The Garlic Ballads

tell no one. Their frolicking ended, Winter-born’s father said, “I have to go till the field on the southern slope.” “Go ahead,” Winter-born’s mother said. And he did, shutting the door behind him. The teacher crumpled into the rut around the millstone as Winter-born’s mother rushed into the room. “Teacher, get out of here, fast, while Winter-born’s father is out in the field!” And he did. Several days later, Winter-born said to the teacher, “Master, my mother says she’s been thinking about you again.” The teacher grabbed the boy’s hand and smacked it with his pointer. “You littie bastard!” he cursed. “Have you run out of flour again?”

    Gao Ma laughed loud and long. “Now there’s a teacher who knows what it means to suffer!”
    “There’s truth to the saying that warmth and comfort give rise to lurid desires, but hunger and cold produce thoughts of larceny,” Old Man Wang said. “Thieves and robbers ran wild a few years back, but there aren’t as many now as there once were. Adultery cases, on the other hand, are way up. If you’d been good and hungry, my boy, Jinju wouldn’t have a big belly today.”
    An embarrassed Gao Ma said, “Grandpa Three, with us it’s love. Sooner or later we’ll get married.”
    The old-timer shook his head. “My boy, there’s a dark cloud over your head. Blood will be spilled within a hundred days. Be careful, and stay indoors whenever possible.”
    I don’t believe in that mumbo-jumbo,” Gao Ma said.
    “You must believe,” Old Man Wang said cryptically. “Two suns appeared in the sky this spring. A bad sign. Over New Year’s I watched some TV at Gao Zhileng’s, and the man—or maybe it was a woman—-on the screen sang a song that went, A great fire, a great fire, a great fire burns a corner of the Northeast.’ That was a bad sign, too.”
    Gao Ma rolled over. Everything the old man said has come true, Gao Ma reflected. I got into trouble, and there was a forest fire in the Northeast. With someone sick at home, it’s easy to become a believer. There’s more to Old Man Wang than i thought.
    “Well, back to the crops,” Old Man Wang said. “We can talk some more the next time the well dries up.”

    I was happy back then, Gao Ma recalled, and when he thought about the teacher turning the millstone, he nearly laughed all over again. There was half a meter of water at the bottom of the well. I scooped it up for my garlic crop. The young shoots were green under the full moon, which seemed smaller and brighter. The air was fresh and clean, the garlic shoots sparkled like quicksilver, and silvery water slithered down the irrigation troughs. I had confidence back then. I placed my hopes on the crop. To me that garlic was everything. Now it’s all gone. I have nothing.

    “That dog whelp at the weights and measures office took my scale.”
    “No cursing allowed,” the policeman demanded.
    “He said my scale wasn’t accurate, and when I opened my mouth to protest, he crushed the thing under his heel. Then he fined me ten yuan. All I could think was, the price of garlic dropped from sixty fen a pound to twenty, and finally all the way down to three. The agreements we signed with other counties to purchase our garlic were canceled, and when buyers came, they were turned back by the supply and marketing co-op. All to make things hard on garlic farmers. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got, and that’s when I jumped up on the wagon and started shouting slogans. The first was ‘Down with corrupt officials!’ and the other was ‘Down with bureaucrats!’ Find me guilty of whatever you want. It’s up to you. I’m all alone, so it doesn’t matter one way or the other. Cut off my head or put a bullet in it, even bury me alive if you want. It’s all the same to me. I hate you dog-bastard officials! All you know how to do is trample the people! I hate you!”

    “Time for a smoke break, Grandpa Three,” Gao Ma said.
    Old Man Wang edged the pail up alongside the well with his foot and squatted down.
    The moon was so bright and clear the whole world seemed lighted up.
    “Got your garhc crop fertilized, Grandpa Three?”
    “Not this time. To hell with it,” Old Man Wang said blundy. “I don’t trust those money grubbers at the supply and marketing co-op. How do I know what they put in their fertilizer?”
    “You re being too cautious. They can’t adulterate chemical fertilizers.”
    “Like they say, there’s