Can Xue - The Embroidered Shoes

Father had been spreading the rumor that he left home because of unbearable oppression. He also said he had been living on fish and shrimp, but it wasn’t true, because he sneaked back home to steal food. It wasn’t even discreet stealing but brazen robbery. Though at every theft, they all pretended not to notice. They played their roles so well that I was tempted to think they had trouble with their eyesight. Maybe they were able not to see something — for instance, father pilfering food — if they didn’t want to see it. On the other hand, they could always see something, for instance, our disappeared mother, if they wanted to see it. Therefore, they discriminated against people with eyes like mine. Sunglasses once commented about me, “It’s horrifying for a person to develop such an unfortunate temperament as his.”

For several days, I’d felt terribly dizzy. I dared not look at people, or even look out the window. Wrapping my head in a cotton-padded quilt, I had lain in bed for three days and three nights. The fourth day, I supported myself by leaning against the wall and moved to the door muddleheadedly. I stood there clutching the doorframe. In the wind, everything was tilted and had several silhouettes. It was impossible to see anything clearly. Under that dead tree sat my mother. She had her nylons peeled down and was scratching her swollen feet. Because of the wind, her white hair stood toward the sky. She looked like a primitive figure. “Mo-ma!” I called out in a funny way. She turned her head toward me. I saw an unfamiliar, vague face. This was a young woman. “Your illness is serious. You’ve had that disease for a long time. It started from inside, and the hope for recovery is slim. You should keep this fact covered up.” She made a resolute gesture with a sneer.

My mouth felt very heavy, and the wind was so noisy I couldn’t hear my own voice. So I shouted, “I can’t see anything clearly! My head has a bellowing inside! You are young, so why is your hair all white?”

“That’s the problem with your eyes,” she sneered viciously. “From now on, just don’t use your eyes anymore. It’s much better that way. Your dizziness is caused solely by the eyes. I have a relative who is suffering from the same disease. He used his eyes so much that eventually his eyeballs fell out. Since you can’t see things anymore, you have to admit it as a defect. Ambition will lead to no good ending.”

I remembered that red snake berries once grew along the wall. Bending low and closing my eyes, I could feel them with my trembling fingers.

The sky was dim; everything underneath it looked like some kind of fluid. Three white geese flew through the mist like swimmers, then in one white flash they all disappeared. My finger touched a snail. My heart quivered, and my body was covered with goose bumps. Forcing my eyes open, I saw the woman fall back, farther and farther away. My eyeballs expanded so fast that I felt they might drop out of their sockets.

“I’ve also been sick,” she waved her hand at last. “You’ve seen that my feet are swollen like carrots. I feel terrible every time I touch them … I’ve been taking extra precautions to hide it.”

“You, go lie down.” My third sister jabbed my back and said with boredom, “Your spine is like a snake in puberty.”

Half conscious, I felt my way back to bed and covered myself with the quilt. Even inside the quilt, I could still hear the noise of my sister rummaging through chests and cupboards and also the howling and crying of her fiancé being chased and beaten. My third sister was getting more and more unbridled daily. She let down her hair and wore shorts and T-shirts. She beat my quilt with a broom. I had never thought she possessed such strength. In fact, her asthma was only one of her little dramas made up out of nowhere. She always succeeded at whatever she involved herself in. I curled up inside the quilt, soaking with sweat, waiting for the fit to die down.

It was getting dark, and I still couldn’t get up. I dug out a broken mirror and looked into it. I saw a vague lump of a face, with two reddened balls rolling around in it. They must have been my eyeballs. I tossed the mirror aside. It crashed on the concrete floor with an irritating sound.

In the dim red light the fiancé’s round face appeared. It had a gray lining. His tongue flickered in and out, as if playing a new trick. I listened carefully and heard his voice.

“Why are you lying down? The situation in the family is very complicated. You must beware of pine moths. I’m surprised that when I was living in the temple with your father, I felt much more relaxed. Now I’m shaking with fright, in fear of stepping on a pine moth. They are crawling everywhere. Often when you’re about to fall asleep, you’ll find one hidden in your quilt. When the old fellow brought back that pine branch, I anticipated such an unsolvable problem today. It’s been one week that your third sister has been eliminating those poisonous insects. Our quilt has been ruined completely by the beatings. She is never merciful, and she has a stony heart…” As he spoke, he lost his concentration.

“Do you think I have glaucoma?” Breathing with difficulty, I saw him melt into a shadow.

“Ahmm, in the temple, one heard the seeds of the Chinese parasol tree drop to the ground every night. Your father will never come back. He’s got what he wanted, and now he’s boasting about himself to the proprietress.”

The very night when the fiancé warned me about the pine moths, I was attacked by them. They crawled into my quilt and nestled close to my legs, waist, arms — like a carpet full of needles. Turning on the light, I peeled them away and threw them out the window. Yet hardly had I lain down than they were with me again. They rustled; they pricked. I felt dizzy with pain. So I turned the light on again, and peeled them off, and threw them out, again and again. I was exhausted, but still couldn’t sleep. In the morning, I found no pine moths but only skin made raw from scratching.

“It’s tragic to be attacked by pine moths.” My third sister was staring at me. “There’s no use to try hiding. You have to be whipped severely. When I’m in the mood, I often rip the whole quilt with my whip. Yesterday, I almost whipped the doctor’s eyeballs out. He was in my way. Serves him right whoever dares to block me.” Her T-shirt had dark wrinkles under the armpits. She was standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips. Her face had a murderous look. “In the temple, pine moths swarm out of the rotten floorboards every time the mountain wind blows. The day before yesterday I found that father’s hair was filled with such insects. He was sleeping on the floor, and the moths were making nests in his hair. ‘Jingle-jingle,’ a little lamb was eating grass. When the wind stopped, the lamb would run very fast. Tiny pebbles rattled down … Ha, our father, it’s extremely difficult to figure out his attitude toward life.”

“I’d like to consult with others about our obstacles in verbal expression.” My mind was working, yet my mouth was motionless. My lips had turned into a pair of iron clips.

“Hush.” My third sister stopped me. Apparently she had heard the sentence in my mind. “Wild flights of fancy can only worsen your sickness. Let me tell you the cause of my asthma. It was caused by the medicine that the doctor prescribed. He was making fun of my emotions. What a fool I was to believe him. My heart breaks now that I think of it! Don’t you take any medicine. It can only cause a neurosis. Never believe the doctor in this family. When you think about it, you won’t be surprised to find that he is not a doctor at all. I believed it just because I wanted to. These days Mother chats with me about wild bees every night and about her lost wallet. I was moved to tears. In one stretch, I find myself walking on that stone path. When dawn comes, I realize that there is no wallet. She made up the whole story just to get my sympathy. Our mother squats in the corner making up such stories for others. She is immensely proud of herself whenever somebody is taken in.”