The two stove tenders' faces and chests reddened rhythmically from theflames

Tag : straw fabric
In this exclusive extract from Howard Goldblatt's translation, thevillage Party Secretary's oldest daughter, Yumi, meets her futurehusband, Peng Guoliang, for the first time
The arrival of Yumi brought the story to a climax. After the womenhad taken her brother away from her they opened a path to her home anddragged her along it. This was a scene they had been awaiting for along time, and once it had been acted out they would all breatheeasier. So they walked her home, one step at a time; she didn'thave to do anything but lean back and let the others do all thework. When she reached the gate her courage abandoned her and sherefused to take another step. A couple of the bolder young maidenspushed her up until she was standing right in front of PengGuoliang.
The crowd thought he might actually salute her, but he didn't. Nordid he snap to attention. He was, in fact, barely able to stand, ashe just kept opening and closing his mouth. When Yumi sneaked alook at him, the expression on his face put her at ease, though shewas fidgeting bashfully. Beet-red cheeks made her eyes seem darkerthan ever, sparkling as they tried to hide from view. To thevillagers outside the door she was a pitiful sight; they couldhardly believe that the bashful girl they were looking at wasactually Yumi. In the end, it seemed, she was just a girl. So, witha few lusty shouts from the crowd, the climax passed and the tensemood dissipated. Of course they were happy for Peng Guoliang, butit was Yumi who was really on their minds.
Wang Lianfang walked out to treat the men in the crowd tocigarettes and even offered one to the son of Zhang Rujun, who wascradled in his mother's arms, looking foolish as only a baby boycan. Wang tucked the cigarette behind the boy's ear.
'Take it home and give it to your daddy,' he said.
They'd never seen him be so polite, though clearly that was meantas a joke. A chorus of laughter made for a delightful atmospherebefore Wang shooed the crowd away and, with a sigh of relief, shutthe door behind them.
Shi Guifang sent Peng Guoliang and Yumi into the kitchen to boilsome water. As an experienced housewife, she knew the importance ofa kitchen to a young couple. First meetings always turned out thesame, with a pair of shy and unfamiliar youngsters seated behindthe stove, one pumping the bellows while the other added firewood,until the heat turned their faces red and slowly loosened them up.So Guifang opened the kitchen door and told Yuying and Yuxiu to gosomewhere else. The last thing she wanted was for the other girlsto hang around the house. Except for Yumi, not one of her daughtersknew how to behave around people.
While Yumi was lighting a fire, Peng Guoliang gave her a secondgift. The first, in accordance with an age-old custom, had to be abolt of fabric, some knitting yarn, or something along those lines.By coming with a second set of gifts, he showed himself to bedifferent from others. He gave her a red-barrelled Hero-brandfountain pen and a bottle of Hero-brand blue-black ink, a pad offorty-weight letter paper, twenty-five envelopes, and a ChairmanMao pin that glowed in the dark. There was a hint of intimacyattached to all the gifts, each of which, at the same time,represented a cultured and progressive spirit. He placed them allon top of the bellows, beside which he had laid his army cap, witha star that shone bright and deep red. With all these items arrayedon the bellows, silence spoke more loudly than words. Peng Guoliangworked the bellows, each forceful squeeze heating up the fire inthe stove. Flames rose into the air, like powerful pillars, movingfrom side to side each time he brought his hands together. For herpart, Yumi added rice straw to the pillars of fire, moving inconcert with him, as if by design, and creating a moving tableau.When the straw fell from the fire tongs onto the flames, it firstleaped into the air, then wilted and turned transparent beforefinally regaining colour and creating both heat and light. The twostove tenders' faces and chests reddened rhythmically from theflames; their breathing and the rising and falling of their chests,too, had a rhythmic quality, though both required adjustments andextra control. The air was so hot and in constant oscillation itwas as if a private sun hung above each of their heads, all butbaking them, in jubilant fashion, a sort of heated tenderness.Their emotions were in chaos, rising and falling in their breasts.There was confusion, at least a little, and something in the airthat could easily have led to tears, here one moment and then gonethe next. Yumi knew she was in love, and as she gazed into thefire, she couldn't stop the flow of warm tears. Peng Guoliangnoticed, but said nothing. Taking out his handkerchief, he laid iton Yumi's knee. But instead of using it to dry her tears, she heldit up to her nose. It smelled faintly of bath soap, and nearly madeher cry out loud. She managed to hold back, but that only increasedthe flow of tears. Up to that moment they hadn't exchanged a singleword and hadn't touched one another, not even a finger. That suitedYumi perfectly. This is what love is supposed to be, she toldherself, quietly sitting close but not touching, somewhat remotebut in silent harmony. Close at hand, though longing in earnest andcalling to mind some distant place. As it should be.
Yumi's glance fell on Peng Guoliang's foot, which she could see wasa size 42. No question about it. She already knew his sizes, all ofthem. When a girl falls for a boy, her eyes become measuring tape.Her gaze stretches out to take a measurement, then, when that'sdone, snaps right back.
Custom dictated that Peng Guoliang not stay under the same roofbefore Yumi became his wife. But Wang Lianfang was in the habit ofbreaking rules and dedicated to transforming social traditions.
'You'll stay here,' he announced.
He took great pleasure in seeing Peng Guoliang walk in and out ofthe yard; his presence created an aura of power around the houseand brought him high honour.
'It's not proper,' Shi Guifang said softly.
Wang Lianfang glared at her and said sternly, 'That's metaphysicalnonsense.'
So Peng Guoliang took up residence in the Wang home and stayed put.When he wasn't eating or sleeping, he spent his time behind thestove with Yumi. What a wonderful spot that was. A sacred spot forvillage lovers. He and Yumi were talking by this time, though thestrain on her was considerable, since words in the nationaldialect, putonghua , kept cropping up in his speech. She loved the way it sounded,even if she hadn't mastered it, because those few added wordsconjured up distant places, a whole different world, and were madefor talk between lovers. On this particular evening the fire in thebelly of the stove slowly died out and darkness crept over them,frightening her. But this sense of fright was augmented withcomplicated feelings of hope and anxiety. Budding love is cloakedin darkness, since there is no road map to show where it's headed;neither partner knows how or where to start, and that usually makesfor awkward situations. They maintained a respectful distance outof fear of touching, absorbed in feelings of anxiety.
Peng Guoliang reached out and took Yumi's hand. At last, they were holding hands . Admittedly, she was a little scared, but this was what she'd beenwaiting for. Letting Guoliang hold her hand instilled in her the satisfaction of a job well done, anda sigh of relief emanated from the depths of her heart. Strictlyspeaking, she was not holding his hand; her hand was caught in his.At first his fingers were stiff and unbending, but slowly they cameto life, and when that happened they turned wilful, sliding inbetween hers, only to back out, unhappily, seemingly in failure.But back they came. The movements of his hand were so new to Yumithat she had trouble breathing. Then without warning, he put hisarms around her and covered her lips with his.
· This is an exclusive edited extract from the first translation ofThree Sisters, due to be published by Telegram in early 2009, price£8.99