Mo Yan - The Garlic Ballads

Jinju’s heartbreaking wails so startled the orioles above her that they squawked loudly and flew off to points unknown.

“Elder Brother Gao Ma … Eider Brother Gao Ma … come save me … hurry.” Her loud wails shattered the silence of the willow grove.

The child in her belly would not be mollified. Cruel and relendess, his bloodshot eyes opened wide, he screeched, “Let me out of here! Let me out, I say!”

By bracing herself against the tree and biting down hard on her lip, she was able to struggle to her feet. Every punch and kick doubled her up with pain and wrenched a tortured shout from her throat. The image of that frightful little thing floated before her eyes: skinny, dark, a high nose, big eyes, two rows of hard teeth.

Dont bite me, child … let loose … don’t bite….

Forcing herself into a crouch, she shuffled forward a few steps amid drooping willow branches whose leaves were covered with aphids that fell onto her face, neck, hair, and shoulders when she brushed against them. The warm liquid was seeping into her shoes, where it mixed with sand to form a gritty mud that made her feet slip and slide as if her shoes were filled with slime. She moved from one willow tree to the next, forcing them all to share the torment she endured. Hordes of aphids twinkled like fireflies, until the willow branches and leaves seemed coated with oil.

Child … don’t glare at me like that… don’t do that…. I know you’re suffocating from oppression … not eating well, nothing good to drink … want to come out….

Jinju stumbled and fell, wrenching a painful shout from the child in her belly, who savagely bit the wall of the womb. The stabbing pain brought her to her knees. She crawled on the ground in agony, fingers digging into the sandy soil like steel claws.

Child … you bit a hole in me … bit ahole. … I have to crawl like alowly dog….

Her belly scraped the sandy ground as she moved ahead on all fours, sweat and teardrops marking her passage in the dust. She cried her heart out, all because of an unruly, trouble-making, black-hearted child who was ripping her apart. She was terrified of the spiteful little brat who squirmed like a silkworm inside her, trying to stretch the limits of the space that confined him. But the walls were springy as rubber, so he no sooner stretched it in one spot than it snapped back in another. That made him so angry he flailed and kicked and bit for all he was worth. “You bitch! You lousy bitch!” he cursed.

Child … oh, my child … spare me … your mother…. I’ll get down on my knees for you….

Moved by her pleas, he stopped biting and kicking the wall of her womb. The pain eased up at once, and she let her tear-streaked, sweat-soaked face drop to the sandy soil, overcome with gratitude for her sons display of mercy.

The setting sun painted the tips of the willow trees gold. Jinju raised her dusty, gritty face and saw wisps of milky-white smoke rising above the village. Gingerly she stood up, fearful of rekindling the anger of her child.

By the time she made her way to Gao Mas door, the red sun had fallen well below the willow branches. The snapping of whips above the heads of oxen on village roads and the strains of music steeped in salty water turned the evening sky a bright red.

I think about your mother, who departed early for the Yellow Springs,

Leaving you and your sisters miserable and lonely—

A motherless child is a horse with no reins.

On your own at fourteen to sing in a brothel:

Since the dawn of time harlots have been spared hughter reserved for the poor…

Instead of selling your body you should have a memorial arch erected in your honor

To repay this debt of blood .

2.

They pushed and squeezed their way out of the jute field. The high sun had burned off the pervasive mist and cleared heaven and earth. Across the pale strip of road they saw thousands of acres of chili peppers planted by Pale Horse County farmers — a stretch of fiery red as far as the eye could see.

The moment they emerged from the field, Jinju felt as if she were standing naked in front of a crowd. Frantic with shame, she quickly retreated back into the field, followed by Gao Ma. “Keep moving,” he pressed her. “Why cower in here?”

“Elder Brother Gao Ma,” she said, “we can’t travel in broad daylight.”

“We’re in Pale Horse County now. No one knows us here,” Gao Ma said with mounting anxiety.

“I’m scared. What if we run into somebody we know?”

“We wont,” he reassured her. “And even if we did, we have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“How can you say that? Look what you’ve done to me….” She sat down and began to cry.

“All right, my little granny,” he said, exasperated. “You women are scared of wolves in front and tigers in back, changing your minds every couple of minutes.”

“I can’t walk anymore. My legs hurt.”

“No flimsy excuses now.”

“And I’m sleepy.”

First scratching his head, then shaking it, Gao Ma said, “We can’t live the rest of our lives in this jute field.”

“I don’t care, I’m not moving while the suns out.”

“Then we’ll wait till tonight.” He helped her to her feet. “But let’s move inside a little. It’s too dangerous here.”

“I …”

“I know, you can’t walk anymore.” He knelt in front of her. “I’ll carry you piggyback.” After handing her his bundle, he reached back and wrapped his arms around the back of her knees. She glided effortlessly up onto his back.

Before long he was huffing and puffing, his dark neck thrust out at a sharp angle. Beginning to take pity on him, she prodded him with her knees. “Put me down,” she said. “I can walk now.”

Without a word in reply, Gao Ma slid his hands upward until they were cupped around her buttocks, which he gentìy squeezed. A feeling as if her organs were blossoming like fresh flowers spread through her body. She moaned and lightly pummeled Gao Ma’s neck, he tripped, and they fell in a heap.

The jute plants trembled uneasily — only a few at first, but they were soon joined by the others as a wind rose, and all the sounds in the world were swallowed up by the booming yet surprisingly gende noise of jute leaves and branches scraping against one another.

3.

Early the following morning, Jinju and Gao Ma, their clothes dusty and wet with dew, walked up to the Pale Horse County long-distance bus station.

It was a tall, handsome building — on the outside, at least — whose colorfully shaded lights above the gate illuminated both the large red letters of the signboard and the pale-green plaster façade. Pushcarts that opened after dark formed two rows leading up to the gate, like a long eorridor. Sleepy-eyed vendors, male and female, stood wearily behind their carts. Jinju watched a young vendor in her twenties cover up a yawn with her hand; when she was finished, tears stood in her eyes, which looked like lethargic tadpoles in the reflected blue flames from a sizzling gas lantern.

“Sweet pears … sweet pears … want some sweet pears?” a woman called to them from behind her pushcart. “Grapes … grapes … buy these fine grapes!” a man called from behind his. Apples, autumn peaches, honeyed dates: whatever you could desire, they sold. The smell of overripe fruit hung in the air, and the ground was littered with waste paper, the rotting skins of various fruits, and human excrement.

Jinju imagined something hidden behind the vendors’ benign looks. Deep down they’re cursing or laughing at me, she thought. They know who I am, and they know the things? ve done over the past couple of days. That one over there, she can see the mud stains on my back and the crushed jute leaves on my clothes. And that old bastard over there, staring at me like I’m one of those women…. Overwhelmed by a powerful sense of degradation, Jinju shrank inward until her legs froze and her lips were tightly shut. Lowering her head in abject shame, she held on to Gao Ma’s jacket. Feelings of remorse returned, and a sense that the road ahead was sealed to her. Thoughts of the future were terrifying.