Can Xue - Vertical Motion

I had a brainstorm and steeled myself to ask:

“Then, Uncle Lou, was it for the same reason that you distanced yourself from everyone back then?”

Uncle Lou snorted a noncommittal “Huh.” Just then, his nephew reappeared at the door; still smiling, he revealed a mouthful of white teeth. I wanted to go over and greet him, but he ran off again. I told Uncle Lou about being unable to touch my face when I got up in the morning. Listening gravely, Uncle Lou kept nodding his head. I don’t know why, but — all of a sudden — in this midair where I couldn’t see the surrounding scenery, I couldn’t get a grip on my narration. Was I telling him about a real incident or was I making up a story? But it couldn’t be just an illusion that this morning, dragging my lame legs, I had climbed up to the home of this Uncle Lou whom I hadn’t seen for more than ten years. I had come here specifically to tell him about this: Shouldn’t it be absolutely true? Hadn’t I transferred buses twice on the way over here? After Uncle Lou heard my story, he shifted his gaze to the air and said blandly:

“You need to exercise.”

“How?” I asked nervously.

“Put the mirror under your pillow, and take it out every morning and look in it. You’ll grow accustomed to this, and then you’ll be all right.”

“But I don’t want to look in the mirror. You have no idea: it’s a terrible feeling.”

“Then don’t look.”

I hadn’t expected Uncle Lou to answer me so irresponsibly. In the past, he’d been a considerate old man. Whenever any of us encountered anything frustrating, we all liked to complain about it to Uncle Lou. Not only did he listen attentively, but he also gave us advice.

After we’d finished the meal and the tea, I stood up, intending to take my leave, but Uncle Lou urged me to sit down and said:

“It’s going to rain hard. If you leave now, you’ll get thoroughly drenched.”

Pointing out the window, I said, “It’s a nice day.” But Uncle Lou still shook his head and said that if I left now, the next morning I’d be even unhappier, because I still hadn’t straightened out my thinking. That was true. I had failed to gain strength from Uncle Lou to relieve my inner crisis. What should I do?

Just then, Uncle Lou asked me if I’d like to sit on the windowsill and look at the scenery with him. He added that he enjoyed this more than anything else in life. With that, he sat on the windowsill. He exerted himself to maneuver one side of his body so it was hanging in midair, and he made swimming motions. Seeing this was terrifying, and I didn’t dare go up to the windowsill: it was too dangerous. This was also the first time in my life that I had come to such a high place, and the glare from the rays outside the window was intense. As I stood there hesitating, the nephew came in quietly and whispered to me, “I’d really like to push my uncle down. But I’m not strong enough. I. I’m a good-for-nothing!” He sat on the floor, and held his head in his hands in agony. This nephew was probably about my age, but his hair had turned gray. He smelled of standing grain, giving me a favorable impression of him. But I couldn’t get any handle on this screwball’s mood. He actually wanted to push his uncle down from the twenty-fourth floor! Perhaps this idea had been gnawing at him all along. The nephew gave a loud sigh. His uncle made a hey, hey sound, as if he would fly out from the window. Uncle Lou seemed overjoyed!

After a while, I heard the gentle sound of rain in the air and smelled its scent, but I couldn’t see any rain. I reached my hand out the window, but no rain fell on my hand. The nephew was also taking in the scent of rain, and he was now in a better mood. He stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes. As he walked to the door, he said:

“I’ve been really happy today!”

After he left, Uncle Lou came down from the windowsill. The old man appeared energetic and invigorated. The sound of rain still came from outside, not the sound of rain falling on the rooftop but the sound of rain in the air: you had to listen quietly in order to hear it. It was like the sound of moths’ wings flapping. I saw that half of Uncle Lou’s body was drenched. He was changing out of his wet clothing and rubbing his hair with a towel. Because I didn’t believe this, I stretched my hand out the window again, but I still felt no rain.

“If you go downstairs now, you’ll get soaked through!” Uncle Lou said.

“What about your nephew? Isn’t he afraid of being caught in the rain?”

“He looks forward to it. He came to the city from the countryside two years ago and lives in a basement room. You also noticed this: he’s very happy. If he weren’t ugly, he’d be running wild.”

“But I don’t think he’s ugly.”

“That’s because you didn’t get a good look at him.”

Although I couldn’t see the rain, I could feel that the room had cooled off. Uncle Lou asked me to “go for a walk” with him on the stairs. He said that when we were finished walking, the rain would have stopped.

This time, the stairs were steady and solid under my feet. The illusion of hanging in the air had disappeared. But apparently afraid that I would fall, Uncle Lou kept a tight grip on my arm. He said that he frequently slipped on the stairs because this kind of staircase was treacherous. When Uncle Lou walked downstairs, he was in high spirits. He started talking to me about events of more than ten years ago. I was excited, too, and wanted to talk with him about the past. All of a sudden, I realized that I didn’t know anything he was talking about. For example, he said there was a zoo outside the entrance to our home, and the panthers had escaped from the zoo and wandered back and forth on the street. He said he had gone fishing one day and had caught a human head: it was a murder case. He said a circus had come to town. The performers were all spies whose mission was to steal the state’s top secrets. He said that one day when I went fishing, I’d forgotten to lock the door. As a result, a thief had stolen a priceless treasure — a rock ink-stone that had been passed down from antiquity. As he talked on and on, I had no idea how long we walked. The stairs descended endlessly. Where were we going? Had we already walked out of the “Village in the Big City” and reached the underground? I didn’t ask Uncle Lou, for I was afraid of interrupting his stories. These were the stories I liked best. When Uncle Lou and I walked down another floor, I noticed an open door. I saw the family members celebrating some kind of ritual around a circular table. I didn’t have time to get a good look before leaving. Later, I saw the same thing in another home, and then in a third home, and a fourth. Uncle Lou said the people in this building were all noble-minded people. If I came here often, I would realize this.

“Hedgehog, as soon as you arrived, I started feeling remorseful. During these years I think I let you drift around by yourself. You must have been so lonely. Hedgehog, you won’t blame me, will you? I did this for your own good.”

I told Uncle Lou that I didn’t blame him at all. Even though we hadn’t seen each other for so long, I had always considered him someone I could rely on. That I had now sought him out proved this. Except for Uncle Lou, I had no other true family in this world. As he listened, Uncle Lou alternately nodded and shook his head. I didn’t know if he agreed with me or not. Suddenly, he shoved me aside with one hand and said:

“You wretch: you still haven’t altered your basic parasitic nature! Do you want to depend on me forever? Listen, the rain has stopped. You should go home. As for me, I’m going to stop here and visit for a while.”

With that, he left me and went to the home on the right. I heard him bolt the door from within.