Can Xue - Vertical Motion

When Wumei entered the kitchen, Mrs. Yun asked her: “Did your father bring the bird in? Will we have to live with it from now on?”

“I think it came in by itself. I’m going to ignore it.”

Actually, Mrs. Yun also thought that it had come in by itself, but she couldn’t suppress the wrath she felt toward her husband. When she fed the pigs, they were also calm, as if they weren’t at all affected by their proximity to the formidable enemy. Mrs. Yun thought, Maybe there won’t be a problem, after all? Anyhow, the answer would be clear at dusk when the chickens went back to the coop. She forced herself to be a little more patient.

Father and daughter left. The courtyard was quiet. The hens were all sleeping soundly in the sunshine, now and then making nonsensical gugu sounds. Just one hen was taking a bath in the sand. It didn’t seem to be at all on guard. Mrs. Yun swept the courtyard. Only after sweeping all the corners did she sweep the henhouse. Suddenly, locking gazes with the bird, she went numb all over. She couldn’t move. She and the bird stared at each other for a long time. Finally, one of them turned away. After Mrs. Yun recovered her wits, she found her clothing drenched with perspiration.

At dusk, things took a turn for the better. The owl swaggered out of the henhouse and stood in the courtyard for a few seconds. The chickens and ducks all stopped what they were doing to watch the big bird. With a hu sound, it flew away, its huge wings raising dust and sand from the ground. Mrs. Yun hurried to the doorway at once and saw it stop on the tree again. Father and daughter were walking along the ditch near the tree. But it wasn’t just the two of them. Someone else was there, too. Because he was wearing a straw hat, she couldn’t immediately recognize him. Ah, it was Youlin! He parted from them at the tree and took the road to the market.

“You came back with our former neighbor,” Mrs. Yun said.

“He’s very smart. Right off the bat, he seized the chance to do business next to the marsh. He has it together a lot more than we do.” Mr. Yun appraised the figure that was receding in the distance.

“What kind of work does he do?” Mrs. Yun blurted out. Actually, she wanted to stop herself, but couldn’t.

“It’s hard to say what goes on in the marsh. I’ve heard only rumors.”

Father and daughter sat down calmly in the courtyard and played chess, as if there was nothing to worry about. After making tea for them, Mrs. Yun went back to the kitchen. Today’s events had left her at a loss. It seemed that a distance of about twelve miles wasn’t so far: this person could come over whenever he wanted. Maybe he lived next to the village. How could this tire repairman and the Dragon Street scene have become entangled with her? Ever since leaving that unjust place, Mrs. Yun had felt that her family had broken completely with it. Yet, not only was it not a complete break, but it was possible to have frequent contact. She had simply been unaware of this. It was such a sinister world.

“It’s so scary to repair tires for people in the marsh,” said Wumei. “What I’m most afraid of is pushing a cart on the marsh.”

“Have you seen it?” Mrs. Yun asked lightly.

“Once when I was a child. But the people in the carts were prisoners on their way to being executed. I didn’t dare look and began to cry.”

“Nonsense. When did you go to the marsh? I don’t remember that.”

Mrs. Yun thought to herself, How can this child run off at the mouth like this? She’d been such a good child. Making up stories like this: Could it be that she found Youlin revolting?

“Those prisoners all had long beards, and the tops of their heads were like stumps that had been chopped off. The cart drivers were all very ugly. One was an old ape.”

“Do you remember who took you to the marsh?”

“No. It must have been Daddy.”

After Wumei left, several black rings were visible on the spot where she’d been standing; they were like cauterized imprints. Mrs. Yun scuffed them with her foot but couldn’t get rid of them. When she took a closer look, she didn’t see them.

They were eating supper. After Mrs. Yun changed the lamp wick, the kerosene lamp brightened. Mrs. Yun noticed that the father’s and daughter’s faces flickered in the lamplight, and a dark shadow stood behind Mr. Yun for a while and then behind Wumei for a while. Mrs. Yun forgot about eating. All of a sudden, she burst out: “Youlin?” She was scared out of her wits.

“Living where Youlin lives isn’t as tough as we imagine. I suppose there are some arcane truths there. Let’s drop this subject. I’m afraid it will frighten Wumei,” Mr. Yun said.

Wumei’s shining eyes led Mrs. Yun to think of the strange bird’s eyes.

“Give me some credit, will you, Daddy?”

“Could Youlin be dead?” Mrs. Yun said.

Mr. Yun began laughing. Mrs. Yun saw the dark shadow behind him bow in his direction.

“No way. You just saw that he was all right, didn’t you? I told you: he has a great life! I’ve thought about him in the years that we’ve been apart. But it never occurred to me that he was living next to the marsh. I used to haul coal, and he fixed tires. Back then, I felt that he and I were much the same. As I see it now, we are indeed in different social classes. Think about it: So many years have gone by, how could our characters not have changed?”

Mrs. Yun was staring at her husband’s face, which had gradually become thinner. Her disbelief was growing. Mr. Yun seldom talked so much. What was wrong with him today? The dark shadow behind him seemed to be smelling his hair. Mrs. Yun wanted to stand up, but she felt nailed to her chair. Wave after wave of chills assailed her. She set her chopsticks down.

“Ma!” Wumei shouted.

“Ah?” She was a little more clear-headed.

“You have to give me some money to buy glossy paper.”

“Oh, okay! You’re so industrious.”

Wumei stood up and went back to her room. Just then, the owl began hooting. It wasn’t like the frightening hoot of an ordinary owl. It didn’t scare Mrs. Yun at all; it was merely a little strange. It was intense and resounding, and it lasted a fantastically long time. She thought, Maybe this is the birds’ mountain ballad? It was a long time before it stopped hooting.

Mrs. Yun lit another lamp and went to the courtyard gate to investigate. As usual, she was worried about her chickens and ducks, but there was no problem: it was quiet all around. Outside, the old mulberry tree bobbed its head gently in the breeze, and the owl was no longer there. Perhaps, its song had been its last outburst. What emotions did its outburst hold? Birds’ ideas were hard to fathom. Two villagers passed by the tree. They were quarreling, and suddenly they came to blows. One of them lifted the older one into the ditch. Mrs. Yun heard the one in the ditch groaning loudly. Mrs. Yun called Mr. Yun over to help the old codger.

“It seems he doesn’t want our help. Take a look for yourself. You’ll see.”

Mrs. Yun limped the whole way over there. A lot of stones and clods of earth were piled up on the path.

“Uncle Weng, do you want me to help you? Or do you want me to call someone over to help?”

She was talking to the blurry ball below, but it didn’t answer. Quite the opposite: she heard a strange sound come from his mouth — like the menacing sound made by a cat when it encounters a suspiciously dangerous adversary. Frightened, Mrs. Yun turned and went home.

“What’s wrong with Uncle Weng?”

She saw Mr. Yun snickering.

“I guess he’s enjoying life in the ditch,” Mr. Yun said.

“If I open the courtyard gate, will our chickens, ducks, and piglets be safe?”