Страница 49 из 78
Let her go and walk it off. She's just tired. She walked over abruptly and stood in his way, Her face suffused with the i
Ma-she's still got a fever. She's talking nonsense. Now that he'd found an excuse, he was as excited as a drowning man reaching out to grasp a straw, someone who'd found the hope to go on living.
Take it easy. Nothing will happen. Her voice was thi
Ma. He felt like crying, but he didn't, though his eyes were burning.
An ancient ugly dying forest way off in the corner of the dark-green sky. Decrepit forked branches, so rusted they looked as if they'd never borne flowers or brought forth tender new buds-ancient trees forced to bear the stigma of not having seen the color of green in thousands of years. Flocks of birds perching densely on the shaky forked branches were exchanging curses that birds have known since antiquity. Pair after pair of bulging eyes looked down on Mimi's life and her lives to come. Mimi was frightened out of her wits. She wouldn't choose this decaying den of spies as the place to end her life. She emerged from the forest and lay down on a desolate slope covered with years of loneliness. The grass around her was restless; the desolate slope lifted her up until she was floating in the air. Snakes and scorpions, bugs and ants lazily raised their heads, eyes heavy with sleep. Mimi was so tired she couldn't keep her eyes open. An icy softness kept brushing past her hands. There was a tautness in her belly, a weightiness, painful cramps. She undid her underwear and held her bulging belly with both hands, letting the first flakes of snow moisten the tiny new life. A momentary throbbing reminded her that the child would be born under the sign of the serpent. Why is there so much movement during a period of hibernation? A smile spread across Mimi's face as tranquillity settled upon her once again.
It's snowing hard now, and Mimi still isn't home. I'll find her and bring her back to talk some sense into her. His reproach was filled with anxiety.
I won't allow you to talk sense into her. Let her calm down first. Who knows, maybe she went to her mother's home. Mother held his arm. Her withered, yellowing body blocked the huge cedar doors.
Ma, let me bring her back and give her a good talking to. He tried to wrench his arm free from Her grip, but She held on for dear life.
I won't allow you to frighten her! She shouted anxiously.
Ma. He pushed Her hand away and burst through the door.
Stop right there! She ran out after him, stumbled, nearly fell. He had no choice but to rush back and steady Her. Her mouth was open wide; She was gasping. She couldn't speak.
Ma-
I won't allow you to be rough with Mimi. It's cold out there. I'll go with you to find her. Suddenly calm again, She looked at him tenderly. He lowered his head to avoid Her eyes. His voice was so low he seemed to be talking to himself. She's still got a fever.
Mimi raised her leg-it was stiff from the cold. She didn't have the heart to stamp a footprint onto the translucent surface, though maybe that was the way for her to experience the pleasure of destroying purity. White sky. White snow. White night. Tender snowflakes translucent in the boundless translucence. Not a breath of wind. The flakes seemed to be floating in their prescribed spots a scene of chaos, nihilism. This was Mimi's cherished hope-heaven and earth a single color. As she stood in the snow, she could no longer see herself. Fossilized bones glistened so brightly they dazzled her eyes; her terrified, trembling heart had petrified, had been transformed into a heart-shaped green agate tossed onto the boundless snow all by itself. Don't open the door, people; give the world a chance to hold on to this pale, powerless purity! Hide under the snowbound roof to cry alone over your own death. Look, the sky is responding to human misery by sending down its symbol of filial piety-snow that covers the ground. In the snow-covered wilderness, only the emerald-green agate awaits rebirth-maybe the tragedy of these two legs will be replayed somewhere else in the universe. Mimi was overcome by sorrow, but she was at peace. Inadvertently, she discovered a long piece of light-purple silk rolling back and forth across the earth's crust with a soft tearing sound, leaving behind an eternal silence. Mimi had no sense of her own being, not even as a tiny snowflake. As she slumped slowly to the snow-covered ground, she saw the bright, snowy red of the ancient grove with its rusted trees. Flowers in full bloom were like huge tongues stretching up into the vault of heaven, sucking dry all the blood vessels, turning the anemic heaven and earth paler than ever. The delicate and beautiful ancient forest trembled in the dazzling snow, sending skyward a cloud of red mist…
He picked Mimi up, his face as dark as the earth. He gazed in stupefaction at Mother's silvery new teeth. A confused look on his face, the twin expressions of laughter and crying.
Translated by Howard Goldblatt
Cao Naiqian – When I Think of You Late at Night, There's Nothing I Can Do: Five Tales of the WenClanCave Dwellers
In-Law
The early-morning stillness is broken by the braying of a donkey.
Blackie says, "That fucking in-law has come for you." The woman says, "Stall him while I put on my pants." "Shit," Blackie says, "what difference does it make?" The woman blushes. "Just say I'm sick and I can't go. It's that time of the month anyway."
"I can't do that," Blackie says. "Chinese don't go back on their word."
Blackie walks outside to greet his in-law, who is tethering his donkey at the gate. Blackie turns and shouts into the cave, "Go fetch a chicken. I'll get some liquor from the commune."
"In-Law," Blackie's counterpart says, "I brought a bottle since we always drink yours."
"When did we start worrying about yours and mine, anyway?" Blackie's woman walks into the yard and, without a glance at either man, heads for the chicken coop.
"No need, no need for that. A cow fell and died last night at our village," the in-law says to Blackie's woman. "I borrowed this donkey from the brigade leader, and the son of a bitch was cooking a pot of beef." He takes a leather bag from around the donkey's neck "Here, take it. You might need to cook it a bit longer."
Head lowered, Blackie's woman takes the bag and goes into the cave without a glance at either man.
While they are drinking, Blackie says, "It's that time of the month. Day before yesterday. Want to wait till it's past?"
"Fine with me."
"On the other hand, the brigade leader might deduct work points for keeping his donkey. You can take her now. Just wait till she's finished before she does it."
"Fine with me."
"Bring her back next month. I can't borrow a donkey."
"Fine with me."
After they finish drinking, Blackie says to his woman, "Put on those clean clothes. I don't want people in the other village laughing at me."
"No need. The commune's on the way. I'll buy her a jacket and trousers there."
Blackie sees his woman and in-law on their way, across one ravine after another and over a series of ridges.
"Go on back," the in-law says. "Here's the mountain."
Blackie says, "You go on up the mountain. I'll head back." He hesitates, then turns back. The in-law smacks the donkey's rump with his large fist; the animal starts clip-clopping down the road.
Shit. Go on, go ahead. A thousand yuan less would be the same as handing me his own daughter. Shit. Go on, go ahead. It's only one month a year. And Chinese don't go back on their word. These are his thoughts as he walks.
Blackie takes another look behind him and sees his woman's turniplike feet dangling alongside the donkey's haunches, swinging back and forth.