Chapter 14

ON THEIR WAY TO TOWN TO REPORT TO THE district headquarters, the militiamen stopped at Chou Village with a message for the kan pu. Then the kan pu went round the village telling everybody to t'i kao chin heighten their vigilance, and report at once if they saw any suspicious characters around. A number of fan ke min, anti-revolutionists, had escaped and might have come in this direction.
That was all he said, but soon the word leaked out that there had been a disturbance over at T'an Village. Gold Flower felt concerned at the news. She wondered what had happened and if any of her folks were affected. At twilight she went out to fetch water. Balancing the flat-pole on her shoulder, she walked absently down the flight of stone steps that led to the stream, her eyes fixed all the while on the opposite bank where her native village lay. With a slight tilt of one shoulder she lowered a pail into the stream and with a quiet twist of her body hoisted it back up again full. The darkening sky closed softly upon the darker hills and groves. Only the water was pale and bright, a broad band of shimmering gray.
A pebble hit her on the back.
"Little devil," she muttered without turning. In the village she was still referred to as The Bride, and chil-dren often followed her about, teasing her.
Another stone, glancing off her shoulder, fell splash-ing into the stream. The other pail filled, she slipped the pole off her shoulders and turned, hands on hips, to face the offender. There was nobody in sight.
"Sister! Sister Gold Flower!" someone called softly.
She jerked up her head. In no time she was up the slope, with the help of the flat-pole. In the bamboo grove she stood face to face with her sister-in-law, who looked like a ghost, clad only in a white shirt on top of her padded pants, with her hair disheveled and fuzzed out from her face.
"What's happened?" stammered Gold Flower.
When Moon Scent started to speak, her teeth chat-tered so much from the cold that she began to stammer, too, which annoyed her because it made her seem so frightened.
"Where is your padded jacket?" asked Gold Flower. "Gold Root has it. He is weak from bleeding, so I made him put it over his shoulders."
'What's happened to him?" cried Gold Flower. "He's all right," said Moon Scent, strangely defensive "They started shooting and he is hurt in the leg. It could have been much worse."
"Where is he now?"
"Farther up in the hill."
"Take me to see him."
Moon Scent hesitated. "You can't leave those pails down there. What if somebody comes and sees them?"
"But why did they shoot at him?" pressed Gold Flower.
"There was some trouble at the warehouse. People in the village wanted to borrow some rice for the New Year. And they started shooting." She added quickly, almost lightly, looking at Gold Flower with a bright expression, "Beckon is dead. Trampled to death."
"What?" Gold Flower said in an uncertain voice.
"We didn't believe it either. We took her with us all the way up the hill. But she is dead."
She told her about the shooting and how, as soon as she struggled free from the pressure of the stampeding mob, she had turned back toward the storehouse to look for Beckon. As she fought through the oncominc, crowd, knocked off balance again and again, somebody seized her by the wrist and dragged her off in a fast run. It was Gold Root with Beckon slung over one shoulder. As they sped through the crackle of shots and bullets whin-ing shrilly past them, she was conscious of her body as never before, feeling naked and vulnerable all over. But it could not be really serious, she felt, when they were running hand in hand like children in a game.
When he fell face downward she thought at first it was to take cover. Then, when she realized that he was wounded, she took Beckon's little body away from him and helped him up, making him lean on her. "We are almost home," she had said encouragingly.
"No, we are not going home," he had said. "We can't go home. We'll go somewhere else and hide for a few days; wait till the thing blows over."
She thought of going to her mother's place but that was too far, he wouldn't be able to make it. So they decided on Chou Village. They took a short cut through the hills because there was less chance of being seen.
It was one of those cold, sunless afternoons when the trees on the hill stood straight with their long white toes set wide apart on the ground, as if they were about to step down the hillside and walk right into the village, because it was too dreary up there. The hills rose in tiers, like steps cut out for their use. Moon Scent labored over those steps that were too high for men, dragging Gold Root after her. She had known for a long time that the limp, crushed child in her arms was dead. In the end, sheer exhaustion forced her to abandon her and there was no time for grief. They hid the small corpse at the base of one of the trees, hoping that no one would find it until they were farther away.
It was not till the end of the journey, when they had to cross the bridge, that she was truly afraid. It was nearing twilight. The narrow footbridge stood on high stilts black against the silvery pallor of the stream. In winter, when the water was low, the wobbly stilts rose to about thirty feet above water. Somehow she maneu-vered Gold Root's unpredictably lurching weight across the twin line of long boards that felt soft and yielding under the feet. It felt awful to be cushioned all round with the infinite softness of empty air. And the broad expanse of water underneath was pale and withdrawn, falling far away from them.
She was glad now to have somebody to tell it to, all the extraordinary things that happened during the day. But when she had finished her story, she could see that Gold Flower did not really understand, in spite of the dutifully assumed expression of shock and indignation on her face. The experience stood between them like a wall. They looked dumbly into each other's gray faces in the growing darkness, with the icy breath of the whispering bamboos blowing down their necks.
"So it's you people they are after," Gold Flower said in sudden realization. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They said fan ke'-min."
"Fan ke-minl" exclaimed Moon Scent. "How can we be fan ke-min?" But even as she protested she began to feel uncertain about the meaning of "reactionary," which had not been clear to her to begin with.
"We'll have to go away from here. We'll go to Shanghai. In Shanghai we can hide," she said with a note of finality. "But not just now—he can't even walk. He'll have to stay in your house for a few days."
Gold Flower's front teeth glistened faintly between parted lips in the dark. With an effort she closed her mouth to swallow. "But where can we hide him? My sisters-in-law and their children, they are all over the place."
"There must be some way to keep them out of your room."
"Not the children. They're running in and out all the time."
Moon Scent became silent, but not for long. "I know," she said. "You can say you've had a miscarriage and they will say your room is unclean and they won't come near it for months. And depend on them, they'll keep the children away."
"But they know I'm not pregnant."
"You were too shy to tell anybody," said Moon Scent.
Gold Flower could see that it was a workable scheme. There seemed to be no way out. This terrible thing that had happened was now intruding on her everyday world. She had duties there. She took it seriously, her new status as wife and daughter-in-law. She had to be careful with everything she did, or she would not be able to hold up her head in front of the ever-watchful enemies who were her sisters-in-law. She had left childhood far behind. And so had her brother, judging from the way he behaved that day when she came home to borrow money. He had outgrown his attachment to her.
She thought of many things as she slid a hand heavily up and down the long green arm of a bamboo. All she felt was its cold, smooth length and the knots that were loop bracelets on the arm.
"Sister Gold Flower," Moon Scent said gently, reach-ing for her hand, "I know it's hard for you. But your brother will die of cold if he stays outdoors all night. He'll die."
"But don't you see, it's dangerous for him to come into the village," said Gold Flower, flushed and resentful. "There's sure to be watchers."
"It's dark now. He'll lean on you and you can pretend it's Brother-in-Law coming home drunk.
Gold Flower stiffened at the mention of her husband. "No use saying it's him," she said in a hard voice. "He's been home all day. Everybody knows."
"Get him to come and fetch your brother then. Yes, it's better that he comes instead of you. The dogs know him well and they won't bark so much. Tell him to bring a padded blanket. Cover up your brother from head to foot and say it's you. He has just fished you out of the stream. You have jumped in because you heard your fam-ily were all killed in the riot."
Gold Flower just stared at her dismally, not saying anything.
"Yes, that's much better," Moon Scent said upon reflection. "Nobody will fiddle with the blanket when it's supposed to be a young woman inside. Otherwise, they might want to have a look."
There was a short silence before Gold Flower said, "No, it won't do. He is sure to tell his mother."
"No, you mustn't let him tell anybody."
"I can't stop him. He'll be afraid. They will take him for a fan ké-min, if he is caught," she said miserably.
Moon Scent gave her a little push and whispered, "You talk to him, foolish girl. Talk to him nicely. A bride of two months, you can make him do anything."
"Foolish girl," indeed, Gold Flower thought bitterly. Her sister-in-law certainly took her to be a fool, to make her do this to her own husband—virtually luring him to his death. Did Moon Scent realize at all what she was asking of her? Perhaps she did not know what it was like to love one's husband. That Moon Scent had always been a hard and calculating woman.
Her brother himself would never have asked her to do a thing like that. He would understand. The memory of how good he had been to her suddenly flooded over her. And she remembered all that they had meant to each other throughout the years. She felt desolate, as if they were again left with nobody to turn to except each other.
There was no helping it-she had to do all she could for him. She jerked her hand away from Moon Scent's grasp and quickly turned to go, saying, "You wait here."
Moon Scent came a step after her, then stopped. "Sister Gold Flower," she said nervously.
Gold Flower flushed with shame at the thought that Moon Scent must think she was running away. "Don't worry," she said without turning, "I won't be long."
"Remember to have Brother-in-Law bring a padded blanket," said Moon Scent. "Here, you forgot your flat-pole." She hurried after her, bending down the slope to pass her the flat-pole.
was only afraid for Brother," Gold Flower said in a low voice, not looking at her.
After she was gone Moon Scent retreated to an upper ledge where the brush was denser. She was not at all sure of Gold Flower. "Now he'll find out-he who is so fond of his sister," she thought bitterly. "He'll see that the old saying is right. 'A daughter married off is water poured off'-and she won't come back. She might come home weeping and complain about her in-laws. But in times like this she thinks first about her husband's family."
She wondered if they should have risked the dogs and sneaked into the village by themselves. Once Gold Root was inside the house, they would have more of a hold over the Chous. The Chous would realize that they were involved already and they would have to help keep the secret, out of fear.
She hugged herself tight in the icy wind. Myriads of tongue-like bamboo leaves were making that dry, eerie hush-hush noise that was the most chilling sound on earth. It was hard to stand still in this cold, but she was afraid to walk about or stamp her feet to keep warm.
Lights dotted the village. On the other side, the vast gray plain lay stretched out in the evening haze. Its silence was full of small, muffled rustlings like the sound of a man sniffing and turning inside a padded blanket, kept awake by the cold.
The first time Moon Scent ever came to this village was when the match was being made between Gold Flower and the Chou boy. The Chous had taken special notice of Gold Flower in the crowd during the annual parade of the gods. But the T'ans had never seen the boy and it was arranged that they should come to Chou Village one day while he was at work in the fields. They took Gold Flower along and urged her to have a good look, but she had perversely turned her head away when they passed the rice paddies. And vet later, during dis-cussions, when somebody remarked on the boy's good looks, she had said scornfully, "Looks so sissy with the earrings." It was a standing joke in the family, how she could have seen without looking. The Chou boy's parents had been afraid to lose him as a baby, so they had had his ears pierced and made him wear silver earrings like a girl to deceive the jealous gods.
They had come to Chou Village that day on the pre-text of going to town to sell their lamb and chickens at the fair. To increase its weight, the lamb had been stuffed with food before they set out. Its incredibly swollen belly, hard as a big ball of rock, hung low and swung with every step. But that did not stop it from prancing happily ahead of them. The chickens and ducks were in one basket dangling from the flat-pole on Gold Root's shoulder. The basket at the other end held Beckon, who was a baby then and could not be left alone at home. Leaning forward, with both hands holding on to the edge of the basket, she looked out at the world with her bright, fixed gaze.
Moon Scent sobbed at the recollection, trying to be as quiet as she could about it. The fit of weeping finally passed. She could tell by the night noises and the dwin-dling lights in the village that it was getting late. Her first uneasiness about Gold Flower had turned to fem.
It was now almost pitch dark. With a start she per-ceived a moving figure outlined against the shimmer of the water down below. From the little hard knot of hair at the back of the head she could tell a moment later that it was an elderly woman. With a sinking heart she realized it was Gold Flower's mother-in-law, coming in her direction without a lantern.
Gold Flower must have let out the secret, by accident or on purpose.
"The cheap slave girl!" Moon Scent swore under her breath. "The putrid, dead slave girl!"
She took some time to decide whether it would be wise to reveal herself.
There was a rustling in the blackness below. "Sister-in-Law Gold Root," the woman whispered. "Sister-in-Law Gold Root."
"Ta-niung, Aunt, save us," Moon Scent whispered back, materializing at her side.
"Ai-yah, Sister-in-Law Gold Root," the woman ex-claimed warmly, groping for her hands. "A good thing I heard about this in time! You know Gold Flower is a mere child. And that son of mine-the two of them are just a pair of children. If you depended on them to help you it would be disastrous."
Moon Scent understood that she was being repri-manded for daring to go behind her back. "We were des-perate, Ta-niung," she murmured. "We have nobody to turn to. I am so glad you came. I have always known you have a kind heart."
"Lucky I found out in time," the woman repeated, "or it would be all up with you. Our place is so small and crowded and there are many people in the family. 'A bottle's mouth can be stoppered. But not human mouths.'
"Don't blame it on the others. You yourself would be the first to report us," thought Moon Scent.
"You know even ordinarily we have to report at once if a relative stays overnight. And now—you can imagine how dangerous it would be, when they have just been in to warn us. At the word fan ke-min, who is not afraid?"
"But we are nothing of the sort, Ta-niung—we haven't done anything."
She brushed aside Moon Scent's protests. "Yes, and they told us, 'If you know where they are and do not speak out, you are accomplices. And you'll be tied up with ropes and sent up to the district headquarters. Why, it is worse than harboring runaway landlords!"
Again Moon Scent tried to explain but she would not listen. "Now that it has come to this, the only thing that can save you is to go to town and take the boat there. A good thing you are well-traveled and know the way to the city.' She pushed a small bundle into Moon Scent's hand. "Here, I brought you some food. I must go now. I dare not stay long—it would be dangerous for you as well as for us.11
Moon Scent clutched at her sleeves. "Ta-niung, I kneel to you." She sank to her knees sobbing, overcome by despair and her humiliation before this hateful woman.
"No, no, Sister-in-Law Gold Root, don't do that!" The lder woman tried to lift her to her feet and, failing that, also knelt down. By returning the obeisance she showed that she did not accept it and so was not put under an ob-ligation by the other's humility. "Don't think I don't want to help you. It is all for your own good. Go-as fast as you can. It's not safe around here. All our neighbors have been alerted."
"He cannot walk, Ta-niung. Perhaps we can hide in the hills for a few days, if Ta-niung can tell Gold Flower to send us some food now and then."
The woman said sharply, "How can you spend the night outdoors in this freezing weather? And at daytime you might be seen by woodcutters."
"We can go higher up in the hills."
"Higher up there are wolves." She heaved herself to her feet with difficulty, trying to wrench herself free of Moon Scent's hand. 'No use your pestering me. Start to town right now, while it is dark."
Moon Scent sobbed aloud, hanging on to the woman's clothes. "How can we go to town with him bleeding like this? How can we get past the sentry at the boat land-ing?"
"Better go while you can, Sister-in-Law Gold Root," the woman said meaningfully. "I did not want to tell you this, but-go quickly. I am not sure that one of my sons hasn't already reported you."
She broke away, and was gone.
Moon Scent believed her last words were merely a threat to hurry them along. However, one never knew.
She labored uphill, hugging the parcel of foodstuff close to her body as if it warmed her. And the thought that she was a bringer of food as well as bad news was a ray of warmth in the midst of her desolation. Every thing looked different in the dark. She had difficulty finding that place where she had left Gold Root propped up against a tree. At first she thought it was that tall tree over there but she must have been mistaken. The way always seemed longer when it was unfamiliar, she reminded herself, especially in a hostile country where every step was dangerous.
But as she walked on the feeling grew on her that she had already passed the spot. With mounting panic she turned back to explore the region more carefully. Where was he? She had been a long time. Had they got him? Or-and she clutched at this idea-had he seen or heard something that frightened him and had hidden himself somewhere?
"Where are you?" she whispered, groping around. "Beckon 's dad, where are you?"
The open spaces closed around her. Her throat, swollen from so much whispering, hurt as if it had a thick iron ring clamped on it.
Wolves! The smell of blood must have lured them down the hill. As a rule they never ventured as far down as this but they might, in times like this. Quite irrationally she assumed that the wolves, like human beings, were suffering from the man-made famine.
But then she reasoned with a horrible practicality that if it was the wolves they would have left something, shoes, or a hand. They were not so neat in their habits. She searched everywhere in the vicinity. Then she found herself looking down at a tree on the bank of the stream. There was something odd about that small tree outlined against the gray pallor of the water. What seemed to be a large bird's nest nestling in its forked branches was too big, and far too low.
She scrambled down the slope. With numb, icy hands she reached for the bundle on the tree. It was his padded jacket with the sleeves tied together to make a neat bundle. Wrapped carefully inside was her padded jacket. In a moment she understood as well as if he had spoken to her.
The pale, luminous stream washed past at her feet. He had taken with him his padded pants which were torn and bloodstained and past saving. But his jacket, though old, was still serviceable, so he left it to her.
He wanted her to have a fair chance of getting away. He must have known that his wound was more serious than she was willing to admit. He never said anything about it. But now that she thought back, just before she left him under that tree, when she straightened up after seeing that he was comfortably settled, she had felt his fingers close around her ankle with what seemed then to be a childish impulsiveness, and he had held on to her as if he did not want her to go. She realized now that that was his moment of indecision. The feel of his fingers around her ankle was so real and solid, the moment was so close at hand and yet forever out of reach, it drove her nearly frantic.
After a long time she finally bestirred herself, put on her jacket and buttoned it up. His jacket she wrapped around her loosely with the sleeves tied under her chin. Gone thin and hard with wear, the padded jacket stood up stiffly about her ears. She rubbed her face on it.
Slowly at first, then with quickened pace, she set out for home.