Shifu, You'll Do Anything For a Laugh

pressure I'm under. Once the peasants got their land, they saw themselves as free men, who were also free to have as many kids as they wanted. One after another, that's all they did, at least until they got the sons they wanted.”
    “Don't we have a one-child policy?”
    He smiled a wry smile. “One child? Two kids, three kids, four, even five, I've seen it all. One-point-one billion people? That's a laugh. I'll bet we're up to one-point-two by now. There isn't a township anywhere that doesn't have at least two or three hundred unregistered kids. And they'll all rot right here in China!”
    “I thought they could be fined.”
    “That's right. Two thousand for the second child, four thousand for the third, and eight thousand for the fourth. And so what? People with money don't care if you fine them. You're from East Village, aren't you? Do you know Two-Toothed Wu? He's got four kids. No land, a run-down three-room house, one big cook pot, a water jug, and a rickety three-legged table. So we fine him, and he says, ‘I don't have any money, so I'll give you kids instead. You want one? Take one. You want two? Take two. They're all girls anyway’ So tell me, what are we supposed to do?”
    “Forced sterilizations … hasn't that been done?” I asked cautiously
    “It sure has. It's the hottest policy these days. But those people can smell us out better than a hound dog. As soon as they're tipped off, they light out for the northeast, where they cool their heels for a year. By the time they're back in the spring, they've got another kid to raise. If I had access to reinforcements, shit, I'd be in fine shape! Pricks that'll do stuff like that aren't human. I don't dare go out walking at night anymore. I'm afraid of getting mugged.”
    My dog-bit leg twitched.
    He laughed contemptuously.
    I could see the hound dog through the open door; it was sprawled comfortably and, apparently, safely on the steps. Department Head Xia of the Supply Department probably didn't have a gun at his house.
    “What about the girl I found?”
    “There's nothing I can do,” the dark-skinned man said. “You found her, so she's yours. Take her home and raise her.”
    “What kind of attitude is that, Chief? She's not mine, so why should I raise her?”
    “You don't expect me to raise her, do you? The Township Government isn't an orphanage.”
    “Not me, I can't raise her.”
    “Then what do you suggest? The government didn't force you to take the kid home.”
    “Then ITI put her back where I found her.”
    “That's up to you. But if she starves to death in the sunflower field, or is torn apart by dogs, you'll be charged with infanticide.”
    I choked, then coughed as tears welled up in my eyes.
    He looked at me sympathetically and poured some tea in a glass coated with half an inch of crud. I sipped the tea and gazed at him.
    “Go ask around,” he said. “Maybe there's a widow or widower somewhere who's willing to take in a child. If not, then just take her home and raise her yourself. Do you have family in the village? Including a child? If so, and you take this one into your home, that'll make two kids. We'll have to fine you two thousand.”
    “Damn you!” I jerked my glass of tea up into the air, but then laid it down gently. With tears clouding my eyes, I said, “Tell me, Chief, does justice exist anywhere in this world?”
    He just grinned, showing his strong, yellow front teeth.
    My leg itched terribly, and when I saw drops of liquid on the floor, I shuddered. I figured it had to be rabies. Even my gums began to itch, and I had a powerful urge to bite somebody. From behind me, the dark-skinned man said, “Don't worry, somebody will take her. And we'll help any way we can.”
    All I wanted to do was take a bite out of him!
    Six days passed. The baby went through the sack of powdered milk, had six healthy bowel movements, and peed a dozen or more times into four diapers I'd begged from my wife, changing them as often as necessary. I must say that she was reluctant to “lend” me the diapers, since she was saving them for our future son. After washing and folding them neatly, she'd stacked them in a chest like handkerchiefs. She did not hide the look of deep disapproval when she handed them to me.
    The baby had an enviable appetite and a strong pair of lungs, as her cries proved. She didn't seem at all like a newborn baby. I hunkered down next to her as she lay in the winnowing basket and fed her from the bottle,