Page 59 - Vol. VII #7

man anymore! Not having testicles, Pei Pei realizes, ~
affects you beyond your penis not hardening. His cousin’s voice, not only is it not a man’s anymore, but it is not anything. Not exactly a woman’s voice. Not exactly a boy’s squealing. It is like talking while being choked: bass-less.
The next morning Pei Pei goes to his parents’ house to borrow some flour, and he hears his father talking on the phone. His father turns and smiles when he sees him coming in, and his mother gives him a large sack of flour, more than twice what she normally
“Give me a few weeks, Zhang,” he says. “Let me think gives him.
about it.”
“What’s there to think?” Zhang says. gong,” his father says. “Congratulations. Everyone here
“Well, it’s that Song and I want children.”
is very happy for you. Your mother and I are proud.”
“You can still have children. First put the bun in the
furnace, then take the position.” “Your brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, everyone in the
“Will the emperor wait that long?”
“What do you mean?” Zhang says. “How hard can it be?”
village,” his mother says. “Do you expect us to keep news as good as this to ourselves?”
“Well, we want more than one child. Do you think the emperor can wait a year or two?”
Pei Pei drops the sack of flour on the floor and covers his face. He sits down at his parents’ table and be- comes silent with his face still in his hands.
“I don’t think so. The emperor has already made
His father sits down next to him and pats his head. “You are young, Pei Pei,” his father says. “I know you are at an age when your genitalia are very important to you. But it would be irresponsible of you not to take this position. You are the oldest in the family, and you have responsibilities. Brother Zhang tells me the emperor has allowed you to have children. You still have time to help Song conceive. As your father, and as an old man, I can tell you that genitalia are not as important in the future as you think. You have noth- ing to worry about. You will still be normal. Better than normal, in fact. Everyone will look up to you.”
“His armies march across the provinces
waving blue banners with yellow half-moons, the new symbol for China.”
Pei Pei takes his face out of his hands. His face is cov- ered with flour, white as death. He sniffles, and then sneezes. Liquid drips out of his nose and his eyes and streaks through the flour like rivers.
many amendments regarding the appointment of gong-gongs. The emperor might start issuing an examination for it. This is an opportunity few people get. Think it over, Pei.”
“Let me get you a towel,” his mother says. She takes a dirty towel from the kitchen and wipes Pei Pei off.
“Brother Zhang tells me he can make you into a gong-
“What do you mean ‘everyone’?” Pei Pei asks.
Pei Pei hangs up the phone. It is October and winter comes early in the countryside. He is sitting in his mud shack, his legs crossed, huddling on his stone bed wearing his sheepskin coat, smelling of urine.
He turns around and looks at Song. She is squatting by the furnace, fanning the flames so she can begin to prepare dinner. She turns around, smiles, and says, “It’s cold tonight. Dinner shouldn’t be ready for a while.” What will happen if we have children? He can see them, noses running, huddling around the fire with Song, waiting for their dinner, trails of flame flickering onto their faces. She deserves better than this, he thinks.
He leaves his parents’ house and walks home, the sack swung over his shoulder. On the way back, he notices the new way people look at him. They nod when he passes them, and smile, showing him teeth. He passes his old teacher. “Finally making something of yourself,” his teacher says. Pei Pei walks faster. He looks down and tries to hide his face, and when he gets home, he locks the door and bars it with the sack.
“What’s wrong?” Song says.
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