you, and put some shoulder into it. You’ll only get one chance. This animal can’t take much more suffering. Sister-in-law, your spot is behind the donkey. It’s up to you to keep the foal from dropping to the ground.” He went around to the donkey’s rear, where he rubbed his hands, took the lamp from the millstone, poured oil over his palms and rubbed them together, and then blew on them. When he tried sticking one of his hands up the birth canal, the little leg flailed wildly. By this time, his entire arm was inside the animal, up to the shoulder, his cheek pressed up against the mule’s purple hoof. Shangguan Lü’s eyes were glued to him; her lips were quivering. “Okay, gentlemen,” Fan said in a muffled voice, “on the count of three, lift with all your might. It’s life or death, so don’t cave in on me. All right?” His chin rested against the animal’s rump; his hand appeared to be grasping something deep inside. “One — two — three!” With a loud grunt, the Shangguan men made a rare display of mettle, straining under their load. Taking a cue from the effort around her, the donkey rolled over, tucked her front legs under her, and raised her head. Her rear legs shifted and curled up beneath her. Fan Three rolled with the donkey, until he was nearly lying facedown on the ground. His head disappeared from view, but his shouts continued: “Lift! Keep lifting!” The two men struggled up onto the balls of their feet, while Shangguan Lü slid beneath the donkey and pressed her back against its belly. With a loud bray, it planted its feet and stood up, and at that moment, a large, slippery object slid out from the birth canal, along with a great deal of blood and a sticky fluid, right into Fan Three’s arms, and from there to the ground.
Fan quickly cleared the little mule’s mouth of the fluid, cut the umbilical cord with his knife, and tied off the end, then carried the animal over to a clean spot on the floor, where he wiped down its body with a rag. With tears in her eyes, Shangguan Lü muttered over and over, “Thanks to heaven and earth, and to Fan Three.”
The baby mule staggered unsteadily to its feet, but quickly fell back down. Its hide was satiny smooth, its mouth the purplish red of a rose petal. Fan Three helped it to its feet. “Good girl,” he said. “A chip off the old block. The horse is my son and you, little one, you’re my granddaughter. Sister-in-law, bring some watery rice for my donkey daughter, returned from the dead.”
7
Shangguan Laidi hadn’t led her sisters more than a few dozen paces when she heard a series of sharp noises that sounded like strange bird cries. She looked into the sky to see what it was, just in time to hear an explosion in the middle of the river. Her ears rang, her brain clouded. A shattered catfish came on the air and landed at her feet. Threads of blood seeped from its split orange head; its feelers twitched, and its guts were spread all over its back. When it landed, a spray of muddy hot river water drenched Laidi and her sisters. Numbed and sort of dreamy, she turned to look at her sisters, who returned the look. She saw a gob of sticky stuff in Niandi’s hair, like a wad of chewed grass; seven or eight silvery fish scales were stuck to Xiangdi’s cheek. Dark waves churned in the river no more than a few dozen paces from where they stood, forming a whirlpool; heated water rose into the air, then fell back down into the whirlpool. A thin layer of mist hovered above the surface, and she could smell the pleasant odor of gunpowder. She struggled to figure out what had just happened, gripped by a foreboding that something was very wrong. Wanting to scream, all she could manage was a shower of tears that fell noisily to the ground. What am I crying for? No, I’m not really crying, she was thinking, and why should I? Maybe they were drops of river water, not tears at all. Chaos reigned inside her head. The scene arrayed before her — the sun
Fan quickly cleared the little mule’s mouth of the fluid, cut the umbilical cord with his knife, and tied off the end, then carried the animal over to a clean spot on the floor, where he wiped down its body with a rag. With tears in her eyes, Shangguan Lü muttered over and over, “Thanks to heaven and earth, and to Fan Three.”
The baby mule staggered unsteadily to its feet, but quickly fell back down. Its hide was satiny smooth, its mouth the purplish red of a rose petal. Fan Three helped it to its feet. “Good girl,” he said. “A chip off the old block. The horse is my son and you, little one, you’re my granddaughter. Sister-in-law, bring some watery rice for my donkey daughter, returned from the dead.”
7
Shangguan Laidi hadn’t led her sisters more than a few dozen paces when she heard a series of sharp noises that sounded like strange bird cries. She looked into the sky to see what it was, just in time to hear an explosion in the middle of the river. Her ears rang, her brain clouded. A shattered catfish came on the air and landed at her feet. Threads of blood seeped from its split orange head; its feelers twitched, and its guts were spread all over its back. When it landed, a spray of muddy hot river water drenched Laidi and her sisters. Numbed and sort of dreamy, she turned to look at her sisters, who returned the look. She saw a gob of sticky stuff in Niandi’s hair, like a wad of chewed grass; seven or eight silvery fish scales were stuck to Xiangdi’s cheek. Dark waves churned in the river no more than a few dozen paces from where they stood, forming a whirlpool; heated water rose into the air, then fell back down into the whirlpool. A thin layer of mist hovered above the surface, and she could smell the pleasant odor of gunpowder. She struggled to figure out what had just happened, gripped by a foreboding that something was very wrong. Wanting to scream, all she could manage was a shower of tears that fell noisily to the ground. What am I crying for? No, I’m not really crying, she was thinking, and why should I? Maybe they were drops of river water, not tears at all. Chaos reigned inside her head. The scene arrayed before her — the sun
Similar Books
