The Dog Read Free Page A

laugh.
    Chen Wei laughed, too, but Li Yan could hear the discomfort in his voice. He would never come right out and say it, but she knew he was ashamed of his family’s rough manners, their rugged faces and wide brown feet. She looked at his dust-creased face and saw a refugee. In the country, he drank heavily to disguise his shame, but she never chastised him when he was hungover the next day. She leaned close to her husband while Zheng was rounding up the rest of the family and said, “You are a good cousin. Don’t worry, we’ll be back in Beijing tomorrow night.” He looked puzzled.
    Chen Wei spent the afternoon drinking and talking with the men. Aunties floated in and out of the house, an interchangeable cast of thickset women clad in blue cotton who ferried away the baby and left their own children with Li Yan. The children wouldn’t stop talking about the dog, acting out great victories they’d heard about from Zheng, scampering in and out of the house on their hands and knees, barking and licking each other on the face. They pestered her to follow them into the backyard to see the dog, but she refused. She wanted to ask the children if they understood the dog would be killed, but couldn’t bring herself to ruin their fun. As the afternoon wore on, she felt a dreadful unease set in, misgiving mixed with disdain for her husband’s run-down village. Meanwhile, her husband matched Zheng drink for drink, told bawdy jokes he’d heard at work, toasted his uncles, made a spectacle of himself. She could see that he was trying to liquor himself up for the slaughter. Zheng was a hardhearted man whose only goal in life was to become wealthy, but her husband wasn’t so naturally equipped for the bloody work that lay ahead.
    Late in the afternoon, Zheng rose stiffly and raised his glass in an official toast. “To the Beijing municipal government, which has brought the family together again!” All the men raised their glasses and shouted, “Ganbei.” One of the uncles fell out of his chair. Outside, the aunties had dug a fire pit and assembled a tripod for the cauldron. Everyone moved into the walled yard where the dog was caged. Zheng held out a butcher knife to Chen Wei, who grasped it like a sword, with two hands, stiff-armed. Zheng produced a long carving knife from his belt and swung it overhead.
    There was no breeze, and it was the hour before birds and bats come out for insects. The golden grass in the hills around them stood still. Everything was quiet.
    â€œRelease the beast,” Zheng shouted. A little cousin rattled the dog’s cage, then unfastened the latch. The door swung open and the dog trotted out. It stood outside its cage and wagged its tail. The little cousin slapped the dog’s rump and yelled, “Run!”
    Either out of shock or compliance, the dog’s claws scrabbled over the hard earth, and it was off. The dog ran directly at Chen Wei but at the last second broke left and charged along the wall.
    The children made chase, but the dog was too fast for them, cutting a jagged path through several of the older girls and boys who tried to intercept it at the corner. Zheng waited with Chen Wei, still gripping his butcher knife with two hands. Li Yan watched from the doorway. Beside her an auntie rocked the baby in her ropy arms.
    The dog outwitted the children at every turn, doubling back and twisting through their small hands, running with a hint of terror, as though it could smell menace on the air. The children wore down, moving now like a school of fish, unable to block the dog’s unpredictable path, parting when it doubled back and ran directly at them, going down in a tangle of legs but quickly forming up again. The dog ran a circuit around the yard, its paws whipping up eddies of dust. Once, it appeared to be readying itself to leap clear of the fence altogether, but Zheng bellowed a command and the dog stopped dead in its tracks.