The Embroidered Shoes (8 page)

One day, while sitting with his back to us, Sha-yuan suddenly patted his head with his hand. We walked over, and Sha-yuan's mother turned him around so he was facing us. His facial expression was calm and relaxed. Cautiously choosing my words, I asked him what he was thinking about while sitting here, and if he was feeling lonely.

“Listen,” he replied briefly.

“What do you hear?”

“Nothing, very quiet. But the situation will change completely after nine o'clock in the evening.”

“How can you possibly dare to desert us like that? How can we live without you?” Sha-yuan's mother started her lament.

“You can't call it desertion,” Sha-yuan said gently. “I was born to catch snakes.”

I advised Sha-yuan's mother not to worry too much about her son. In my opinion, her boy, odd as he was, appeared to be a genius, who might one day turn out to be somebody.

“We don't care if he will be somebody,” the mother said. “Both his father and I are only ordinary people. How is it that we should have a son who is involved in such shameful business? Raising poisonous snakes, that's frightening. What does he want to do? I might as well have given birth to a poisonous snake! We simply can't stop worrying about him. We're completely worn out by him. The worst thing is that now he can do strange things even without going outdoors. He always has a way to achieve what he wants.”

*   *   *

One day I saw Sha-yuan's mother coming out of the air-raid shelter with a hoe in her hand. She looked wan and sallow. She told me she had just exterminated another nest of little snakes, eight altogether. She was almost bald, and she walked like an aged woman. Behind her appeared Sha-yuan's father, an old man who couldn't stop blinking one eye. Finally Sha-yuan himself emerged. His back was bent, and he appeared calm. When he saw me, he nodded and started talking: “I created this scene of slaughter on purpose. It might even be described as spectacular—eight lives destroyed once and for all. To them, it was not a matter of any particular terror. I was only surprised by the firmness and confidence of the hands that raised the hoe.”

When asked if he was the one who took his parents to the shelter, he said yes. As soon as they asked, he took them there. He had always maintained a kind of curiosity about his parents' behavior. While he was talking, his mother stared at the sky with her empty eyes, and his father mumbled repeatedly: “Extreme views can cause tremendous difficulty in a person's life, but beautiful scenery can open one's mind.”

I found that the slaughterer, the mother, was the most crestfallen among the three, but Sha-yuan remained detached. All at once it dawned on me that there existed a subtle relationship among these three, a peculiar mutual check. What had just happened was a proof. He didn't have to take his parents to the shelter; instead, he could have led them somewhere else. Was this only the result of his easygoing personality?

Then I recalled Sha-yuan's infancy. No doubt, he had been an extraordinarily sensitive baby, with extremely rich facial expressions. The mother had been very proud of him, yet she was nervous. She told me privately that she found the child got tired very easily, particularly when others were talking. As soon as a person started talking to him, he would lower his eyelids and fall into a sound sleep. “He's just like one of those sensitive mimosa plants whose leaves fold up when you touch them, though he's not as shy.” Sha-yuan kept his habit until he was five. Then he learned to control himself, though purely for the sake of courtesy. When others talked to him a little bit too long, he would start yawning, then doze off without any consideration for the speaker.

At that time, he did not hate traveling. On the contrary, he appeared to like it somewhat, because he did not need to listen to others while traveling. While his parents were enjoying the beauty of nature, he would sit down to the side and listen attentively to any smallest sound made by little animals. He could always point out accurately where a field vole had just dug a hole, or in which direction a banded krait was advancing quietly. It was possible he had been training his unique listening ability ever since he was born. It seems, however, that this talent has never been tuned to the human voice. After several years' practice, he could make certain movements just by activating his mental will. On the surface, he was a soft and obedient kid. Such a child very easily makes people lose their vigilance. The fisherman's child was bitten under such circumstances. Now Sha-yuan's parents were getting hurt. It was a profound puzzle how he considered the people and objects surrounding him. On the one hand, he seemed to pity those little snakes, but on the other hand, he instigated his parents to slaughter them. Nobody can figure out such contradictory actions. I can't say that beautiful scenery did not affect him. It may have been the beautiful scenery that cultivated his temperament. After all, different people can appreciate scenery very differently. By the same token, his parents' painstaking efforts to control the child could only lead to the opposite result.

Then suddenly there came a day when Sha-yuan stopped meditating facing the wall, and his attitude toward his parents also turned warmer. Whenever I went for a visit, I always saw the threesome living in harmony. The smile had returned to his mother's face. In the past decade or so, the old lady had been completely tied down by her son. But now, even the wrinkles on her face had smoothed out. She said to me happily, “My child Sha-yuan is getting sensible. Just think how many poisonous snakes I have killed for his sake!” As she was talking, Sha-yuan in the background was nodding his head in agreement.

*   *   *

I did not believe the matter was as simple as that. I felt vaguely the falseness in Sha-yuan's smile. Though he was no longer raising poisonous snakes, who could guess what new trick he might be up to? I decided to talk to him seriously.

“Now I don't need a place to raise snakes,” Sha-yuan answered. “They are in my belly. They don't stay inside all the time, of course. They come out whenever I want them to. The little flowery snake is my favorite.”

Staring at his body, which was getting thinner daily, I asked if his mother knew about all of this. But Sha-yuan said that it was not necessary to let her know. Since the little snakes did not really occupy space, the matter need not be considered to exist so long as he did not mention it. Just let everybody be happy. My next question was whether this would affect his health.

He gave me an attentive look, then he suddenly appeared sleepy. Yawning hard, he said, “Who doesn't have something like that in his belly? They just don't know, that's all. That's why they're healthy. I'm always sleepy. You've talked so much. I rarely talk so much. You're weird.”

Despite my efforts to ask for more, he dropped his head down and fell into a sound sleep while standing by the table.

*   *   *

Sha-yuan's mother got really excited, and she looked much younger now. While packing, she said, “It seems that travel is necessary.” Sha-yuan joined her with joy in packing. But after a while, he turned aside and started vomiting. “Nothing serious.” He wiped his pale lips and muttered almost secretly, “It was some mischief from the little flowery snake.”

Quickly they started their journey on a northwest-bound train. It was a windy day.

They did not come back until two years later. The three looked the same as they had been, harmonious and peaceful. Nothing unusual could be detected. Sha-yuan obviously had gained some weight, and his face looked healthier than before. When I asked him quietly about the snakes, he said they were still in his belly. But he had learned how to adjust, so that even running and doing the high jump would not cause him any harm. Sometimes, having snakes in his belly was even beneficial to his health. I asked him what benefit it could bring to the body, and Sha-yuan's yawns started again. He complained that it was painful to listen to others. Sha-yuan's mother invited me for dinner. While eating, the old lady, who used to grumble, was now silent. She did not appear as confident as before. Sha-yuan's father only said one sentence: “No more travel.” Then everybody was quiet.

After that they kept their front gate open. The parents stopped watching Sha-yuan's behavior as if they had lost interest and become oblivious. But they appeared anxious and from morning till night they checked their watches constantly. Obviously they were waiting for something. “Waiting for their deaths,” Sha-yuan said. He tapped his belly, which was flat. There was no sign of anything inside. According to Sha-yuan, it had worked out fine. Nobody suspected that he raised snakes anymore. But in fact, the leopard can't change its spots.

The fall wind was whistling across the plain. It sounded musical from morning to night. This mysterious family was baffling me more and more. I remembered that the mother was only fifty, and the father, fifty-five. But just see how old they looked. Both were suffering from cardiac arteriosclerosis and their slow movements worried me. “He has destroyed us,” the father said suddenly one day. His facial expression revealed his confusion. “We are dying so fast.” After the remark, his face relaxed instantly. His glance lingered on the skinny shoulder of Sha-yuan. The glance was both kind and loving. The three certainly had a tacit understanding.

*   *   *

The parents had different explanations about the disappearance of the child. According to the father, the boy had mentioned going to the air-raid shelter after supper, because he hadn't been there for a long time, and he was curious about any new changes there. Neither of the parents had paid any attention to their son's remark. They were too tired. The son then stood up and walked toward the door with staggering steps. Recently he had become all bony. He did not return that whole night, and nobody bothered looking for him. “It's too troublesome,” the father said, his eyes fixed on the windowpane.

Sha-yuan's mother never admitted that her son had walked out on her. “The child was never reliable. For more than a decade, we had both kept our eyes wide open in watching, without any obvious effect. What can I say? He could still wander around at will without our seeing him. Now I've given up. Who knows whether or not he was my child to start with, or even if he had been living with us at all? I don't think he left yesterday. I've never even been able to confirm his existence.”

Listening to them, I became perplexed also. What was Sha-yuan, after all? I pondered hard, but in my mind there were only some miscellaneous fragments, some odd remarks. When I tried to concentrate, even the remarks faded away. As a result, I could not think of anything about Sha-yuan except his name.

Just when everybody believed that he had vanished, however, Sha-yuan came back. He resumed his quiet and friendly life at home. His behavior once again contributed to the indifferent attitude of his parents. They no longer cared at all if the boy existed or not. They were simply worn out.

“Where did you get the name Sha-yuan?” I asked abruptly.

“I've been wondering about it myself. Nobody ever gave him that name. Where
did
it come from?” the mother said, looking confused.

HOMECOMING

As a matter of fact, I'm very familiar with this area. For some time I came here every day. However, now it's too dark, and the moon is reluctant to come out, so I can go forward only by instinct. After a while, I smell an odor. It's from a small chestnut tree. Past the chestnut tree, dry grass crackles under my step. Now I feel relaxed. Here's a stretch of grassland. No matter which direction you face, you can't reach the end of the prairie without at least half an hour's walk. The ground is very flat, without even any dips. Once my younger brother and I conducted an experiment here by walking forward for ten minutes with our eyes closed. We both came through the trial safe and sound.

Reaching the grassland, I wander about aimlessly. I know that soon afterward I'm going to see a house. Ultimately I will arrive there without having to give it much thought. In the past this method always brought me unexpected joy. Once I enter that house, I will sit down and drink a cup of tea with the owner (a pale-faced gentleman with no beard or hair). Then one breath will take you down along a zigzag mountain trail until you reach a grove of banana trees. The owner is rather kind, and, in his reluctance to part, always accompanies me to the corner, where I have to turn. He always wishes me good luck. The most comfortable thing is the downhill trail, which is very easy to walk. Soon there will appear a monkey to greet me. Each time I nod at him, and then he leads the way. Usually, when I reach the banana grove, I lie down beneath a tree and eat my fill. Then I go home. On my way home there is no monkey. Of course I never lose my way, because everything is so familiar to me. Strangely, the way home is again downhill, and I walk without any effort. Why is that? I've never understood the logic in this.

Wandering like this, I know I've reached the house because my forehead has suddenly bumped into the brick wall. Tonight the owner of the house hasn't put on the light. Nor does he greet me from the stoop as he usually does.

“Why should you come so late?” he says from inside the window. He sounds a bit unhappy. Feeling his way around for a long time, he opens the door with a creak.

“I can't turn on the light,” he says. “It's too dangerous. I guess you still don't know that behind our house there is a deep abyss. This house was built on a cliff. I've been hiding this fact from you in the past, but I can't anymore. Do you remember that I always accompany you to the corner, chatting about something distracting? I was afraid that you might turn your head and see the position of the house!”

I sit down at the table.

“That's not too difficult,” the owner continued. In the darkness he passes a cup of lukewarm water into my hand. “Once in a while it comes out. I mean the moon. You can see it now. I really can't turn on the light. Please forgive me. This house has reached its dying age. Please listen, and you will understand everything.”