Life and Death are Wearing Me Out

carrying the train of a bride as she enters the church and staring wide-eyed at the scene before him.
    “I guess we ought to give your son what he wants, don’t you think. . . .”
    As his tears flowed freely, he parted the hair he was holding, like a man walking through the hanging branches of a weeping willow, not stopping until he’d reached his destination. Huzhu knelt on the bed to await his arrival.
    The scene was replayed several dozen times, until my friend said he would like to make love facing her. She replied in a voice devoid of feeling:
    “No, this is how dogs do it.”

56

Monkey Show in the Square
    Shortly after the first day of 2000, two humans and one monkey appeared in the square in front of the Gaomi train station. I’m sure, dear reader, that you have already guessed that the monkey was the latest reincarnation of Ximen Nao, following the donkey, the ox, the pig, and the dog. Naturally, it was a male monkey, and not one of those cute little things we’re so used to seeing. It was a large rhesus monkey, whose coat was a dull green-gray, sort of like dry moss. His eyes, far apart and sunk deep into their sockets, gave off a frightful glare. His ears lay flat against his head like fungi, his nostrils flared upward, and his open mouth, seemingly without an upper lip, showed nothing but teeth; that alone was enough to frighten anyone off. He was dressed in a red sleeveless jacket, turning a savage monkey into a comical one. Truth is, there’s no reason to call him either savage or comical, since a monkey in human clothes is just that and nothing more.
    A chain around the monkey’s neck was attached to the wrist of a young woman. I don’t need to tell you, dear reader, that the young woman in question is our long-lost Pang Fenghuang, and that the young man with her was the long-lost Ximen Huan. Both were wearing filthy down coats over tattered blue jeans and dirty knockoff sneakers. Fenghuang had dyed her hair a golden yellow and plucked her eyebrows, leaving only thin arcs. She wore a gold ring in her right nostril. Ximen Huan had dyed his hair red and had a silver ring above his right eye.
    Gaomi had come a long way by then, though it still didn’t compare favorably with the big cities. There’s a saying that goes: “The bigger the woods, the more diverse the bird population; the smaller the woods, the fewer the birds.” These two strange birds and their ferocious monkey attracted an immediate crowd of curious gawkers, as well as at least one busybody who ran to the local police station to report what was going on.
    The crowd instinctively formed a circle around Ximen Huan and Pang Fenghuang, which is what they wanted. He pulled a bronze gong out of his backpack and struck it — bong bong — which attracted even more people and tightened the circle. One sharp-eyed person in the crowd recognized the youngsters, but all the others were staring wide-eyed at the monkey and couldn’t have cared less who his handlers were.
    While Ximen Huan rhythmically beat the gong, Fenghuang took the chain off her wrist to give the monkey more room to maneuver, and then removed a straw hat, a tiny carrying pole, two tiny baskets, and a tobacco pipe from her backpack, laying them on the ground beside her. Then, to the rhythm of Ximen Huan’s gong, she began to sing in a raspy but melodious voice. The monkey took that as his cue to stroll around the square. It was a stumbling gait, since his legs were bowed; his tail dragged on the ground behind him as he glanced all around.
    The bronze gong rings out bong bong bong
I tell monkey to do nothing wrong
He received the Tao on Mount Emei
And returned home as king of his trade, truly strong
He’ll perform for our countrymen
Who will pay for my song
    “Move back! Clear the way!” Newly assigned deputy station chief Lan Kaifang elbowed his way through the crowd. He was born to be a cop. In two years on the force he had acquitted himself so well that at the unprecedented young age of twenty he’d been picked as deputy chief of the train station police substation, one of the most crime-ridden areas in town. It was a ringing affirmation of his talent and dedication.
    Be an old man with a straw hat and pipe
Stroll round the square, hands in back, walking along
    As she sang, Fenghuang tossed the straw hat to the monkey, who nimbly put it on his head. Next she tossed him the pipe; he jumped up and put it in his mouth. That done, he clasped his hands behind his