up on the ground. Disgusting, so disgusting! My stomach lurched spasmodically at the repugnant sight of my vomit, and sent whatever was left down there erupting into my throat and mouth. A dog waited patiently and quietly close by. Father walked up behind me, holding Jiaojiao's hand in one of his and thumping me on the back with the other to relieve my anguish.
My stomach had collapsed into itself, my throat was on fire and my guts were tied up in knots, but I felt better, less burdened, like the sow after she's delivered her litter. I repeat: I was no sow, so I couldn't possibly know what that felt like. I looked at Father with tears in my eyes. He dried my face with his hand.
‘It's good to get that out of your system,’ he said.
‘Dieh, I swear I'm never going to eat meat again!’
‘Don't make promises you can't keep,’ he said, with a look of fatherly concern. ‘Always remember, son, you mustn't make vows, no matter what. That's like kicking the ladder away after you've climbed the wall.’
It would not take long for his words to prove prophetic. A new desire to eat meat materialized only three days after throwing up all that pork, and it would not go away. I began to wonder if the boy who had expressed revulsion towards meat and had called it every rotten thing he could think of was actually someone else, someone without a heart.
We stood in the doorway of the Beauty Hair Salon, next to the spinning barber pole, studying the price list in the window. After polishing off one of the richest breakfasts in memory, we were carrying out Mother's instructions to have our hair cut.
By all appearances—her face glowed, her spirits were high—Mother was in a good mood. Tossing the greasy dishes into the sink, she said to Father, who stepped up to help: ‘Stay where you are and leave this to me. New Year's is just round the corner. What day is it today, Xiaotong, the twenty-seventh or twenty-eighth?’
Did she really expect me to answer that? The meat I'd just eaten had already made its way up into my throat and was waiting for me to open my mouth to make its escape. Besides, I had no idea what day it was. During the dark days before Father's return, dates were the farthest thing from my mind. I hadn't enjoyed a minute's rest, not even during the major holidays. I'd been, for lack of a better term, a slave.
‘Take them out to get haircuts,’ Mother said, sounding like she was making a fuss, though the emotions written on her face when she looked at Father put the lie to that. ‘Go to the mirror and tell me if it's human beings that look back at you! You all look like you've crawled out of a doghouse. Maybe you don't care what people think but I do.’
I almost croaked when I heard the word haircut.
Father scratched his head. ‘Why waste the money? I'll buy some clippers and gnaw at their heads instead.’
‘Clippers? We've got those.’ Mother took some money out of her pocket and handed it to Father. ‘No, this time they need a real haircut. Fan Zhaoxia knows what she's doing, and she doesn't charge much.’
‘There are three heads here,’ said Father with a sweep of his arm. ‘How much do you think that will cost?’
‘For those three hard heads of yours, give her ten yuan.’
‘What?’ Father reacted with predictable alarm. ‘For ten yuan you can buy half a sack of rice.’
‘Three shaved heads are not going to make the difference between rich and poor,’ Mother said charitably. ‘Go on, take them over.’
‘Um…’ Father didn't know what to say. ‘Peasants’ heads aren't worth that kind of money.’
‘Ask Xiaotong what he thinks about letting me cut his hair,’ Mother said cleverly.
Holding my belly with my hands, I wobbled my way outside. ‘Dieh!’ I said in utter dejection, ‘I'd rather die than let her cut my hair!’
Portly Yao Qi walked up, stuck his head in and took a good look at Father, who was agonizing over the cost of professional haircuts. ‘Lao Luo!’ he bellowed as he smacked Father on the back of the neck.
‘What?’ Father turned and remarked calmly.
‘Is it really you?’
‘Who else would it be?’
‘Aren't you something—the prodigal son returns! What about Wild Mule?’
Father shook his head. ‘Don't ask.’ Then he opened the door and took us inside the salon.