Red Sorghum

screaming little boy under one arm and holding his pistol in the other hand, Granddad swaggered up and down the granite-paved street in front of the official residence. The shrewd, competent enforcer, Little Yan, pursued him with county soldiers, shouting and shooting from a safe distance. Granddad spun around and put his pistol to the boy’s temple. ‘You there, Yan!’ he shouted. ‘Get your ass back there and tell that old dog Nine Dreams Cao that he can have his son back for ten thousand silver dollars. If I don’t get it within three days, this kidnap is going to end with a dead kid!’
    ‘Old Yu,’ Little Yan asked genially, ‘where do we make the exchange?’
    ‘In the middle of the Black Water River bridge.’
    Granddad and his two men filed out of town, the boy still under his arm. He had white teeth and red lips, and though his features were contorted by all that crying, he was still a handsome boy. ‘Stop crying,’ Granddad told him. ‘I’m your foster-dad, and I’m taking you to see your foster-mom!’ He really started crying then, which tried Granddad’s patience. Waving his short, glistening sword under the boy’s nose, he threatened, ‘I said no more crying. If you keep it up, I’ll slice off your ear!’ The boy stopped crying immediately and was carried along between the two younger bandits with a stunned look on his face.
    When they were about five li out of town, Granddad heard hoofbeats behind him. Spinning around to look, he saw acloud of dust, raised by galloping horses. Granddad ordered the two bandits over to the side of the road, where the three of them huddled together with their hostage, a gun at his head.
    The horsemen, led by the shrewd Little Yan, circled Granddad and his men, then headed towards Northeast Gaomi Township, a trail of dust in their wake.
    Momentarily confused, Granddad quickly realised what was happening. ‘Damn!’ he said, slapping his thigh. ‘We’re wasting our time with this!’
    His two young accomplices asked stupidly, ‘Where are they going?’
    Without stopping to answer, Granddad fired at the retreating horsemen; but they were out of range, and his bullets disappeared into the dust.
    Little Yan led his men to our village in Northeast Gaomi Township and straight to our house. He had a speedy horse and he knew the way. Meanwhile, Granddad was running as fast as his legs would carry him. Nine Dreams Cao’s son, used to a life of ease and luxury, managed only a li or so before he collapsed. ‘Finish him off and be done with it,’ one of the younger bandits suggested. ‘He’s too much trouble.’
    ‘Little Yan’s going after my son,’ Granddad said, as he picked up Young Master Cao, hoisted him over his shoulder, and took off at a trot. When the younger bandits urged him to speed up, he said, ‘We’re already too late, so there’s no need to go any faster. Everything will be all right as long as this little bastard stays alive.’
    Back in the village, Little Yan and his men burst into the house, grabbed Grandma and Father, and tied them onto a horse.
    ‘You blind dog!’ Grandma railed. ‘I’m Magistrate Cao’s foster-daughter!’
    With a sinister smile, Little Yan said, ‘His foster-daughter is precisely who he told us to nab.’
    Little Yan and his horsemen met up with Granddad on the road. Hostages on both sides had guns at their heads as they passed so close they could have reached out and touched each other; but no one dared make a move.
    Granddad looked up at Father, who was held tightly in LittleYan’s arms, and at Grandma, whose hands were tied behind her back. ‘Zhan’ao,’ she said to Granddad, who had a dejected look on his face, ‘let my foster-dad’s son go, so they’ll set us free.’
    Granddad squeezed the boy’s hand tightly. He knew he’d have to let him go sooner or later, but not just now.
    When it was time to exchange the hostages at the wooden bridge over the Black Water River, Granddad mobilised nearly all the bandits in Northeast Gaomi Township, over 230 of them. Their weapons loaded and ready, they lay or sat around the northern bridgehead.
    At midmorning, the magistrate’s soldiers arrived, winding their way down from the southern dike of the river. Four of them carried a sedan chair that rocked above them. When they reached the southern bridgehead, Nine Dreams Cao greeted Granddad. With a smile on his face he said, ‘Zhan’ao, how could the husband of my foster-daughter kidnap his own nephew?