“You speak directly. The past few years I feel I’ve become more rarified. Look at that patch of reedy ground ahead. Ida and I made love there. A mouth opened up in the ground, crowds of water snakes poured out and wound around our bodies. My neck was looped tightly, I couldn’t feel the slightest pleasure.”
As Reagan spoke the lake water began to ripple, and he realized the embankment beneath him was also shaking slightly. He couldn’t help being a little worried. But when he stealthily sized up Jin Xia, he saw him writing in a little notebook, his head lowered.
“What are you writing?”
“I’m calculating the surface area of the newly bought farms.”
“You haven’t been listening?”
“I’ve been listening. You often talk about this.”
“But this is the first time I’m telling it to you!” Reagan was disappointed.
“That’s not right, how could it be the first time? You’ve forgotten. I like Ida, too. But without her, what can you do? You are fortunate to have her. I knew early on that Ida was the master of this farm.”
Jin Xia was always able to say the things Reagan most wanted to hear. Reagan called his words “a spirit-enchanting potion.” If it weren’t for Jin Xia, Reagan didn’t know how he could have suffered through such days.
“But she didn’t expect to stay here.”
“Oh, you’re mistaken, Mr. Reagan, you always make this mistake. You forget again, this is Ida, who escaped from the landslide.”
The afternoon sun shone on the lake water, shining on the reeds. An occasional water bird flew past with a sharp cry. The place now seemed incomparably ancient. In Reagan’s mind a fresh memory appeared. In this memory a young Jin Xia carried Reagan’s little brother, running in the wind. His long, thin legs seemed to rise up into the air. He was wearing a strange black-and-white gown, and looked both Chinese and Japanese. Reagan almost let the question leave his mouth: “Jin Xia, where are you really from?” But what he actually asked was: “So how large is the farm?”
“The calculations differ a good deal, Mr. Reagan, sometimes by a multiple. However, this is normal. Surveys of the surface area can’t be depended on, don’t you agree?”
Reagan grew conscious of the reality that his farm could not be measured. He thought Jin Xia might also be conscious of this, so why would he still go to the trouble of taking measurements? One time Reagan woke from a dream and walked into the woods, where he saw his workers, all wearing straw hats, sitting in the moonlight like statues. He passed by these unmoving figures and immediately sensed the plane attained in their minds, one that took the rubber tree forest as its starting point, a limitlessly extending open sky. He rudely called out: “Ida.” Immediately someone answered him, but the voice answering was a man’s. Watching the groups of people like wooden statues, Reagan was afraid. He stepped back to walk out of the woods, wanting to break away from the feeling of stagnation they gave him. But the rubber tree forest was possessed. Even if he turned in a familiar direction, he could not reach the edge of the woods. On that occasion he exhausted himself to the point of collapse.
“Mr. Reagan, as I see it, as the farm grows larger, our hearts grow peaceful.”
Jin Xia stood up, saying he needed to go manage a piece of work. Reagan saw that as he took a branch in the road, two fellows scurried out from the woods and propelled him away. Reagan wanted to shout but couldn’t because he realized the scene taking place before his eyes was false. After a while he gradually recovered a sense of reality. He noticed a stain on his coat. He’d worn this gray-green garment for a long time. Ever since Martin had swept away his clothing, he’d had nothing else to change into. It all seemed so absurd. As the farm grew larger, the work of measuring had more reason to permanently continue. This was Jin Xia’s scheme.
There were small birds — he didn’t know their name — hidden in the clump of reeds. The number of them surprised him. As he passed the spot, small objects like locusts sprang from the grass into the air and flew high up into the clouds. He opened his mouth, making stupid “ah! ah!” sounds. He looked back at the ground, where everywhere was a mass of crows. Clearly the crows had just flown in from somewhere else. Where? From the city? He’d heard someone say that in the city the balcony of every house was packed full with crows, wet dripping crows.
Someone was calling him. It was Ali, panting as she came over. She said he might be drawn into a lawsuit. She’d heard that Jin Xia used improper methods to manage the farm.
“What does he mean to do?” Ali said, as if she were in the dark.
But Reagan saw that she wasn’t really nervous. It seemed she was still looking forward to a certain event. He thought that this was a common mentality of people on the farm, they were all looking forward to a certain event.
“I don’t entirely believe this. Is it a ruse, is he hurting himself to win us over?” Reagan said.
“Yes, is it a ruse?” Ali repeated his words excitedly, a light shining in her eyes.
“Jin Xia is a strange, unpredictable man.”
When Reagan opened the curtains and looked outside, a woman appeared in his field of vision. This happened two days in succession. She was Jin Xia’s wife. On the farm, covered everywhere with wind-blown sand, rumors flew in the air. Already several people had come to tell him rumors about a public sale. Already Jin Xia had avoided Reagan for days. Now his wife was digging in the soil next to the road. What was she digging up? Ali entered.
“She’s already dug a lot of deep pits beside the road. She says she wants to examine the composition of the soil. This woman is a sorceress. I’m not afraid of her husband, I’m only afraid of her. Why would she examine the composition of the soil? She wants to dig down to the roots of things.”
Reagan was surprised and turned around to question her, but Ali had already gone, taking his dirty clothes with her. Ali’s talk made his spine run cold. For many years he’d seen his life as a perfect whole. This outlook was now thoroughly destroyed. Over there, halfway up a mountain, two pairs of eagle eyes observed the farm’s fragile existence. Once they showed their strength, everything would return to a savage era. Despite the distance, the sound of the woman’s digging in the earth still carried to where Reagan stood. She seemed to be digging at the foundation of his house. Even the glass in the windows trembled slightly. Reagan suddenly understood why when he went to her home she acted as if she despised him. Perhaps in her eyes, he was only an idiot. What did she see within layer on layer of soil? Her manner of grabbing tight, of not letting go, left Reagan with an indistinct feeling of hopelessness. He said to himself, over and over, “Ida, Ida, we’re through.”
This family was laying out schemes far in advance. Reagan’s thoughts couldn’t capture what they had planned. His heart leapt madly in his chest, as the hoe she raised resentfully seemed filled with hate, and stroke by stroke dug into his heart. He heard someone outside his door say, “Manila, Manila, waves from the sea flow into the distance.” He ran over to open the door. Ali was standing outside.
“Is something wrong?” he asked her stiffly.
“I was worried that you might need something, so I’ve been waiting here.” Her face seemed to redden, but it might have been the light playing a trick.
“Just now someone was talking outside the door.”
“Impossible, I’m the only one here. Look, am I interfering too much? If she keeps digging like this, won’t she control every last bit of the farm? After all, we are old residents, we should be respected.”
“Why would you concern yourself with what that lunatic does?” he said, ill-temperedly. He closed the door in her face, irritated.