When Baila heard this, she jumped up, shouting that Cuomu had been spoilt by her father and would not even listen to her elders.
Cuomu had stood up too, and stabbed her knife into the yak meat. Tilting her head towards Danzeng, who seemed to be buried in his cup of tea, she shouted, ‘Aba, if you and Ama find a man for me behind my back, I’ll leave the grassland and become a nanny in the city!’ In the last few years, several girls who were unhappy at home had gone to the city to become nannies, cooking and taking care of other people’s children. When they came back they wore showy clothes and no longer seemed like grasslanders.
‘Just you try it!’ Baila slammed down her tea and stared at her. ‘If you dare go, I’ll break your legs!’
‘If you find me a man behind my back, you just see if I dare!’ Cuomu snorted. She slammed down her fist and strode out of the tent.
As she clasped her shins and gazed at the mountains, Cuomu’s tears fell like rain. Behind her, the black tents stood in rows; in the distance, the yaks and sheep wandered slowly. Gongzha, I miss you so much – do you still miss me?
Just then Shida walked over, sat down beside her, and said quietly, ‘Are you thinking about him again?’
‘He said that next time he comes home, he won’t leave again. Do you think he’ll really stay, Shida?’
‘If he said he’ll stay, he’ll definitely stay. When do we grassland men not keep our word?’ Shida plucked a blade of grass and put it in his mouth.
‘That’s true – he’s still one of us!’ Cuomu laughed and was a little ashamed to have doubted her lover.
‘Is your mother still against it?’
‘I’ve thought about it, Shida, and when he comes back this time, whether Ama agrees to it or not, I’m going to marry him.’ She had a determined expression on her face.
After a brief silence, Shida said lightly, ‘Would you never consider anyone else?’
‘Shida, I’m sorry. I know you have feelings for me, and I know you’ve tried twice to come to my tent, but my heart only has room for him and no one else.’ Cuomu spoke with her head lowered. ‘Yangji’s a good girl – go and have a serious talk with your father and marry her.’
‘They’ve already made a marriage arrangement for her, didn’t you know? With someone from across the lake.’ Shida gave a dry laugh.
‘Isn’t that because you gave up?’ Cuomu turned to look at him. ‘Yangji’s been waiting for you all these years, but your father has never sent anyone to her family to discuss marriage.’
Shida avoided her gaze. ‘Cuomu, I—’
‘Shida, you and Gongzha are good friends. I’ve never hidden my feelings from you. I will never marry anyone but Gongzha. Yangji likes you – if you go to her family, you’ll still be in time.’
Shida shook his head obstinately. ‘If you can wait for Gongzha, I can wait for you!’
‘That’s asking for trouble!’ Cuomu laughed bitterly and turned back to the mountains.
While Shida and Cuomu were talking, Luobudunzhu was at Cuomu’s family tent. He gave Baila a thick shawl, and Baila cheerfully busied herself making tea for her guest.
‘Cuomu just went out, Luobu, dear. Sit and I’ll pour you some tea.’
‘I’ll help you, Ama.’ Luobudunzhu wasn’t sure when he’d started calling Baila ‘Ama’ instead of ‘Auntie’, but Baila had tacitly agreed to this change.
‘How are things with you and our Cuomu, Luobu? Have you made any progress?’
‘Ama, Cuomu… she… doesn’t seem to like me.’
‘How could that be? You’re so capable and handsome. Luobu, you’re a man – you need to be more proactive.’
‘I’ve already gone to her several times, but it’s no good. The dog at her door is fierce and I can’t get into her tent.’
‘That’s easily dealt with. I’ll get her uncle to take the dog away tonight.’
‘Thank you! Thank you, Ama.’ Luobudunzhu was so delighted that he gave the table a vigorous kick and the tea water went flying.
That night, Cuomu brought the sheep back, took the two lamb chops her mother had prepared specially for her, threw one to the dog at her door and chewed on the other herself. She lit the stove, poured in a shovel of sheep droppings, closed the door against the wind and put the kettle on to boil; the tent soon warmed up. Humming herders’ songs, she took off her thick chuba and changed into a long silk dress. The hearts of all the young men watching ached at the sight of her lovely silhouette, clearly visible on the outside walls of her tent.
Hearing movement outside, Cuomu stopped washing her face, lifted her head and asked, ‘Who’s there?’
‘It’s me.’ It was her youngest uncle’s voice. ‘I’m taking the dog. We’re afraid the wolves will come tonight, and the sheep-pen needs him.’
Cuomu agreed and thought nothing of it. These past couple of days there’d been a rumour flying around that the chain that tethered the Wolf Spirit to the top of Mount Chanaluo had stretched, and that meant wolves would be coming to terrorise the grassland again. Every family had sent people to the sheep pens to keep watch through the night. The yak-pens weren’t such a worry; yaks were large and the young men who watched over them were the strongest in the encampment, so the wolves wouldn’t bother them. But sheep were docile by nature and wolves understood them better than anyone. Faced with danger, sheep would immediately try to escape, and that made them an easy target. As long as the wolves didn’t run into any humans, there would be rich pickings.
The wolves of northern Tibet tended to act alone, unwilling to share their food unless they were desperate, or to put themselves in unnecessary danger. When a pack of wolves went out, they risked getting picked off by a gun before they’d even got near their prey. Guns were unpredictable and could move in any direction; even the fiercest wolf was no match for a hunter.
There were many people in Cuomu’s family, so night-watch duty had not yet fallen to Cuomu herself. And being the only child with four adults doing everything they could to keep her safe and well, it was unlikely she’d be asked to go. How could they make her spend the night at the sheep pen in the company of a group of foul-smelling men?
Baila thought well of Luobudunzhu, and Cuomu’s father and uncles had nothing against him. Among all the young men of the grassland, Luobudunzhu stood out, and his family circumstances were good. There were four brothers; he was the eldest and he was clever and hard-working. He’d recently fallen in with some Khampas who’d come to the grassland on business, looking for antiques. Rumour had it that he’d made quite a bit of money. A smart man could make life comfortable for a woman, protecting her from the worst of the relentless wind and sand. Even though Danzeng secretly approved of Gongzha, he knew that his brothers and his wife were angry about his relationship with Dawa, so when they paid repeated visits to Luobudunzhu, he didn’t dare say anything.
Shida didn’t know why, but that night he couldn’t sleep. The news that Yangji was going to get married made him uncomfortable. He was not unaware of Yangji’s feelings for him, but he’d always liked Cuomu. Even though he often went dog-driving to Yangji’s tent, that was just how the young men and women of the grassland spent their lonely evenings. There were no promises, no spiritual bonding, just two bodies coming together. No one expected it to be a long-term thing.
That was the way Shida thought, and the way he acted. Even as he gave his body to one woman, in his heart he was thinking of another. But Yangji felt quite differently. She loved Shida and she was hurt by his behaviour. She’d waited so long for him to come and seek her in marriage, and when he didn’t, her heart froze like the waters of Cuoe Lake in winter, and she was angry.
That night, as she’d watched Shida and Cuomu sitting talking together on the plain, so close they seemed like lovers, her tears had fallen uncontrollably. She had intended to wait for Shida to come back, but in the end she welcomed another man to her tent for the first time. For no other reason than to forget.
Shida stood outside Yangji’s tent in
the moonlight. When he heard the laughter inside, he retreated silently. He felt strangely unmoved. Letting his body do the talking had been easy enough, but his heart was a lot more choosy.
All of a sudden, screams and curses ripped through the quiet night. They came from Cuomu’s white tent.
Cuomu had been in a deep sleep when suddenly she felt someone pressing down on her and pulling at her clothes. She yelled out and reached for the dagger by her pillow, but before she got the chance to use it, her arm was grabbed.
‘Cuomu, it’s me!’
‘Luobudunzhu, you bastard, get out!’
‘Cuomu, my snow lotus, be my woman. I think of you every night – I think of you so much, I can’t sleep.’ Luobudunzhu lay down on top of her and began smothering her face with kisses.
‘You bastard, fuck off!’ Cuomu pushed him hard and shouted for her uncles, mother, and father in the next tent, but no one responded.
‘Don’t shout – your mother agreed to my coming. If she hadn’t made your uncle take your dog away, how could I have got in?’ Luobudunzhu lifted up her underwear. As she lay there trembling, her full breasts gleaming in the moonlight, her body seemed to glow. He was mesmerised.
‘I don’t want to! I don’t want to!’ Cuomu shrieked, kicking and scratching and leaving a bloody trail across Luobudunzhu’s face.
‘Hey, hey, don’t yell. Tonight I will make you my woman, and tomorrow I’ll get my family to come and discuss marriage. Come on, my snow lotus!’ Luobudunzhu tried to tug down her pants.
‘No!’ Cuomu screamed piteously. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break free of this man, so fired up with lust. ‘Luobudunzhu, Gongzha will kill you when he comes back – if you dare touch his woman, he won’t let you get away with it.’
‘What right does he have to compete with me? What has he got that I haven’t?’
It would have been better if Cuomu hadn’t brought up Gongzha. At the mention of his name, a burst of ruthless anger surged through Luobudunzhu. He thought of the night they’d had a struggle session for the old living Buddha and how Gongzha’s angry eyes had remained fixed on him throughout, as if it had been his own father they’d tied up. He was a little afraid of those eyes, because their expression was like that of a bloodthirsty leopard, and he was its prey.
Just when he was on the point of getting his way, the tent flap moved and a figure came in, followed by a rush of freezing wind.
‘Cuomu…’
‘Shida, help me!’ Cuomu shouted in desperation.
‘This is none of your business,’ Luobudunzhu snarled at Shida from where he was lying on top of Cuomu. ‘Get the fuck out.’
Shida immediately withdrew. According to the rules of the grassland, when a man was visiting a woman’s tent, regardless of whether she had agreed to it or not, no one else could interfere.
‘No, Shida, help me!’ Cuomu repeated. ‘I beg you, help me!’
Shida spun round and went back into the tent. He yanked Luobudunzhu upright and punched him in the face. Luobudunzhu stumbled to one side, clutching his cheek.
Cuomu leapt up, pulled down her clothes and grabbed her knife, ready to rush over.
Shida held her back.
‘Let go of me! I’ll kill him, the bastard – how dare he touch me!’ Cuomu struggled and waved the knife in the air, her eyes burning with hatred.
Shida pulled at her arm. ‘Forget it, Cuomu. Just be a little more careful next time.’
Luobudunzhu scrambled up, a streak of blood at the corner of his mouth. He glared viciously at the two people by the bed, especially Shida. If Shida hadn’t burst in, Cuomu would have been his tonight. The more Luobudunzhu thought about it, the angrier he got. Eventually, without any thought for the consequences, he grabbed the gurgling pot of boiling water from the stove and swung it at Shida. Shida dodged, but the pot hit his leg. The boiling water soaked through his trousers and the stabbing pain made him stagger.
‘Shida!’ Cuomu cried as she held him upright. Turning to Luobudunzhu, she laughed coldly. ‘What a bastard you are, Luobudunzhu – you fail to seduce me, so you resort to violence instead? If you think you’re going to be my man, you’re dreaming. I’ll never accept you.’
‘Fine. You won’t be my woman, you want to be Gongzha’s woman, you want to be that nothing’s woman… Fine, fine…’ Luobudunzhu bellowed, his eyes red. He pulled his knife from his belt and hurtled over. Shida pushed Cuomu out of the way and the knife plunged into his chest. Warm blood spurted out.
Danzeng, Baila and Yangji came running into the tent at Cuomu’s screams. When they saw the blood on Shida’s chest, they froze. Danzeng was the first to react and quickly helped Cuomu support Shida out of the tent. Luobudunzhu fled immediately.
When Shida’s parents saw Danzeng helping their bloody son into their tent, they were so frightened, they didn’t know what to do. Danzeng called to the women to help Shida onto the bed. Then he told everyone what had happened.
Shida’s uncle stood up with a roar, drew his knife and was about to rush out, but Danzeng held him back. ‘Help the boy first. Deal with the rest later.’
‘Uncle, Father, forget it. Don’t go after him!’ Shida also tried to stop his raging uncle.
Yangji helped Shida’s mother take off Shida’s robe and use clean strips of cloth to bind the wound, but the blood continued to gush out. Shida was obviously and rapidly losing colour, and his vision began to go cloudy.
‘What can we do?’ Yangji started crying.
There was no doctor in the encampment. Before, the herders used to consult the living Buddha of Cuoe Temple when they were sick. But now the living Buddha had been forced to resume a secular life, had been beaten into a cow-ghost snake-spirit, and had become the lame Zhaduo. With that kind of history, who would dare ask for his help? Especially given that, back during his struggle session, Shida’s parents had been the first to rush at him.
‘It’s after midnight – we can’t go to the town,’ Danzeng said.
‘Find Uncle. Doesn’t Uncle know some medicine?’ Cuomu said, looking at her father expectantly.
Shida’s father also looked at Danzeng. He was the team leader. If he nodded, that would make whatever followed a little better.
‘We can’t overthink it. Cuomu, go and get your uncle and explain everything to him,’ Danzeng said, looking first at Shida and then back at his daughter. ‘Shida’s mother, light two more lamps and make the tent brighter.’
Cuomu ran out. A short while later she returned, bringing lame Zhaduo with her.
Zhaduo did not greet anyone; he went straight to the bed and glanced at Shida, then pulled a medicine pellet from his chuba and stuffed it into Shida’s mouth. Yangji served Shida a little hot water.
After watching him swallow, Zhaduo began to undo the strips of cloth. ‘Bring a bowl of water!’
Shida’s mother quickly did as he’d asked.
Zhaduo used a cloth to carefully clean away the blood. Then he pulled a bottle of medicine from his chuba and shook some powder onto the wound. Once the bleeding had stopped, he found some clean cloths and bound up the wound again. By the time he’d finished, it was almost dawn. Zhaduo straightened up and said, ‘He’s lost too much blood. Once it’s light, find some Party medicine for him to take.’
‘Party medicine’ was what north Tibetan herders called Western medicine. In the past, the grassland hadn’t had Western medicine, but after the Eighteenth Army Corps had come to Tibet and the Han doctors had walked out onto the Changtang Plateau to treat the herders, it began to spread. Because the Communist Party brought it, the herders called it Party medicine.
Danzeng left for the town in the morning. He returned shortly before nightfall, bringing with him a bespectacled Han army doctor with a medical bag on his back. The two of them went straight to Shida’s tent.
When the people in the encampment heard that a young Han doctor had come, they gathered outside Shida’s family tent, gossiping about the new arrival. Because Cuoe was deep in th
e grassland, it seldom saw outsiders, let alone a Han doctor. ‘I heard my man say his last name is Zhuo – he’s called Zhuo Mai,’ Baila whispered to her neighbours, deliberately mysterious. ‘He’s in the Border Defence Regiment. My man ran into him in the town. When he told his leaders about Shida’s injury, they told him to come and take care of it.’
The herders began swarming up to the tent door, craning their necks and trying to catch a glimpse of Shida with all the white cloths wrapped around his chest. His father was standing by the bed, holding up a bottle with a tube coming out of it, and the tube was stuck into Shida’s wrist. Shida’s colour was much better than it had been that morning and people were clicking their tongues in amazement. Those at the back couldn’t see, so they kept jumping up and supporting themselves on the shoulders of the people in front of them, which won them a stream of curses.
Dr Zhuo stood up and smiled at the people around the door. ‘Come in, dear friends,’ he said. ‘Let me give you all a check-up.’ His fluent Tibetan shocked the herders.
They shuffled in sheepishly, pushing one another along.
Danzeng took control. ‘Come on in. Line up one by one and don’t crowd,’ he said.
Young and old alike were curious to see what was happening, and the queue was long. One at a time, they stood in front of Dr Zhuo, their heads bowed. When the doctor lifted his stethoscope to listen to their chests, some of them couldn’t help doubling over with laughter. Danzeng put on a sober expression and shouted, ‘Be a little more serious. If you carry on laughing, you won’t be examined.’ The laughers straightened up and deliberately kept their faces taut so he couldn’t tell whether they found it funny or not. Those who got a pellet or two of medicine left proudly under envious gazes.
On the grassland, conflicts were traditionally resolved either by taking revenge in blood, or by accepting money instead. On the third day, under the supervision of a clan elder, the two families came together and a yak was give in compensation for Shida’s injury.
Love In No Man's Land Page 9
