Binu and the Great Wall of China (7 page)
With the bundle still resting on top of her head, Binu moved out of the way of the cart. The sight of her solitary, impoverished presence once again captured the attention of the boys under the tree, who began pointing and gesturing at her bundle.
‘Let’s see if there really is a frog in that bundle,’ one of them said.
Another voice, gravelly, like that of an old man, responded, ‘See if there’s a frog? What in the world for? Let’s see if there are any sabre coins.’
It was becoming clear to Binu that the people market was a dangerous place, especially as night was falling; the middle of the road was not a good place for her to be loitering. She was about to move to the left side of the road when the date tree rustled noisily and the boy with the slingshot jumped to the ground. At the same time, one of the other boys stood up and headed straight for Binu, who screamed, ‘What are you, bandits? If you’re
not careful, the authorities will arrest you and take you away!’
That stopped them in their tracks, but the gravelly voice began again, this time with a sinister edge, ‘Let them. In jail they’ll have to feed us, and that is surely better than starving here!’
That comment energized the boys. ‘Let them take us away, that way they’ll have to feed us!’
His friend tried to act like a highwayman. ‘Pay a road tax before you can leave!’
The boys rushed at Binu like wild animals. She screamed and sought help from the fancy women across the street, shouting out, ‘Are you going to stand there and let them rob me?’
The women glanced indifferently at her. One of them, in a blue dress, pointed to the other side of the road. ‘That’s their grandfather sitting there. If he doesn’t care, why should we?’
Binu turned and grabbed the sleeve of one of the mountain women, who immediately pulled back.
‘Don’t grab me, run away! You’re asking for trouble, standing here in the people market with such a big bundle on your head.’
With no choices left to her, Binu took off, running.
At that moment the frog chose to show itself. People
on both sides of the road were shocked to see flashes of light above Binu’s head, when the already legendary frog appeared miraculously, as if it had fallen from the heavens, and landed softly on top of Binu’s head or, more accurately, on top of the bundle. The darkening sky above Bluegrass Ravine made it difficult at first for the people to see the frog clearly, but its tightly shut eyes and the silvery flashes of tears around them put fear into everyone, for no one had ever seen a frog cry.
‘Don’t touch it, it’s a poisonous toad! You’ll go blind!’ came a loud and frightened warning from the old man beside the road. ‘Stay clear of that woman, she’s a sorceress, for sure.’
The boys backed off in the direction of the tree. ‘Didn’t you hear Grandpa say it’s not a frog, that it’s a poisonous toad?’
‘Why is she taking a poisonous toad with her?’ the slingshot-boy asked.
‘Grandfather told us: she’s a sorceress. Let’s get out of here!’
They ran to the tree for protection, and Binu shouted at the boys’ backs, ‘I
am
a sorceress! And I have a poisonous toad. If not, how could I deal with the likes of you in my travels? How could I get where I’m going without this poisonous toad?’
Binu had salvaged her dignity in Bluegrass Ravine thanks to a frog that could cry. Even though it was unexpected, it was the sort of dignity worthy of a true sorceress. As she tidied up her bundle in the fading light, her body emitted an aura of mystery. The fancy women reacted by gathering round her, followed by the guilt-ridden mountain women, who fell in behind. The occupants of the people market – women and children, young and old – were like fish in treacherously shallow water schooling towards the mouth of a spring; they swam towards Binu, embracing the natural respect of a fish to water. They wanted her to tell them their destiny. Binu felt uneasy, and she was anxious to remove herself from their midst. But then she was reminded that they too were poverty-stricken, people to be pitied, and that they shared a similar destiny. Binu had never known a life of fine clothes and good food, but was well acquainted with one of cold and hunger. She had never met anyone reborn from dragons or phoenixes, but had seen a great many humble people who had emerged from earth and water. What then could be so hard about predicting humble destinies? Taking courage from this thought, she looked for a clean patch of ground, on which she laid Qiliang’s sandal; after reinserting the frog in the sandal, she copied the behaviour of the Kindling
Village sorceresses by drawing a circle in the dirt and sitting inside it, lotus position.
The woman in green offered her the uneaten half of her flatbread, curtsied and said, ‘Forgive me, I could not tell that you were a sorceress. My husband was taken off to Great Swallow Mountain in the summer, and I have received no word from or about him since. Please make a divination for me; ask your frog if my man is still alive.’
With a sideways glance at the woman’s fancy dress and adornments, Binu reached out and touched the sash, on which jewels and pieces of agate hung. ‘You are dressed so beautifully, while your husband has been left shirtless. When the northern winds begin to blow, I am afraid he will not survive.’
‘Will he freeze to death?’ the women asked in unison.
‘No,’ Binu replied. ‘The frog says he will die of a broken heart.’
The shocked woman in green pleaded, ‘What can I do?’
‘Go home and find your husband’s warmest winter clothing. Lay it out in the sun tomorrow, and once it is aired and fresh, you can deliver it to Great Swallow Mountain in person.’
The woman hung her head in shame. ‘I no longer have
his winter clothing,’ she said. ‘I traded it for a bag of grain. I am not your equal. You are a sorceress who can fly across mountains and walk on water. I cannot travel such a long distance, I am much too frail. If I tried, I would die along the way for sure.’
‘You are afraid of dying along the way, but not afraid that your husband might freeze to death, is that what you are telling me?’
The woman in green had no answer for that, but before long began to speak in her own defence: ‘He is suffering, but my days are not pleasant either. What good is it to be a talented embroiderer? Isn’t it the same as waiting here for death to claim me? In any case, I was a butterfly in my previous life, and that is what I will return as. Then I can fly to Great Swallow Mountain to see him.’
A hunchbacked old man with a white beard walked up and handed Binu a sour date. Breathing heavily, he said, ‘My son was on his way down the mountain with kindling to sell when he was taken. The villagers falsely accused him of stealing a goat, for which he was arrested. I went to the county government office, but was driven away with a beating. The yamen officials said that, even if he
had
stolen a goat, they had no time to arrest him. Please, Elder Sister sorceress, ask your frog if my son actually committed a crime, and tell me where they have taken him.’
‘Your son has committed no crime,’ she said, ‘and he has certainly been taken to Great Swallow Mountain to work on the Great Wall. It is the hardest, most exhausting labour in the world. The men of Blue Cloud Prefecture fear hard, exhausting labour less than anyone else in the world, so they have all gone to Great Swallow Mountain.’
For a brief moment the old man seemed consoled, but then he asked, with a heavy heart, ‘How many days does it take to travel from Bluegrass Ravine to Great Swallow Mountain?’
‘The frog says that by foot it will take until the onset of winter.’
The old man succumbed to despair. ‘Then I will not be able to go. If it were a matter of a few dozen li, I would go with you. But walking makes me breathless, and I could never walk that far. If only I were ten years younger, I’d travel to Great Swallow Mountain, even if it killed me. I would take my son’s place there. But I will soon be laid to rest, and can only wait here, one tormenting day after another, until I see my son pass by. But then, I am afraid that I will already be in my grave and, if he walks past, I’ll not be able to see him!’
The effect of the words ‘Great Swallow Mountain’ on the people was for a moment like rubbing flint in their eyes; but the sparks were soon extinguished by the
wind. Binu alone was willing to travel to Great Swallow Mountain, and even the frog’s tears lacked the power to persuade the others into travelling with her. For them, waiting by the side of the road was the better choice. The sluggish crowd had abandoned all but the act of waiting. When the mountain women began to weep and wail, the winds from the mountain pass turned unbearably cold, and Binu knew more clearly than anything that, in this forlorn people market, only she held out a bit of hope. She was destined to be alone.
The fancily dressed embroidery sisters asked about their fate, and for each of them it was one of anguish, one of longing and worries, never one of health and happiness; their faces told of their displeasure, and they began to doubt and question the truth of the frog’s tears and Binu’s sorcery. They left the people market, making their way noisily to their homes in the nearby valley. The destitute and homeless mountain women also left, dragging their weary bodies back to hastily dug burrows that offered meagre protection from the elements. After peeling back the dead branches that covered the openings, they crawled in like rodents. But, before she entered her burrow, the woman in black turned and waved to Binu, warmly inviting her to bed down with her for the night. Binu graciously declined the offer. These women
had grown used to living like rodents, content in their burrows, but not Binu. She was used to walking above ground during the daytime and, when the moon and stars shone through the darkness, she was not afraid to walk at night.
Binu stood alone in the wind, gazing down the mountain road, which blurred into darkness. She heard the tinkle of a bell in the distance, and a moment later saw the familiar carter, the one who drove with his feet. His cart cut through the darkness towards her from the mountain pass, but was slowed by Binu’s abrupt move to the centre of the road. Wuzhang lashed out with his whip to get her to move, but to no avail; he was forced to stop.
‘You haven’t managed to get yourself sold, I see,’ he said. ‘Try again tomorrow. But for now get out of my way. Our new retainer was late. We have already missed Lord Hengming’s party.’
Without a word in response, Binu stood her ground and reached into her bundle to take out a shiny sabre coin, which she held out towards the man’s feet.
‘Have you really become a mute? Say something. Just where do you want to go?’
‘I cannot stop, Elder Brother, I must keep going. Be a good man and take me part of the way. So long as I’m heading north, I’ll go as far as you’ll take me.’
He reached down with his foot and deftly picked up the coin with his toes. He raised his other foot and shook it up and down. Binu did not know what that meant. She paused for a moment, but then took out another coin and placed it between his toes. Her hand trembled visibly. ‘I’ve never spent so much money before,’ she said. ‘If Qiliang knew, he’d scold me severely. All that just for a ride. But I have been on the road for three days and nights, and tonight I cannot walk another step.’
‘You think I’ve asked for too much? Don’t you realize whose cart this is?’ The carter turned to look at the new retainer seated behind him, who answered his gaze with a small movement of his head. ‘This brother is a kind man. Without a nod from him, I could not take you anywhere. Hurry up and thank him, for you will be riding in Lord Hengming’s cart, and for only two sabre coins. Few people have that good fortune.’
Binu bowed to the man and climbed into the cart. The new retainer was a giant of a man who cast an enormous shadow. In the little light that remained, she saw the tangled hair that hung to his shoulders, and noticed that his face was covered by a dark kerchief. His body gave off a slightly musky odour.
‘Where are you from, Elder Brother?’ Binu asked timidly.
The man appeared not to have heard. But Wuzhang spun around and bellowed, ‘No talking! I never ask where my passengers are from or where they’re going. How dare you ask such questions!’
The mysterious stranger said nothing and, as Binu rode along, she felt as if she were sitting next to a large boulder. She tried hard not to disturb him, but the bumpy ride occasionally made her bundle brush against his jacket, causing the frog inside to croak, and croak again. So she took it down and held it in her lap. And as she did so, she noticed smudges on the man’s boots, although, in the darkness, she could not tell if it was mud or blood. She moved a little farther away from the man thinking about the dreadful places her travelling companion might have come from. An unintended glance at the eyes glimmering above the dark kerchief revealed a glint of arrogance or hatred. Or was it sorrow?
In the soft moonlight Hundred Springs Terrace loomed up like a bright, lush island. With its high terrace and soaring eaves, its candles flickering amid stringed and woodwind music, it looked like the last giant beast in a moment of rapture. The driver brought the cart to a halt at a riverbank, turned to Binu, and said, ‘Get off, get down off the cart. I’ve driven you twenty li for your two sabre coins. It’s time for you to be on your own again.’
Binu did not hear the carter’s command, so intent was she on avoiding the eyes of the man whose face was covered. Twenty li of travel had exhausted her. Her companion’s cold demeanour and the way he kept his hand under his robe, as if he had a sword hidden there, had reminded her of a man from Huangdian she had encountered on North Mountain as a child. As he roamed the mountain with something under his arm, the children of Peach Village had run after him to ask what he was hiding. ‘What’s that under your arm, Uncle?’ The
man had smiled and opened his coat. It was a bloody human head! The thought of that human head had kept Binu from looking at the man’s robe and, as the cart bumped along the road, she had felt herself floating in the evening air.
The carter kicked her roughly. ‘Are you deaf or have you fallen asleep? We’re at Hundred Springs Terrace, so get off, and don’t let anyone see you!’