Mo Yan - Frog

At ten o’clock Wang Renmei arrived during a cloudburst in the company of two female cousins. In their raingear they looked like dike control volunteers. A plastic tent with a stove inside had been thrown up in our yard. I was on my haunches stoking a fire with a bellows to boil water. My cousin Wuguan (Facial Features), who was known for speaking his mind, said: What’s a hero of the self-defence-counterattack conflict doing crouched down by a stove to heat water when his bride-to-be has arrived? Then come take my place, I said. No, your mother put me in charge of the firecrackers, which will require all my skills in this rain-squall. Wuguan, Mother called from the doorway, stop the idle chatter. It’s time for the firecrackers. He reached under his coat and removed a string of firecrackers wrapped in plastic. After he lit the fuse, he held the string in his hand — no pole for him — opened an umbrella, and leaned out into the rain to set them off. The pounding water kept the gunpowder residue from spreading beyond him. Wuguan, kids cried out as they clapped their hands and stomped their feet, all soaked to the skin, Wuguan, you’re turning green! What are those pathetic excuses for children shouting? Mother remarked.

This is how it was supposed to happen: the bride was to say nothing as she entered the house and went straight to the wedding chamber, where she sat on the kang to wait, what’s known as ‘sitting in bed’. But Wang Renmei stopped as soon as she was in the yard to watch Wuguan do his thing. His face was blackened by the firecracker residue, as if he’d stepped out from a stove. That made her laugh. She ignored the tugs on her sleeves by the bridesmaids. Her high-heeled plastic shoes made her taller than ever, tall and straight as a tree. Wuguan looked her up and down. Anyone who wants to kiss you, good Sister-in-law, will have to stand on a ladder! he quipped. Be quiet, Wuguan, Mother demanded. You’re a moron, Wuguan, Wang Renmei said. Wang Dan and Chen Bi don’t need a ladder when they kiss! Hearing the bride trading quips with her soon-to-be brother-in-law in the yard had the older women whispering among themselves. I emerged from the tent with my coal shovel. Our hero has emerged! the clapping, stomping kids cried out. Here’s our hero!

I was wearing a new uniform, with a Merit Third Class medal pinned to my chest, my face as black as soot, coal shovel in hand, looking like a freak of nature. Wang Renmei doubled over laughing. I was so confused I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. She seemed to be losing her mind. Take her inside this minute! Mother insisted. Madam, I said to Renmei with dripping sarcasm, the wedding chamber awaits. It’s too stuffy in there, she said. It’s nice and cool out here. Ao! Ao! Ao! the clamouring kids shouted. I ran inside, grabbed a gourdful of sweets, then stood in the doorway and flung them down the lane. When the kids swarmed over to fight for them in the mud, I grabbed Renmei by the wrist and pulled her inside, unfortunately banging her head with a loud thump as she went through the low door. Ouch! she complained. Damn you, you’ve cracked my head open. The older women laughed so hard they were rocking back and forth.

The room was too small for so many people. We could hardly turn around. The three young women took off their dripping raingear, but the only place they could hang it was over the door. The floor was wet to begin with, and the muddy soles of their shoes had made a real mess. Piled high at the head of a kang barely two square metres were four new quilts, two bed mats, two woollen blankets, and two pillows, all from Renmei’s family; they nearly touched the ceiling. The moment Renmei sat down, she shouted, Damn, this is no bed, it’s a frying pan!

This comment so incensed Mother that she banged her cane on the floor. Frying pan or no, you sit there! We’ll see if it manages to cook your butt.

That too made Renmei laugh. Xiaopao, she said under her breath, your mother has a great sense of humour. But if my butt really does get cooked, how will I give you your champion athlete?

I was so mad I was getting dizzy. But I couldn’t show it on such an auspicious day, so I reached out to touch the bed surface. It burned my finger. All the aunts and grannies in the family were expecting to eat, so the stove never had a chance to cool down — steaming buns, stir frying vegetables, boiling noodles — until the bed mat nearly melted. I took one of the quilts from the pile, folded it into a square, and laid it on the bed against the wall. Madam, I said, please take your seat. She giggled. Xiaopao, she said, you’re a riot, calling me madam. Follow local customs and call me daughter-in-law or, like you used to, Renmei. I didn’t know what to say. With a crazy bride like her, what could I say? My sarcasm in calling her madam had gone right over her head, and she didn’t realise I was unhappy with her. All right, I said, Daughter-in-law Renmei, please take your seat. With help from the two bridesmaids, I took off her shoes and her soaked stockings so she could climb up onto the bed. She immediately stood up, her head nearly touching the ceiling. In that cramped little room, she looked taller than ever, so tall the calves of her crane legs seemed to disappear. And her feet — they were almost as big as mine — two large, bare feet dancing on a little kang. By custom, the bridesmaids were supposed to sit next to the bride, but there was no room, so one of them stood by the wall, the other sat on the very edge of the kang. To show off, Renmei stood on tiptoes to see if she could touch the ceiling with her head. It was all a game to her — walking on tiptoes in circles and jumping up and down to bump the ceiling with her head. With her hand on the doorframe, Mother stuck her head in. Daughter-in-law, she said, if you ruin the kang, where will you sleep tonight? If it’s broken, she giggled, I’ll sleep on the floor.

At sunset Gugu came over for dinner. Gugu’s here, she called out as she walked in the door. Isn’t anyone going to welcome me?

We ran out to greet her. We didn’t think you’d be coming with all that rain, Mother said.

She had come with an oil paper umbrella, her pant legs rolled up, and bare feet, shoes tucked under her armpits.

You couldn’t keep me away from the wedding of my nephew the hero if knives fell from the sky, Gugu said.

I’m no hero, Gugu, I said. I’m only a commissary officer, in charge of cooking. I’ve never laid eyes on an enemy soldier.

Commissary officers are important. Men are iron, food is steel. If a soldier doesn’t get enough to eat, how’s he going to face an enemy charge? Now get me something to eat, so I can get back in time. The river’s swelling and if it swamps the bridge I’ll be stuck.

That’ll give you a chance to rest here a couple of days, Mother said. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a chance to talk. You can tell us stories tonight.

Not tonight, Gugu said. The Political Consultative Congress is meeting tomorrow.

Xiaopao, did you know your aunt received an official promotion as a member of the standing committee?

Did you say official? Gugu said. More like adding rotten goji berries to a plate just to fill it up.

Gugu walked into the western room, sending all the people into a flurry of activity. The ones sitting on the kang tried squeezing together to make room for her. Stay where you are, she said. I’m leaving right after I have a few bites.

Mother told my sister to make a plate of food for Gugu, who went over, took the lid off a pot on the stove, and took out a corn muffin. It was so hot she sort of hissed as she tossed it from hand to hand. Finally she split it open, put some steamed pork with rice between the two halves, folded them back, and took a bite. Um um, she said. I don’t need a plate, she said, or a bowl. This is the way I like to eat. Ever since I’ve been working at this job I haven’t eaten more than a few real sit-down meals.