Читать книгу The Pearl Jacket and Other Stories - Shouhua Qi - Страница 28

Liu Guofang

His son nestled in his arms. A butterfly flew over, a big black butterfly. His son bolted from his arms and ambled after the butterfly. His son didn’t catch the butterfly. Instead, he ran over and caught his son.

“Don’t go after the butterfly,” he said.

“Why?” his son looked up and asked.

“Butterflies are dead people.”

“Do all dead people become butterflies?” his son asked.

“Yes, they do.”

“Will Pa become a butterfly?”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

His son still wanted to chase after butterflies, so he held his son’s hands tightly in his own. So many butterflies were hovering and dancing overhead. His son lifted his head and chased them with his eyes, crying out: “See, so many people have become butterflies!”

He took his son back home.

From then on he didn’t spend much time with his son. Soon he acquired a lover, a pretty girl. The girl liked him and stayed with him every day. Once the girl said, “Let’s get married.”

He said, “I’ll miss my son.”

The girl said, “Easy. I’ll bear you a son.”

For a long while he didn’t say a word. Then he nodded.

So he divorced his wife. When he was packing his things up, his son grasped his hand and asked: “Where’re you going, Pa?”

“A long business trip,” he lied.

“Pa doesn’t want me any more,” his son said.

There was nothing he could say.

Just then a butterfly flew over, a very big black butterfly. He saw his son’s eyes glued to the butterfly. It hovered around a few times and left.

So did he.

For a long time afterwards he didn’t see his son. He missed him. When he missed his son badly, his new wife would pat her belly and say to him, “No need to worry. I’ll bear you one.”

There was nothing else he could do about it.

Except for waiting, waiting for his wife’s belly to grow bigger. He waited and waited but his wife didn’t bear him a son. He missed his son even more.

One day, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he went to see his son without telling his new wife. Since he hadn’t visited him for years, he didn’t know where his son had moved. It took him a while to find the new address.

There he saw a child, much taller than he remembered, the innocent curiosity gone. He knew in his heart that the child in front of him must be his son but didn’t dare to trust his eyes. He said to the child: “Do you know me?”

The child shook his head. He told the child to look harder.

The child looked again and said, “I don’t know you.”

“I’m your pa,” he said.

“You are not my pa,” the child said.

“I am your pa.”

“You aren’t my pa.”

“I am your pa,” he insisted.

The child stopped arguing with him. He ran into the inner room, came back with a small wooden box, and handed it to him: “My pa is in it.”

He opened the box.

In the box lay a butterfly.

A big black butterfly.

(1988)