Life and Death are Wearing Me Out

the meeting over to Director Luo, who will announce the names.
    My brother hopped down from the platform to give Assistant Director Luo a boost up. But Luo declined the use of the platform and stood some five yards away from the bonfire, where half his face glowed and the other half was in shadows; he took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, shook it open, and began to read in a low, husky voice:
    I hereby declare that Lan Jinlong is chairman of the Gaomi County Milky Way Commune Ximen Village Production Brigade Revolutionary Committee, with Huang Tong and Ma Liangcai as deputy vice chairmen . . .
    A cloud of thick smoke was blown into Assistant Director Luo’s face, forcing him to move out of the way. Without reading any more, he handed the paper to my brother, said good-bye and shook hands, then turned on his heel and walked off. His actions had my brother at a momentary loss. His lips parted as he watched the man climb into the cab of the tractor, which started up, turned around, and headed back the way it had come, leaving a large indentation in the ground. We saw the tractor headlights light up the street like a bright alley, while the red taillights peered out like the eyes of a fox. . . .
    On the third evening following the establishment of the revolutionary committee, the loudspeaker mounted in the branches of the apricot tree came to life, blaring “The East Is Red.” When the anthem ended, a woman’s voice broadcast news of the county The lead item was an enthusiastic message of congratulations to the first village-level revolutionary committee in the county. The Gaomi County Milky Way Commune Ximen Village Production Brigade Revolutionary Committee was established, she announced, adding that the leading group of the Ximen Village Production Brigade Revolutionary Committee, including Lan Jinlong, Huang Tong, and Ma Liangcai, embodied the “Three-in-One” revolutionary organizational principle. The masses looked up at the source of the announcement and made no comment, although they were inwardly showering my brother with admiration: so young to be a chairman, and if that wasn’t enough, he was being assisted by his future father-in-law, Huang Tong, and Ma Liangcai, who was so tight with my sister.
    The next day a youngster in a green uniform came puffing his way into our compound with a stack of newspapers and letters on his back. He was the new postman, an innocent-looking fellow whose eyes shimmered with curiosity. After laying down the newspapers and letters, he took a little wooden box out of his bag and handed it, along with a notebook and pen, to my brother to sign. This is from Vice Chairman Chang, he said to Huzhu after reading the inscription. I knew he was talking about Braying Jackass, Little Chang, an exemplary rebel who, in his role as vice chairman of the County Revolutionary Committee, was in charge of propaganda and the arts, as I overheard him tell my sister, who reacted to the news with what appeared to be mixed emotions. I knew she had strong feelings for Little Chang, but his meteoric rise in stature created an obstacle. It was certainly possible for love to develop between a talented student in an arts academy and a pretty girl with a peasant background, but there was no chance that a leading county-level cadre in his twenties would ever actually marry a peasant girl, no matter how pretty or fetching she might be. Of course my brother was aware of her feelings, and I heard him urge her to lower her sights a bit. Ma Liangcai was a royalist at first. Why then was he named vice chairman? Can you really not see what he had in mind? Was he the one who appointed him? my sister asked stubbornly My brother nodded. Does he want me to marry Ma Liangcai? Isn’t it obvious? Did he tell you that in so many words? Did he have to? Is an important person supposed to put all his intentions into words? You have to figure things out for yourself. No, my sister insisted. I want to hear it from him. If he tells me to marry Ma Liangcai, I’ll come home and marry him! By this time in their conversation, my sister’s eyes were brimming with tears.
    My brother opened the box with rusty scissors and took out some old newspaper print, two sheets of white window paper, and a layer of crumpled yellow crepe paper. Beneath it all was a piece of red satin. He unfolded it to reveal a ceramic Chairman Mao badge as big as the mouth of a teacup. He held it in the palm of his hand as tears slid down his