Howard Goldblatt (Editor) - Chairman Mao Would Not Be Amused – Fiction From Today

Ma, it feels better when I massage You, doesn't it?

Much better. Your head was so big it was a very hard delivery. For two days and three nights, that wretched father of yours never showed his face at the delivery-room door. I was so angry I couldn't eat. My stomach ached from hunger…

Ma. Grief and indignation caused the big pale boneless hands to dig in too hard. The overripe purple grapes oozed two drops of pus-colored liquid. They hung there on the verge of falling off, quivering drops of muddy yellow, like a secret mixture of splendor and decay fighting off death. Mimi suddenly saw in the glass her own ghostly image.

Ai, you're all grown up. But I still remember what you were like as a child. You nursed at my breast every night and listened to me read "Snow White." You didn't blink. Remember? I spanked you once because you stole Leilei's hanky, and you curled up in my lap and cried half the night. Pretty soon, I started crying, too. Ai… words gradually gave way to soft moans.

Ma-the two mounds of withered yellow wrinkled skin were getting hot from the rubbing, turning red. His hands hesitated; they began to tremble. Terrified, he stared at the overripe, oozing purple grapes…

Mimi threw the towel over her shoulders, burst into the room, and stood there ramrod straight, beads of water streaming down her body.

You! The big pale boneless hands froze above Her chest. All rubbing motions stopped for a full two minutes.

Reluctantly, She opened her eyes. After a momentary fright, She calmed Herself down.

What's wrong with you? He quickly picked up the sheet to cover up Mimi's naked body. As though awakened from a dream, Mimi cast a flustered look at her own dripping body, knocked his hand away, and recoiled to the side.

I told you long ago she's got emotional problems. Look at her, the poor thing. You stay here; I'll take her to the hospital. A look of great compassion on Her face.

No. Mimi huddled next to him and gripped his hand tightly.

Mimi, go to the hospital with Mother, and let them see what's wrong, OK?

Mimi looked at him for a moment as though he were a stranger, before jerking her hand free and throwing off the sheet that covered her. She ran to her own room, stepping on the rays of starlight. The bed was swirling. She buried her head in the fluffy pillow, her eyes were tightly shut. He held Mimi in his arms. He could feel her trembling but couldn't hear the sobs stuck in her throat. His body was racked by a cold shudder that stabbed into his heart. Her long damp hair gave off steam that encircled the two faces. A sharp pain in his heart as he dug his fingernails into Mimi's flesh. Mimi shrank into his embrace; for a long, long time, her terrified eyes were glued to those fleshy big pale boneless hands. He peeled the wet strands of hair off her cheeks, touched her full lips. His muscles tensed as he nervously reached for her hand. Two limpid drops of water oozed out from under her tightly shut eyelids. Don't open your eyes, hold my hand. Let's find our way out of this dark-green grove together. Pointed leaves cradled strings of last night's dewdrops, emitting light-yellow rays. Don't reach out. Every dew-drop knocked to the ground is one more shattered heart. Pressed tightly together, they walked forward, hand in hand. Stillness reigned, broken only by the even sounds of their labored breathing. As he raised his head, his face was imprinted with golden splotches of light filtering through cracks in the dark-green canopy above. So was Mimi's snowy-white blouse. Creeping forward cautiously, their shoulders bent, they made their way through the dark-green grove, a pair of intertwining silk ribbons gliding back and forth like an empty emotion being poured into an empty heart.

Kiss me. In the translucent light of the sun, a pair of feet like those of a tiny animal rose up on their tiptoes. The pointed leaves rustled interminably, sending light-yellow dewdrops cascading to the ground, shattered. His back blocked out the sunlight; a wall of darkness suddenly spread out before Mimi's eyes, probably because the lamp at the head of the bed was smashed. In a flash, two naked bodies formed a scarlet forest. Mimi's mouth opened wide, fingernails dug into his back. No, don't stop… Don't stop. Mimi wanted to push him away, but she dug her fingers deeply into flesh that could have been his or could have been hers. Two vibrant lives formed a bright rainbow. Four eyes were tightly shut, blood-filled lips fused together, heaven and earth were about to explode, the ark was capsizing… Don't move! I hear something. Footsteps on broken glass, hobbling back and forth beyond the door. A swarm of ants gently raised up a berry; several little stars silently leaped onto the wet window ledge. Rain dripping from the eaves turned into fine drops, falling freely to the ground in threads. The berries were completely smashed, oozing crimson earth. Already rotten, they hid a hope in their hearts brighter than the eyes of birds; now that winter had passed, who could stop the multicolored seeds from sprouting green buds? The scarlet forest began to fade, gradually becoming a gloomy violet. Mimi's verdant heart suddenly withered and cracked; springtime fled without a trace.

Is she better? Her voice was soft and supple, like a rope twisted out of rubber.

Much better, Ma. He was desperate to convince Her that nothing had happened a moment ago.

Is she asleep?

She fell asleep long ago, Ma. Still desperate to convince Her, he turned on the light and opened the door. An icy hand descended on Mimi's forehead. Oh! She's feverish. Mimi raised her eyelids, which were nearly stuck shut. She saw a knifelike old face leaning over her, a glinting cold light like the dead grasses covering a winter pasture in whose roots were hidden the hope of rebirth for snakes and scorpions, ants and bugs. Mimi was like a spring that had been stretched too far, its tension completely lost. The channels in her heart slowed down, twisted; last night, so transparent, would decompose where it stuck. She tossed down a green stone. The echo from the bottom of her heart reverberated, was still reverberating. I'm not sick! I'm not. Mimi sensed that she was an emotional, kind-hearted sparrow silently keeping watch over a nonexistent snake track in the darkness of a vast forest. Deep autumn, when the birds fly south, and Mimi no longer had the strength to cross the single-file bridge of his heart.

Profound sorrow wrapped itself around her. All Mimi could do was cry.

Mimi, you're sick.

There are yardsticks all over the world, but not a speck of land for me anywhere. Take my measure with your yardstick, take your measure with mine.

What nonsense is that? Mimi. You really are sick.

She has no husband, I have no father. None of us has a father.

Mimi, snap out of it. I love you, Mother loves you, too… She loves…

She loves acting high and mighty the foreign superstition of not going outside on Friday the thirteenth eating sausage sandwiches even if they taste funny drinking coffee without sugar destroying nerves that are already too fragile…

Why do you insist on making this relationship impossible!

The relationship is cruel enough already. At first, I was confident in my youth and my good looks, confident that no one could replace the love of a wife. Heh-heh, I was wrong. You'll never have the courage to cut the umbilical cord, and, of course, that's what She's counting on. It's not enough just to be your wife…

Goddamn that Freud and his theories!

No, it's more than that. It's castration. Most Chinese men are swallowed up by maternal love. There's nothing left. I want nothing. I'm leaving.

What nonsense is that? You're sick. Where do you think you're going?

… Mimi walked into the gray misty dusk empty-handed.

You can't leave. He reached out but grabbed only the empty dusk air, like an infant who's lost the nipple and stares into a great void.