Chapter 3

GOLD ROOT TOOK BECKON OUT FOR HER TO relieve herself before he put her to bed. Now
that Sister Gold Flower had married and left him alone with the little girl, he had to take care of her himself. He was not yet used to it.
Outside, the cold air was refreshingly astringent in his nostrils. The hill overhead was a firm black bud silhouetted against the pale blue-gray of the moon-washed sky. Gold Root cradled Beckon in his arms, hold-ing her away from his body with his hands under her bent knees so that her fat little bottom hung down. Nothing happened, so he said, "Sh-sh," encouragingly. Actually Beckon was old enough to crouch on the ground, but he thought that the cold air was densest near the earth and was harmful.
The dogs were barking wildly. Lately he had always wondered if it was his wife coming home every time he heard the dogs bark. Still holding up the child, he turned his head toward the road. The orange blob of a lantern came swaying gently up the bend. The large red character on the lantern was of a familiar rectangular shape which he had learned to associate with the word "Chou." So it was somebody from Chou Village. It could not be his sister who had been home for a visit only a few days ago. And it was not likely that she would ever come at this hour.
It was a woman, though, who walked behind the bob-bing lantern, and that was a big white bundle she had slung over her arm. When the lantern swayed toward her face, he saw something about her that made him whirl sharply around so that the child splashed warm urine all over his foot. In no time he had put her down and was racing down the road toward his wife.
He slowed down as soon as he came close enough to know for sure it was she. She smiled in recognition. And he called out, smiling, "At first I thought it was somebody from Chou Village."
"It was getting dark when I reached Chou Village, so I went to Sister's and borrowed their lantern," said Moon Scent.
"Oh, you went to their house? You saw Sister?"
"Yes. Her mother-in-law is too polite. She insisted that I have supper with them. Ai-yah, so embarrassing!"
He walked by her side. One of his socks, soaking wet, was now icy cold and tightly gripping the top of his foot He was grateful for the sensation because it proved that he was not dreaming.
"You saw Brother-in-Law?" he asked.
"He is not well. I did not go into his room because he was lying down."
"Not serious, is it? And how is Sister?"
"She is fine." She did not think it strange that he asked after his sister whom he saw so often instead of inquiring after her, when they had not seen each other for so long. She knew how it was.
"Is Beckon in bed?" she asked conversationally.
He turned and yelled, "Beckon! Beckon!" The child would not come. He had to go and drag her.
"Ai-yah! Grown so big!" Moon Scent laughed with embarrassment. She lowered the lantern to take a better look. Beckon twisted around to avoid the light but Moon Scent only held the lantern closer to her face. The child finally writhed out of her father's grasp and ran madly toward the safety of home. She crossed the courtyard blue-white with moonlight. The long bamboo poles the family used to weave baskets had been left out in front of the house. They made a great hollow clatter when she kicked against them as she passed. At this the dogs barked more fiercely than ever.
"Be careful not to trip in the dark," Moon Scent shouted, hurrying after her. Again the bamboo poles clattered under her blundering feet. They had inherited a room and a half in this old white house which was Gold Root's ancestral home. The rooms next to theirs were occupied by Big Uncle's family. And now Big Aunt called out shrilly from behind the window, "Ai, Gold Root! Is that Sister-in-Law Gold Root coming home?"
"It is I, Big Aunt!" answered Moon Scent. "How are you, Big Aunt? And how is Big Uncle?"
"Hai-yah, I was just talking about you. I said to the old man, `VVhat day is today? How is it-not back yet!'"
The oil lamp moved about behind the papered win-dow and shadows shifted with it. The old man coughed and children woke up crying.
"Don't get up, Big Aunt, if you have already gone to bed," said Moon Scent. "I can come and pay my respects to you tomorrow morning. How is Sister-in-Law Gold Have Got?"
"I am fine, Sister-in-Law Gold Root," replied the daughter-in-law of the family.
"We are still up. And I was just talking about you," shrieked Big Aunt as she unbolted the door and waddled out on her bound feet. The old man also appeared, carrying his warming basket which held a few pieces of live charcoal buried under white ashes. It warmed the hands and feet very cheaply.
"Ging-lai tzau! Come in and sit down," urged Moon Scent.
So they all went into Gold Root's room. Sister-in-Law Gold Have Got also came. There were not enough seats for all but Big Aunt forced Moon Scent to sit beside her on the bed. "Hay-yah, Sister-in-Law Gold Root," she sighed, half-laughing, "I was saying all the time, Why so hardhearted—gone for three years and never returning even once!' Here the child is so big already!" She pulled Beckon, who was hiding behind the blue-and-white cot-ton bed curtains. With averted face the child clung des-perately to the bedpost.
"Say Ma," prompted Big Aunt.
"Ma!" said Sister-in-Law Gold Have Got. "Say Ma, Beckon."
The old woman slapped the child on her behind and said accusingly, "See how big she has grown," as if she had done some mischief.
Gold Root stood awkwardly by himself in the shadows. The feeling returned to him that he had dreamed of this before, the scene of her homecoming, with those familiar faces crowded around in the dim yellow lamp-light. Sometimes he seemed to be in it, sometimes not, as when he could not make himself heard amid the talk and laughter.
Big Uncle sat smiling and poking at the ashes in his warming basket with a pair of bamboo chopsticks. Primly gazing at a spot one foot above Moon Scent's head, he addressed a remark to her. "When did the row-boat arrive in town?"
"About noon."
After walking the forty li from town one should at least have a drink of water, thought Gold Root. He went to the stove. The fire was out but there was still some warm water left in the kettle, enough for a bowl. But returning with the bowl of water he stood confused before the roomful of people. He could not very well go up to his wife and offer her water, making her the sole object of his attention. With some awkwardness he went up to Big Uncle and handed him the bowl. Everybody laughed. Big Aunt snatched the bowl and passed it on to Moon Scent, forcing her to take it.
"See how attentive your Gold Root is!" she said.
They were all convulsed. Even Sister-in-Law Gold Have Got, who always looked unhappy, joined in the merriment. She had a long, bony face with straight slit eyes and she had a sad life. She had to do a lot of social smiling but her smiles always seemed dour and reluctant. And when she really opened up with heartfelt laughter, as she did now, somehow her face had a cynical look that was untrue and upsetting.
"They have always been a loving couple," Big. Aunt guffawed. "All the time together-just like they were wearing one pair of pants. Ai-yah, it is a sin to keep them apart all these years."
"Look at this Big Aunt," complained Moon Scent. "I see her for the first time in years and she starts at once to talk nonsense."
"All right, all right-find me tiresome, eh? Let us go, old man; do not outstay our welcome. Let the two of them have a heart-to-heart talk."
"What have we got to talk about, an old couple like us, with the child so big already?" Moon Scent tussled with her to make her stay. But Big Aunt was coy. "Let us go, old man, do not make a nuisance of ourselves," she kept saying.
Laughing politely at the familiar joke, Gold Root helped to detain the guests, who finally let themselves be overpowered and pinned down to their seats. The teasing and joking went on. Almost like on his wedding night, when they made fun of the bride and groom, thought Gold Root. And his wife did look like a bride sitting on the bed, her head slightly bent under the part-ing of the bed curtains. Her beautiful eyes and eyebrows had a painted look and her face was a glowing silvery white, a bit broad at the base and low in the forehead. She made him think of some obscure goddess in a broken-down little temple. He remembered seeing an idol like that sitting daintily behind the tattered and begrimed yellow curtains in a neglected shrine. She was so beauti-ful that it was difficult for him to remember that she was his wife and at times he had beaten her when he got drunk or lost money gambling.
Moon Scent brought up the subject of the weather. She seemed anxious to talk about something else, thought Gold Root. Perhaps she did not want to be teased any more about him, he thought with a sudden pang.
"It has not snowed once this winter," remarked Moon Scent. "How is it in the country?"
"The rainfall this year was very good," said Big Aunt. "Has it snowed yet?"
"According to the almanac the time has not yet come for snow.p,
"It won't be good if it snows after li chuen, the first day of spring. And li chuen comes early this year," said Moon Scent.
Big Uncle said querulously, after a short, uneasy silence. "It is bound to snow within a few days, my bones ache so.
Big Aunt said loudly, "Next year's crop is sure to be good; we have had plenty of rainfall."
"Far too much," thought Moon Scent, but she held her tongue. She could not understand the way they rushed to the defense of the weather as if it was their own son. She had been brought up in the tradition of pessimism. Whether it was out of fear of jealous gods or self-defense against the endless exploitation of landlords and governments and their agents, the country people never opened their mouths but to complain about the weather and crops, even among themselves. It had be-come second nature.
And now they were loudly praising this year's crops.
32

To her unaccustomed ears it sounded foolish and immod-est, in shocking bad taste.
Big Aunt heaved a loud sigh and sang out, "Ai-yah, it is fine now in the country! The poor have turned! Old Heaven also helped-the harvest has never been so good! You have come back just a step too late, Sister-in-Law Gold Root, or you would have seen your Gold Root being made a Labor Model. Sitting on the platform, a big red flower on his chest-no son of our family has been hon-ored like this! The comrade of the district government pinned on the flower with his own hands!"
Her practical nature would have kept Moon Scent from thinking much of such honors had they been bestowed on somebody else. As it was, she felt thrilled and proud. She glanced at Gold Root. He was being properly modest-, pretending that his attention was wan-dering in a conversation which had grown tedious.
"It is not as if I am only praising him now," chanted Big Aunt. "I have always said to our old man, I said, 'To be frank with you, among all you T'ans, the only boy who shows promise is Gold Root.' "
Moon Scent said, smiling, "It is only Big Aunt who makes it sound so fine." She questioned them about the division of land. Then they told her how every piece of the landlord's furniture, all his clothes, all his household utensils had been numbered so everybody could draw lots for them. Big Uncle's family got a vase and a girl's silk gown, and Gold Root a big mirror.
'Where is the mirror?" Moon Scent looked around the room.
"It went with Sister's dowry," replied Gold Root. "You had a fine mirror, a mirror of the highest quality, Sister-in-Law Gold Root—" began Big Aunt. But at the mention of that mirror, the usually timid Sister-in-Law Gold Have Got was so beyond herself with enthusiasm that she would not even let her mother-in-law finish a sentence.
"Ah, it was really elegant, Sister-in-Law Gold Root," she exclaimed. "Blackwood borders an inch wide, carved with a swastika design. It was easily two feet high—"
"More than that, much more," said Big Aunt.
"And with red and green streamers tied on to its corners on the day the dowry was sent over—beauti-ful!"
Poking his fire with chopsticks, the old man pointed them at Moon Scent. "You people drew the best of the lot."
"Yes, everybody said you were the luckiest," said Big Aunt.
Gold Root asked his wife, "'Why, didn't you see it when you dropped in at Sister's just now?"
"I did not go into Sister's room because Brother-in-Law was ill in bed," Moon Scent said, smiling.
"Be sure to go and see it someday," urged Sister-in-Law Gold Have Got.
She had not even set eyes on it and Gold Root had al-ready given it to his sister. Of course, if she had been consulted, she would never have said no, but she should have been consulted. She went on smiling but she was very displeased and felt less and less inclined to talk.
In time Big Aunt noticed her silence. "This time we are really going." She stood up, grinning. "If we stay on longer we'll be cursed behind our backs."
"What kind of talk is this, Big Aunt? Sit for a while longer," said Moon Scent, pulling at her ann.
"No, really! You must be tired. Go to bed early. Ai-yah, at last the young couple is reunited. Not easy! Like those two stars that meet once a year across the Milky Way—the Cowherd and the Weaving Lady."
The guests filed out amid a fresh burst of laughter When all efforts to detain them had failed, the hosts saw them to the door. The light was burning low. Instead of adding more oil to the lamp, Gold Root took the stub of red candle out of the lantern, lit it, and stuck it on to a cracked blue-rimmed plate. It was an extravagance but he liked red candles for wedding nights.
When she had bolted the door, Moon Scent turned and said to him in a low voice, "I wanted to ask you all this time but I could not, in front of all those people. How is it that the harvest is so good and in Sister's house they were only eating jho, rice gruel?"
Gold Root did not say anything as he busied himself with the candle.
"The Chous seem to be so hard up," said Moon Scent. "We have been taken in by the matchmakers."
Gold Root laughed impatiently. "What do you mean-taken in by matchmakers! It is the same with every fam-ily. We've also been eating jho."
Moon Scent was amazed. "But why? With the harvest so good we do not even have rice to eat?"
He jerked his head sharply toward the window. With-out lifting his arm he motioned to her to be silent. But she went straight to the window before he could stop her and pushed it open. At that same instant the bamboo poles made a fearful clatter in the courtyard and all the dogs started barking, far and near. The moonlight had moved up the white wall, leaving the courtyard entirely in shadows. She leaned out and scanned the ground closely. There was nobody.
"Who was it?" she whispered after she shut the window.
He tried to sound casual. "There are always those loafers who have nothing to do and like to listen under other people's windows."
She knew people used to do that for an evening's enter-tainment. Life was dull in the village. But she looked at him and said, "Then what is there to be frightened of? What have I said that is wrong?"
He seemed harassed. "Talk about it later, will you? In bed."
She stared at him. Then she went slowly to unpack her bundle. She took out the pair of socks and pack of cigarettes which she had bought for him in Shanghai. Knowing him, she had on purpose chosen things which he could not give to his sister. For Gold Flower she brought a face towel and a piece of scented soap. These she had already presented to her when she passed Chou Village.
She brought almond shortcakes for Beckon, but she herself was hungry now from her long walk. She opened the oil-stained newspaper package.
"Beckon, you address me by name," she said to the little girl, "otherwise you won't get any."
The cakes were crumbly round slabs of an old-gold color. Beckon surveyed them with opaque black eyes. "Call me Ma. just once."
It was torture, but Beckon was powerless before the silence that walled her in and was growing greater and more insurmountable with the passage of every minute.
It ended with Moon Scent saying, "All right, all right, don't cry. You cry and I won't like you any more."
They both ate, and she passed one to Gold Root.
"You eat," he said.
"I brought them for you people."
"Save them for Beckon."
"You eat. There are plenty."
He took it very reluctantly and ate with great re-straint. In the candlelight she saw that his hand that held the cake was trembling. There was a moment of absolute stillness in her mind, followed by a rush of anger and tenderness. What had the world done to him in her absence?
Beckon finished her cake. Nothing but a lingering fear of the stranger could have made her agree to leave the rest for tomorrow. As she undressed her daughter for bed, Moon Scent murmured, "Ai-yah, look at this padded jacket, so torn and not mended! Heavens, so dirty! And look at those buttons! Not a single good one!" Her mut-terings were really directed against her husband's sister who was naturally in charge of such things during her absence. But the child took it personally. Tears welled up in her eyes and her quivering lips fell open.
"Crying again?" Moon Scent asked in surprise. "VVhat is it now?" She pressed her face against Beckon's wet cheeks. "Hm? What is it? Tell Ma."
Beckon did not answer. Moon Scent lifted her onto the bed and removed her padded shoes. "Isn't it cold? Pop into the folded blanket-quick! Tell Ma why you are crying. Still thinking of those cakes? Then sleep early so you can get up early tomorrow and eat them."
Moon Scent sat on the edge of the bed, spreading Beckon's clothes on top of the blanket. Gold Root came and sat down beside her. He fingered the corner of her jacket where the slits were and felt the material. It was cotton with small mauve and gray checks and streaks of red. He smiled slightly. It was difficult to tell whether he thought it too fancy or too expensive, or whether he was at all disapproving, though he seemed to be.
He warmed his hand under the skirt of her jacket. She squirmed. "I die of cold!"
"Cold? Go to bed then."
He leaned closer and she put up a hand and passed it slowly oyer his head. Her hand was rough; it rustled against the bristles on his shaved skull.
She whispered, "Everybody said it is good in the coun-try, good in the country, good in the country. The cities are poor now and people cannot afford servants, but they do not allow employers to dismiss servants. So my em-ployer was always telling me, 'It is good now in the country. If I were you I would go home and work on the land.' Now I realize I have been fooled."
She is sorry she came back, thought Gold Root. She just came home and here she regrets it already. Being together did not mean to her what it did to him. He spoke slowly, with a half-smile, "Yes, just now the times are difficult in the country. Otherwise, I would have asked you to come home long ago. I wonder if you can get used to it."
"Get used to it!" Her voice rose in sudden anger. "You think I had an easy life in the city?" She looked at him. Didn't he have any idea of what it was like in Shanghai?
He was silent. She could have said more but it was, after all, her first day home. She bent down and picked up one of Beckon's padded shoes and dusted it a little, turning it over and over in her hands, scrutinizing it in the candlelight.
"Did Sister make these?" she asked critically.
"No, her maternal grandmother made them for her."
"Oh." She thought with satisfaction, "No wonder. This doesn't look like his sister's work." Aloud she said, "My mother's eyesight is still not bad then, to be able to sew like this. I am going home tomorrow to see my mother."
"Better not overdo it-to go there and come back it would be another thirty /i."
Beckon suddenly called out. "Pa, I also want to go." "Aren't you asleep yet?" said Gold Root.
Moon Scent bent down to straighten her blanket and smell her cheek. "Go to sleep quick. If you don't behave I won't take you along."
But for a long time Beckon could not sleep, excited by the dynamic presence of the cakes in the room.
Moon Scent made her hands into fists and beat her aching knees lightly. "I suppose I am not used to walking long distances. All out of practice now."
He laughed happily, glad of an opportunity to scoff at her. "And you say you are going to your mother's to-morrow! I know you are no use."
She started to unbutton her jacket when she sud-denly remembered to take the money out of her pocket and count it. He would have liked to know how much she had left, but she did not say anything and he did not want to ask. There could not be much since she sent money home every month regularly to help him out. Again he felt the prick of shame.
She took a long time counting, as if the sum did not come right. He did not like to watch her. He stood up abruptly and walked away to the trunks conventionally stacked at one side of the bed.
She looked up. "What are you opening the trunk for, at this hour?"
Silently he produced a large sheet of paper, smoothed it out on the table, and looked down at it, patiently wait-ing for her to finish with her money. Then he laid the land deeds before her and said, quietly smiling, "You look."
They were beautifully handwritten, marked with the biggest chops and seals. He knew the numerical charac-ters and he pointed out to her where his name was. They pored over it, their heads bent close together in the pool of light.
She was very happy. He explained, "This is our land, our own land now. Right now things are bad because there is a war on. When the war is over it will be all right. The hard times will pass. And the land is always there."
Sitting thus with his arms holding her snugly under her padded jacket, it was easy for her to visualize the future that stretched out generations ahead like endless rice paddies in the sun, and one was possessed of infinite patience.
But she felt she had to make an effort to disengage his arms. "Beckon is not asleep yet," she said.
She is asleep."
"Just now she was talking."
"She is asleep." Then he said, "You were not so afraid of her before."
"She was tiny then."
He was looking at a black spot on the back of her neck. Then he touched it. "I thought it was a bedbug," he said.
"There were many bedbugs on the rowboat." "It is a mole. Hey, when did you get this mole?"
"How should I know? I have no eyes in the back."
"You never had it before."
"I could have grown one in three years, could I not?"
He laughed shyly. "Yes, it has been three years."
All that was left of the candle on the cracked plate were some drippings-waxy petals of a little red plum blossom. A long, thin flame came out of the heart of the flower and rose high and wavering in the air.
Beckon was dreaming of eating almond cakes at her grandmother's house. Her father and her Aunt Gold Flower were there, and many others. But her mother was as yet too much of a stranger to enter her dreams.