Yu Hua - Cries in the Drizzle

When the dish arrived, I did not start eating right away, but just looked at the steaming noodles — greedily, to be sure, but also with some reserve. Wang Liqiang read my mind: he stood up, saying that he had to get back to work, and walked out. As soon as he left I laid into the noodles with gusto. But my small belly was satisfied all too soon, and then I could only dejectedly pick up pieces of chicken and fish with my chopsticks, stare at them, and drop them back in the bowl, then dredge them up again; sad to say, I just could not eat any more.

By now I had recovered my normal energy and my unhappi-ness had vanished. I noticed an old man in tattered clothes across the table from me, who was eating a small bowl of the cheapest noodles. He watched attentively as I played around with my chicken and fish, and I could sense that he was looking forward to my leaving, so that he could help himself to the tasty morsels that I couldn't finish. This brought out my mean streak: I made a point of lingering over my meal and poked at the food in my bowl time and again. The old man, for his part, seemed to be making a point of eating very slowly. A silent struggle had developed between us. Soon I grew tired of this game and an entertaining new variation occurred to me. I chucked my chopsticks to one side, stood up, and swaggered out. As soon as I was out the door, I crouched down next to the window so I could observe his next move. He glanced toward the exit, and then speedily dumped his noodles into my bowl and placed his bowl where mine had been, after which he immediately resumed eating as though nothing had happened. I abandoned my place at the window and strode cockily back into the restaurant and over to the table where I had been sitting. I stared at the empty dish with feigned astonishment and was tickled to see the look of shame that spread over his face. Then I left in the best of spirits.

Once I reached third grade, I spent more and more of the day playing outside. By this time I was more familiar and comfortable with Wang Liqiang and Li Xiuying, and the trepidation that I felt early on had waned. Often I would be having so much fun that I would lose all sense of time, until suddenly it would occur to me that I needed to be home and I would race back to the house as fast as I could. I would be scolded, of course, but it was not so severe a reproof as to really scare me, and if I applied myself to chores and made a point of working up a good sweat, the reprimands died on their lips.

For a time I was especially fond of fishing for shrimp in ponds, and with this activity in mind practically every afternoon after school Guoqing, Liu Xiaoqing, and I would run off into the country. One day we had just put the town behind us when to my alarm I saw Wang Liqiang walking slowly along a path between the fields, a young woman just behind him. I quickly turned around and started running in the other direction, but Wang Liqiang had already spotted me, and when he called out, I had to stop and watch uneasily as he came walking up with his long strides. I should have been home by this point. Guoqing and Liu Xiaoqing hurriedly explained that we were out to catch shrimp, not to steal melons. He smiled and to my surprise did not rake me over the coals, but put his big hand on my head and simply said that he and I would go home together. All the way he asked solicitously about things going on at school and showed no sign of trying to find fault with me, so I gradually relaxed.

Later, in what was for me a happy boyhood moment, we stood under the ceiling fan in the department store and ate ice pops. In those days there was no electric fan in Wang Liqiang's house, and I watched with fascination as the ceiling fan, so perfectly round, spun in a circle and glimmered like water in motion. I stood at the edge of the fan's draft and walked in and out, enjoying the contrast.

That time I ate three ice pops in a row. Wang Liqiang was seldom as generous as this. When I'd finished the third, Wang Liqiang asked me if I wanted another and I nodded. But then he hesitated and disappointed me by saying, “Better not. You might have a tummy upset.”

He compensated by buying me some candy instead. On the way home, he suddenly inquired, “Did you know that young lady?”

“Which young lady?” I didn't know who he was talking about.

“The one behind me.”

Only then did I remember the young woman on the path. I had no clear impression of when she had vanished from the scene, so intent had I been on putting distance between Wang Liqiang and me. I shook my head, and Wang Liqiang said, “I don't know who she was either.”

He went on, “It was only after I called you that I looked around and realized there was someone there.” He opened his eyes wide in such an exaggerated expression of surprise that it made me laugh out loud.

As we got close to home, Wang Liqiang got down on his haunches and said to me quietly, “Let's not say we went to the country, but say instead that we met in the alley. Otherwise she might be annoyed.”

I thoroughly approved, for I was not keen on Li Xiuying knowing that I had gone off to play again after school.

But six months later I saw Wang Liqiang and the young woman together again, and this time I found it hard to believe that they were strangers to each other. I made my getaway before Wang Liqiang could see me, and later I sat down on a rock to puzzle things out. At eleven I could put two and two together, even if it took a bit of effort. Understanding now the improper relationship between the woman and Wang Liqiang, I thought, with a sudden shock, what a wicked man he was. But when I got home I kept quiet about it. I cannot fully recall what led me to keep quiet, but I remember that when I contemplated reporting the matter to Li Xiuying I found myself quaking with dread. Years later I would still wonder naively what would have happened if I had told Li Xiuying, and whether the sight of her pale and powerless outrage might have had just enough impact on Wang Liqiang to forestall his death.

The fact that I kept silent on this matter later enabled me to blackmail Wang Liqiang into not punishing me when I should have been punished. Despite all my best efforts the little wine cup that rested on the wireless finally came to a bad end. As I swiveled around while mopping the floor, the handle of the mop knocked the cup from its perch, and it fell to the floor and shattered. Of the property owned by this humble household, this cup was the only decorative element, and its destruction left me a bundle of nerves. Wang Liqiang would wring my neck with the same crisp snap with which he broke that cucumber.

That had been my fear when I first moved in, and I now knew he would not really do that, but I certainly anticipated a towering rage and severe punishment. I needed to do everything in my limited power to avoid this unhappy fate, and a preemptive threat seemed the best approach. Li Xiuying was in another room, unaware of the accident, so I quietly swept the fragments into the dustpan. By the time Wang Liqiang came home from work, I was so keyed up that I began to sob. Puzzled, Wang Liqiang crouched down and asked me, “What's wrong?”

In a quaking voice I delivered my threat, “If you beat me, I am going to tell about you and that lady!”

Wang Liqiang paled. He shook me and said, “I won't beat you. Why should I?”

That's when I told him, “I broke the wine cup.”

Wang Liqiang looked blank for a moment, but then he realized what had triggered my threat and broke into a smile. “That wine cup means nothing to me,” he said.

Not sure whether to believe him, I asked him, “So you're not going to beat me?”

He promised he would not, putting me completely at ease. To reciprocate, I whispered in his ear, “I won't say anything about the lady.”