She turned toward the sound and curled her lip, then crossed the room, past the donkey and Shangguan Shouxi, who was massaging the animal’s belly; she walked over to the window and ripped away the paper covering. A dozen rays of golden sunlight lit up the far wall. She then went to the millstone and blew out the lamp, releasing the smell of burned oil to snuff out the other rank odors. Shangguan Shouxi’s dark oily face took on a golden sheen; his tiny black eyes sparkled like burning coals. “Mother,” he said fearfully, “let’s leave. Everybody at Felicity Manor has fled, the Japanese will be here soon…”
Shangguan Lu stared at her son with a look that said, Why can’t you be a man? Avoiding her eyes, he lowered his sweaty face.
“Who told you they’re coming?” Shangguan Lu demanded angrily.
“The steward at Felicity Manor has been firing his gun and sounding the alarm,” Shangguan Shouxi muttered as he wiped his sweaty face with an arm covered with donkey hairs. It was puny alongside the muscular arm of his mother. His lips, which had been quivering like a baby at the tit, grew steady, as his head jerked up. Pricking up his tiny ears to listen for sounds, he said, “Mother, Father, do you hear that?”
The hoarse voice of Sima Ting drifted lazily into the barn. “Elders, mothers, uncles, aunts – brothers, sisters-in- law – brothers and sisters – run for your lives, flee while you can, hide in the fields till the danger passes – the Japanese are on their way – this is not a false alarm, it’s real. Fellow villagers, don’t waste another minute, run, don’t trade your lives for a few broken-down shacks. While you live, the mountains stay green, while you live, the world keeps turning – fellow villagers, run while you can, do not wait until it’s too late…”
Shangguan Shouxi jumped to his feet. “Did you hear that, Mother? Let’s go!”
“Go? Go where?” Shangguan Lu said unhappily. “Of course the people at Felicity Manor have run off. But why should we join them? We are blacksmiths and farmers. We owe no tariff to the emperor or taxes to the nation. We are loyal citizens, whoever is in charge. The Japanese are human, too, aren’t they? They’ve occupied the Northeast, but where would they be without common folk to till the fields and pay the rent? You’re his father, the head of the family, tell me, am I right?”
Shangguan Fulu’s lips parted to reveal two rows of strong, yellow teeth. It was hard to tell if he was smiling or frowning.
“I asked you a question!” she shouted angrily. “What do you gain by showing me those yellow teeth? I can’t get a fart out of you, even with a stone roller!”
With a long face, Shangguan Fulu said, “Why ask me? If you say leave, we leave, if you say stay, we stay.”
Shangguan Lu sighed. “If the signs are good, we’ll be all right. If not, there’s nothing we can do about it. So get to work and push down on her belly!”
Opening and closing his mouth to build up his courage, Shangguan Shouxi asked loudly, but without much confidence, “Has the baby come?”
“Any man worth his salt focuses on what he’s doing,” Shangguan Lu said. “You take care of the donkey, and leave women’s business to me.”
“She’s my wife,” Shangguan Shouxi muttered. “No one says she isn’t.”
“My guess is this time it’s a boy,” Shangguan Shouxi said as he pressed down on the donkey’s belly. “I’ve never seen her that big before.”
“You’re worthless…” Shangguan Lu was losing spirit. “Protect us, Bodhisattva.”
Shangguan Shouxi wanted to say more, but his mother’s sad face sealed his lips.
“You two keep at it here,” Shangguan Fulu said, “while I go see what’s going on out there.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Shangguan Lu demanded as she grabbed her husband’s shoulders and dragged him back to where the donkey lay. “What’s going on out there is none of your business! Just keep massaging the donkey’s belly. The sooner she foals, the better. Dear Bodhisattva, Lord in Heaven. The Shangguan ancestors were men of iron and steel, so how did I wind up with two such worthless specimens?”
Shangguan Fulu bent over, reached out with hands that were as dainty as his son’s, and pressed down on the donkey’s twitching belly. The donkey lay between him and his son; pressing down one after the other, they seemed to be on opposite ends of a teeter-totter. Up and down they went, massaging the animal’s hide. Weak father, weak son, accomplishing little with their soft hands – limp wicks, fluffy cotton, always careless and given to cutting corners. Standing behind them, Shangguan Lu could only shake her head in frustration, before reaching out, grabbing her husband by the neck, and jerking him to his feet. “Go on,” she demanded, “out of my way!” She sent her husband, a blacksmith hardly worthy of the name, reeling into the corner, where he sprawled atop a sack of hay. “And you, get up!” she ordered her son. “You’re just underfoot. You never eat less than your share, and you’re never around when there’s work to be done. Lord in Heaven, what did I do to deserve this?”
Shangguan Shouxi jumped to his feet as if his life had been spared and ran over to join his father in the corner. Their dark little eyes rolled in their sockets, their expressions were a mixture of cunning and stupidity. The silence in the barn was broken once again by the shouts of Sima Ting, setting father and son squirming, as if their bowels or bladders were about to betray them.
Shangguan Lu knelt on the ground in front of the donkey’s belly, oblivious of the filth, a look of solemn concentration on her face. Rolling up her sleeves, she rubbed her hands together, creating a grating noise like scraping the soles of two shoes together. Laying her cheek against the animal’s belly, she listened attentively with her eyes narrowed. Then she stroked the donkey’s face. “Donkey,” she said, “go on, get it over with. It’s the curse of all females.” Then she straddled the donkey’s neck, bent over, and laid her hands on its belly. As if planing a board, she pushed down and out. A pitiful bray tore from the donkey’s mouth and its legs shot out stiffly, four hooves quaking violently, as if beating a violent tattoo on four drums, the jagged rhythm bouncing off the walls. It raised its head, left it suspended in the air for a moment, then brought it crashing back to earth with a moist, sticky thud. “Donkey, endure it a while longer,” she murmured. “Who made us female in the first place? Clench your teeth, push… push harder…” Holding her hands up to her chest to draw strength into them, she took a deep breath, held it, and pushed down slowly, firmly.
The donkey struggled, yellow liquid shot out of its nostrils as its head jerked around and banged on the ground. Down at the other end, amniotic fluid and wet, sticky feces sprayed the area. In their horror, father and son covered their eyes.
“Fellow villagers, the Jap horse soldiers have already set out from the county seat. I’ve heard eyewitness accounts, this is not a false alarm, run for your lives before it’s too late…” Sima Ting’s shouts entered their ears with remarkable clarity.
Shangguan Fulu and his son opened their eyes and saw Shangguan Lu sitting beside the donkey’s head, her own head lowered as she gasped for breath. Her white shirt was soaked with sweat, throwing her solid, hard shoulder blades into prominent relief. Fresh blood pooled between the donkey’s legs as the spindly leg of its foal poked out from the birth canal; it looked unreal, as if someone had stuck it up there as a prank.
Once again, Shangguan Lu laid her twitching cheek against the donkey’s belly and listened. To Shangguan Shouxi, his mother’s face looked like an overripe apricot, a serene golden color. Sima Ting’s persistent shouts floated in the air, like a fly in pursuit of rotting meat, sticking first to the wall, then buzzing over to the donkey’s hide. Pangs of fear struck Shangguan Shouxi’s heart and made his skin crawl; a sense of impending doom wracked him. He lacked the courage to run out of the barn, for a vague sense of foreboding told him that the minute he stepped out the door, he’d fall into the hands of Jap soldiers – those squat little men with short, stubby limbs, noses like cloves of garlic, and bulging eyes, who ate human hearts and livers and drank their victims’ blood. They’d kill and eat him, leaving nothing behind, not even bone scraps. And at this very moment, he knew, they were massing in nearby lanes to get their hands on local women and children, all the while bucking and kicking and snorting like wild horses. He turned to look at his father in hopes of gaining solace. What he saw was an ashen-faced Shangguan Fulu, a blacksmith who was a disgrace to the trade, sitting on a sack of hay, arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked back and forth, his back and head banging against the wall. Shangguan Shouxi’s nose began to ache, he wasn’t sure why, and tears flowed from his eyes.
With a cough, Shangguan Lu slowly raised her head. Stroking the donkey’s face, she sighed. “Donkey, oh donkey,” she said, “what have you done? How could you push its leg out like that? Don’t you know the head has to come out first?” Water spilled from the animal’s lackluster eyes. She dried them with her hand, blew her nose loudly, then turned to her son. “Go get Third Master Fan. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to buy two bottles of liquor and a pig’s head for him, but we’ll just have to spend the money. Go get him!”
Shangguan Shouxi shrank up against the wall in terror, his eyes glued to the door, which led to the lanes
