“A six-month debt is quickly repaid,” Sima said. “But Brother Lu, you’ve demanded too much interest.”
“I am deeply pained over the tragic loss of your wife. But that is the nature of revolutions. When cutting out a tumor, some good cells must be sacrificed. But that cannot stop us from cutting out the tumor. I hope this is something you can understand.”
“Don’t waste your spittle,” Sima Ku said. “You may kill me now!”
“Nothing so simple is planned for you.”
“Then you’ll forgive me if I take matters into my own hands.”
He reached in and pulled out a silver-plated pistol, cocked the hammer, and turned to Mother. “I’m doing this to avenge your loss,” he said as he put the pistol to his head.
Lu Liren roared with laughter. “So you’re a coward, after all! Go ahead, kill yourself, you pathetic worm!”
Sima Ku’s hand began to shake.
“Daddy!” It was Sima Liang.
Sima Ku turned to look at his son. Slowly his hand dropped to his side. He let out a self-mocking laugh and handed the pistol to Lu Liren. “Here, you take this.”
Lu Liren took the pistol and hefted it in his hand. “This is a woman’s toy,” he said as he flipped it disdainfully to one of the men behind him, and then stomped his water-soaked, muddy feet on the ground. “Actually, once you handed over the weapon, your fate was no longer in my hands. My superiors will choose where you wind up – in Heaven or in Hell.”
With a shake of his head, Sima Ku said, “I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong, Commander Lu. There is no seat reserved for me in either Heaven or Hell. My seat exists between those two places, and when it’s all over and done with, you will be in the same boat as me.”
Lu Liren turned to the men beside him. “Take them away.”
Guards moved up, nudged Sima Ku and Babbitt with their rifles, and said, “Get moving!”
“Let’s go,” Sima Ku said to Babbitt. “They can kill me a hundred times, but they won’t touch a hair on your head.”
Still holding Sixth Sister up, Babbitt walked up to Sima Ku.
“Mrs. Babbitt can stay behind,” Lu Liren said.
“Commander Lu,” Sixth Sister said, “I ask you to spare the two of us as a reward for helping Mother raise Lu Shengli.”
Pushing up his glasses, with their broken rim, he said to Mother, “You talk some sense into her.”
Mother shook her head and sat down on her haunches. “Give me a hand, children,” she said to Sima Liang and me.
So Sima Liang and I hoisted Zhaodi’s body up on Mother’s back.
With her daughter on her back, Mother headed down the muddy road home, barefoot, with Sima Liang and me beside her, each holding up one of Zhaodi’s stiffening legs to ease Mother’s burden. The deep footprints she made in the muddy road with her crippled, once-bound feet were still discernible months later.
6
The Flood Dragon River had reached flood stage; by looking out the window from my bed, I could see murky yellow water roaring along at the crest of the dike. A detachment of soldiers stood atop the dike gazing at the river as they engaged in a loud discussion.
Out in the yard Mother was making flatcakes on a griddle, while Zaohua kept the fire going. Because the firewood was still wet, the flames burned dark yellow and filled the air with dense black smoke. The sun’s rays were muted.
Sima Liang came inside, bringing with him the acrid smell of scholar tree. “They’re planning to take my dad plus Sixth Aunt and her husband back to military headquarters,” he said in a low voice. “Third Aunt’s husband and the others are making a raft to sail downriver.”
“Liang,” Mother called out from outside. “Go down to the river with your uncle and aunt and keep the others there. Tell them I want to see them off.”
The river flowed fast and dirty, carrying grain stalks, yam vines, dead animals, even – out in the deepest part – entire uprooted trees. The Flood Dragon River Bridge, three pylons of which Sima Ku had burned down, had disappeared under the raging water, its existence signaled only by swirling eddies and the loud crashing of waves. Scrub brush on both sides of the river had also disappeared, though every once in a while a branch poked through the surface, green leaves still attached. Gray-blue gulls skimmed the tips of waves, from time to time coming up with a small fish. The opposite bank looked like a black rope that kept popping in and out of view, dancing atop sprays of glistening water. No more than a few inches kept the river from swamping the dikes; in some spots, yellow tongues of water lapped seductively at the crests, formed eddies, and slithered over the outer edges.
When we reached the riverbank, Speechless Sun was holding his impressive organ in his hand and pissing into the water, the whiskey-colored liquid making bell-like sounds when it hit the surface. He smiled when he saw us, took out a whistle he’d fashioned from a cartridge, and entertained us with birdcalls: the throaty call of the thrush, the shallow moan of the oriole, and the sad wail of the lark. It was enchanting; even his warty face softened. After running through his repertoire, he flicked the saliva out of his whistle and, with a guttural
Like a column of ants, more than a dozen 16th Regiment soldiers were carrying pine logs down one of the lanes to the riverbank.
At that moment, a guard with a rifle slung over his back came riding down the lane on a bicycle. After parking his bike, he scrambled up the dike; halfway there, one of his feet sank into a rat hole, and when he pulled it out, murky water seeped to the surface. “Look,” Sima Liang said, “the dike’s about to go.” The soldier echoed his concern. “Look out!” he shouted. “There’s a hole here.” Panic-stricken soldiers stopped what they were doing and stared fearfully at the watery hole. A rare look of terror even appeared on the mute’s face as he gazed out at the raging river, where the water flowed higher than the tallest building in the village. Taking out his sword and tossing it to the top of the dike, he stripped off his shirt and pants, until he was standing there dressed only in a pair of shorts that looked as if they were made of sheet metal. He turned to his men and grunted. Like a flock of startled woodcocks, they just gaped at him. Finally, one bushy-browed soldier shouted, “What do you want us to do? Jump