Free The Bridegroom by Ha Jin Page B

no need to persuade our hero. Just at the mention of beating a fake tiger, Huping got excited, itching to have a go. He declared, “I’m still a tiger-fighter. I’ll whip him!”
    Because the shooting could be repeated from now on, there wasn’t much preparation. We set out for the woods in just one truck. Old Min sat in the cab with a young actress who was allergic to the smog and wore a large gauze mask. On the way, Huping grinned at us, gnashed his teeth, and made hisses through his nose. His eyes radiated a hard light. That spooked me, and I avoided looking at him.
    When we arrived at the place and got off the vehicle, he began glaring at Old Min. The look on his face suggested intense malice. It made me feel awful, because he used to be such a good-hearted man, gentle and sweet. That was another reason why the girls had called him Prince.
    Old Min changed his mind and refused to play the tiger. Director Yu and Secretary Feng tried to persuade him, but he simply wouldn’t do it, saying, “He thinks he’s a real tiger-killer and can have his way with me. No, I won’t give him the chance.”
    “Please, he won’t hurt you,” begged Director Yu.
    “Look at his eyes—they give me goose bumps. No, I won’t have anything to do with him.”
    Desperate, Secretary Feng shouted at us, “Who’d like to play the tiger?”
    There was no response, only a grasshopper snapping its whitish wings in the air. Then an explosion was heard from the distant mountain, where granite was being quarried.
    Director Yu added, “Come on, it will be fun, a great experience.” Seeing nobody step forward, he went on, “I’ll treat whoever takes the part to an eight-course dinner.”
    “Where will you take him?” asked the young truck driver, Little Dou.
    “Four Seas Garden.”
    “You really mean it?”
    “Of course—on my word of honor.”
    “Then I’ll try. I’ve never been in a movie, though.”
    “You know the story
Wu Song Beat the Tiger,
don’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Just imagine yourself as the tiger being beaten by the hero. Crawl and roll about, keep shaking your head until I say, ‘Die.’ Then you fall down and begin to die slowly.”
    “All right, I’ll give it a shot.”
    Huping was already in his outfit, but this time not wearing the cudgel.
    They wrapped the small driver in the tiger’s skin and tied the strings around his belly. Director Yu said to him, “Don’t be scared. Try to be natural. He’ll wrestle with you bare-handed. This tiger skin is so thick that nothing can hurt you.”
    “No problem.” The driver spat on the ground, then pulled on the tiger’s head.
    The director raised his hand, an unlit cigarette between his index and middle fingers. “Action!” he called.
    The tiger crawled into the grass, wandering with ease. Its rump swayed a little. Huping leaped on its back and began riding it around, shouting, “Kill!” Gripping its forelock with his left hand, he hit the tiger hard on the head with his right fist.
    “Oh, Mama!” the tiger squealed. “He’s killing me!”
    Huping kept punching until the tiger staggered, then collapsed. Just as we were about to intervene, Director Yu motioned for us not to move. Old Min laughed boisterously, bending forward and holding the swell of his belly with both hands. “Oh my! Oh my!” he kept saying.
    Meanwhile, Huping was slapping the tiger’s face and spat on it as well. The animal screamed, “Spare me! Spare me, Grandpa!”
    “He’s hurting him,” said Secretary Feng.
    “It’s all right,” Director Yu assured him, then turned to the crew. “Keep the camera rolling.”
    I said, “If he cripples Little Dou, it’ll cost us lots.”
    “Don’t put such a jinx on us!” the director snapped at me. I held my tongue.
    Finally, Huping got off the motionless tiger, but then he started in ferociously kicking its flank, head, neck, face. His boots produced muffled thuds as he cursed, “Kill this paper tiger! I’m going to finish him