It was dusk, almost 9:00 p.m., and the night dripped slowly from the sky as Feng Xiao trudged home from the fields, kicking one foot forward and dragging the other. He wanted to hurry home; he wanted to stay where he was. He wanted to be with his granny; he wanted to be alone.

This year, I'll stop playing. I'll study the ancient legends. I'll make my body strong. I'll swim upriver faster than Jiang. I'll write poetry. I'll sing. I'll be good to my parents. I'll hug my granny every day. I'll be a good boy. I'll keep my shirt clean. I'll feed the chickens every morning. I'll sell eggs at the market. I'll practice my arithmetic. I'll be a good boy. I already said that. Xiao giggled. It was his birthday and, as in every year since his earliest memory, he composed an impossible list of resolutions. One year he wrote them all down on paper, but this year paper was scarce, so he memorized them as he skipped down the rice path. Xiao had perfect memory (when he wanted to remember), but sometimes he needed to forget because some things were better left forgotten. I'll remember my birthday resolutions and practice them every day. I'll share them with Granny; she'll be so proud of me! Maybe Granny will boil an egg-maybe a red egg. I'm a man now: I'm thirteen, I deserve a boiled egg-a pretty red egg.

Xiao had taken the shortcut through the woods even though his parents had warned him to stay away from the forest to avoid the lurking danger, but Xiao didn't always listen to his parents. He preferred to try new things; he preferred to be an intrepid explorer, seeking the treasures and mysteries of the glorious days of China's past.

Then, from somewhere behind him, Xiao heard a twig snap and the sound of heavy breathing. Big breath, big sound, big animal-a man? Xiao wasn't sure what he heard, but he remembered how frightened his granny had been when he told her he liked to cut through the forest. There are animals . . . and there are animals. Never walk in the forest alone. Xiao had heard many sounds in his life, but he was a man now and knew he must put an eternal end to his fear. 'If you are fearful, the fear will come for you, but if you are feared, those around you will be fearful.' Those are Granny's words; I must believe them, no . . . I must live them. Xiao walked a little faster, spotting a lone light in the distant village. He didn't run, but he walked more rapidly now, as darkness covered the top of the forest and oozed down the tree trunks. Then, just as Xiao reached the forest edge, he thought again about his birthday present: he thought about that gloriously wonderful large warm red egg. I'll save it for tomorrow or maybe I'll save it for a week. Maybe I'll save it for a thousand years until it's as old as the Great Wall.

Xiao giggled again; he didn't like to giggle because it made him feel like a stupid child, but he couldn't help himself. I want a red envelope-even if it contains nothing but a single coin, I want a red envelope. Please remember my birthday! Please let me know you still love me.

Xiao's armpits were moist again, he wondered if it was those hairs up there, popping up out of no wear-on his arms-in his pits. He hoped no one would notice his smell, his sweat. I always make worthless resolutions on my birthday. I always pray for an egg and a red envelope filled with money, but the most I ever got was a red bottom on my eighth birthday. Xiao knew his family could afford a red egg as easily as they could afford sending him to Beijing to shake Chairman Mao's hand, but he wanted someone to remember his birthday. I want a red envelope; I want a red egg. Xiao chanted, hoping Kuan-Yin, the ancient goddess of the fields and forests, would hear him, hoping he'd find a red egg on the table when he got home, even though his gut told him there would never be an egg-red or brown or white-there would never be a present even though he was a man today. That would never happen again. This was it. This was the day. Manhood, glorious powerfully wonderful manhood.

After a long moment of gloom and despair, Xiao felt his armpits to make sure they had dried, and then he walked manfully into his parents' ten by ten-foot house, praying there'd be an egg waiting for him on the table. Instead, he saw the usual sight: Granny cutting broccoli, Mother arguing with Daddy, and yet in Xiao's soul-in his heart-in his spirit-he was certain there would be nothing new, nothing different, nothing wonderful on this his very extremely utterly special name day and the floorboards creaking with the weight of nothingness.

And at that moment, at age thirteen, Feng Xiao realized no one was ever going to hand him an egg in a chicken basket, no one was ever going to wash his elbows or tie his shoes and from this moment on, he would have to be the master of his own life, the arbitrator of his soul. Xiao looked at the three straw pallet beds butting against the wall and then he glanced at the small three and three-quarter legged table that wobbled when the chickens clucked, the unpainted bench, and the two unpainted chairs. And here in his house, there was no running water, and the only heat came from a kerosene heater Granny didn't like to run at night because it aggravated her asthma, so Xiao and his family shivered themselves warm from October to April even though Granny coughed all night long. The worst travesty, though, was the long walk to the toilets; it was worse than frozen toes and fingers when the wind blew because the toilets were in the middle of the village-six for men, six for women, and it took Feng Xiao five agonizing minutes to walk-run-skip-hot-hurry like bloody hell there . . . and five minutes was a very long time. Xiao once heard his mother tell his dad that they were the richest people in the village, but he knew she must have suffered from delusions sent by the spirits. We're not rich. Everyone in Shuoxian is poor. Why should it be any different for us?

The floor's clean, but the windows are dirty. The food is meager, but I eat twice a day. I have a shirt, pants, and underwear . . . even a pair of shoes. I guess there are boys worse off, but why can't I have an egg? Just one egg? Just one God damned egg? Xiao knew he was growing up now. He had never cussed-not even in his thoughts-until this moment-on the day that he had become a man.

"Happy birthday," XiaoXiao said as Xiao came to his senses and looked around. "Happy birthday," Xiao's Mother and Daddy shouted and Xiao thought it was the first time anyone had ever remembered his day.

Fengxia touched Xiao's arm and whispered, "Here's a red envelope, just don't tell your daddy!"

Xiao clutched the envelope tightly in his fist until his father turned his back, then he shoved it deep inside his shirt. By the time he glanced back at the table, he noticed an egg. "Is that egg-that red egg-for me?"

"Yes, my son," Feng Chung said. "You're a man today. We expect you to act like a man now. You'll also have more responsibilities, then perhaps next year, there will be another red egg for you."

Xiao glowed so warmly that Granny covered her face.

"From now on," Feng Chung continued, "you must feed the rabbits and chickens every day. You must sell the eggs at the market every Saturday. You must bring the money to Granny and come straight home-don't play: If you lose any money, you know we will starve. This is a big responsibility, but it will save your mother and your granny many hard hours of labor and it will make everyone's life easier."

"And take better care of your clothes," Granny chided. "You're not a boy any more. Today you are a man."

"I memorized my birthday resolutions. Would you like to hear them?" Xiao didn't wait for an answer as he began reciting. "I will sell the chicken and duck eggs. I will practice my arithmetic every day. I will make my body strong. I will be a good boy. I will learn how to sing. I will be good to my parents. I will hug Granny every day. I will keep my shirt clean. I will read more of the ancient legends. I shall feed the rabbits every day. I will stop playing. I will learn how to swim upriver. I will learn how to write poetry and mostly I will learn more of the ancient legends." Xiao skipped the part where he repeated he'd be a good boy: he didn't want to look stupid in front of his family. "I'll remember my birthday resolutions and practice them every day." Xiao didn't share his dream about the red egg or the red envelope, either: There were some things best left unsaid.

"Those are good resolutions, but I wonder how many days you'll keep them?"

"Three hundred and sixty-five,' Xiao laughed as he thought about the red envelope. He had heard jingling sounds when he hid it and he could think of nothing but the red envelope, what was inside it, what he could spend it on, how many times he could spend the money in his mind before he took it and poured it into some merchant's hands. Then, suddenly, impulsively, he wanted to take it outside, alone; he wanted to fondle it all night long.

"Daddy, can I sleep outside tonight? It's too hot in here. Can I spend the night outside?"

"Are you a duck now? Must you fly away, now that you are a man?"

"You know the foxes prowl at night, little chicken. Do you want to be eaten?"

"I'm not that little," Xiao laughed. "Besides, foxes are afraid of me. All the wild animals are afraid of me."

"All right then," Feng Chung said. "My young man can sleep outside tonight, but if you run into any foxes or if the wolves bite off your toes, don't come screaming for your mama or for me!"

Xiao kissed his parents and raced outside. This was the first time they had ever let him sleep outside alone. He wanted to be home, to sleep on his little mat, but he also wanted to be free; he wanted to have the rest of the night for himself.

After Xiao had run several kilometers, he saw a clearing at the edge of the forest and lay down. I'll sleep here all night, free and alone. Xiao looked up at a thousand million stars. The moon was full and there was one bright star next to the moon. Xiao opened the red envelope and shook out the contents, enough to buy a cake at the bakery . . . and perhaps a little more for a special treat for Jiang.

Xiao kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. I've never slept naked; I wonder what it's like. Xiao pulled off his shirt and slid off his pants. For an instant he was afraid. He was down to his underpants and wondered if the squirrels were watching him, but then, in one quick tug, Xiao pulled down his shorts and his tiny penis popped up and out like a chicken beak, bobbing up and down all by itself as his tiny moist testicles glimmering in the warm night air. Xiao touched himself and wondered if he dared play with it. He wondered what it would be like to do it alone, naked, outside. He slid all the way out of his underpants and rolled them up in a ball along with his socks and t-shirt to use as a pillow. Then he spread his trousers and shirt on the ground and lay down and within a few moments, he was snoring gently in the still night air.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Each day when Police Commissioner, Sung Li, arrived home-rested now that his official day was over. He took off his shoes and pounded off the dirt: it was the way he separated his professional life from his family life by putting them in different parts of his mind, locking them away from each other.

Inside, his wife and five children spilled out of their ten by twelve-foot house where the children wrestled-dragged-tugged-and yanked Sung Li across the threshold. Li's oldest son, nine-year-old Sung Qi-Han, jumped on Li's back. His eight-year-old son, Kwok-Chu, gave him a bear hug. His six-year-old son, Chin-Yi tugged on Sung Li's shirt and Li's only daughter, four-year-old Sung Tao stood in front of her father with her arms outstretched, waiting, knowing she was the most loved of all her daddy's children, and knowing he always saving the best for last. Then suddenly in one gigantic sweep, with Sung Qi-Han teetering on his back, Sun Li stooped down gathering up his remaining children and hugged them as if he was a growing playful bear. Then he knelt down to the floor and rollicked with all five-a heap of a bear covered with children as tiny arms flailed, and everyone tumbled into each other.

Then Li laughed and hugged his children one at a time. His house was small, but his heart was big. Next to his love for his wife, there was nothing more important for him than his children.

"Stop behaving like a child," Genji, screeched, "Do I have five children or six?"

"Seven," Sung Li said as he tugged Genji gently to the floor. "Maybe we're all children unwilling to grow up."

For several minutes, Sung Li and his family frolicked on the floor-rolling, wrestling, twisting and playing, but Qi-Han, the self-made man of the house, always won; he, alone, was able to beat his dad.

"You're the strongest," Sung Li laughed. "Perhaps you'll grow up to be a wrestler. Would you like that?"

Qi-Han almost never showed his emotions and he almost never spoke, but he glowed at the thought of growing up to become a professional fighter, envisioning himself as a warrior wrestling grown men to the ground.

"Listen to my story," Chin-Yi sang out in his girlish six-year-old voice. "Listen to my story, daddy." And for the next five minutes, Sung Li and his family listened as Chin-Yi struggled with the words of his first reader.

"What a brilliant boy," Sung Li said when the story was over. "I'm so proud to have you as my son. I'm so proud you're mine and that you always have time enough to play…even if your only playmate is a big old bear like me."

Sung Li raced around the room, knocking over chairs, grabbing at his children as they scampered around the room. Chin-Yi ran into Qi-Han and Sung Tao tripped over her own feet, but the game continued and none of the children wanted to stop, this was their only time with their dad.

"I know you children want to play all night," Genji said, emphasizing the word children, "but we must eat while the food is hot."

"We can always eat, but we might not have time to play," Sung Li said as he romped with the children one more time before leading-carrying-hugging them-pulling them to the table.

The family's meal consisted of nothing but a small bowl of rice and a few vegetables, but their happiness made up for the meal. "Don't climb all over me," Sung Li laughed, "there's enough food for everybody. Pretend we're at the emperor's table eating until our stomachs grow as big as the sea, knowing we have riches the emperor will never own."

No matter what Sung Li said, nothing ever made the children stop reaching over their father as they dug their chopsticks into the platter of food and, accidentally on purpose, into each other.

When Sung Li decided to put an end to the game by reaching for his children's chopsticks, his elbow slid across the table, nearly knocking the platter to the floor.

"You're such a silly oaf," Genji said. "Is that why I married you, because you're such a stilly oafish bear?"

"You never married me," Li said, "I was hunting deer in the forest, and I spotted you cowering in the bushes. I devoured you there. I ate you up and spit you out and now you sit across from me, the most beautiful woman in the province."

"You mean in the world, daddy," Sung Tao said.

"I stand corrected: your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world."

Cleaning up was simple. Genji washed the chopsticks and the large, chipped plate in a basin and set them on a shelf to dry. Then she joined the family as her husband shared his latest story.

Ten times ten centuries ago, Wen, an ancient magician, lived in a golden palace surrounded by ivory walls with six pearl gates. Although Wen never married, he enjoyed the company of his dog and his cat, who were his constant companions.

One evening, a thief scaled the ivory walls by jumping on the back of a passing elephant. When he reached the top, he was dazzled by Wen's golden mansion and the enormous garden that surrounded it. The garden was filled with seven thousand sweet scented flowers, four hundred fruit trees and a waterfall that cascaded pearls as big as my biggest toe.

The thief trampled a hundred and sixteen flowers as he raced toward the fruit trees, grabbing pears and apples, shoving them into his mouth and spitting out the seeds before he spotted the pearls that flowed out of the golden waterfall. Then he stood silently in anticipation for three minutes, thinking of the things he could buy and of the wife he could wed as he hurried to the waterfall, opened up his robe and caught nine gigantic pearls, funneling them into his oversized pockets.

Thinking of the treasures waiting inside, he crept into Wen's palace, filled with in-laid ivory tables, ebony chairs, ruby-encrusted walls, and solid gold floors. The thief was almost blinded by the beauty, but his greed was so great that he continued further and further into the room hoping to find a way to steal all the riches. As the thief rounded the corner, he saw an old man, a cat, and a dog sitting at a table.

The old man smiled at the dog and said, "What would you like for dinner, my friend?"

The dog barked three times and Wen nodded. "I thought so," he said as he lifted his magic ivory wand and chanted, "Lovely wand, bring my dog a fine bowl of beef."

A gigantic golden bowl of beef appeared out of the thin air and floated silently down to the table. Within a moment, the dog wolfed down all his food-until there was none left.

"And what would you like?" Wen asked the cat as she licked her paws, one by one. "The same as usual, I suppose." Then, without a moment's hesitation, Wen waved his magic wand and chanted, "Lovely wand, bring me fish." Immediately, a gigantic fish appeared on the table and the cat ate it daintily in tiny little bites.

Then the magician wished for duck and rice and vegetables for his own dinner.

After everyone had eaten, Wen put the wand on the table and went to bed. The dog and cat raced into the bedroom, but the cat leapt to the head of the bed and the dog was forced to sleep at the foot. Soon, however, the magician, the dog and the cat were all fast asleep within each other's arms . . . and paws.

The thief waited patiently until he was certain the man, the dog and the cat were all snoring. Then he stole the wand from the table and quickly fled the mansion.

First thing the next morning, Wen realized his wand was gone, but by then it was too late. He turned to the cat and the dog and asked, "Can you find my wand?"

Without a moment's hesitation, the dog and cat hurried off to find it.

For two long years, they searched every town and village in China, until they learned about a rich man who had appeared from nowhere and lived in a castle separated from the mainland by a mighty river.

"You're strong enough to carry me across the river," the cat said as she jumped on the dog's back and nipped on his ear, forcing him to swim more rapidly.

When they reached the distant shore, the cat hopped off the dog's back and raced up the hill. She crept silently into the mansion but slipped behind a curtain as soon as she heard someone entering. She peeked under the curtain and saw a man who was dressed in silk from head to toe with the magic wand hanging by a golden chain from his neck. Two strong men stood on either side of him.

The cat snuck out of a window and hurried back to the dog to ask for help. Together, they decided to wait until the thief left the castle, and when he went for a walk a few hours later, the dog pounced on the guards, knocked them to the ground and bit the thief on his right hand. While the dog was fighting for his life, the cat leapt on the thief's chest and, grabbing the wand with her paws meowed, "Lovely wand, take me home with you."

As the cat began to fade from his sight, the dog barked, "Wait for me, wait for me" but the cat vanished, leaving the dog to fend for himself.

The next instant, the cat was back in Wen's bedroom where she saw her old master coughing on his bed. The cat immediately dragged the wand to her master and gently laid it in his lap.

"You are so wonderful!" Wen shouted, "But where is the dog? Has he forgotten me? It's just like a dog to go off on his own."

The cat looked adoringly at her master as she made bread with her paws and purred loudly. Wen immediately realized that the dog had abandoned him just as he had feared.

Then the cat sat proudly on Wen's lap-knowing he was hers forever.

Meanwhile, Wen wished for a new mansion filled with treasures and he never thought about the dog until it showed up outside his door exactly one year later. The dog looked up pleadingly at Wen. It had lost its right ear and left eye and hobbled on three legs, but Wen didn't care. "Now that the cat has done all the work, you show up, you worthless cur! Shame on you! You're too late now, go away."

The cat, fat and sleek, strolled up behind Wen. "Tell him, tell him" the dog barked angrily, but the cat just licked herself as Wen slammed the door in the dog's face and as the dog barked, Wen shouted, "Shut up, or I'll send you off to the Himalayas."

Then the dog slunk away and the cat had Wen all to herself.

Li paused, thinking about Feng Xiao, knowing he was far superior to the boy, knowing the boy was as cunning as the cat, knowing cats would someday be eaten by the dogs.

Dogs all know this legend, Sung Li said as he gazed into the eyes of his oldest son: They know cats are treacherous beasts. That's why dogs hate cats to this very day.

The oldest children clapped loudly, waking Chin Yi, who had fallen asleep at his father's knees and rousing, Keun-Dong, who lay snoring on his father's lap.

Blackness had already settled on the rooftops by the time Sung Li finished his story and he could hear his children's soft sleepy breathing as he gazed into their half-opened eyes. One by one, he carried them to their pallet and covered them with their sole blanket. Then he joined his wife on their mat.

Sung Li entered Genji hard and firm as he always did, ramming back and forth in his act of love, knowing Genji was ready to have more children: she was one of fourteen (and Li one of nine); both he and Genji would be happy to have a dozen more.

Li's rutting was fast and hard; it was always more functional than romantic since neither Li nor Genji wanted to awaken the young children. They didn't want to expose them to sex until it was necessary . . . it was part of their family values. I learned about sex when I was seven, Sung Li thought, as he continued pumping his wife, too young, too young. I'll protect my boys from women for as long as I can.

Genji rolled over and snored gently, tired from her day's work and unfulfilled by love, while Sung Li lay quietly, plotting and planning. He had passed Feng Xiao's house on the way home and spoken briefly with XiaoXiao who informed him that it was Xiao's birthday and Xiao was going to prove his manhood by staying out all night in the forest. Such courage must be rewarded, Sung Li thought, and since it's Xiao's birthday, he must have a special gift as well.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Xiao dreamt that his warm hairy dog was lying on his back and, at first, it felt warm and comforting, but when it began pounding and pumping him, he tried to shake it off. Xiao felt something pungent shoved into his mouth-his underpants? His socks? He knew the smell, but he didn't know why he smelled them, tasted them. Gagging, nearly choking by the cloth and stench, Xiao struggled to rear up, but the pressure was too great and he fell back on his face, feeling the dirt filling his nostrils, gasping for breath.

Xiao was wide awake now-no longer dreaming. We don't have a dog! There's something on me that's heavier than a bear and it's entering me. The pain seared through his body. Something's probing me; something thick and hard is pushing against me. Xiao struggled, trying to rise, trying to get away, as fear overshadowed him.

"Don't move. Don't even breathe or I'll kill you," the bear said. "If you recognize my voice or ever say a word about this, I'll kill your granny, then I'll kill your parents, then I'll come back for you."

Why are you doing this? What have I done? What have I done? To Xiao it felt as if the bear was plunging a tree limb in and out of his rectum, burning him, destroying him.

What do you want from me? Why are you doing this? Xiao wanted to scream, but all he could do was utter a short 'uffing sound-like a dog in heat, like a cat in pain.

"Shut up. If you say a word, I'll kill you." As the bear spoke, his pumping continued more fiercely, harder and deeper, and Xiao fought against it by tightening his hole trying to defend his dignity, but the more he fought, the harder the rapist ravaged him.

Xiao felt the giant stick sliding back and forth, deep inside him now. In and out. In and out. Rough and raw.

"What-"

"One more word. You're dead!"

The rape lasted three minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

Feng Xiao felt the tree limb soften and withdraw, he felt the bear lift him up and toss him back down to the ground and he lay there crumpled, crying for a long moment until he realized he was free. The bear had clamored back to the village and Xiao dug his underpants out of his mouth, struggling to breathe and collapsed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Xiao awoke with the dawn. The bleeding had stopped, but his ass was sore. It felt as if he had shit for days and would never be able to shit again. Xiao tried to stand, but wobbled, fell to his knees, stood again, fell again, until finally, hugging a tree, he struggled to his feet. He tried to walk, taking a dozen mincing steps away from the tree, but again, he fell. For the second time in his life, he noticed his perspiration. His sweat saturated him-or was it the sweat of the beast that had fucked him? Xiao didn't know.

I must never tell Granny, I must never tell Mother; the bear will kill them if I do. Xiao dressed, slowly, deliberately, making sure the bloodstains and dirt didn't show through his clothing.

As Xiao hobbled home, the rapist's words hammered back at him: If you say a word, if you tell anyone about tonight, I will find you and I will kill you. Xiao couldn't identify the voice, but he knew he had heard it before. Now he wanted to remember the voice . . . and he wanted to forget.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By 4:00 a.m., Sung Li was hurrying home. He wanted to arrive before anyone awoke; his youngest son was usually crying by half past four. It was 4:15 a.m. by the time Sung Li crept into bed. If she asks, I'll tell Genji I heard a dog barking in the night-a wounded animal crying out for help. She'll believe me. She'll believe anything I tell her . . . and, after all, it was a good night for pussy cats and prowling dogs . . . it was a very good night, indeed.


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Butterflies and Moles
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