, he reached back and wrapped his arms around the back of her knees. She glided effortlessly up onto his back.

Before long he was huffing and puffing, his dark neck thrust out at a sharp angle. Beginning to take pity on him, she prodded him with her knees. “Put me down,” she said. “I can walk now.”

Without a word in reply, Gao Ma slid his hands upward until they were cupped around her buttocks, which he gentìy squeezed. A feeling as if her organs were blossoming like fresh flowers spread through her body. She moaned and lightly pummeled Gao Ma’s neck, he tripped, and they fell in a heap.

The jute plants trembled uneasily-only a few at first, but they were soon joined by the others as a wind rose, and all the sounds in the world were swallowed up by the booming yet surprisingly gende noise of jute leaves and branches scraping against one another.

3.

Early the following morning, Jinju and Gao Ma, their clothes dusty and wet with dew, walked up to the Pale Horse County long-distance bus station.

It was a tall, handsome building-on the outside, at least-whose colorfully shaded lights above the gate illuminated both the large red letters of the signboard and the pale-green plaster façade. Pushcarts that opened after dark formed two rows leading up to the gate, like a long eorridor. Sleepy-eyed vendors, male and female, stood wearily behind their carts. Jinju watched a young vendor in her twenties cover up a yawn with her hand; when she was finished, tears stood in her eyes, which looked like lethargic tadpoles in the reflected blue flames from a sizzling gas lantern.

“Sweet pears… sweet pears… want some sweet pears?” a woman called to them from behind her pushcart. “Grapes… grapes… buy these fine grapes!” a man called from behind his. Apples, autumn peaches, honeyed dates: whatever you could desire, they sold. The smell of overripe fruit hung in the air, and the ground was littered with waste paper, the rotting skins of various fruits, and human excrement.

Jinju imagined something hidden behind the vendors’ benign looks. Deep down they’re cursing or laughing at me, she thought. They know who I am, and they know the things? ve done over the past couple of days. That one over there, she can see the mud stains on my back and the crushed jute leaves on my clothes. And that old bastard over there, staring at me like I’m one of those women… Overwhelmed by a powerful sense of degradation, Jinju shrank inward until her legs froze and her lips were tightly shut. Lowering her head in abject shame, she held on to Gao Ma’s jacket. Feelings of remorse returned, and a sense that the road ahead was sealed to her. Thoughts of the future were terrifying.

Meekly she followed Gao Ma up the stairs and stood beside him on the filthy tiled floor, finally breathing a sigh of relief. The vendors, quiet now, were beginning to doze off. It was probably just my imagination, she comforted herself. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. But then a frazzled, slovenly old woman walked out of the building and, with loathing in her dark eyes, glared at Jinju, whose heart shuddered in her chest cavity. The old woman walked down the steps, sought out a secluded corner, dropped her pants, and peed on the ground.

When Gao Ma wrapped his hand around the door handle, slick from coundess thousands of greasy hands, Jinju’s heart shuddered strangely again. The door creaked as he opened it a crack, releasing a blast of hot, nauseating air into Jinju’s face that nearly sent her reeling. Still, she followed him into the station, where someone who looked like an attendant yawned grandly as she crossed the floor. Gao Ma dragged Jinju over to the person, who turned out to be a very pregnant woman with a faceful of moles.

“Comrade, when does the bus for Lanji leave?” he asked.

The attendant scratched her protruding belly and looked at Gao Ma and Jinju out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t know. Try the ticket counter.” She was nice-looking and soft-spoken. “Over there,” she added, pointing with her hand.

Gao Ma nodded and said “Thank you”-three times.

The line was short, and he was at the ticket window in no time. A moment later he had their tickets in hand. Jinju, who hadn’t let go of his jacket all the while he was buying the tickets, sneezed once.

As she stood in the doorway of the huge waiting room, Jinju was terrified by the thought that everyone was looking at her, studying her grimy clothes and mud-spattered shoes. Gao Ma led her into the waiting room, whose floor was carpeted with melon-seed husks, candy wrappers, fruit skins, gobs of phlegm, and standing water. The oppressively hot air carried the stink of farts and sweat and other nameless foul odors that nearly bowled her over; but within a few minutes she had gotten used to it.

Gao Ma led her in search of seats. Three rows of benches painted an unknowable color, running the length of the room, were filled with sleeping people and a few seated passengers squeezed in among them. Gao Ma and Jinju spotted an empty place on a bench next to a bulletin board for newspapers, but upon closer inspection they saw that it was all wet, as if a child had peed on it. She balked, but he just brushed the water off with his hand. “Sit down,” he said. “ ‘Conveniences at home, trouble on the road.’ You’ll feel better once you get off your feet.”

Gao Ma sat down first, followed by a scowling Jinju with her swollen, puffy legs. Sure enough, she soon felt much better. For now she could lean back and present a smaller target for prying eyes. When Gao Ma told her to get some sleep, since their bus wasn’t due to leave for an hour and a half, she shut her eyes, even though she wasn’t sleepy. Transported back to the field, she found herself surrounded by jute stalks on the sides and the sharp outlines of leaves and the cold gleam of the sky above. Sleep was out of the question.

Three of the four glass panes over the gray-green bulletin board were broken, and a couple of sheets of yellowed newspaper hung from shards of broken glass. A middle-aged man walked up and tore off a corner of one of them, all the while looking around furtively. A moment later, the pungent odor of burning tobacco drifted over, and Jinju realized that the newspaper was serving as the man’s roll-your-own paper. Why didn’t I think to use it to dry the bench before we sat down? she wondered, as she looked down at her shoes. The caked-on mud was dried and splitting, so she scraped it off with her finger.

Gao Ma leaned over and asked softly, “Hungry?”

She shook her head.

“I’m going to get something to eat,” he said.

“Why? We’ll have plenty of opportunities to spend our money from here on out.”

“People are iron,” he said, “and food is steel. I need to keep up my strength to find work. Save my seat.”

After he laid his bundle beside her on the bench, Jinju had the sinking feeling that he was not coming back. She knew she was just being foolish-he wouldn’t leave her there, he wasn’t that kind of man. The image of him in the field with headphones over his ears-the first real impression he had made on her-flooded her mind. It seemed at turns to be happening right now and ages ago. She opened the bundle and took out the cassette player to listen to some music. But, afraid people might laugh at her, she shoved it back in and retied the bundle.

A woman looking like a wax figurine sat on a deck chair across from Jinju: her jet-black shoulder-length hair framed an ivory complexion and matched her thin, crescent-shaped eyebrows. She had astonishingly long lashes and lips like ripe cherries, dark red and luminous. She was wearing a skirt the color of the red flag, and her breasts jutted out so pertly they made Jinju feel bashful; reminded of talk that city girls wore padded bras, she thought about her own sagging breasts. I always knew they’d grow big and ugly, and that’s exactly what happened, she thought. But city girls wait in vain for theirs to grow big and sexy. Life is full of mysteries. Her girlfriends had warned her not to let men touch her breasts, or they’d rise like leavened bread in a matter of days. They were right: that’s just what had happened.

A man-also outlandish looking, of course-had lain his permed head in the lap of the woman in red, who was running her pale, tapered fingers through his hair, combing out the springy curls. She looked up and caught Jinju staring at her, so embarrassing Jinju that she lowered her head and looked away, like a thief caught in the act.

At some point during all this, the room brightened and the loudspeakers blared an announcement for Taizhen passengers to line up at Gate 10 to have their tickets punched. The heavily accented female voice on the PA system was so jarring it set Jinju’s teeth on edge. Bench sleepers began to stir, and in no time a stream of passengers-bundles and baskets in hand, wives and children in tow-descended on Gate 10 like a swarm of bees. They formed a colorful mob, short and stubby.

The couple opposite her acted as if there were no one else around.

A pair of attendants walked up to the rows of benches and began nudging sleepers’ buttocks and thighs with broom handles. “Get up,” they insisted. “All of you get up.” Most of the targets of these nudges sat up, rubbed their eyes, and fished out cigarettes; but some merely started the process, then lay back to continue their interrupted nap as soon as the attendants had moved on.

For some reason, though, the attendants were reluctant to disturb the curly-haired man. The woman in red, still running her fingers through his hair, looked up at the bedraggled attendants and asked in a loud, assured voice, “What time does the Pingdao bus leave, miss?”

Her perfect Beijing accent established her credentials, and Jinju, as if given a glimpse of Paradise, sighed appreciatively over both her good looks and her lovely way of speaking.

The attendants responded politely, “Eight-thirty.”

In contrast to the well-spoken woman in red, the attendants were beneath Jinju’s contempt. They began sweeping the floor, from one end of the room to the other. It seemed to Jinju that every man and half the women were puffing on cigarettes and pipes, whose smoke slowly filled the room and led to a round of coughing and spitting.

Gao Ma returned with a bulging cellophane bag. “Is everything all right?” he asked when he saw the look on her face. She said it was, so he sat down, reached into the bag, and pulled out a pear. “The local restaurants were all closed, so I bought you some fruit.” He offered her the pear.

“I told you not to spend so much,” she groused.

He wiped the pear on his jacket and took a noisy bite. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “I’ve got more.”

A ragamuffin was walking up and down the rows of benches begging from anyone who was awake. Stopping in front of a young military officer, who glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, he struck a pitiful pose and said, Officer, Colonel, could you spare a little change?”

“I don’t have any money!” the moon-faced officer snapped in reply, rolling his eyes to show his displeasure.

“Anything will do,” the young beggar pleaded. “Wont you take pity on me?”

“Youre old enough to work. Why don’t you get a job?”

“Work makes me dizzy.”

The officer fished out a pack of cigarettes, opened it, removed one, and stuck it between his lips.

“If you wont give me money, Colonel, how about a smoke?”

“Do you know what land of cigarettes these are?” The officer looked him in the eye as he whipped out a shiny cigarette lighter and- click-flipped it on. Instead of touching the flame to the tip of his cigarette right away, he just let it blaze.

“Foreign, Colonel-they’re foreign cigarettes.”

“Know where they came from?”

“No.”

“My father-in-law brought them back from Hong Kong, that’s where. And look at this lighter.”

“You’re lucky to have a father-in-law like that, Colonel. I can see that life has smiled on you. Your father-in-law must be a big official, and his son-in-law will be one himself one of these days. Big officials are well-heeled and generous. So how about a smoke, Colonel?”

The young officer thought it over for a moment, then said, “No, I’d rather give you money.”

Jinju watched him fish out a shiny aluminum two-fen piece and hand it to the beggar, who wore a pained grin as he accepted the paltry gift with both hands and bowed deeply.

Now the beggar was walking this way, sizing up people as he came. Passing on Jinju and Gao Ma, he went up to the woman in red and her permed young man, who had just sat up. Jinju saw skin show through the beggar’s worn trousers when he bowed.

“Madam, sir, take pity on a man who’s down on his luck and give me some spare change.”

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” the woman in red asked sanctimoniously. “A healthy young man like you should be out working. Don’t you have any self-respect?”

“Madam, I don’t understand a word you’re saying. I’m only asking for a little change.”

“Would you bark like a dog for it?” the permed fellow asked the beggar. “I’ll give you one yuan for every bark.”

“Sure. What do you prefer, a big dog or a little one?”

The permed young man turned to the woman in red and smiled. “That’s up to you.”

The young beggar coughed and cleared his throat, then began to bark, sounding remarkably doglike: “Arf arf-arf arf arf-arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf, arf, arf, arf arf, arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf! That was a little dog. Twenty-six barks. Ruff! Ruff ruff! Ruff ruff! Ruff ruff ruff! Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff! Ruff ruff ruff! Ruff ruff!! Ruff!!! That was a big dog, twenty-four barks. Big and little together comes to fifty barks, at one yuan apiece, for a total of fifty yuan, sir, madam,”

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…”

4.

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!”

“What now, Eighth Uncle?” Elder Brother asked helplessly.

“Now it’s my turn to suffer over this business of yours,” Deputy Yang grumbled, taking a small opaque vial from his pocket and waving it under the brothers’ eyes. “This is Yunnan medicinal powder. We’ll give it to our young friend here.” He knelt down, removed the stopper from the vial, and dumped a bright red pellet into his palm. Pausing briefly for effect, he said, “Open his mouth.”

Again the brothers exchanged glances. Second Brother signaled Elder Brother to stick his dark fingers into Gao Ma’s mouth and pry it open. Holding the pellet between his fingers, Deputy Yang paused dramatically once more before reluctantly inserting it between Gao Ma’s lips.

“Little Guo,” Deputy Yang shouted to his driver, “bring the canteen.”

The driver climbed lazily out of the Jeep and walked up holding an army canteen whose yellow surface was peeling. A semicircular rut etched in his cheek showed that he had been sleeping facedown on the steering wheel.

Deputy Yang poured some water into Gao Ma’s mouth. It reeked of alcohol.

Then the four men stood over Gao Ma like dark pillars, all eight eyes glued to his face. The chestnut colt ran like the wind, hooves thudding loudly, sparks from its shoes crackling in the air; the circle it described was large enough to embrace Jinju, and as it passed through the field, stalks and branches bent before it like softly yielding willow twigs. Green spots careened off its glossy hide. Little colt… little colt… she wanted to wrap her arms around its satiny neck.

Gao Ma’s hand twitched.

“Good,” Deputy Yang exclaimed. “Excellent. That Yunnan medicinal powder deserves its reputation. Damned good stuff.”

Gao Ma’s eyes opened a crack. Deputy Yang bent down and said in a genial tone, “You’re lucky to be alive, my boy. If not for my Yunnan medicinal powder, you’d be off meeting with Karl Marx right about now.”

Gao Ma lay with a peaceful, happy smile on his face. He managed a barely perceptible nod to Deputy Yang.

“Now what, Eighth Uncle?” Elder Brother asked.

A rumble emerged from Gao Ma’s chest as he pulled his arms back and rested on his elbows, slowly raising his head and body until he was in a sitting position. Frothy, blood-streaked threads oozed from the corners of his mouth. Elder Brother Gao Ma… dear Elder Brother Gao Ma… the chestnut colt is touching your face with its downy muzzle… it’s weeping. Gao Ma’s head fell back. Slowly he raised it again. The chestnut colt is licking Elder Brother Gao Ma’s face with its golden tongue.

“He can take a beating,” Deputy Yang said as he looked down at the now squatting Gao Ma. “Do you know why this happened?” he asked with a ring of genuine appreciation.

Gao Ma smiled and nodded. He’s looking at me. There’s a smile on Elder Brother Gao Ma’s face. The chestnut colt is licking the traces of blood from his face.

“Are you going to try to trick our sister in going off with you again?” asked Elder Brother, limping in place.

Gao Ma smiled and nodded.

Second Brother cocked his leg to kick Gao Ma again.

“Number Two!” Deputy Yang shouted. “You stupid bastard!”

Elder Brother picked up Gao Ma’s bundle and loosened the knot with his teeth, spilling the contents, including the envelope, onto the ground. He got down on his knees and held the envelope down.

“Number One, don’t do it.”

After wetting his finger in his mouth, Elder Brother began counting the bank notes.

“Number One, you shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Eighth Uncle, he corrupted our sister and used up your costly medicine. For that he must pay.”

Elder Brother then dug through Gao Ma’s pockets with his damp hand, fishing out some crumpled ten-fen notes and four shiny aluminum one-fen coins. The chestnut colt reared its head and knocked the coins from his hand. Elder Brother scurried after them, tears filling his eyes.