I walked up, holding my baby in my arms. I’d been in the army so long, it would have felt unnatural to be in civilian clothes, so I’d accompanied Renmei to the hospital in uniform. A young military officer carrying a newborn infant had plenty of authority. Let Yuan Sai go, Uncle, I said. He didn’t mean to do it.
Yes, that’s right, Uncle, I didn’t mean it, Yuan Sai sobbed. Be forgiving. I’ll find someone to fix your wheelbarrow and baskets, and I’ll pay for the broken dolls.
For my sake, I said, and for the sake of my daughter and her mother, let him go so we can cross the bridge.
Renmei poked her head out from the cabin. Uncle Hao! she shouted. Can you make me an identical pair of boy dolls?
Popular wisdom in the township had it that if a woman bought one of Hao Dashou’s dolls, tied a red string around its neck, laid it at the head of the kang, and made offerings to it, she’d have a baby exactly like it. But Hao would not let people choose the dolls they wanted. Artisans in other counties laid their wares out on the ground for people to choose. Hao Dashou kept his in covered willow baskets. After sizing up the buyer, he’d reach into one of his baskets to take one out, and that would be the only one he’d sell you. If you complained it wasn’t attractive enough, he would not exchange it. With a sad smile on his lips, though he’d say nothing, you could almost hear him saying, Are there really parents who complain that their children are ugly? The more you look at the doll in your hand, the more it appeals to you, and the more alive it becomes, like a living breathing child. He won’t bargain with you, and if you don’t offer him money, he won’t ask for any. No one ever heard him say thanks when they did pay, and people gradually came around to feeling that buying one of his dolls was much the same as ordering a real child from him. The talk kept getting stranger. If the doll he sold you was a girl, they’d say, when you went home, you’d have a girl; if it was a boy doll, that’s what you’d have. And if he took out two, you’d go home and have twins. This was a totally mystical arrangement, one that held up as long as you didn’t talk about it. People like my wife were impossible to reason with, and no one but she would blatantly try to get a pair of boys out of him. By the time the mysterious talk about Hao Dashou first reached our ears, she was already pregnant. It only worked before a woman was pregnant.
For my sake, Dashou let go of Yuan Sai, who rubbed his wrist and sobbed, This has been a terrible day for me. I walked out the gate and saw a bitch piss in my direction, and, sure enough, I walked into trouble.
Hao bent down to pick up the broken doll pieces and tucked them into his jacket. Then he moved to the side of the bridge to let us pass. There was frost on his beard and a solemn look on his face.
What did she have? Yuan Sai asked.
A girl.
No problem. The next one will be a boy.
There’ll be no next one.
Don’t you worry, Yuan Sai said with a conspiratorial wink. I’ll think of something when the time comes.
4
My daughter was nine days old on the first day of the year of the dog. According to local custom, this was a day of momentous significance, and friends and relatives arrived to help celebrate. We asked Wuguan and Yuan Sai to come over the day before to help us borrow all the tables and chairs, teapots and cups, glasses, plates, and chopsticks we’d need. A rough calculation came up with about fifty people. That meant two tables each in the eastern and western side rooms for the male guests, and one table in Mother’s room for the women. I produced a menu with eight cold plates and eight hot dishes per table, in addition to a soup. Yuan Sai took one look and laughed. This won’t do, my friend. Your guests are all farmers. They’ve got stomachs like bushel bags. What you have there is an appetiser for them. Listen to me, he went on. Forget all the variety and just pile on the meat. That and a big bowl of strong liquor counts as a feast for farming people. You’re being too fancy, and their chopsticks won’t be moving long before it’s all gone; then they’ll wait for more — which won’t be forthcoming. You’ll lose face, big time. I knew he was right, so I had Wuguan go to town for fifty jin of pork, half lean and half fat, and ten braised chickens, the kind with plenty of meat on their bones. Then I went out and ordered forty jin of tofu from Wang Huan, the bean curd peddler, and told Yuan Sai to buy ten Chinese cabbages, ten jin of bean noodles and twenty jin of liquor. Renmei’s family sent over 200 hen’s eggs, and when her father, my father-in-law, saw the preparations, he had a satisfied look. Son-in-law, he said, now you’ve done it. People have always laughed at your family for being cheap, but this lavish arrangement will change that when you send everyone home with a full belly. People who accomplish big things need to do everything in a big way.
About half the guests had arrived when it dawned on me that I’d forgotten to buy cigarettes. So I told Wuguan to go to the co-op to get some just as Chen Bi and Wang Dan arrived with their baby. Wuguan pointed to the gift they’d brought. No need to buy cigarettes, he said.
Chen Bi had done well in recent years, becoming one of the village’s rich men, what we called a ‘ten-thousand-aire’. He’d gone to Shenzhen and brought back some digital watches, which he’d sold to fad-crazy young people. Then he went to Jinan where he bought cigarettes from a wholesaler he knew and had Wang Dan sell them in the marketplace.
I’d seen her peddling them. She’d hung a well-designed device around her neck — a carrying case folded up and a display rack when let down. She’d dressed in a form-fitting blue jacket, with her baby strapped to her back in a cotton poncho, so only her nose showed. Whether they knew her or not, everyone who passed by took careful notice of her. The locals all knew she was the wife of the cigarette merchant Chen Bi, and the mother of the chubby little one on her back; outsiders took pity on the pretty girl who was out selling cigarettes with her baby sister on her back. Folks usually bought her cigarettes out of sympathy.
On this day Chen Bi was wearing a stiff pigskin leather jacket over a cable-knit turtleneck sweater. His face was red, his chin freshly shaved — big nose, sunken eyes with grey irises, hair curled.
Moneybags is here, Wuguan announced.
Moneybags, my eye, Chen Bi said. A small-time entrepreneur is more like it.
Tovarisch, Yuan Sai said. Your Chinese is pretty good, comrade.
Chen Bi raised the package he was holding. I’ll give you a taste of this! he threatened.
Cigarettes? Yuan Sai shouted. Just what everyone’s been clamouring for.
Chen Bi flung the package at Yuan Sai, who caught it and opened it to find four packs of Rooster cigarettes.
A true businessman, he said. How generous.
With that mouth of yours, Yuan Sai, Wang Dan said in a tiny voice, you could make a dead man dance disco.
Aiya, Sister-in-law, pardon my lack of manners, but how come he isn’t holding you in his arms?
I’ll split your lip! she said as she raised her hand threateningly.
Pick me up, Mama… It was Chen Er, who came around from behind her; she was now nearly as tall as her mother.
Chen Er, I said as I bent down and picked her up. How about letting your uncle hold you?
She started to cry, so Chen Bi took her from me and patted her bottom. Don’t cry, Er-er. I thought you wanted to see your uncle the army officer.