China -- Fiction; Communism -- Fiction; Women peasants -- Fiction
But the cousin’s wife took this care. She bade the young wife go and
see to something or other in her own house, for she would have this
son’s wife out of earshot, lest this poor old woman tell more than she
meant to tell in this hour, and a great pity after keeping silence so
many years.
So they waited for the two men to return and it was easier waiting
three than one.
But night drew on before the mother saw them coming. She had dragged
herself from her bed and as the afternoon wore on she went and sat
under the willow tree, her cousin and her cousin’s wife beside her, and
there the old three sat staring down the hamlet street, except when the
cousin’s wife slept her little sleeps that not even sorrow could keep
from her.
At last when the sun was nearly set the mother saw them coming. She
rose and leaned upon her staff and shaded her eyes against the golden
evening sun and she cried, “It is they!” and hobbled down the street.
So loud had been her cry, so fast her footsteps, that everyone came
out of his house, for in the hamlet they all knew the tale but did not
dare to come openly to the mother’s house, for fear there might be some
judgment come on it because of this younger son and they all be caught
in it. All day then they had gone about their business, eaten through
with curiosity, but fearful too, as country people are when gaols and
governors are talked of. Now they came forth and hung about, but at a
distance, and watched what might befall. The cousin rose too and went
behind the mother, and even the cousin’s wife would fain have come
except now she did not walk unless she must and she thought to herself
that she would hear it but a little later and she was one who believed
the best must happen after all and so she spared herself and sat upon
her bench and waited.
But the mother ran and laid hold on her son’s arm and cried out, “What
of my little son?”
But even as she asked the question, even as her old eyes searched the
faces of the two men, she knew that ill was written there. The two men
looked at each other and at last the son said soberly, “He is in gaol,
mother.” The two men looked at each other again and the cousin’s son
scratched his head for a while and looked away and seemed foolish and
as though he did not know what to say, and so the son spoke again,
“Mother, I doubt he can be saved. He and twenty more are set for death
and in the morning.”
“Death?” the mother shrieked, and again she shrieked, “Death!”
And she would have fallen if they had not caught her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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