Yu Hua: Cries in the Drizzle

Rain began to fall, and I ran ahead as fast as I could. Suddenly I saw flames in the distance. The rain grew heavier, pitting its strength against the fire, but the blaze, far from weakening, was crackling with even greater fury. It had asserted itself in the rain like an unstoppable cry, and now it was burning with a vengeance.

By the light of the fire I could make out the wooden bridge that led to Southgate, and memories from the past gave me the happy sensation that I was already home. As I dashed through the rain, a hot breeze swept over me and a tangle of voices reached my ears. By the time I arrived, the flames had died down, and now they were just licking the ground; the rain had dropped off. I entered the village of Southgate amid clamor and commotion.

My two brothers stood there in shock, sheets wrapped around them; I didn't recognize them as Sun Guangping and Sun Guangming. Nor did I realize that the woman kneeling on the ground and wailing was my mother. Next to them, in an untidy heap, were items rescued from the flames. Then I saw a man naked to the waist, his scrawny chest exposed to the chilly autumn wind. In a hoarse voice he was telling the bystanders how many things had been lost in the inferno. Tears rolled from his eyes. He smiled at them desolately and said, “You all got to see a big fire, didn't you? It was a grand sight, that's for sure, but it's cost me a right bundle.”

I did not know that he was my father, but something drew me to him, so I went up and loudly announced, “I'm looking for Sun Kwangtsai.”