The Garlic Ballads

which they forged an unveering path—at least that’s how she felt. In her mind, an enormous, bronze-colored sun was sinking slowly in a shrouded sky at the tip of a chaotic universe. A cluster of unfamiliar words leapt into the air—she neither understood nor recalled where she’d seen them before—and vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind the stately presence of heaven and earth. The jute bent gendy in the cool dusk winds, then waved lighdy before slowly righting itself; it was like a scarlet sea. She and her man had been transformed into fish that had forgotten how to swim.
    Jute, all you jute bushes, you re in his way, and in mine. Your green lips pout and your crafty, ebony eyes squint; you laugh with a strange mirthfulness, and you stretch your legs—smiling faces, treacherous limbs.
    Gao Ma stumbled and fell headlong to the ground, and as his body broke her fall, she felt the jute give beneath her. A sea of it swelled and crashed over them like tidal waves, swallowing them completely. Not daring to open her eyes, she tried to will herself into a state of torpor. The sounds of the world were pushed far into the distance, until all her senses were filled to bursting with the tenderness of jute.

2.

    The roar of waves woke her, breaking over her persistently until she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Gao Ma’s gaunt face, framed in the rich orange rays of sunlight. His face was purple, his lips parched and cracked; there were dark circles around his eyes, and his hair looked like the wiry fur of a street mutt. Shuddering at the sight, she quickly became aware that her hand was in the tight grip of his, and as she gazed into his eyes, she felt as if a total stranger were grasping her hand. A sense of terror that swept through her was invaded by faint lurkings of guilt, the recognition of which further terrified her. She pulled her hand free and shrank from him, until her path of retreat was blocked by a tall and unyielding wall of jute. Golden slivers of sunlight seeped through the interstices of the jute wall, and the talon-shaped leaves quivered in some secret sign.
    It was Father’s voice, old and raspy: “Jinju … Jinju …” She sat up rigidly and grabbed Gao Mas hand. “Jinju … Jinju …” Elder Brother’s voice, shrill and flustered. Their calls glided over the tips of jute bushes and continued on toward the horizon. Gao Ma sat up, his eyes round and alert, like those of a cornered dog.
    They held their breath and listened intently. The rustling of bushes and the sounds of heavy breathing at the sandbar to the north deepened the stillness of dusk. She could hear her own heartbeat.
    “Jinju … Jinju … Jinju … Jinju! You little whore, you’re doing this to ruin me!” ?
    She could almost see her father crying. Releasing Gao Ma’s hand, she stood up with tears in her eyes.
    Father’s shouts were, if anything, drearier than ever. She called out just before Gao Ma clamped his hand over her mouth. The hand reeked of garlic—she clawed at it, her muffled shouts oozing out between the fingers. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and began dragging her away. She clawed at his head. As he sucked in his breath, the hand covering her mouth fell. Something wet and sticky emerged from under her fingernails as they dug into his scalp, and she watched trickles of golden-red blood appear at his hairline and flow into his eyebrows.
    She threw her arms around his neck. “You … what is it?” She was crying.
    He touched his forehead with his palm. “You scraped off a scab where the stool hit me.”
    Laying her head on his shoulder, she sobbed softly. “Elder Brother Gao Ma, it’s all my fault … I did this to you.”
    “It’s not your fault. I asked for it.” He paused. “Jinju, I see things more clearly now. You go back home.” He squatted down and held his head in his hands.
    “No … Elder Brother …” She knelt down and wrapped her arms around his knees. “My mind’s made up,” she said. “I’ll follow you anywhere, even if we have to beg to get by.”

3.

    Night set in as the sun sank beneath the horizon. The jute tips were capped by an ethereal green mist, through which a dozen or so fist-sized stars peeked. Jinju twisted her ankle and fell. “Gao Ma,” she gasped. “I cant walk another step.
    He bent down and helped her up. “We have to keep moving. Your family will send people to find us.”
    “But I can’t walk anymore.…” By