patent leather. The sight of those boots reminded me of Father's long-lost days of glory; if not for those boots, he'd have presented a truly dismal sight that morning. The girl wore a red wool cap with a little pompom that bounced as she struggled to keep pace with Father. She was wearing an oversized red down parka that went down nearly to her feet and made her look like an inflated rubber ball rolling down the road. She had dark skin, big eyes, long lashes and thick brows that nearly met to form a black line over her nose and that seemed out of place on a girl so young. Her eyes reminded me immediately of Father's lover, Mother's bitter enemy—Aunty Wild Mule. I didn't hate the woman, in truth I sort of liked her, and before she and Father ran off I used to love going over to her little wine shop, where I could feast on meat. That was one of the reasons I liked her, but not the only one. She was good to me; and once I discovered that she and Father were having an affair, I felt closer to her than ever.
I didn't call out nor did I do what I'd imagined I'd do, which was to rush madly into his arms and tell him about all the terrible things that had happened to me since he left. I also didn't report his arrival to Mother. All I did was scamper out of the way and stand absolutely still, like a bemused sentry. When she saw that the gate was open, Mother grabbed the handlebars and began to move the massive beast. She reached the gate at the same moment as Father with the little girl in tow.
‘Xiaotong?’ he said, in a voice filled with uncertainty.
I didn't say a word but stared at Mother's face, which had turned ashen, and at her eyes, which had frozen in their sockets. The tractor lurched like a blind horse towards the gate and Mother slid out of the cab as if she'd been shot.
Father froze, agape. Then he closed his mouth. Then opened it, then he closed it again. He looked at me guiltily, as if hoping I'd come to his rescue. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him lay his knapsack on the ground and let go of the little girl's hand before taking a few hesitant steps towards Mother. He turned back to look at me one more time, and I looked away. When he reached her—finally—he picked her up in his arms. Her eyes remained frozen in their sockets as she stared blankly at his face, as if sizing up a stranger. He opened his mouth—the yellow teeth again—then closed it—and the teeth disappeared. Only a few guttural sounds emerged. Without warning, Mother reached out and scratched his face. Then she fought her way out of his arms and ran to the house on legs that wobbled so much they looked as limp as noodles. She zigged and she zagged, a slipshod trajectory, but somehow managed to get inside our big house with its tiled roof. She slammed the door shut behind her, so hard that a pane of glass came loose, crashed to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. Deathly silence. Then an unswerving howl, followed by wails that swerved and spun.
Father stood in the yard like a rotting tree, embarrassment writ large across his face; as before, his mouth opened and closed, closed and opened. I saw three gashes on his cheek. Ghostly white at first, they soon filled with blood. The little girl looked up at him and began to bawl. ‘Daddy, you're bleeding,’ she cried out shrilly, in a lilting out-of-town accent. ‘Daddy, you're bleeding…’
Father picked her up. She wrapped her arms round his neck and said through her sobs: ‘Let's go away, Daddy.’
The tractor was still roaring, like a wounded animal. I went over and turned it off.
With the engine stilled, the crying sounds from Mother and the little girl thudded against my eardrums. Some early risers on their way to fetch water walked over to see what was wrong. Furious, I slammed the gate shut.
Father stood up with the girl in his arms and walked over to me. ‘Don't you know who I am, Xiaotong?’ he asked, his voice heavy with apology. ‘I'm your dieh…’
My nose ached, my throat closed up.
He ruffled my hair with his big hand. ‘Look how much you've grown