Lenin's Kisses (62 page)

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Authors: Yan Lianke

BOOK: Lenin's Kisses
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She said this very softly, as though she were an invalid asking the doctor to give her a prescription, and when the doctor—which is to say, the driver—replied he became very gentle, his face flushed. He looked down at her, then at the bundle of money, and said softly, “Once I receive the money, I’ll certainly open the door.” As he said this, he took a bundle of keys out of his pocket and showed them to Grandma Mao Zhi. He shook them back and forth, making the keys clink and clank, and said, “Hand me the money; I’m good for my word.”

With great effort, Grandma Mao lifted the bundle of money to the window.

The driver unhurriedly accepted it.

The entire transaction was completed in less time than it takes to swallow a bite of steamed bun or a gulp of water. It took no longer than the length of a needle, and then the money was in the driver’s hands. He unhurriedly took a loose corner of the bundle and retied it, then handed it down to the person standing on the ladder below him, saying, “Hold this.” Then he looked through the window at Grandma Mao Zhi, and asked softly,

“Is all the money here?”

“It’s all there.”

“Are you sure no one has any more on their person?”

“Weren’t you watching as they all took out their money?”

The driver didn’t say anything else. He stuck out his tongue, then used his lips to push it back in. He repeated this gesture several times until his lips were wet and the color of blood, then he pursed his lips and thought for a while, and finally asked gently,

“Are Huaihua and her three nin sisters your granddaughters?”

Grandma Mao Zhi looked over at Huaihua, Tonghua, Yuhua, and Mothlet. She didn’t know why the driver was asking her this, but nodded.

“How old are they?”

“They are seventeen.”

“How about this?” he said. “I know there are several wholers among you, and they are now energized after having just eaten some buns and drunk some water. In order to guarantee that they don’t make trouble when we open the door, you should let your granddaughters crawl out through the window first.” He said, “Once we have your granddaughters in hand, we will open the door and each go our separate ways.”

With this, the situation took an abrupt change of course. The driver’s flushed expression immediately changed hue, like the sun disappearing behind the clouds. After briefly considering what he had said, the villagers decided it sounded reasonable. The villagers behind Grandma Mao Zhi started moving forward, into the center of the hall. The sun had already passed over the memorial hall, and the sun rays that had been shining in through the front window had at some point shifted to the back window. The main hall was covered in a gentle red light, and the midday heat had started to dissipate.

A cool breeze began to blow through the hall, and with this breeze everyone gradually came to their senses. Some of the older villagers walked up and stood next to Grandma Mao Zhi, and said to the driver in the window, “Son, look at us down here. We are blind, crippled, deaf, mute, and paralyzed. Some of us are missing an arm or a leg. While it is true that there are a few wholers among us, they are all over sixty. How could we possibly make any trouble? If you let us come out and return to Liven, we will bow down to you in eternal gratitude.”

“Don’t waste my time with this.” The driver looked up at the sky and said, “Will you let the four girls out or not?”

No one responded, and instead everyone looked at Huaihua and her three nin sisters, and then at Grandma Mao Zhi. Grandma Mao Zhi was as pale as a sheet, and the corners of her mouth were trembling. The wrinkles on her face were twitching, like a spiderweb that had been blown apart by the wind. She wasn’t sure whether or not she should let her granddaughters go out first, and wasn’t even sure whether or not they themselves would be willing. The main hall again became completely silent. The sound of the setting sun shining in through the window was as loud as the cicadas crying under the sunset, reverberating in everyone’s ears. In this deathly silence, Huaihua suddenly announced in a loud voice,

“I’ll go. I’d prefer to go out and die rather than live in this stifling place.”

Having said this, she pushed the table to the window, then placed the three-legged chair on top, leaning the side without legs against the door frame. She climbed up onto the table, and then onto the chair. From there, she extended her arm and the wholer outside grabbed her hand and pulled her through the window.

Yuhua also climbed up and was pulled out.

Mothlet also climbed up and was pulled out.

Now only Blind Tonghua remained standing next to her grandmother. Grandma Mao Zhi looked to the driver and said, “She is blind.” He replied, “The blind one has to come as well, because that way I know you’ll worry about her.” Tonghua turned to her grandmother and said, “Grandma, I can’t see a thing, and don’t have anything to fear.” She began walking over to the door, and Grandma Mao Zhi led her to the table, then helped guide her onto the chair on the table, so that the people outside could pluck her out through the window as though she were a chicken.

With this, the villagers had done everything they were supposed to, handed over everything they were supposed to, and said everything they were supposed to. They waited for the people outside to open the door. At this point, however, the driver peered in at them with a faint smile. That smile was as sallow as a field of turnip mustard blossoms in the summer, both accommodating and unyielding. He abruptly shouted, “Fuck this. Are you trying to fuck around with us? Did you think we wouldn’t know? Did you think I really believed that you passed over all your money? I saw that many of you still have money hidden on your persons. You have money hidden under the bricks beneath your bedrolls, in the cracks in the wall of the latrine, and under the crystal coffin. You’ve hidden your earnings from the performances everywhere. I’m telling you
. . .
” He suddenly started roaring, opening his mouth as wide as a city gate, “I’m telling you, if you don’t pass
all
of your money beneath the door, tonight I’ll let my people enjoy Huaihua’s beauty, and before nightfall I’ll let them ravage the bodies of her three nin sisters.”

Having said this, he immediately climbed back down the ladder, like someone sinking below the waves. Soon, there was no trace of him.

The setting sun continued shining in through the windows in the back of the hall, shining onto the villagers’ bodies and faces.

Further Reading:

1)
Well water.
Refers to cold water that has just been drawn from a well.

3)
Rest period.
Refers to a midday nap.

C
HAPTER 7:
T
HE DOOR IS OPEN.
. . .
T
HE DOOR IS OPEN.
. . .

The sky was almost completely dark.

All of the money had been passed beneath the door. None of them had a single cent left hidden on their persons or in their rooms. First, Paraplegic Woman passed over the money she had earned for the last few performances and sewn into her sleeve, next Deafman Ma passed over the cash he had hidden in the crease of his two-layered metal billfold, and then Mute passed over the bills he had hidden under the bricks beneath his bedroll. Eventually, everyone’s money had been sent outside. By now the sun had set, and not a trace of red remained in the back window. As the villagers were waiting for the door to be opened, the man collecting the money shouted to the people inside,

“Hey! The sun has gone down. You can come out tomorrow. Just spend another night inside with Lenin’s crystal coffin, and tomorrow when you leave we’ll issue each of you your salary for the past six months.”

After he finished speaking, everything became silent again.

Night fell, and a humid atmosphere pervaded every side room in the memorial hall. The person had said that it was dark, and that tomorrow they would discuss leaving, but by this point the villagers were all too exhausted to say anything, or even think about anything. It was as if the question of whether or not the door would be opened, and even whether or not they would be allowed to leave, had become completely immaterial.

The villagers returned to their respective rooms, where they lay down and stared at the ceiling. The moonlight poured in through the windows like water. The snow-white ceiling appeared pale green in the evening light. No one said anything, or asked anything. It was as if they were all extraordinarily tired, and just wanted to lie down and rest and wait silently for whatever was to follow.

They assumed that the rest of the night would pass like this, but shortly after dinnertime the villagers began hearing Tonghua’s, Yuhua’s, and Mothlet’s sharp screams coming from far away, like bloodcurdling wails emanating from the mountain or the gorge. The sound was bitingly cold, and seemed as if it was coming from the dead. It stopped and started, like a chunk of ice flowing down a river on a bitterly cold winter day. Periodically, they could also hear the wholers’ maniacal laughter as they shouted, “Come do them. They are small, so their holes are small, tight and livening.
. . .
Whoever doesn’t do them will regret it the rest of their lives!” These shouts were followed immediately by the nins’ screams and cries. As the villagers heard these sounds, there were so startled, they all sat up in their beds.

Eventually, they all went to Grandma Mao Zhi’s room, and saw that the light in her room was shining bright, as she sat in the corner listening to the cries. Over and over again she slapped her face, as if she were slapping someone else’s face or a wind-dried board. She cursed hoarsely,

“Go die.
. . .

“Go die.
. . .

“Go die.
. . .

“Go die right now.
. . .

“Go die right now.
. . .

Grandma Mao Zhi’s slaps and curses drowned out the wails and struggles of the nins outside, just as the sound of a storm outside might drown out the sound of someone knocking at the door. Grandma Mao Zhi was in her seventies, and the villagers found it nearly unbearable to see someone so elderly beat and curse herself in this way. They rushed over and restrained her.

Paraplegic Woman, who shared a room with Grandma Mao Zhi, came over and grasped her hand, saying repeatedly,

“Auntie, no one is blaming you.
. . .
Auntie, really, no one has uttered a word blaming you.”

The villagers all hurried over and restrained Grandma Mao Zhi until she calmed down. By the time she recovered, the nins’ cries had ceased. The entire world became deathly quiet, and there was only the sound of the moon rays and starlight shining in through the window.

In this way, the night passed.

The villagers remained in their respective rooms, unable to sleep. Without saying a word or moving a muscle, they were waiting for the next day to hurry up and arrive. Only One-Legged Monkey sat restlessly in bed. Eventually, he exclaimed, “Fuck this!” and proceeded to drink the unboiled water the wholers had passed through the window, after which he had diarrhea and spent the entire night running back and forth to the latrine. While doing so, he systematically pried off all of the embossed gold characters from the lid of Chief Liu’s crystal coffin in the pit below Lenin’s. From this point on, he became Liven’s most extraordinary resident.

But as everyone was waiting for daybreak, little Polio Boy got up to do something, and as he passed in front of the memorial hall door, he suddenly cried out,

“It’s open! The door’s open!

“The door’s open! The door’s open!”

Everyone hurriedly got out of bed. The paraplegics, cripples, blind people, and deaf people all rushed toward the door of the memorial hall. A cripple fell to the ground; a woman was pushed into a door frame and started bleeding. Deafman Ma didn’t hear the shouting, but when he saw everyone rushing toward the door, he also ran out of his room, naked. It was true—the two red doors were now wide open. The early morning breeze was blowing in as though it were blowing over directly from the city wall. The sky was still cloudy. There was a glistening layer of water on the limestone kowtow steps in front of the memorial hall, and the pines and cypresses on either side of the hall were like a row of shadows in the darkness. The villagers rushed out like people emerging from prison or a cave, and stood in front of the memorial hall doors rubbing their eyes. Some stretched their arms, as though trying to grasp the sky and hold it tight. Then someone remembered Huaihua and her nin sisters, and said, “Quick, let’s go look for Tonghua, Huaihua, Yuhua, and Mothlet.”

They all started running down the stone kowtow steps.

They quickly found Tonghua, Huaihua, Yuhua, and Mothlet in the empty rooms that were used to sell odds and ends at the base of the kowtow steps. The rooms were full of empty bowls, chopsticks, and clothing that the wholers had left behind when they departed, and there was also a noxious odor of uneaten food. The girls had been left completely naked, each of them tied up in a different small room. Tonghua and Huaihua were each tied to a bed, while Yuhua and Mothlet were tied to a couple of chairs. Tonghua, Yuhua, and Mothlet had not only been beaten by the wholers, but because they were all tiny nins, their genitalia had been ripped open, and the area between their legs was covered in blood. In order to prevent them from crying out, their shirts and pants had been stuffed into their mouths. Mothlet’s mouth had been stuffed with her underwear. By the time the villagers found them, it was already light outside, the white fog having been replaced by clear light, and the villagers could clearly see that the girls’ tender bodies were all bruised, and that beneath the bruises the girls were as pale as death.

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