He paused for a while, and since he didn’t hear his dad call him again, he went back to tossing pebbles into the water. Only after Erxi’s coworkers brought his remains to the hospital and he was officially declared dead did someone go tell Kugen, “Kugen, Kugen, your father’s dead.”
Kugen still didn’t quite know what death was. He turned around to answer, “I know.”
After that he just ignored the guy and went on throwing stones.
I was in the field working when one of Erxi’s coworkers ran down to tell me, “Erxi’s dying! He’s in the hospital. Hurry!”
As soon as I heard something had happened to Erxi and that he was in the hospital, I immediately began to cry. I yelled over to Erxi’s coworker, “Hurry up and get him out of that hospital. You can’t leave him in that hospital.”
The guy stared at me in confusion — he must have thought I was crazy. I told him, “Once Erxi enters that hospital, there’s no telling if he’ll come out alive.”
Both Youqing and Fengxia had died in that hospital, but I had never imagined that Erxi would end up there, too. Can you imagine, three times in my life I had to go to that small room where the dead lay, and all three times it was my own relatives I saw lying there? By then I was old, and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I went to get Erxi to bring him home, but the moment I saw that little room I collapsed on the floor. Just like Erxi, I had to be carried out of that hospital.
After Erxi died I brought Kugen to the country to live with me. The day we left town I gave Erxi’s furniture and things to his neighbors; I picked out only a few of the lighter things to take with me. By the time I left with Kugen it was almost dark. All the neighbors came out to see us off. They walked us to the end of the street and said, “Be sure to come back and visit.”
A few of the women even cried and caressed Kugen.
“Poor child’s really got it tough,” they said.
Kugen didn’t like their tears falling on his face. Pulling me by the hand he tried to get me to leave. “Come on, let’s go! Hurry!”
As I walked down the street holding Kugen’s hand, the icy wind whisked down my neck. The farther I walked, the more empty I felt inside. I thought about how we’d had a big, happy family and how now all that was left was an old man and a little boy. I was in so much pain that I didn’t even have the strength to sigh. But just looking at Kugen brought me comfort. Having him was better than anything. There was hope for the Xu family after all. I had to keep on living.
As we approached a noodle shop, Kugen suddenly yelled out, “I don’t want any noodles!”
I had other things on my mind and didn’t really pay attention to what he’d said. But when we got to the shop entrance, Kugen called out again, “I don’t want any noodles!”
After yelling he pulled my hand and wouldn’t let me go any farther, and only then did I realize that he really did want some noodles. This kid didn’t have a mother or father — if he wanted a bowl of noodles I figured that buying the kid a bowl of noodles was the least I could do. I brought him in and paid nine fen for a small bowl. I sat there and watched him slurp down his noodles. He ate so quickly his face became covered in sweat. When we left he was still licking his lips.
“Can we come back tomorrow to have some more?” he asked.
I nodded, “Okay.”
Before we got too far we came to a candy store, and once again Kugen pulled my hand. Looking up, he said in a serious voice, “At first I wanted to have some candy, but since I already had noodles, it’s okay.”
I knew that he was trying a new tactic, this time to get me to buy him some candy. I reached my hand into my pocket and felt two fen, and after thinking for a second I pulled out five fen. I gave the money to Kugen so he could buy five pieces of candy.
When we got home, Kugen said his feet were aching really badly and were tired from walking all that way. I let him lie down in bed while I went to heat some water for him to soak his feet in. By the time the water was heated, Kugen was already asleep. He had propped his two feet up on the wall and conked right out. Seeing him like that, I couldn’t help laughing. Sore feet always feel better propped up. Kugen was so little, yet already he had learned how to take care of himself. But right after that, a sadness came over me. Kugen still didn’t know that he’d never see his father again.
After I went to sleep that night, I kept feeling a kind of pressure, a weight around my heart. Only once I sat up did I realize that Kugen’s little butt had been pressing against my stomach. I pushed his rump away, but just as I was about to fall back asleep his little bottom slowly made its way back over. I reached out my hand and realized that he had wet his side of the bed. No wonder his little ass kept coming over to press against me. So I just let it.
The next day Kugen started to miss his dad. He was playing on the ridge while I was working out in the field. After playing all day Kugen came over to ask me, “Are you taking me home? Or is Dad coming to pick me up?”
When the villagers saw Kugen like this, they shook their heads and remarked on what an unfortunate kid he was. But then one of the farmers told him, “You’re not going home.”
He shook his little head and said seriously, “Oh yes I am.”
That evening Kugen started to get anxious when he saw his father still hadn’t come. His little mouth chirped along, saying all kinds of things, but I couldn’t understand a word of it. I thought that maybe he was cursing someone. Finally, he looked up at me and said, “Forget it. If he’s not coming, he’s not coming. I’m just a little kid. I don’t know the way home. You’ll have to take me.”
“Your dad’s not coming to get you, and I’m not taking you home,” I told him. “Your dad is dead.”
“I know he’s dead,” Kugen replied. “It’s already dark and he still hasn’t come to get me.”
That night, lying under the covers, I told Kugen what death was. I told him that after people die they are buried, and that people still living won’t be able to see them anymore. At first he was so scared that he trembled all over. Afterward, when he realized that he wouldn’t see Erxi again, he began to cry. His little face pressed against my neck, and warm tears dripped on my chest. He sobbed and wailed until finally crying himself to sleep.
After a couple of days I thought I ought to let Kugen see where Erxi was buried. I brought him to the western part of the village and told him which grave was his grandma’s, which was his mom’s and which was his uncle’s. Before I pointed out Erxi’s grave, Kugen pointed to it. In tears he said, “This one’s Dad’s.”
Kugen and I were together only six months when the village fixed the output quotas for each family. That’s when it started to become even more difficult to get by. Our family got only one and a half mu. From that point on I couldn’t hide among the others while working or drag my feet when I was tired. The fields never stopped calling me. If I didn’t do the work, there was no one who was going to do it for me.
Once I got old I began to fall apart. Every day my back was sore and my vision blurry. I used to be able to carry a load of vegetables into town all in one breath, but by this time I had to take periodic rests as I went. Unless I set out a full two hours before dawn there wouldn’t be any buyers by the time I got to the market. I’d finally become that “slow bird who starts early.” Now Kugen was the one who had it the hardest. I’d pull him out of bed when he was fast asleep. Then, with his eyes half-closed, he would grab hold of the bamboo basket and follow me into town. Kugen was a good kid. Noticing that I kept taking breaks because the load was too heavy, he would take a few handfuls of vegetables out of each of my baskets. Carrying them in his arms, he’d walk in front of me, and every so often he would turn around to ask, “Is it any lighter?”