The Garlic Ballads

County Chief, your hands aren’t big enough to cover heaven!

Party Secretary, your power isn’t as weighty as the mountain!

You cannot hide the ugly events of Paradise County,

For the people have eyes—

— At this point in Zhang Kou’s ballad a ferocious policeman jumped to his feet and cursed, “You blind bastard, you’re the prime suspect in the Paradise County garlic case! We’ve got you dead to rights!” He kicked Zhang Kou in the mouth, cutting off the final note. Blood spurted from Zhang Kou’s mouth; several white teeth hit the floor. Zhang Kou climbed back into the chair; the policeman sent him back to the floor with another kick. Garbled speech spilled from Zhang Kou’s lips, scaring the interrogators, even though they hadn’t understood a word of it. The chief interrogator stopped the policeman from kicking him a third time, as another man bent down and sealed Zhang Kou’s mouth with a plastic gag.

1.

Shouting erupted in the corridor, followed by the clanging of cell doors being thrown open. Gao Yang’s was one of them. A gaunt, sharp — featured policeman stood in the doorway; he smiled and nodded. Realizing that he was being summoned, Gao Yang slipped on his shoes and tied the laces, noticing the opaque skin around his injured ankle, and the green-tinted, shifting pus lying just below the surface. He limped to the doorway, where the mysterious smile frozen on the policeman’s face had an ominous effect on him. He smiled foolishly in return, as if to ingratiate himself and lessen the psychological pressures at the same time.

The policeman no sooner raised his hand than Gao Yang stuck out his arms, wrists together. The policeman retreated a step in the face of such immediate cooperation before separating Gao Yangs hands slighdy and snapping on the cuffs. Then, with a slight jerk of the head, he signaled Gao Yang out into the corridor, where policemen were putting handcuffs on other prisoners. Gao Yang glanced bashfully at his escort, recalling seeing him in the government compound. With a nudge from behind he fell in alongside other prisoners, who filed into the prison yard, where they were told to form a line and count off. There were ten in all. Someone grabbed Gao Yang’s arms. By cocking his head to the left he saw the sharp-featured policeman who had handcuffed him, and by twisting to look behind him he saw another policeman — fat, with pinched lips and puffy cheeks, clearly someone who would brook no nonsense. For some strange reason, Gao Yang tried to look up at the electrified wire atop the wall, but his neck stiffened up on him.

He was last in line, in a column so straight that all he could see were the three backs in front of him, a black one sandwiched between two white ones.

As they filed through the prison gate it dawned on him why he wanted to look at the electrified wire: during the previous day’s exercise period a piece of red cloth hung from the wire, and the old hooligan with whom he had first shared a cell was staring up at it. The malicious middle-aged convict walked up and winked at Gao Yang. “You’re being questioned tomorrow,” he said, “and your wife came to visit you.” Gao Yang stood there, mouth agape, unable to say a word. The other man changed the subject. “The old bastard’s lost his mind. That’s his daughter-in-law’s waistband hanging up there. Know what the old bastard does? Know his name? Know how the old bastard tricked his daughter-in-law? Know who his son is?” Gao Yang shook his head in response to each question. “Well, I can’t tell you,” the man said. “The shock would kill you.”

He squirmed in the grip of the two policemen as they walked, which only made them grip him more tightiy. “Keep moving,” one of them whispered into his left ear, “and don’t try anything funny.”

Crowds lined the road, eyes staring and mouth slack, as if waiting to snap at some floating object.