Chapter 2
Edward Quan ·
As soon as we got home, Grandma asked, “Where did that liquor come from?”
“Da Qiang gave it to me.”
She opened it and inhaled.
“Oh, that smells wonderful!”
A sweet, rich fragrance seemed to fill the yard.
Grandpa frowned.
“Why does it smell of fat?”
“They’re rich. Of course they have good things. Stop being suspicious!”
She happily poured a bowl and offered it.
“Try it.”
He shook his head.
“I’ve quit.”
She banged the bowl on the table.
“Do you look down on them? They give you a present and you won’t drink it? What am I supposed to tell them?”
Not wanting to argue, he closed his eyes and took a sip.
“Well?”
He frowned.
“Strange. Rich, like fat. But there’s a metallic taste…”
“Good liquor, and you still complain. What a waste!”
She put it away.
That night, after dinner, Grandpa smoked his pipe.
After a few draws, he slapped his forehead and grimaced.
“My head feels so heavy…”
“Go to bed early if you’re tired.”
Grandma turned off the light, finished tidying, and lay down.
I lay beside Grandpa and drifted to sleep.
***
In the middle of the night, the door creaked.
I opened my eyes.
Grandpa was going outside in a thin shirt. He left the door open.
The cold draft woke Grandma.
“Why’s the door wide open?”
“He went out. He hasn’t come back.”
Moonlight spread over the yard.
I saw him limping toward the grain store.
What was he doing there at this hour?
“Close the door. We’ll freeze,” Grandma said.
Just as I was closing it, he came back.
A cleaver in his hand.
“Grandpa… what’s the knife for?”
He looked at me with icy eyes and a strange smile.
His rough voice hardly sounded like his own.
“Making… dried meat…”
I immediately thought of the strips hanging at Third Uncle’s house.
I slammed the door and threw my body against it.
The noise jolted Grandma awake again.
“Qiu Fu! What are you doing?”
“Lock the door!”
I shook.
“There’s something wrong with Grandpa!”
I was too short to reach the bolt.
His voice came from outside, hoarse and horribly drawn out.
“Qiu Fu. Open the door…”
“Stop playing,” Grandma snapped. “Let him in before he freezes!”
She didn’t believe me.
“Grandma, he has a knife! He says he wants to make dried meat!”
“Nonsense! Open it. Don’t blame me if your grandpa freezes to death!”
I shook my head and backed away.
“I won’t. He… he isn’t himself!”
Before I finished, a crash split the room.
He kicked the door open. Wood splintered. I fell to the floor.
Moonlight lit his face.
His eyes were red, his features horribly twisted.
Grandma froze.
“What… what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer. He stared at me and repeated, each word hissing like cold wind.
“Making… dried… meat…”
He raised the cleaver and advanced.
My legs gave out. I burst into tears.
“Grandma, save me! He wants to butcher me!”
He smiled, distorted as a demon beneath the moon.
Then a heavy object struck his head.
From behind him, Grandma had swung a stone Buddha statue into the back of his skull.
He collapsed. Blood spread across the floor.
She panted, trembling.
“Are you possessed?”
I crawled into her arms, shaking.
She wrapped me in a quilt.
“Don’t cry. Sleep.”
I didn’t dare. Tears kept welling in my eyes.
She propped the door back into place and hastily secured it with nails.
Cold wind still slipped through the cracks. At least something separated us from outside.
“What’s wrong with him?” she muttered as she worked. “Going mad in the middle of the night. Terrifying.”
With great difficulty, she dragged him onto the kang.
Then she sighed.
“Sleep. It’s almost dawn.”
I couldn’t lie near him.
I curled up beside her instead.
***
The next morning, she questioned him.
He remembered nothing.
Looking at the broken door, he stared.
“How strange. I don’t remember any of it.”
“Have you gone mad?” she scolded.
He was silent for a long time.
“Could there be something wrong with the liquor Da Qiang gave us?”
Her eyes flashed.
“More nonsense! They’re decent people. Such good liquor, and you’re suspicious!”
He shook his head.
“After drinking it, I felt dizzy and sleepy. Nothing after that.”
“Could they have meant to hurt me?”
“You quit drinking. Now you’re not used to it. That’s all!”
He sighed and drew on his pipe.
“When I fetched the boy last night, their yard was full of red meat. It didn’t look like pork…”
“What are you babbling about?”
“There’s almost certainly something wrong with that liquor.”
She stamped her foot.
“Sun Dafu! You’re insulting my family!”
He didn’t argue.
“Qiu Fu. Fetch Uncle Liu.”
“What do you want him for?” Grandma snapped.
“This is serious,” he said. “If I’m right, the village won’t be safe.”
“What exactly do you suspect?”
He didn’t answer her.
“Go. Quickly.”
The memory of last night still frightened me, but I nodded.
***
I ran to Uncle Liu’s house.
The moment I entered his yard, I smelled strong liquor.
Exactly like the jar from my uncle’s.
Uncle Liu sat blankly in the yard, his eyes sunken. His wife had gone to her parents’ home.
“Grandpa wants you!”
He looked at me without expression, then followed in silence.
As soon as he entered our yard, his eyes widened.
“That liquor!”
“That’s the smell!”
He stared at the jar on our table.
“Uncle, where did you get this?”
Grandpa turned to Grandma.
“Bring it.”
Reluctantly, she handed it over.
Uncle Liu opened it, drew a deep breath, and went pale.
“This is it.”
“The liquor I drank the night my son died.”
His voice broke.
“Tell me what happened,” Grandpa said calmly.
Tears streamed down his face.
“I found a jar in the storeroom. I thought someone had brought it.”
“I drank and fell into a deep sleep.”
“When I woke, my wife said I’d killed my son. Chopped him up to dry.”
“I don’t remember. I didn’t do it!”
“Did your wife say anything else?”
“That I was possessed. That I butchered my own child.”
Grandpa’s face darkened. His lips trembled as though he were holding something back.
“Uncle, you know something, don’t you?”
Uncle Liu was frantic.
“Tell me! Where did that liquor come from?”
Grandma started to speak.
One glance from Grandpa silenced her.
“I found it,” he said. “I felt dizzy and confused after drinking it, too.”
“I think something’s wrong with it.”
Uncle Liu nodded repeatedly.
“Yes! This liquor makes people go mad and butcher other people!”
“We have to find whoever’s eating white meat. We will, sooner or later!”
After he left, Grandma turned on Grandpa.
“What are you implying? That my family eats people?”
“Then who brought the liquor?” he asked coldly. “Who has all that drying meat?”
She went pale.
“Don’t slander them! They’re rich. They eat pork and beef every day. Why would they eat people?”
He looked straight at her.
“If you hadn’t knocked me out last night, the boy might be hanging in pieces now.”
“Think where that liquor came from.”
“You’re mad! Trying to drive my whole family away again?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Then let’s test it. See whether I’m wrong.”
She faltered.
“Test… what?”
He went into the storeroom and came out with the cleaver.
Cold steel flashed.
I hid behind Grandma.
“What are you doing?”
“Slaughtering a pig. Making dried meat.”
“Are you mad? It’s only four months old!”
“Better a pig than a person. Watch.”
He went straight into the pen.
The pig’s shrieks filled the yard.
“What a performance!” Grandma cursed. “It’s still so small!”
He said nothing.
Quietly, he chopped the pork and hung it on a line.
She shook with anger.
“What a waste!”
“It’s been a while since we had meat. Boil some liver.”
She glanced at him but said no more. She cut liver and heart and put them on to cook.
Soon, the smell filled our home.
He gave me a piece.
“Eat. Get strong.”
“What are you planning?” she asked under her breath.
“I have to let the whole village know.”
His eyes held a grim resolve.
“They’re all afraid of your family. No one dares speak.”
“If we don’t do something, sooner or later, we’ll be butchered like that pig.”
He turned to me.
“For the next few days, hide in the west room.”
“No matter who calls, don’t come out.”
“Why?”
“Just listen.”
Then he looked at Grandma.
“Tomorrow, go out and tell everyone I’ve butchered the boy.”
She stared.
“Have you really lost your mind?”
He gripped the cleaver, his voice catching.
“It’s the only way to make the cannibals show themselves.”
“Trust me. Just this once.”