Wumei took out a sheet of paper and began cutting right away. Mrs. Yun looked on tensely.
She cut out a centipede, and on the centipede’s tiny foot she pasted even smaller centipedes. Twirling the scissors quickly, she explained her work: “These are eyes.”
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Mrs. Yun left. She went back to bed and fell asleep after a while.
=
The day that Mr. Yun carried hemp sandals to the market, the weird bird didn’t come over. But Youlin did. He spoke with Mrs. Yun at the courtyard wall.
“My business has been a little slow lately, but it still isn’t bad,” he said.
“What exactly is going on with the carts on the marsh? One has to see that kind of thing to believe it,” Mrs. Yun said.
“That’s too hard for you. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be there in the middle of the night. Even a man like me is sometimes afraid.”
“But you still stay there?”
“What I want to see hasn’t happened yet.”
“When you lived on Dragon Street, were you aware of our Plum Village? Back then, had you been to this marsh?”
“Dragon Street? No. The place where I used to live was ‘Yuegu Street.’ It was in the suburbs.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t you Youlin?”
“You can say that I am.” He was a little down in the mouth as he looked at her.
“You yourself said you used to repair tires.”
“I did repair tires.”
“Why are you so laid back?!” Mrs. Yun howled furiously.
“I am a little laid back.”
Mrs. Yun watched him lower his head and leave. She couldn’t help feeling afraid. She looked up at the sky; it was yellow. Giving it some more thought, she realized that the frightening thing had occurred about fifteen miles away; her home should be safe. But she still felt perplexed and alarmed. The handsome repairman who formerly lived on Dragon Street — the object of girls’ longing — no longer existed. The one she had run into was another person entirely. And she had become ludicrously involved with this other person. Probably the owl had flown over here from the marsh. But why was no one else afraid of it? Why was she the only one? Sometimes, she wanted to blot out the incident in the marsh, but that wouldn’t do. Her family members and the phenomena all around pointed that way, as if they all wanted that incident to be pinned in her heart forever.
Wumei had pasted a centipede on the courtyard gate: Youlin must have seen it. The purple centipede had been chopped into two parts in the middle; there was only a threadlike connection between them. Had Wumei pasted it there for him to see? Could he possibly be seducing Wumei?
“Wumei, you work too late,” Mrs. Yun said.
“I know, but I want to save money. People want my goods now, so I’d better make more of them. I’m afraid there won’t be an opportunity later on.”
“What are you saving money for?”
“To go far away. Isn’t that what you and Daddy did?”
Dazed, Mrs. Yun looked at the blocked wall. She felt as if her heart had been hollowed out.
“Do you want to go to the marsh?”
“No. I’ve been there once. I want to go to a place where I’ve never been.”
The beautiful Wumei held her head high, like a swan swimming past the wall.
Now only Mrs. Yun was left at home. The village was also quiet. There was only one old codger smoking as he sat under a tree. He was the Uncle Weng who had been dropped into the ditch. Uncle Weng was gesturing in the air with his pipe, as if arguing with someone. Five hens were bathing in the mud and dust at the wall; they looked very happy. Mrs. Yun made quick work of feeding the pigs, sweeping the courtyard, and mopping the floors in the house. Neither Wumei nor Mr. Yun would be home for lunch, and she had nothing more that she had to do. She stood distracted for a while in the courtyard. Then she couldn’t keep from taking another look at the mulberry tree: the owl still hadn’t returned. Uncle Weng was still sitting a little farther away. Mrs. Yun thought, Maybe he’s also waiting for the evil bird.
Mrs. Yun went back to her room and sat down to stitch soles for cloth shoes. But she still felt uneasy. She felt that the peaceful phenomenon was nothing but an illusion. Recently, everything had changed irreversibly. Her Wumei was scheming to go far away. Of course this was a blow, but in her heart she also harbored a hope: maybe because of this her daughter would have a good future and be able to live the life she wanted. She thought, Probably she met someone from a certain place through her papercuts, and so she began preparing to go away. After all, she wasn’t an uncontaminated village child. Her ideas were very complex. As she thought of this, she felt proud of her daughter, even though their relationship had recently been a little strained. She looked at the papercut centipede on the window. This was a particularly large one. She didn’t know where Wumei had found such a large piece of glossy paper. The largest one at the market was one foot square, but this one was one foot two inches and deep purple. At first sight, this lifelike centipede was a little frightening. The most unsettling things were the little centipedes on the centipede’s foot. For Wumei to have cut such a design, she must be harboring devilish ideas.
“Mrs. Yun! Mrs. Yun!”
Uncle Weng was calling her! Mrs. Yun rushed out of the house. At a glance, she saw that a large part of the courtyard wall had collapsed. She called to Uncle Weng and asked where he was, and then ran over to the gap in the wall to look out. But Uncle Weng was nowhere to be seen. Where had he been when he called out to her? Taking another look at the demolished earthen wall, she saw two tracks in the mud and dust. A cart had rushed past, rammed this large gap in her courtyard wall, and then had disappeared without a trace. This person must despise her family in order to have done such a thing. Who hated her family? It seemed no one did. Mrs. Yun tidied up the mess with a spade and dustpan. Suddenly, she thought of something: it was Uncle Weng who had called out to her. He must know who had been pushing the cart! She put the spade down and set out for Uncle Weng’s house.
Weng’s wife was drying peppers in the courtyard. When she saw Mrs. Yun, she didn’t hail her, but just stared at her.
“Is Uncle Weng home? We’ve had an accident at our house. The courtyard wall has been pushed over. I heard Uncle Weng calling me and ran out to look, but I didn’t see him.”
“He isn’t home. Tell me frankly: Are you guilty of having done something very bad?” Her gaze was murderous.
“Me? No. Does this have something to do with what I did? Maybe the person accidentally rammed into my wall and then ran off,” Mrs. Yun said in bewilderment.
“Hunh. Let’s hope so.”
Distracted, Mrs. Yun went back to the courtyard and continued shoveling the mud and dust with her spade. Suddenly, her gaze halted at something in the pile of dust. A large-bodied fledgling that didn’t yet have feathers was struggling clumsily. Ah, a baby owl! It was inconceivable that the owl lived inside the earthen wall. Mrs. Yun bent down and shifted it to a heap of dried leaves at one side. The little thing sorrowfully swung its bald head back and forth and made a hoarse sisi sound. Leaning on the iron shovel, Mrs. Yun watched it and quickly associated this with something else. If this little thing had emerged from her courtyard wall, then had the large scary one emerged from here, too? More and more of these dark connected ideas crossed her mind, and she felt she was going crazy. No, she couldn’t cruelly kill this fledgling, but she didn’t want to raise it, either. Then, just let it live and die on its own. Probably its mother would come and feed it. Flustered and unable to go on spading the mud and dust, Mrs. Yun went home.
She sieved and cooked the rice. She thought and thought and still was uneasy, so she went back to the courtyard to check on the baby owl.