Frog (11 page)

On the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month, the day the kitchen god is sent off, my daughter was born. Cousin Wuguan brought us home from the commune health centre on his tractor. Before we left, Gugu said to me: I inserted an IUD in your wife. Wang Renmei ripped the scarf off her head and confronted her: How could you do that without my permission? Gugu put the scarf back. Keep that on, so you won’t catch cold. Inserting IUDs right after birth has been ordered by the family-planning group. No exceptions. If you had married a farmer and your first child was a girl, you could remove the IUD eight years later and have a second child. But you married my nephew, an army officer, for whom the rules are more stringent. A second child means immediate dismissal and a return to the farm. So don’t ever think about a second child. There’s a price to be paid for the opportunity to marry an army officer.

Renmei sobbed like a baby.

With our infant wrapped tightly in my overcoat, I climbed onto the tractor. Let’s go, I said to Wuguan.

We chugged down the pitted country road, black smoke puffing from the exhaust pipe. Renmei lay in the cab, covered by a quilt, her sobs punctuated by each bump in the road. Who said she could insert an IUD . . . no permission . . . how come I can’t have more than one . . . who says so . . .

Stop crying, I said. She was trying my patience. It’s national policy. That only made her cry harder. She stuck her head out from under the quilt; her face was pale, her lips blue, and there were flecks of straw in her hair. Who says? It’s something your aunt dreamed up. They’re not this strict in Jiao County. Your aunt is just looking for commendations and a promotion. No wonder people rage against her.

Shut up, I said. If you’ve got something to say, wait till we get home. If you cry and carry on the whole way, people will laugh at us.

She threw off the quilt and sat up. Glaring at me, she snarled: Who will laugh at me? I’d like to see who has the guts to laugh at me.

Bicycles kept passing us. We were pummelled by a cold north wind, with frost on the ground as a red sun climbed into the sky. Steam from the riders’ mouths frosted their eyebrows. The sight of Renmei, with her dry, chapped lips, dishevelled hair, and staring eyes was nearly unbearable, and I had to say something kind. No one’s going to laugh at you, now lie back and cover up. Getting sick during the first month is no laughing matter.

That doesn’t scare me. I’m like a pine tree atop Mount Tai, fighting the bitter cold and warding off the wind and snow. I have a morning sun in my chest.

I forced a smile. I know all about you, I said, you’re a mighty hero. Aren’t you insisting you want a second child? Well, that won’t happen if you ruin your health with this one.

Suddenly there was life in her eyes. You agree we’ll have a second child, she said excitedly. You just said so, I heard you. Did you hear that, Wuguan? You’re my witness.

Okay, I’m your witness, Wuguan said in a soft, muffled voice up front.

She lay back down compliantly and drew the quilt up over her head. You’d better be true to your word, Xiaopao, her voice came from underneath. You’ll have me to deal with if you don’t.

When our tractor reached the head of the village, we saw two people arguing on the bridge, and blocking our way.

My classmate Yuan Sai was having an argument with the villager who made clay figurines, Hao Dashou (Big Hand).

Hao Dashou was holding Yuan Sai by the wrist.

Let me go! Yuan Sai was yelling as he tried to break free. Let me go!

His struggles weren’t working.

Wuguan got down off the tractor and walked up to them. What’s going on here, guys? Who gets into a fight this early in the morning?

I’m glad you’re here, Wuguan, Yuan Sai said. You can talk some sense into him. He was pushing his cart in front of me, and I wanted to pass him on my bicycle. He was bearing to the left, so I went to the right. But when I got up right behind him, he shifted his arse and moved to the right. Fortunately, I’ve got good reflexes. I let go of the handlebars and jumped onto the bridge. I could have been dumped into the icy river with my bicycle. If it didn’t kill me, it would have crippled me. But Uncle Hao blames me for his cart winding up under the bridge.

Hao said nothing in rebuttal; he just held onto Yuan Sai’s wrist.

So I stepped down off the tractor with the baby in my arms. When my foot hit the ground, a sharp pain shot up my leg. Damn, it was cold that morning.

I hobbled up the bridge, where I saw a bunch of coloured clay dolls. Some were smashed, others were fine. A beat-up old bicycle lay on the icy surface of the eastern side of the bridge, a little yellow flag curled up alongside it. I knew without looking that the words ‘Little Immortal’ were embroidered on the flag. Yuan Sai, different from other people, had been odd even as a child. He could draw nails out of a cow’s belly with a magnet, he could geld pigs and dogs, and he was proficient in physiognomy, feng shui, geomantic omens, and the eight trigrams of the
Book of Changes
. Complimented by some people as the ‘Little Immortal’, he affixed an apricot yellow flag embroidered with those words to the rear rack of his bicycle, where it snapped in the wind. At the market, he planted the flag in the ground. His business flourished.

A wheelbarrow lay tipped over on the icy surface to the west; one handle was broken, as were the two willow baskets it had been carrying, the contents – dozens of clay dolls, most of them smashed – strewn across the ice. A tiny few remained whole and undamaged. Everyone was in awe of Hao Dashou, a true eccentric. Holding a lump of clay in his large, skillful hands, he’d fix his eyes on you and, in hardly any time, produce a remarkable likeness. He didn’t stop making his dolls even during the Cultural Revolution. Both his father and grandfather had made fine clay likenesses of children, but his were better than theirs. He made his living creating and selling human dolls only. He didn’t have to. He could also have made simple figurines of dogs, monkeys and tigers, which were popular with children, who were the primary customers for such artisans. Adults would not spend money on something their children did not like. But Hao Dashou made only children. He lived in a large house with five main rooms, two side rooms, and a big tent out in the yard; all were filled with clay figurines. Some were finished, with powdered faces and all the features in the right places; others were awaiting the application of colour. There was only enough empty space on his kang for him to lie down; the rest was cluttered with clay figurines. A man in his forties, he had a ruddy face and grey hair that was combed into a braid at the back. Even his beard was grey.

Neighbouring counties had figurine artisans too, but their dolls came from a single pattern and were identical. His were all made by hand, every one unique. People said: He made all the dolls in Northeast Gaomi Township. People said: Every resident of Northeast Gaomi Township can see what he looked like as a child. People said: He only went to market to sell dolls when he was out of rice. He sold his dolls with tears in his eyes, as if he were selling his own children. I could barely imagine the pain all those shattered dolls caused him. Why
wouldn’t
he hold Yuan Sai by the wrist?

I walked up, holding my baby in my arms. I’d been in the army so long, it would have felt unnatural to be in civilian clothes, so I’d accompanied Renmei to the hospital in uniform. A young military officer carrying a newborn infant had plenty of authority. Let Yuan Sai go, Uncle, I said. He didn’t mean to do it.

Yes, that’s right, Uncle, I didn’t mean it, Yuan Sai sobbed. Be forgiving. I’ll find someone to fix your wheelbarrow and baskets, and I’ll pay for the broken dolls.

For my sake, I said, and for the sake of my daughter and her mother, let him go so we can cross the bridge.

Renmei poked her head out from the cabin. Uncle Hao! she shouted. Can you make me an identical pair of boy dolls?

Popular wisdom in the township had it that if a woman bought one of Hao Dashou’s dolls, tied a red string around its neck, laid it at the head of the kang, and made offerings to it, she’d have a baby exactly like it. But Hao would not let people choose the dolls they wanted. Artisans in other counties laid their wares out on the ground for people to choose. Hao Dashou kept his in covered willow baskets. After sizing up the buyer, he’d reach into one of his baskets to take one out, and that would be the only one he’d sell you. If you complained it wasn’t attractive enough, he would not exchange it. With a sad smile on his lips, though he’d say nothing, you could almost hear him saying, Are there really parents who complain that their children are ugly? The more you look at the doll in your hand, the more it appeals to you, and the more alive it becomes, like a living breathing child. He won’t bargain with you, and if you don’t offer him money, he won’t ask for any. No one ever heard him say thanks when they did pay, and people gradually came around to feeling that buying one of his dolls was much the same as ordering a real child from him. The talk kept getting stranger. If the doll he sold you was a girl, they’d say, when you went home, you’d have a girl; if it was a boy doll, that’s what you’d have. And if he took out two, you’d go home and have twins. This was a totally mystical arrangement, one that held up as long as you didn’t talk about it. People like my wife were impossible to reason with, and no one but she would blatantly try to get a pair of boys out of him. By the time the mysterious talk about Hao Dashou first reached our ears, she was already pregnant. It only worked before a woman was pregnant.

For my sake, Dashou let go of Yuan Sai, who rubbed his wrist and sobbed, This has been a terrible day for me. I walked out the gate and saw a bitch piss in my direction, and, sure enough, I walked into trouble.

Hao bent down to pick up the broken doll pieces and tucked them into his jacket. Then he moved to the side of the bridge to let us pass. There was frost on his beard and a solemn look on his face.

What did she have? Yuan Sai asked.

A girl.

No problem. The next one will be a boy.

There’ll be no next one.

Don’t you worry, Yuan Sai said with a conspiratorial wink. I’ll think of something when the time comes.

My daughter was nine days old on the first day of the year of the dog. According to local custom, this was a day of momentous significance, and friends and relatives arrived to help celebrate. We asked Wuguan and Yuan Sai to come over the day before to help us borrow all the tables and chairs, teapots and cups, glasses, plates, and chopsticks we’d need. A rough calculation came up with about fifty people. That meant two tables each in the eastern and western side rooms for the male guests, and one table in Mother’s room for the women. I produced a menu with eight cold plates and eight hot dishes per table, in addition to a soup. Yuan Sai took one look and laughed. This won’t do, my friend. Your guests are all farmers. They’ve got stomachs like bushel bags. What you have there is an appetiser for them. Listen to me, he went on. Forget all the variety and just pile on the meat. That and a big bowl of strong liquor counts as a feast for farming people. You’re being too fancy, and their chopsticks won’t be moving long before it’s all gone; then they’ll wait for more – which won’t be forthcoming. You’ll lose face, big time. I knew he was right, so I had Wuguan go to town for fifty jin of pork, half lean and half fat, and ten braised chickens, the kind with plenty of meat on their bones. Then I went out and ordered forty jin of tofu from Wang Huan, the bean curd peddler, and told Yuan Sai to buy ten Chinese cabbages, ten jin of bean noodles and twenty jin of liquor. Renmei’s family sent over 200 hen’s eggs, and when her father, my father-in-law, saw the preparations, he had a satisfied look. Son-in-law, he said, now you’ve done it. People have always laughed at your family for being cheap, but this lavish arrangement will change that when you send everyone home with a full belly. People who accomplish big things need to do everything in a big way.

About half the guests had arrived when it dawned on me that I’d forgotten to buy cigarettes. So I told Wuguan to go to the co-op to get some just as Chen Bi and Wang Dan arrived with their baby. Wuguan pointed to the gift they’d brought. No need to buy cigarettes, he said.

Chen Bi had done well in recent years, becoming one of the village’s rich men, what we called a ‘ten-thousand-aire’. He’d gone to Shenzhen and brought back some digital watches, which he’d sold to fad-crazy young people. Then he went to Jinan where he bought cigarettes from a wholesaler he knew and had Wang Dan sell them in the marketplace.

I’d seen her peddling them. She’d hung a well-designed device around her neck – a carrying case folded up and a display rack when let down. She’d dressed in a form-fitting blue jacket, with her baby strapped to her back in a cotton poncho, so only her nose showed. Whether they knew her or not, everyone who passed by took careful notice of her. The locals all knew she was the wife of the cigarette merchant Chen Bi, and the mother of the chubby little one on her back; outsiders took pity on the pretty girl who was out selling cigarettes with her baby sister on her back. Folks usually bought her cigarettes out of sympathy.

On this day Chen Bi was wearing a stiff pigskin leather jacket over a cable-knit turtleneck sweater. His face was red, his chin freshly shaved – big nose, sunken eyes with grey irises, hair curled.

Moneybags is here, Wuguan announced.

Moneybags, my eye, Chen Bi said. A small-time entrepreneur is more like it.

Tovarisch, Yuan Sai said. Your Chinese is pretty good, comrade.

Chen Bi raised the package he was holding. I’ll give you a taste of this! he threatened.

Cigarettes? Yuan Sai shouted. Just what everyone’s been clamouring for.

Chen Bi flung the package at Yuan Sai, who caught it and opened it to find four packs of Rooster cigarettes.

A true businessman, he said. How generous.

With that mouth of yours, Yuan Sai, Wang Dan said in a tiny voice, you could make a dead man dance disco.

Aiya, Sister-in-law, pardon my lack of manners, but how come he isn’t holding you in his arms?

I’ll split your lip! she said as she raised her hand threateningly.

Pick me up, Mama . . . It was Chen Er, who came around from behind her; she was now nearly as tall as her mother.

Chen Er, I said as I bent down and picked her up. How about letting your uncle hold you?

She started to cry, so Chen Bi took her from me and patted her bottom. Don’t cry, Er-er. I thought you wanted to see your uncle the army officer.

Chen Er reached out for Wang Dan.

She’s shy around strangers, Chen Bi said as he handed her to her mother. A moment ago she was fussing about wanting to see her uncle the army officer.

Just then, Wang Renmei smacked her hand against the windowsill. Wang Dan, she shouted, come here!

Carrying her daughter like a big toy in a puppy’s mouth, a sight that was both comical and earnest, Wang Dan waddled over like a cartoon animal, her daughter’s legs wrapped around her.

What a lovely little girl, I said. Like a doll.

How could a Soviet girl
not
be lovely? Yuan Sai said with an exaggerated wink. Brother Bi, everyone says you’re hard-hearted, that you don’t give your wife a moment’s rest.

Shut your mouth! Chen Bi said.

Go easier on her, Yuan Sai persisted. She’s still going to have to give you a son.

Didn’t I tell you to shut your mouth? Chen Bi gave him a kick.

Okay, already, Yuan Sai said with a laugh. I’ll shut it. But I want you to know how much I envy you. Married all these years, and still enjoying a good hug and a kiss. There’s your proof that love marriages and arranged marriages are nothing alike.

Everybody’s got troubles, and you, for one, don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Chen Bi said.

I gave Chen Bi’s belly a friendly pat. I see you’ve got a general’s paunch.

Life is good, he said. I never dreamed I’d one day enjoy such a good life.

You can thank Chairman Hua for that, Yuan Sai said.

I’d rather thank Chairman Mao, Chen Bi said. If the old fellow hadn’t up and died, everything would be the same as before.

More guests had arrived and were standing in the yard listening to our conversation. Even those who had gone inside were coming out to see what the commotion was all about.

My cousin Jin Xiu approached Chen Bi, looked up at him, and said, Elder Brother Chen, you’re like a god in our village.

Chen took out a pack of cigarettes, handed one to Jin Xiu, and lit one for himself. Then with his hands thrust into his pockets, he said proudly, So, tell me, what do they say about me?

They say you flew to Shenzhen with only ten yuan in your pocket, Jin Xiu said as he scratched his neck, and that you fell in behind a delegation of Russians. The girls who worked there all thought you were part of the delegation and bowed to you. You responded with Harasho – very good. They say you checked into that fancy hotel with the Russian delegation, that you ate and drank like a king for three days, and that you received a lot of gifts that you turned around and sold on the street, making enough to buy twenty digital watches, which you sold here. You used what you earned to make more money, and it didn’t take long to get rich.

Chen Bi stroked his big nose. Go on, he said, keep the story going.

They say you went to Jinan and roamed the streets until you saw an old fellow wandering aimlessly, and when you asked him why he was crying, he said he’d gone out for a walk and now couldn’t find his way back. You saw him home. The old fellow’s son was the head of the Jinan Supply and Marketing Department, and he rewarded your good deed by declaring himself to be your sworn brother. And that is how you were able to acquire cigarettes wholesale.

Chen had a big laugh over that. Are you writing a novel, young man? he said when he finished laughing. Now I’ll tell you the real story. I’ve flown on aeroplanes many times, and I’ve bought my own ticket for every flight. I do have friends at the Jinan tobacco plant, and they sold me cigarettes at a slim discount, enough for me to make three fen per pack.

No matter what you say, you’re someone who knows how to get things done, my cousin said with heartfelt admiration. My dad wants me to become your apprentice.

The one who really knows how to get things done is right here, Chen Bi said, pointing to Yuan Sai. He’s conversant with heavenly principles and earthly truths. He knows everything that happened five hundred years ago and half of what will happen five hundred years from now. He’s the master you’re looking for.

Elder Brother Yuan is a great man too, my cousin said. He set up his fortune-telling stand back home in the Xia Village marketplace, where we know him as the Little Immortal. When an old hen in my aunt’s house went missing, Elder Brother Yuan curled his fingers and said, Ducks on the river, chickens in the grass. Go see if there’s a grassy nest. Well, that’s exactly where we found it.

He’s not just a diviner, Chen Bi said. He can do lots of things. If he taught you even one of them, you’d have enough to live on for the rest of your life.

Kowtow to the master, Wuguan said.

No, the things I do are appropriate only for someone in the lower walks of society who’s eking out a living. You need to follow your cousin by going into the army and becoming an officer. Or take the college exam and go to school. Those are the paths to a bright future as a leading member of society. Yuan Sai first pointed to himself and then to Chen Bi. We, including him, are not engaged in lines of work that are on the up and up. We do what we do because we have no choice. But you, you’re still young, so don’t follow in our footsteps.

No, my cousin insisted stubbornly, you’re the ones with real skills and abilities. That’s not the case with the army or college.

Good for you, young man. You think for yourself, that’s good. In the future, we can work together, Chen Bi said.

Where’s Wang Gan? I asked Wuguan.

I’ll bet you anything he’s posted himself at the health centre.

That guy’s possessed, Chen Bi said. A team of horses couldn’t pull him away from it.

The problem is his house, Yuan Sai said mysteriously. The front door is in the wrong place, so is the toilet. I told your father-in-law more than a decade ago that he had to make changes to his front door and to move the toilet; if not, someone in his family would go batty. He thought I was putting a curse on him and picked up a whip to use on me. So what happened? What I warned against came true. Every chance he gets he picks up a cane, bends at the waist, and goes to the health centre to put on a shameless act. If that isn’t batty, I’d like to know what is. Wang Gan’s no better, a farmer with petty bourgeois ideas who’s gone gaga over that pimply Little Lion. In other words, batty.

All right, everyone, forget Yuan Sai’s eyewash and come inside, I said. Come inside, all of you.

The feng shui of our commune is no good, either, Yuan Sai said. Since olden days, the yamen, the official residence, has always faced south. But the gate of our commune faces north, and is directly opposite the slaughterhouse, where knives go in clean and come out red all day long, with blood and guts everywhere, and a grisly atmosphere. When I went to complain they accused me of propagating feudal superstitions and barely fell short of locking me up. So what happened? The old Party Secretary Qin Shan suffered a paralytic stroke and his brother, Qin He, has been crazy for years. When Qin’s replacement, Secretary Qiu, took a dozen people down south on an inspection tour, there was a traffic accident that killed or injured every one of them. Feng shui is of vast importance. No matter how unyielding a fate you have, it’s never greater than that of the Emperor, and not even he is immune to the power of feng shui.

Take your seat, I said again as I gave Yuan Sai a tap on the shoulder. Feng shui is important, good master, but so are eating and drinking.

If they don’t do something about the commune main gate, more people will go batty, and more major incidents will occur. You can believe me or not, Yuan Sai said. It’s up to you.