The Republic of Wine

monster, if it could eat a whole buffalo. My mother-in-law said that just thinking about it terrified her. After pushing the buffalo to the ground, her uncles stood aside, and she saw her father remove a glistening ax from his waistband. Holding it in both hands, he walked up to the animal. Her heart, seemingly in the grip of a massive hand, was barely able to start again after each beat. Her father mumbled something, a look of fear danced in his black eyes. Suddenly she felt immensely sorry for her father and for the buffalo. She sensed that this man, who was as skinny as a monkey, was as pitiable as the buffalo that lay stiffly on the rocky ground: this was not something that either the butcher or the butchered wanted, but both were driven by an overpowering force to do what must be done. When my mother-in-law saw the immense, oddly shaped opening of the cave, heard the strange noises coming from inside, and felt the ominous air spewing from the mouth, she was inspired by the thought that what scared the daylights out of both her father and the buffalo was the god inside. She saw the buffalo’s tightly closed eyes, the long lashes squeezed by the eyelids into a thin line. An emerald-green fly was picking at something in the corner of its moist eye. My mother-in-law was so troubled by the disgusting fly that the corners of her eyes began to itch, but the buffalo didn’t so much as twitch. My mother-in-law’s father walked up alongside the buffalo, looking around as if in a trance. What was he thinking? My mother-in-law said that, as a matter of fact, he saw nothing, that looking around was a sign that his mind was empty. Holding the ax in his left hand, he spat into his right palm, then switched the ax to his right hand and spat into his left palm. Finally, he held the ax in both hands and shifted his legs slightly, as if trying to stand more firmly. He took a deep breath and held it; as his face darkened and his eyes bulged, he raised the ax high over his head and brought it down hard. My mother-in-law heard a thump as the ax split the buffalo’s head. Her father exhaled and stood there weakly, as if his body were falling apart. A long time passed before he bent down to pry the ax from the buffalo’s head. The animal let out a dull cry; it made several attempts to stand up, but failed. It was unable to raise its head, for the ligaments in its neck were severed. Then different parts of its body began to twitch, one after another, seemingly beyond the control of its brain. My mother-in-law’s father raised his ax again and chopped down savagely, enlarging the wound above the buffalo’s neck. He made a ‘hey-hey’ sound as he hacked away, each chop right on target, making the wound deeper and deeper, until black blood spewed from the buffalo’s neck. The smell of hot, raw blood streaked into my mother-in-law’s nostrils. Her father’s hands were covered in blood; she could feel the slipperiness of the ax in the way her father repeatedly dried his hands with grass. Following the further enlargement of the wound, fresh blood splashed over her father’s face. Bubbles gurgled out of the buffalo’s severed windpipe. With her hands around her own neck, my mother-in-law turned away; when she turned back, her father had already chopped off the head. He threw down the ax, picked up the head by its steely horns with his bloody hands, and carried it over to the altar outside the cave. What puzzled my mother-in-law was the buffalo’s eyes, which had been tightly closed before it died, but were now wide open. Still as blue as the ocean, they reflected the people around them. My mother-in-law said her father stepped back after arranging the buffalo’s head on the altar. Mumbling something unintelligible, he knelt on the ground and kowtowed by the cave opening. Her uncles also knelt down on the rocky ground and kowtowed to the cave opening.
    After the sacrifice was completed, her father and uncles went into the cave with their tools, leaving her outside to guard the boat and equipment. My mother-in-law said that silence followed their entry into the cave, like a stone sinking to the bottom of the sea. Terrified of facing the buffalo’s head with its staring eyes and the body from which blood continued to flow, she gazed out to where the sea and the sky merged. The mainland had disappeared behind the sea. Flying over the island were many giant birds whose names she didn’t know. Some fat, chattering rats crawled out