The Garlic Ballads: A Novel by Mo Yan

Author:Mo Yan [Yan, Mo]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 2940000961056
Publisher: Arcade Publishing
Published: 2011-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

3.

Gao Ma spent the night among the mulberries and acacias, not emerging from the world of ghosts and goblins until dawn broke, and then feeling chilled all over—except for deep down in his chest, where a breath of warmth remained. The puffiness had abated around his eyes, and that brought him comfort. The red sun warmed him as it rose in the sky, and that brought him pleasure. His stomach growled; that was followed by the release of dozens of cold farts, proof that his digestive system and his internal organs were still in good working order; that restored hope. Regaining his clear-headedness squelched the desire to go into the village to see Jinju, for he guessed that the police were probably armed and hiding in his house, waiting for him to walk into a trap. Only a fool would enter the village in broad daylight, so he decided to go after nightfall. Even if Jinju was due today, her mother would be with her, so there was nothing to worry about. The crudest mother in the world is still a mother.

But what about the days to follow? He stopped to ponder the question. He couldn’t show his face anywhere in Paradise County, not with handcuffs dangling from his wrist. He’d go see Jinju after dark, then leave for the Northeast. Once he was back on his feet he’d send for her and the baby.

The stand of trees came to life with the arrival of brightly colored birds. Feeling hungry, he searched out a young eight-foot acacia whose branches were covered with blossoms. He jumped up, grabbed the tip of the tree, and bent it over with all his might. It arched, cracked loudly, and snapped in two. The exposed portions of pale wood oozed a yellow sap, but he was already reaping a two-handed harvest of acacia flowers—fully opened, partially opened, even unopened buds, it didn’t matter—and stuffing them into his mouth. The first few entered his stomach whole, but they were followed by petals that released their unique flavor—an overripe, somewhat bitter tang to the older blossoms and a slight puckery bite to the buds—as he chewed. The newly opened blossoms with their delicious nectar were the best. It took him most of the morning to devour three trees’ worth.

After Gao Ma couldn’t eat another acacia flower, he detected a sweet, slightly tart aroma in the hot, humid midday air; looking closely, he found purple, red, and off-white thorn-tipped balls in the crotches of mulberry branches. “Mulberries!” he shouted joyously. He attacked them just as he had the acacia petals: at first he closed his eyes and gobbled them down, green, red, black, white. But after a while, he grew more selective. Off-white mulberries: hard, semisweet, tart, somewhat puckery. Red mulberries: more yielding, sweeter, only slighdy tart. Purple mulberries: soft, very sweet, with a strong, pleasant aftertaste. He hunted for the purple ones, soon learning that if he shook a mulberry tree, only the ripe ones fell to the ground.

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