Sandalwood Death - By Mo Yan Page 0,95

scene on the foreign devil who was fondling his wife, but his arms suddenly seemed paralyzed, and the club fell harmlessly to the ground. The fatal blow had used up all his strength. Yet out of the corner of his eye, he saw aligned behind him a small forest of raised weapons: carrying poles, hoes, shovels, brooms, but mainly fists. A deafening battle cry pounded his eardrums. Railway workers and the Chinese lackeys who had been looking on grabbed hold of the terrified engineer and carried him out of the way, stumbling past the angry mob and leaving the clubbed German at the mercy of the crowd.

After standing there nearly dumbstruck for a few moments, Sun Bing bent down and, with what little strength he could muster, pulled the still-twitching German engineer off of his wife. The man’s hands seemed to have taken root in her pants; his blood was smeared all over her back. Sun Bing was sickened and felt like throwing up. The urge to vomit was stronger even than the desire to help his wife up off the ground. She managed to get to her feet on her own. Her hair was a mass of tangles, her gaunt face disfigured with smears of mud, tears, and blood. She looked ugly and scary. With a burst of sobs, she threw herself into his arms. And all he wanted to do was vomit. He was too weak to even hold her. Abruptly, she broke free and rushed to her children, who were still on the ground, still bawling. He stood there staring down at the German engineer, whose body was still wracked by spasms.

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5

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Faced with the German’s corpse, which lay coiled like a dead snake, Sun Bing vaguely sensed that something terrible lay in his immediate future. And yet a voice inside rose to his defense, presenting him with the rationale for his action: Those men were molesting my wife, this one with his hands inside her pants. And look what they did to my children. I hit him; what else was I to do? Would you stand by and watch while somebody did that to your wife? And I never meant to kill him. Who knew he’d have such a soft skull? Imbued with a sense of righteous behavior, he claimed a just and reasonable defense. My fellow villagers saw it all; they are my witnesses. So are the railroad workers. You can even ask the other German engineer, who will back me up if he has a conscience. It was their fault for molesting my wife and abusing my children. I reacted instinctively with understandable anger. I wouldn’t have hit him otherwise. And yet Sun Bing’s sense of reason and justice did nothing to make his legs less rubbery or his mouth less dry or foul tasting. Foreboding filled his mind and would not go away, no matter how hard he tried; it incapacitated his ability to entertain complex thoughts. Large numbers of the spectators were slipping quietly away; roadside peddlers scampered to pack up and leave: the risks of hanging around even a minute longer were too great. Shops on both sides of the broad avenue shut their doors—for inventory, the signs said—in the middle of the day. The gray avenue was suddenly broader and emptier than it had been, clearing the way for a strong wind to send dead leaves and scraps of paper tumbling and swirling in from the north. A small pack of dirty mutts that had taken refuge in one of the lanes set up a chorus of barks.

A blurry image of his family performing a drama at center stage in front of a large audience took shape in his head. Probing rays beheld them from cracks in shop doors, from neighborhood windows, and from many dark, gloomy places. His wife stood there shivering in the cold wind, holding both children in her arms and looking pitifully up at her husband, silently pleading for his forgiveness and understanding. Both children buried their faces in the folds of her jacket, like terror-stricken fledglings so worried about their heads that they left their backsides exposed. He felt as if his heart had been gouged out of his body. His suffering was immeasurable. His eyes burned, his nose ached, and a sense of impending tragedy was born. He kicked the twitching German’s foot. “You can goddamn stop playing dead!” he cursed and then looked up at the converging gazes and said loudly, “You all saw

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