silent.
As he sat on the wooden plank and let his legs dangle over the edge, Junior noticed that his hands had rubbed the rust off the handlebar. On that sunny day, water flowing sluggishly down the furrows in the cabbage patch caught the sun's rays and shone like splintered silver. The plants seemed frozen in place, and so did the high riverbank at the far end of the cabbage patch and the persimmon tree atop it, whose leaves were already starting to turn a fiery red. Junior looked westward just in time to see Guo Three stride into the yard of the Li home, where the big black dog barked once, then wagged his tail in welcome. Guo Three and the dog went inside together. Purple flowers were blooming on lentils climbing a trellis in the yard. Ripples rose on the surface of the pond, where a duck quacked and a goose honked. Two pairs of wings flapped against the water. The white long-necked gander pushed the duck under the water, and when they surfaced, he was riding on her back. Junior jumped to the ground, scooped up a handful of mud, and flung it at the gander. But it was, after all, just mud, which fell apart before it even hit the water, raising only some tiny splashes. The duck, still mounted by the gander, sped around the pond.
Junior was visited by emotions he'd never known before. He felt chilled, and the mist above the pond raised goose bumps. He didn't dare straighten up, suddenly mortified by the bulge in his pants. And, wouldn't you know it, He Liping chose that moment to walk along the embankment toward the waterwheel.
Step by step she drew near to Junior, who by then was sitting on the ground. She seemed much bigger all of a sudden, and her hair shimmered with flecks of golden light. Poor Junior's heart was beating like mad, his teeth were chattering. He rested his hands on his knees, and from there let them slide down to the tops of his feet. Finally he scooped little balls of mud out of the ground.
He heard He Liping's voice: “Where's Guo Three?”
He heard his own quaking reply: “He went to Li Gaofa's house.”
He heard He Liping walk up to the wooden plank, then heard her spit into the pond. When he looked up to sneak a peek, he found she was leaning over the waterwheel, staring at the gander and duck skimming across the pond. Her rear end stuck up in the air. The sight terrified Junior.
After a while, He Liping asked him how old he was. He told her fifteen. She asked him how come he wasn't in school. He said he didn't want to go.
Junior's face was covered with sweat as he stood in front of He Liping, who started to giggle. He didn't dare raise his head.
Every day after that Guo Three went to Li Gaofa's house to treat the black dog, and He Liping came to pass the time of day with Junior, who was no longer nervous, who no longer broke out in a sweat, who even found the nerve to peek at her once in a while. He could actually smell her.
One very hot day He Liping shed her faded blue tunic, so that she was wearing only a pink undershirt, and when Junior spotted the straps and snaps of her bra he was so happy he nearly wept.
“You little creep,” she scolded, “what are you looking at?”
Junior blushed bright red, but still had the courage to say, “I'm looking at your clothes.”
With a vinegary frown, she said, “You call these clothes? Wait till you see my nice stuff.”
“You look good in anything,” Junior said bashfully.
“Quite the little flatterer, aren't we?” He Liping said.
“I've got a skirt,” she continued, “that's the same red as those persimmon leaves.”
As if on signal, they turned to look at the persimmon tree halfway up the river embankment. After surviving several frosts, the sunlit leaves glowed like bright red flames.
Junior took off running. Halfway up the embankment he climbed the tree and broke off one of the lower branches, which was covered by dozens of glossy red leaves. One had been gnawed by an insect; he plucked it off and threw it away.
The red-leafed branch was a present for He Liping, who sniffed it for its persimmony aroma. Her face was red, maybe a reflection of the leaves.
Guo Three saw Junior give He Liping the red leaves, so when they were back on the waterwheel, he giggled, “Want me to be your matchmaker?”
Junior blushed to the roots of his ears. “Hell no!”
“Little He isn't bad,” Guo Three went on. “Nice perky tits and a good broad beam.”
“Don't talk like that,” Junior protested. “She's an educated city girl… ten years older than me… so tall…”
“So what?” Guo Three replied. “Educated girls like doing it as much as anybody. And ten years older, for a girl, is nothing. Besides, ‘Tall girl, short boy – tits in the face, what a joy.’ Now that's living!”
This little monologue by Guo Three had poor Junior's rear end squirming and his body temperature soaring.
“The little sparrow's standing up,” Guo Three remarked. “And not so little, at that.”
From that day onward, Guo Three hardly stopped coaching Junior in certain matters, until finally, unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, Junior broached the subject of the “big teapot.” Guo Three happily obliged with a graphic description of what went on in a whorehouse.
Junior turned the waterwheel, but his thoughts were miles away: He Liping's image fluttered before his eyes. Guo Three took this as an invitation for even more salacious talk.
With a crack in his voice, Junior pleaded, “Master Three, please don't talk about things like that.”
“You dumb prick, what are you getting all weepy about? Go to her. She's itching for it, too!”
So one day Junior went into the production team's vegetable garden and stole a carrot, which he washed off and hid in tall grass until He Liping carne along. The oldster Guo Three hadn't arrived when she showed up, so Junior handed her the carrot.
She studied his face as she accepted the gift.
Junior could only imagine what he looked like at that moment, with his matted, grass-stained hair and tattered clothes.
“Why are you giving me this carrot?” He Liping asked him.
“Because I like you,” he said.
She sighed and rubbed the carrot's orange, glossy skin. “But you're still a child…” She rubbed his head and walked off with her carrot.
Junior and He Liping went to the distant field to re-sow the millet field. Since draft animals needed room to turn around, some spots were left vacant. They arrived at a field where sorghum had just been harvested. Buds were beginning to appear on the newly planted millet, and dry sorghum stalks were stacked at the head of the patch of ground. It was late autumn by then, and getting cold. After spreading their millet seeds for a while, He Liping and Junior rested in front of a sorghum stack to soak up the warm, inviting rays of sunlight. They had an unobstructed view of the newly harvested and deserted field, over which birds circled noisily.
He Liping laid some bundles of sorghum stalks on the ground and stretched out lazily against them. Junior stood off to the side, gazing down at her. Her face shone in sunlight that was bright enough to make her squint; pretty white teeth showed between her moist, slightly parted lips.
Junior shivered; his lips felt dry, and there was a lump in his throat. “Guo Three and Li Gaofa's wife do you- know-what,” he managed to say. “Goes there every day…”
Still squinting, He Liping smiled radiantly.
“… Guo Three says bad things… says you…”
Still squinting, He Liping spread her arms and legs wide.
Junior took a step closer. “Guo Three says you're always thinking about doing you-know-what…”
He Liping looked up and smiled.
Junior knelt alongside her. “Guo Three wishes I had the nerve to touch you…”
He Liping was smiling.
Junior began to sob. Through his tears, he said, “Big Sister, I want to touch you… want to touch you, Big Sister…”
Junior's hand was no sooner resting upon He Liping's breast than she wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him…
The following year, He Liping gave birth to twins, an event that rocked all of Gaomi Township.
