Galloping Horses

8/11/2019 Galloping Horses

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When I got on to the main road in Wudouqu, there they were thehiggledy-piggledy prints of eight horse hooves. A wave of fine yellowdust rose in the air when your foot hit the loose surface, but theground was firm and shiny where the hooves had been. I didn't needto take a closer look. I knew that they Hongqi and Dongliang hadcome this way. And there he was, standing shirtless in front of themelon shack, his eyes fixed on the two jujube-red horses gallopingdown the dusty road.

His name was Soybean, or that's what his father called him. Hongqiand Dongliang called him Beansprout, because he was small andthin, like a beansprout that hasn't grown properly. I only got to knowhim when I started passing through Wudouqu to take my buffalo tograze. There were very few people who really knew him. All we knew

was that he and his father looked after a melon patch and twofishponds in the rough land not far from the dirt road. They weren'tfrom round here.

I used to walk my buffalo past his melon shack, and that's how I gotto know him, bit by bit. I thought he was younger than me, but he saidhe was the same age, in fact older by six weeks. One day he askedme where all the cars and trucks that rush along the sandy road weregoing. We'd only just started talking to each other at that stage.

'I don't know', I said. 'I've never been in a car.'

It was a while before he spoke.

'Me neither.'

As the evening sun faded, all kinds of cars and trucks trundled alongthe road, raising dust storms in their wake. Fine grains of sandswirled in the air in front of his melon shack, and left a thick layer ofdust on the melon seedlings and the fishponds. I couldn't resist

following the hoof-prints, leaping from one to the next. But my buffaloidled along, and I had to whip it on the backside with a strip of freshwillow to keep it moving. I couldn't hang around though, I had to find itfresh grass and water, and then walk it home again. When I lookedback in the distance, there he was, still leaning against the melonshack, staring at the busy dirt road. The cars and trucks appeared inthe haze between dust and dusk, on their way to who knows where.


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All around him the vast rough land stretched as far as the eye couldsee, as though he was the only person left on earth.

We didn't talk much, and we never talked for long. He rarely spoke,and I couldn't hang around all day in a place where the grass had

long since been eaten by passing livestock. I had to take my buffaloto graze somewhere else. In time, we got talking about Hongqi andDongliang, and their horses. They used to ride past the melon shackon their way to graze the horses by the Wulong River. Afterwards,when the horses were full, they would bring them on to the dirt roadto gallop, and race against the cars and trucks with their four, ormore, wheels. How I envied their high spirits, their freedom, as theyrode bareback, clutching the mane with their right hands, cracking thewhip with their left, whooping and hollering, their shirts, bereft of

buttons, whipped up in the wind, like the battle flags of a victorycharge in a movie. They galloped along, side by side, forcing the carsand trucks to the edge of the road. Hongqi said drivers used to sticktheir heads out of the window and swear at them, but why shouldthey care? Their horses were faster than the cars. It thrilled me just toimagine being on the back of a galloping jujube-red horse, its longstrong legs stretching and reaching.

'Have you ever been on a horse?' Beansprout asked me.

'Yeah. You?'

'No. Did it feel good?'

'Fantastic. Love it,' I said, fiddling with my hands and shuffling myfeet. I'd only been on a horse twice one walk, one trot on thethreshing ground. I'd paid Hongqi ten cicadas to have a go. I grabbedhold of the mane, like they did. But when the horse started to run I gotreally scared: my hands went all sweaty, my legs went stiff as woodand I lost any grip I had on the horse's belly. Then Dongliang said I

was hopeless, and cracked his whip on the horse's backside. Itsbuttocks flinched, throwing me off its back and into a pile of rottingstraw. 'If you've never ridden a horse, you can't imagine howwonderful it is, to feel the power of a field marshal. The horse runs sofast that the wind rushes past, smacking you in the face and on yourears. Really, it's like you're flying.' As I described it to Beansprout, Ifelt a trembling in my limbs as though I really was going to take off,


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although I had never had the sensation of flying while on horseback.And I didn't tell Beansprout that when I walked my buffalo all the wayto the Wulong River to graze, it was really because I wanted to benear Hongqi and Dongliang, and that I was hoping for a chance toride on their horses and feel the power of a field marshal, and raceagainst the cars and trucks on the dirt road, like they did. I'd alwaysgrazed my buffalo in the pine forest north of the graveyard before.

'I want to ride a horse too,' said Beansprout, unable to hold it in anylonger, 'Can you ask them if I can have a go?'

'Sure. Next time I'll ask them to bring the horses over.'

'I want to ride on the dirt road, as fast as they go.'

'No problem.'

I regretted it straight away. How was I going to get a horse for him toride? I'd been following Hongqi and Dongliang around for days, andall I had managed was a few strokes while the horses were grazing.They wouldn't let me ride.

'Go ride your water buffalo,' they said. 'It's nice and steady. You canlose yourself in a day-dream.'

I had promised to ask, and now, every time I passed the melon patch,I felt like a thief. It seemed that every time I went by, Beansproutwould be sitting at the side of the road. When he caught sight of mein the distance, he'd get up and ask if they'd said yes. I worriedmyself sick wondering what to say. At first, I could say that I hadn'thad time to ask, but after a while I couldn't use that excuse any more.I could only say that I had asked, and that they hadn't given ananswer yet, which meant he was still in with a chance. The truth was,I hadn't even raised it with Hongqi and Dongliang. Every time I got

near them, they would pull faces, and brush me aside: 'Go away.We're off to race against those useless cars.' Sometimes they weremore cutting than that: 'Stop hanging around here. Go ride yourbuffalo. Watch out for the horses. They can kill when they kick, youknow.'

What could I say? Sometimes I thought I should forget about it, stop


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taking the buffalo to the Wulong River, and go back to the pine forest,so I wouldn't have to go past his little shack any more. But I couldn'tstop myself. I wanted the chance to ride a horse just as much as hedid. When I crossed the river and saw the confusion of hoof prints, Icouldn't resist stepping into them as I walked. Then, a wonderfulscene came into my head of a horse galloping headlong, as thoughthe hoof prints on the ground belonged to the horse beneath my legs.I had no choice but to follow the hoof prints.

Beansprout never lost hope. He kept asking if I had any news, andday after day waited at the side of the road for me to come along.He'd watch the cars and horses on the dirt road until I came past,listen to whatever excuse I could keep him quiet with, then watch thecars and horses on the dirt-road again. The way he looked around

made me uncomfortable. Eventually I came up with a plan. As I wasgoing past the melon patch, Beansprout started to ask the same oldquestion. I ran my fingers over the mulberries wrapped in paper thatwere in my pocket.

'No problem,' I said, 'today they will definitely say yes.' I had pickedthe mulberries from the tree close to the eaves of my house. Therewere lots of unripe ones, and my mother said I wasn't to pick themuntil they were ripe, but I'd had to do it sooner than that.

I handed the mulberries to Hongqi and Dongliang. Hongqi said: 'Stillwant to ride a horse?'

'I don't, but Soybean does.'

'Soybean?' said Dongliang. 'You mean that Beansprout who looksafter the melon patch?'

'Yes. He wants to ride a horse.'

He took handfuls of mulberries and stuffed them in his mouth. Theywere so sour they made his eyebrows wiggle. I was so excited I hadto keep swallowing too.

'Just one go.'

'I'll think about it,' said Hongqi, wincing. 'Why didn't you bring the


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sweet black ones?'

Dongliang stopped eating, frowned at Hongqi and said, 'TellBeansprout we've said yes, but on one condition.'

'What condition?'

'He can only ride when the watermelons are ripe. And he has to let useat what we like in his melon patch, as much as we want.'

'That's right, as much as we want.'

I told Beansprout, repeating word for word exactly what Hongqi andDongliang had said. He slumped to the ground, and seemed evensmaller than usual.

'My dad will kill me. I have to look after the melons, every single oneof them. He has to count them all every night, otherwise he can't getto sleep.'

'Well, that's what they said.'

'I'll think about it,' said Beansprout, scratching his head. Then he gotup and walked over to his little shack. When he reached the door heturned round, 'I'll let you know when the melons are ripe.'

Finally, I had some peace for a few days. I hadn't managed to get aride, but I was happy. I could talk to Beansprout without gettingworked up about it, and he stopped asking about riding. Every sooften he'd ask if they had shown any war movies in my winding littlestreet lately, and ask me to tell him about them. He had a few rideson my water buffalo, which was a bit like riding a horse, and imaginedhe was a powerful figure with supreme command.

Inevitably, the watermelons ripened. I often saw Beansprout's father

pushing a wheelbarrow full of melons for sale down our street. ButBeansprout had not said a word about riding. I didn't mention it either,not even when I saw him standing in front of the melon shackwatching out for the horses that raced on the dirt road. Thatafternoon, when I passed by, riding on my water buffalo, Beansproutburst out of the little shack.


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'Stop!' he yelled. His face was all red with excitement. There werebeads of sweat rolling from his forehead and the ridge of his nose.'Tell them to come quickly. My dad's out selling melons, and he fellasleep without counting them last night. Go tell them, quickly.'

I was stunned. It took me a moment to come to my senses. Then Ijumped down from the buffalo, tethered it to a short poplar close to atuft of grass, and ran as fast as I could to the Wulong River. There layHongqi and Dongliang, asleep in the shade of the trees. The twohorses had their heads down, eating the grass. I woke them up. Theyobviously hadn't expected this either.

'Is this for real, or is he having us on?' asked Hongqi.

'We can eat as much as we want?' asked Dongliang.

'You'll see when you get there.'

We rode back to Beansprout's melon patch. I sat behind Dongliang,holding on to his waist, so I wouldn't fall off. Beansprout was standingat the side of the road waiting for us. He said only one thing about themelon patch: 'Tap the melons before you pick them. If they're notripe, for god's sake don't pick them.'

Hongqi and Dongliang ran into the melon patch with grins on theirfaces. Beansprout and I took the horses, one each. My buffalo wasstill tied to the little poplar tree. It would have to wait. Beansprout'shands hadn't stopped shaking, and every so often he licked his lip. Itwas the first time he had walked beside a horse. He wound the reinsround his hand, but would not go close to the horse, staying as closeto me as he could.

'How do you ride?' he asked. 'I don't even know how to get on.'

I showed him how to grab hold of the horse's back and leap onsideways. Two hands on the horse's back, then swing your body up.He couldn't get the hang of it. He was too small, and he was afraid ofgetting too close to the horse. I tried to help him a few times, but hecouldn't get on.

'Wait,' said Beansprout, carefully combing his fingers through the


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horse's mane. 'I'll walk it around for a while first, have a little walk.'

'Do you want to go on the dirt road?' I asked him.

'There are too many cars. I'll just walk for now.'

I daren't go on the dirt road either. I was worried the cars wouldstartle the horses, and then we'd be finished. I rode on one horse,Beansprout walked the other one. We were so careful. That's how wespent the afternoon, one riding very very slowly, the other walking, aswe went up and down the eight water channels that ran parallel withthe dirt road. We were excited and content. Every moment wasprecious, and it didn't occur to us to talk. The sky was unforgettablethat day. The late afternoon sun was so bright it seemed the cloudswere on fire, their changing shapes making different scenes in thewestern sky: a flock of sheep, or waves on the sea, then a pack offlying horses, a house with farmland and a dog, then two peoplerunning towards us, and shouting. They were shouting my name andBeansprout's. It was Hongqi and Dongliang. But they weren't figuresin the sky, they were running on the ground, running and yelling.Beansprout dropped the reins as if they had burnt him, and froze stiffas a tree trunk. The flesh on his face started to quiver.

None of us had expected Beansprout's father to return so soon. He

had sold his barrow load of melons very quickly. On his way home hehad seen a buffalo in the distance going towards his melon patch,and had run all the way home with his barrow to stop it from eating allhis melon seedlings. It was lucky the buffalo had only eaten a fewwatermelon leaves. He kicked the buffalo's head, then saw a load ofsplit watermelons, none of which had really been eaten as most ofthe red flesh was still in the skins. The startled water buffalo ran southdown the side of the melon patch, and into the fishpond on theeastern side. Beansprout's father chased after it, but by the time hereached the fishpond the buffalo was already in the water. He was

shouting for Beansprout, and at the same time trying to coax thewater buffalo out of the fishpond with a tree branch and a handful offresh grass. By now the fishpond was all muddy. It was my buffalo.Having eaten all the grass it could reach, it had started to eat the littlepoplar tree, and had more or less finished it off when the reins hadcome loose.


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Having dealt with my buffalo, Beansprout's father realized that hisson still hadn't emerged from the shack. Furious, he stormed inside,only to find Hongqi and Dongliang lying on the bed, snoring away. Hehauled them up by the collar, and kicked them out of the door. Heasked where Beansprout was, kicked them again, first one, then theother, and told them to get lost.

I knew Beansprout would be in for a hard time, and as I led mybuffalo away from the melon patch I heard his screams. It hadstarted. When I got home, Hongqi and Dongliang were already there,having ridden over on their horses. They asked about Beansprout.'What can we do?' I asked. His father had probably strung him up fora beating by now. Hongqi and Dongliang felt awful. They asked me totell Beansprout that if he hadn't been able to ride today, he could

carry on tomorrow, they wouldn't charge him, not even a watermelon.

The next day, as soon as I got on to the main road in Wudouqu I sawBeansprout, shirtless, standing in front of the melon shack. He waswatching two jujube-red horses galloping along the dirt road. Whenhe heard me calling to my buffalo, he looked round and started tomove back to the side of the road, his hands behind his back, pullinghis underpants away from his body so they wouldn't touch his bottom.The bloodstains on his underpants were already dark red, and therewere streaks of congealed red-brown blood on his bare chest and

upper back. He came to the side of the road, hanging his head.

'Hongqi said if you still want to ride today, you can, he doesn't wantany watermelons'. I said, and when I saw the state of his buttocks, Iadded, 'or any time you like, if you want to.'

'I won't be riding.'

'Scared your dad will beat you?'

Beansprout watched the road with its clouds of dust. He hung hishead low again, and dropped his voice with it.

'No', he said, 'I can't ride.'

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Galloping Horses