The Dog Read Free

restaurant?” she said.
    â€œNot exactly,” Chen Wei said.
    â€œThis should be good.”
    â€œWe’re going to eat it.”
    She stared at him.
    Chen Wei shrugged. “He wants to obliterate every trace of the dog. That’s what he said.”
    â€œWhat did you say? You’re still his partner,” she said. “Even bandits talk things over.”
    â€œThat’s uncalled-for,” her father said, but Chen Wei waved it off.
    â€œZheng’s already told the entire family there’ll be a feast. You should have heard him. He was furious.”
    â€œWhat’s he taking it out on the dog for?” she said.
    â€œHe doesn’t react well to resistance. I can’t tell him what to do.”
    â€œHe’s got a screw loose.”
    â€œIt’s already decided.”
    Li Yan studied his face for some sign that he might consider opposing Zheng, but she saw only resignation in his hooded eyes.
    â€œHe’s family,” Chen Wei said. “We have a long history.”
    â€œDo you want me to call him? I’ll give him a piece of my mind,” she said.
    Her father sucked on his pipe and mumbled, “Behave like a wife,” but he didn’t put much force behind his words.
    â€œNo,” Chen Wei said. “I’ll deal with it.” But she knew he wouldn’t.
    *   *   *
    Early that Saturday morning, Li Yan, Chen Wei, and their daughter crowded into a hard-seat car of the #44 train to Yulin. Four of the hard-seat cars were reserved for soldiers, young men who moved with dazed absence, as though they had been sleeping in the hot sun for a long time. That left only one hard-seat car for civilians—families traveling to see relatives in the country, merchants transporting goods to provincial markets, businessmen too poor to travel in soft-seat. Bundles the size of refrigerators blocked the aisle. There were no seats for Li Yan or her husband, so they fought their way to the back of the car and squatted by the bathroom door. The car was already filling with the low haze of cigarette smoke as the train pulled out of the West Station. Tinny revolutionary songs squawked from speakers in the corners of the car.
    Chen Wei laid a leaf of newsprint on the floor between them and took out the playing cards. Li Yan beat him at Catch the Pig and Struggling Upstream before they finally settled on Looking for Friends, which required less strategy. After their third game, the baby woke and cried some, but Li Yan got her back to sleep with a song. As she sang, a farmer wearing rags emerged from behind a bundle of vegetables. He crouched against the bathroom door and hummed along with her, then clapped when the song ended. Chen Wei shooed him, and the farmer drifted back into the car.
    At the Xuanhua Station, they got off and found a bus going to Yulin. They had been in transit two hours already, and it was another hour before they reached Yulin, where they boarded a van traveling into the countryside. The driver’s crony tried to gouge them once they were on the road, saying the baby counted as a person and needed a ticket, but the other passengers shouted him down.
    One old woman called him a wolf and shook her fist at him.
    â€œI’ve known him a long time,” she said. “He’d screw his own mother.”
    As thanks, Li Yan let her hold the baby until they disembarked at the dirt road leading to the village where Chen Wei had grown up. Hot, their clothes stained with dust and sweat, they arrived at his cousin’s house just before noon. Zheng met them at the door and embraced them both. He was a barrel-chested man who looked something like a frog—bulbous eyes and wide lips that seemed barely able to contain his tongue. A cluster of dark hair sprouted from his chin.
    â€œShe’s really getting fat,” he said, pinching the baby’s legs. “She’ll make a good side dish.” He spat out a sharp