I was assigned to work in a logging unit. When I reported to the squad leader, I saw his brow furrowed, and he handed me an axe reluctantly.
He asked me to go home to get some clothes for the camp and prepare to go into the mountains.
When I got back to the unit, the logging tools had already been distributed and were carried by more than a dozen other men. All I had to do was take care of my axe and the big dog called Snow Leopard, which belonged to the squad leader. The unit was full of slovenly men, including veterans, Zhiqing, and a part-time worker. All of them were strong men who were born woodcutters. I knew most of them. The most familiar was the squad leader, a veteran in his forties. He had a son who was a few years younger than me. He liked to drink a little liquor, and he sang some folk songs when he got drunk. There was also Dashang, a Zhiqing from Beijing who was a tall man. I played with him on the basketball court. He could play a game against four big boys like me on the court and win.
We walked upstream along a small river until the path disappeared in the jungle, and then we descended to the river, one foot high and one foot low, among the pebbles, sand, and grass.
The squad leader walked in front of the team with the heaviest load on his body. Whether it was dry land or wetlands, his legs always sank firm into the ground, like a wooden pier that couldn't be crashed each time he took a step. I understood why he frowned at me, I was like a woman with thin shoulders, tender arms, and legs, and I needed his care. While climbing a dangerous mountain pass, I slipped under my feet. If I hadn't caught Snow Leopard's chain and stopped by a tree stump, I would have rolled down the mountain stream and there would be no future story. Dashang picked up the axe I threw on the ground and helped me carry it along the way.
We arrived at the logging field halfway up the mountain when the sun was about to go down. The forest floor was covered with messy, dead wood and thick leaves, and the air smelled of methane. There was only one simple wooden shed, surrounded by large green trees. There was a lake near the shed. To be precise, it was a natural reservoir about one hundred meters across. There were hundreds of pieces of chopped logs ready to be transported.
Everyone unloaded their burdens in the shed, threw their small backpacks in the haystack to mark a sleeping space, and then took off their clothes one after another until they were naked. All of them walked out with towels, with their manhood wandering freely in the sunset. Seeing that I didn't move, the squad leader called to me, "Take it off and go to the lake for a bath!" I followed them and swam back and forth in the cool water for a few rounds. All the fatigue of the day was swept away.
Siyan came out of the water with thick glasses on his face. He saw that I was still wearing my shorts, then patted me on the shoulder: "Xiaofeng, I can see that you are a scholar, don't learn from them." Siyan's temperament was closer to mine than anyone else in the entire unit. He was a Zhiqing from Shanghai, and he claimed to be the son of a capitalist.
We didn't cook but made dinner with some snacks. I saw everyone rub anti-insect oil on their bodies, wrap themselves in long-sleeved clothes and put insect-proof gauze over their heads. The squad leader added some charcoal to the stove, held the door with a wooden stick, and silently counted the number of people in the room, nodding his head like a chicken eating rice. He saw me still sitting there fighting with mosquitoes, and he handed me a small pack of anti-insect oil and a gauze wrap. He said somewhat jokingly, "My war preparation materials! Tomorrow's work is hefty, hurry up and sleep."
I was wrapped in a sheet, my head rested on my backpack, and I huddled into the haystack. The mosquito humming sounded close for a while, swirling in my ears, and then disappeared. I did not know where the mosquitoes went. My heart was hanging deep in my chest, like a helicopter in the air waiting to attack the enemy at any time.
The fire in the stove flickered, making this forest cabin extraordinarily lonely. From time to time, I heard a crackling in the fire, and the flying insects turned into tiny sparks.
Gradually, the snoring in the hut overwhelmed the sounds of mosquitoes humming, frogs croaking, the echo of a roller coaster, and the high and low bass of the accordion, which together became an irresistible lullaby.
I fell in love with this hut, this quiet lake. I boldly asked Donna to come with me during a holiday. We slept together in the haystack, with sheets hanging between us. Snow Leopard was guarding the door. We frolicked in the lake, holding hands and diving effortlessly through the water like dolphins. A string of small bubbles was left where Donna floated, and they got bigger and bigger when they gathered together and wrapped Donna in them. I saw her suspended in a giant bubble, held up like an invisible lotus, and the sun reflected her beautiful curves. I felt that Donna was leaving me as she came to me five hundred years ago.
Early the following morning, when Dashang opened the door, he knocked down the wooden stick. It hit my leg and interrupted my sweet dream. I looked at my watch. It was only five o'clock, and the sky was just dawning. Thinking back on that peculiar dream, I thought it was so ridiculous that I didn't dare to see her and made up a dream to deceive myself, but I wanted to continue the fantasy.
I lost sleep, got up, and went outside. I saw Dashang holding a drawing board in the distance and was sketching by the lake, so I walked over to see what he was drawing. He wouldn't see my dreams, would he?
He was imitating a part of the lake and mountains in the morning light. The world around him was drawn like a world in a fairy tale. I could see from his side that he held a pencil worth a few cents. It didn't take him long to complete his drawing.
I asked him, "Where did you learn it?"
While adding some details to the sketch, he replied: "My father taught me. He is a painter." Then he said to me: "If you like this painting, I will give it to you."
I said, "I like it very much, but I don't want your drawing. Can you teach me to draw?"
Dashang responded happily: "Wow, no one has asked me before. Let's have a good chat when we get home."
We looked forward to the rains every day, and when the lake overflowed, we would push the logs into the lake and let them drift down the mountain with the current.
We chopped down trees in the nearby woods on the days when it didn't rain. The squad leader selected which trees were suitable for telephone poles, houses, and furniture. He used an axe to make cuts on the roots of the trees, and he marked them well so we would know what to cut. The unit was divided into groups of two. Each group surrounded a big tree, swung the axe, and hummed along, "Hey yo, hey yo." The rhythm of "hey yo" was vital, coordinating the timing of the two people getting off the axe. When the tree fell, everyone stepped aside and watched happily as the behemoth fell to the ground, then we sat on the tree smoking a cigarette and taking a short break to celebrate.