Ahua, a part-time worker, took the initiative to partner with me and show me some skills. I was always worried that my axe would hurt him, so I didn't dare to swing my big arms. His brother-in-law was sick and could not go to work, so he came to replace him. It had been five years, and no one had considered turning him into a regular.
He told me, "It's alright, just hold on to the axe's handle hard, as I do," he spat into his palm and swung the big axe toward the tree trunk. The axe's blade rubbed against the tree, and instead of digging into the trunk, it flew back towards me. I saw the axe, from small to big, pulling Ahua's body with it toward my chest. The scene happened instantly, but I saw it clearly in slow-motion.
The squad leader saw what was happening, and his loud shouts came to me along with the blade of the axe. I stood there, completely stunned. The blade was a bit dazzling and cold. Maybe it was the desperate effort of Ahua, or maybe I leaned slightly, but his axe managed to hit the handle of the axe I was holding against my chest.
The squad leader rushed in front of us, pushed a big hand against Ahua, nearly pushing him down, and shouted, "Idiot, stay away from this kid, don't get close to him!" I was not frightened and started to work again with the squad leader.
In the evening, we gathered in the hut to chat and tell stories. I liked the stories told by Siyan. His stories held a deeper meaning, and most of them were from foreign classics that I had not read. One story was about a young man who fell in love with his cousin, who unfortunately became a prostitute; another was about a female Red Army soldier who fell in love with a gentleman-like white bandit officer. In the end, she shot him to death. These stories made me forget the hardships and dangers of my day, and I longed for the night in the forest. I asked Siyan where he had read so many books, and he whispered to me that he had a box of collections, all of which were Chinese and foreign masterpieces. He urged me not to tell anyone else, especially my parents.
Except for the squad leader, everyone was single. The topic of the evening was often women - that is, how charming the female Zhiqing of a particular unit was with her round buttocks, white neck, and sharp Chongqing accent. They sighed at such a good woman. She would not stay in the ravine forever. Sooner or later, she would leave. Even if you had a baby with her, she would take it away and return to her city someday.
Sometimes they made jokes about me and asked, "Where is your beauty? Is it Donna? Why else would she desperately try to save you?" I told them that my vision was far and ambitious and that I had never given much thought to girls, or so I believed. As far as I knew, there was no woman in my life trajectory.
"That little girl is a beauty, but she is too wild, not suitable for you," the squad leader said in a strong and wise tone.
They asked Siyan, "You often go to Dr. Fang's house. Did you fall in love with Donna or her mother?" Lao Lai added jokingly, "Donna is ten years younger than you, and Dr. Fang is ten years older than you. Either age is unsuitable." Siyan defended himself, saying, "I am a poet. I like native cultures and collect folk customs." I had heard that Siyan was close to Dr. Fang's family, and his parents often sent him money. He was relatively well-off and frequently bought some things for Dr. Fang to help with her family's financial difficulties. He had even taken some canned food to her house for dinner one evening.
***
It'd been almost a week. It hadn't rained yet, and we were running out of food. In the afterglow of the setting sun, everyone washed their naked bodies in the water. The hair on their faces contrasted with the hair below, and day by day each man looked more like a savage. Only Siyan brought razors, and his face was kept so neat that it turned black and green in the light.
One day, when the squad leader was lifting a log, he was in the wrong rhythm with the others. His waist flashed, and he was hit brutally by the log. He couldn't speak. Lao Lai picked him up and shook his body several times before he could finally breathe.
When we got up the following morning, the squad leader asked everyone, "My morning urine was white. What do you think happened to me?" No one had ever heard of such a thing. He took us to the woods to see. The ground was white as if pouring lime mortar. Everyone advised him to go down the mountain as soon as possible and see Dr. Fang. He reminded us that the task was not complete and that he couldn't abandon his post here. He was trying to drink some liquor to suppress it and wanted to wait a day to see what might happen.
In the middle of the night, we were awakened by thunder and lightning, and the long-awaited torrential rain began to fall outside. The water began dripping into our shed. We hid under the sheets with sticks propped up, excited to hear the sound of the flood rushing into the lake, roaring like a wild beast. Snow Leopard hid in the corner and howled, having heard a different sound. I pulled him over, and he squatted with me, listening to the rains.
At dawn, everyone went down to the lake bare-bottomed. We spent the day there, like otters anchored in the water. The sun had roasted and shriveled our bodies like sweet potatoes. Snow Leopard was as entertained as we were, chasing wild rabbits in the nearby woods.
At the end of the day, Siyan asked me, "Where are your shorts?" I looked at myself, looked back at him, and realized I didn't know when they had been taken off.
Snow Leopard did not return that night, and there was no sign of him the next day. The squad leader poured the unfinished liquor on the ground to farewell him. He said, "He fought with a bear and died honorably, or he met his lover and followed her."