Free The Bridegroom by Ha Jin

inflicted a bruise on his wife’s chest.
    We were worried, too. Our company couldn’t afford to feed the tiger for long; besides, we had no place to shelter it for the coming winter.
    The following week, Secretary Feng held a staff meeting with us. We discussed the predicament at some length. Gradually it became clear that if we couldn’t find a substitute, we might have to use Huping again. The proponents of this idea argued their position logically and convinced us, its opponents, that this was the only way to get the job done.
    At the end of the meeting, Director Yu stressed that this time everything had to be accurately designed and calculated. The tranquilizer dart should carry a smaller dose so that the tiger would remain on its feet long enough for our hero to ride it a while. Also, we would have to be more careful not to let the beast hurt him.
    To our relief, when the leaders broached the plan with Huping, he eagerly agreed to fight the tiger again. He said that he’d live up to their expectations and that he felt fine now, ready for work. “I’m a tiger-fighter,” he declared. His voice was quite hoarse, and his eyes glittered.
    “Yes, you are,” agreed Secretary Feng. “All the provincial leaders are watching you, Huping. Try to do a good job this time.”
    “I shall.”
    So we trucked the tiger to the site the next morning. The weather happened to be similar to that of the previous time: a little overcast, the sun peeking through the gray clouds now and then. I identified the elm and the spot where the fight had taken place before. Huping sat on a boulder with a short cudgel across his naked back while the medic was massaging his shoulders. After a tranquilizer dart was shot into the tiger’s thigh, Huping rose to his feet and downed a bowl of White Flame in two gulps.
    Director Yu went over to give him instructions, saying, “Don’t lose your head. When I shout, ‘On the tiger!’ you get on its back, ride it for a while, then bring it down. Until it stops moving, keep punching its head.”
    “All right.” Huping nodded, his gaze fixed on the caged animal.
    In the distance, on the hillside, a few cows were grazing, the west wind occasionally blowing their voices to us.
    The tiger was let out. It pranced around, bursting with life. It opened its mouth threateningly. It began eyeing the distant cows.
    “Roll the camera!” shouted Director Yu.
    As Huping was approaching the tiger, it growled and rushed toward him. Our hero seemed stunned. He stopped and raised the cudgel, but the beast just pounced on him and pawed at his shoulder. With a heartrending cry, Huping dropped his weapon and ran toward us. The tiger followed, but having been caged for weeks, it couldn’t run fast. We scattered in every direction, and even the camera crew deserted their equipment. Huping jumped, caught a limb of the elm, and climbed up the tree. The animal leaped and ripped off Huping’s left boot, and instantly a patch of blood appeared on his white sock.
    “Save me!” he yelled, climbing higher. The beast was pacing below the tree, snarling and roaring.
    “Give it another shot!” Director Yu cried.
    Another dart hit the tiger’s shoulder. In no time it started tottering, moving zigzag under the elm.
    We watched fearfully while Huping yelled for help. He was so piteous.
    The tiger fell. Director Yu was outraged and couldn’t help calling Huping names. Two men quietly carried the cage over to the motionless animal.
    “Idiot!” Director Yu cursed.
    The medic wiggled his fingers at Huping. “Come down now, let me dress your foot.”
    “No.”
    “The tiger’s gone,” a woman said to him.
    “Help me!” he yelled.
    “It can’t hurt you anymore.”
    “Shoot him!”
    No matter how many comforting words we used, he wouldn’t come down from the tree. He squatted up there, weeping like a small boy. The crotch of his pants was wet.
    We couldn’t wait for him like this forever. So Secretary Feng, his face puffy