Life and Death are Wearing Me Out

get excited about a pig in a tree?” His words, unfortunately, were drowned out by the girls’ screams; no one heard him. Then he said, “There’s a wild boar in the South American rain forest that builds its nest in the crotch of a tree. They’re mammals that have feathers and lay eggs that hatch in seven days!” Once again his words were drowned out by the girls’ screams, and no one heard him. All of a sudden I found myself wanting to become friends with this guy. “Pal,” I wanted to say, “as long as you understand me, when I have the time one day, I’ll treat you to a few drinks.” But that was drowned out by the girls’ screams too.
    The thoroughly delighted girls came running toward me, led by Ximen Jinlong. I waved with my left hoof. “How do you do?” I said. They didn’t understand me, of course, but they knew it was a friendly gesture. But then they doubled up laughing. “What’s so funny? Behave yourselves!” I know, I know, those giggling girls still didn’t understand me. Crinkling his brow, Jinlong said, “This one’s got a trick or two up his sleeve. I hope he’ll climb that tree again at tomorrow’s gathering.” He opened the gate to my pen and said to the girls behind him, “Come on, girls, we’ll start with this one.” He walked up to the tree and scratched my belly with an experienced hand. It felt so good I could have died right then and there. “Pig Sixteen,” he said, “we’re going to give you a bath and a haircut. When we’re finished, you’ll be the handsomest pig in the world. I hope you’ll cooperate and set a good example for the rest of them.” He turned and gave the high-sign to four militiamen behind him who ran up and — you guessed it — each grabbed one of my legs. They were strong and, since they were used to treating people roughly, hurt me as they pulled me down out of the tree. “You pricks!” I cursed angrily. “Instead of lighting incense in the temple, you’re destroying the idol!” My curses went in one ear and out the other as they dragged me on my back up to the cook pot filled with salt water and tossed me in! Some deep-seated fear gave me strength I didn’t know I had, and the liquor I’d consumed turned to cold sweat. A thought hit me like a hammer: I recalled that before the new butcher law took effect, pork was eaten with the skin still on, and pigs scheduled for slaughter were tossed into just this sort of pot to soften up their bristles, which were shaved away before their heads and feet were cut off, their bellies slit open, and they were hung on a rack to be sold. The second my feet hit the bottom of the pot, I jumped out so fast I scared them all. Just my bad luck to jump out of one pot and into another, and this time the warm water swallowed me right up. I can’t tell you how good that felt. It broke my will. I didn’t have the strength to jump out this time. The girls surrounded the pot and started scrubbing me with coarse brushes under Ximen Jinlong’s direction. I moaned, my eyelids drooped, and I just about fell asleep. When they were finished, the militiamen lifted me out of the pot, and when the cool air hit my body, I was sluggish and light as a feather. So the girls started in with their scissors, trimming the hair on my head and then brushing the bristles on my back. Ximen Jinlong thought it would be nice to cut the hair on both sides in the shape of plum blossoms, but they wound up shaving it all off. There was nothing Jinlong could do about that except add slogans with red paint: “Mate for the revolution” on the left side, “Bring benefits to the people” on the right. Then he dressed up the slogans by adding plum blossoms and sunflowers with red and yellow paint, turning me into a sort of bulletin board. When he was finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, wearing a mischievous smile that couldn’t cover up the look of self-satisfaction. Everyone was shouting and calling me a great-looking pig.
    If they could have beautified all the pigs on the farm the way they did me, then every one of them would have been a work of art. That would have been hard. Merely bathing them in salt water was out of the question, especially since the day of the on-site conference was rapidly approaching. Absent any obvious solution, Jinlong had to adjust his plans. What he came up with was to draw some simple but artistic samples of facial makeup, which he gave to twenty clever and skillful young men and