Can Xue - Vertical Motion

“We have to celebrate!” Mrs. Yun said decisively.

“Oh, good point!”

The pancakes smelled delicious!

Wumei came home, and the three of them sat around the table eating pancakes. Mr. Yun was in a great mood; he even drank a glass of wine. Wumei had some wine, too, and her face glowed red. Looking at Mrs. Yun, she widened her eyes and said: “Are you going to leave us, Mama?”

“What?” Mrs. Yun thought she’d heard wrong. “What did you say?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Wumei lowered her head and whimpered.

“She’s had too much to drink,” Mr. Yun said. “Why don’t you have a little, too?”

And so Mrs. Yun also took a glass of wine.

Mrs. Yun seldom drank; when she left, she was a little dizzy. Carrying a bamboo basket, she went out to pick beans. She had just reached the turn when she was ambushed. She was aware of a lot of whips lashing her body. Since she couldn’t avoid them, all she could do was roll around on the ground. She wondered if she would die. The bird was on top of her. How had it grown so many whips? Some struck her ruthlessly, as if hacking her body into two halves. She heard her tragic wail spread in the distance. After a while, she fainted; before she plummeted into darkness, she saw a terribly bright fireball.

When she sat up, she was in so much pain that it was like being pricked by needles. She moaned. From behind, someone pulled her up by her armpits. She screamed in pain, but she was steady on her feet. Ah, this was a middle-aged man, a stranger. When she looked at him again, though, she thought she’d seen him before. She remembered: when she was young, there was a handsome young man who had repaired cart tires at the roadside for a living. This one looked much like him, but was much stronger.

Mrs. Yun was a little excited.

“Are you Youlin?” she asked. Her voice quivered from pain.

“Yes. And you’re Xiumei.” As he spoke, his eyes roved. “That evil bird wants to destroy you.”

“How did you happen to come here?”

“Why not? I often do. It isn’t far.”

“Not far from where?” Mrs. Yun looked at him in astonishment.

“My home. It’s nearby.”

“Your home?”

“Yes. Over there.” He was pointing toward the wasteland behind him.

It finally occurred to Mrs. Yun that she’d been leaning against Youlin all along. Was he really that Youlin? Why didn’t she feel at all shy? He supported her weight as she walked, and after she took a few mechanical steps, her pain subsided. Walking west, they crossed the wasteland and came to a vast swale. Mrs. Yun whispered to herself: Did he actually live in the marsh?

“Do you have a job, Youlin?”

“The same as before — fixing tires. That’s all I can do.”

“How can there be anyone in this wasteland who needs tires repaired?”

“There are always one or two. You haven’t noticed them. When it’s nearly sunset, they come over from the marsh.”

“The marsh?! No one can walk in it.”

“They’re light. They can walk over from above.”

At first, Mrs. Yun had been a little excited by leaning against a man she had dreamed of in her youth. Now, all of a sudden, it was as though she’d been splashed with cold water. She wanted to break loose from him, but when she tried, she was pressed even closer to him. Slowly, she began to desire him, but this feeling also frightened her. Her arms lengthened and tightly entwined him.

“Then, can you also walk over from above?” Her voice was trembling.

“Ah. Yes.”

They could see the marsh and an apple tree there. Youlin’s tools hung from a fork in the tree, and the chrome-plated wrench flashed with light. Looking at this scene, Mrs. Yun felt glum. But this didn’t hold her longing within limits.

They sat down to rest under the apple tree. Birds were squabbling fearfully in the marsh. Mrs. Yun noticed a tiny grave with a tombstone on it. Mrs. Yun asked Youlin whose it was and how a tomb could be built in a marsh. Youlin was thinking back on something. After a while, he finally answered, “Him.”

Mrs. Yun was no longer in pain, but she was growing feverish. She heard Youlin say, “Let’s take off our clothes.” It seemed to be someone else speaking. After hesitating a moment, she began undressing. So did Youlin. Holding each other, they walked toward the marsh. Strictly speaking, Youlin dragged Mrs. Yun over there.

The sun was shining, and the water was warm. Sex in the marsh wasn’t like real sex. There was only extreme longing, but she felt no great pleasure. At first, Mrs. Yun thought she would sink, but the damp earth beneath her was buoyant. Their bodies were half-buried in it, but they didn’t sink down. She embraced him tightly. She felt he was confident in his knowledge of the earth here.

When they went back to the apple tree, some leeches were sticking to their bodies. Mrs. Yun abhorred them, beat them hard, and got rid of two of them. She dressed. Five were sticking to Youlin, but he didn’t care. Nor did he get dressed. He sat on a rock, casting his eyes at the marsh in the distance. Mrs. Yun thought he had forgotten her. Anyhow, what were they to each other? Mrs. Yun couldn’t think it through at this moment. When she looked up, she saw a lot of black rings on the apple tree, one ring within another — much like Wumei’s papercuts. She thought of asking this man what was hanging on the tree, but when she saw his expression, she abandoned the idea.

“I have to go home. I’m a little afraid of that bird.”

“Then I’ll walk you home.”

Youlin got dressed and walked behind her in silence. Mrs. Yun walked rapidly. When she passed the mulberry opposite her front door, she didn’t see the bird. There was just a pile of bird droppings on the ground. Mrs. Yun went through the courtyard gate, and when she turned around, Youlin had disappeared.

Mr. Yun and Wumei were playing Chinese chess in the courtyard. Mrs. Yun raised her voice and said: “Who among our villagers has ever gone to the marsh?”

Mr. Yun stretched, stood up, and said: “No one. But at night, outsiders have come out from there. I’ve heard that people and carts are coming and going all the time. But I’ve never seen what actually goes on there.”

Mrs. Yun looked at her husband in disbelief and went into the kitchen without a word.

As she cooked, Mrs. Yun tried hard to remember how she had reached the marsh. It was at least twelve miles from the village. How had she been able to make the round trip in such a short time — as if she had flown? If it was always so easy, then wasn’t it as if Youlin lived at her front door? She felt she’d made a mistake and thought there might be problems later. Back then, in her hometown, she hadn’t fallen in love with Youlin. Where on earth had he come from now? Was this person really Youlin?

At night, when the moon shone into the bedroom, Mr. Yun had already been in and out of many dreams. All of a sudden, Mrs. Yun woke up and heard some movement in the next room. Without even bothering to put on her shoes, she rushed out.

“Wumei! Wumei!”

Shivering, she groped for a match on the windowsill and lit the lamp. The bed was empty. Where was Wumei? Ah, she was squatting next to the bureau. She stood up and covered half of her face with her hand.

“What happened to your face?”

“Leave me alone!”

Mrs. Yun suddenly pulled her hand away from her face. Then she retreated two steps in fright, for half of her daughter’s face had disappeared, as if it had been cut off with a knife!

“Oh! Yunshan! Yunshan!!” Mrs. Yun screamed for her husband.

“You are so ignorant.”

With that, Wumei calmly walked out.

In the lamplight, Mrs. Yun noticed black rings all over the room, some moving in the air, others attached to the walls. Several were even hanging from the beams. Mr. Yun came into the room; he seemingly didn’t care about these black rings. He stood motionless in the middle of the room.