The Year of the Rabbit

2122. The Year of the Horse

Solongo adjusted the cushion behind her back in the rocking chair to ease the pressure on her aching lower spine, then blew out another ring of smoke. Absent-mindedly, she kept stroking her pipe with her thumb. Gantulga, her son-in-law, had crafted a new mouthpiece for it as a birthday gift. A truly thoughtful man. Solongo was fond of him and glad that her daughter, Narantuya, had chosen him as her husband.

Feeling content and well-fed, she gazed out beneath the starry sky. The celebration of her seventieth year had been a wonderful success. Many from the village had attended, perhaps everyone, but what mattered most was that Batzorig had recovered from the fever and cold that had kept him bedridden for days, and as the proud head of the family, he was able to sit beside her during the meal, just as he had been by her side throughout their entire adult lives, holding her hand and caressing her with his loving gaze, day after day. Yet, their story didn't begin that way at all.

*****

2071. The Year of the Rabbit

Solongo sat alone in the vast industrial hall. Around her were thousands upon thousands of people, all of whom had arrived with partners, family members, or friends. Yet she sat alone in silent solitude in the middle of the crowd.

Somehow, she hadn't fully thought this through when she responded to the advertisement. After all, they weren't looking for couples, but for vigorous young people. It hadn't even occurred to her to come with someone. She wouldn't have had anyone to come with anyway, since as a nineteen-year-old girl, the thought of starting a family hadn't even crossed her mind. She was content just supporting herself through honest work, and she truly had neither the time nor the energy for dating.

She had been waiting for hours for the number she'd been given at the entrance gate to appear on the huge display screen. She pulled a slightly squashed sandwich out of her backpack and began to nibble on it while looking around. She had forgotten about it when she sat on the floor and placed the bag under herself, so the soft bread now came out of the napkin as a crushed, wilted lump.

During lunch, she tried to imagine what the house, which she hoped she would receive, might be like. The advertisement stated that those deemed suitable would be granted a plot of land with a house, which she really wanted, because she was already fed up with the barely heated, cockroach-infested rented apartment where she had been living for the past two years.

She worked as a dishwasher in a cheap diner; her salary leaving no room for grand dreams, or rather, it allowed only for dreams, while the reality of a better life remained blocked off from her like a concrete wall. Yet, she yearned for more. Not much, but more. She did not want wealth, only a peaceful life built on honest work. A home, and within it, a husband, and a child.

That was why she responded to an advertisement in which twelve thousand people were seeking to cultivate the desert. At first, she laughed at the text, but it stayed on her mind for days, until she finally looked up the detailed call for applicants.

The investors wanted to utilize the northern steppes, not the desert, which sounded much better than looking for workers for the southern sand dunes. Everyone knew that in the south no life could take root within the desert hell of salt marshes and saline basins. In the north, however, various works to transform the natural environment had already been underway for years, at least according to the news reports.

A complex "greening" initiative had been started, in the framework of which water was channeled into artificially created riverbeds in the steppic, semi-desert area using automatic irrigation canals; then, sparsely planted tree groves were established, and more than a million rabbits were released into the wild.

In search of roots and other food, the animals dug up the earth, thereby aerating the soil, while their droppings served as fertilizer. They multiplied rapidly. A single female could produce up to forty offspring a year, so they soon populated the forty-thousand-square-kilometer territory, and ninety-five percent of the planted vegetation survived.

Then came the time to introduce predators to keep the rabbit population from exploding. But here was the twist. Instead of bringing in foxes or wolves, they began developing a basic infrastructure designed to create living spaces suitable for humans.

They built a network of roads, piped drinking water into village centers, and laid underground cables for electricity and internet access. Houses and public buildings were erected, followed by an advertisement which was seeking strong, healthy individuals for demanding but well-paid work.

There was a huge oversubscription. The hall was filled with people from the poorer segments of society, joined by all kinds of adventurers, fortune hunters, and homeless people with nothing left to lose. Looking at the crowd, the girl saw less and less hope her of being among the chosen ones.

The screening of the applicants dragged on late into the night. The hall began to empty. Trash, paper bags, and plastic cups lay scattered everywhere. The cleaners had already begun tidying up. Moving back and forth through the building with wide brooms, they swept the filth left behind by the people into foul-smelling piles.

Solongo tried to buy a coffee from a vending machine tiredly, but every single compartment stood already gaping empty. Finally, shortly before midnight, her number appeared on the display. She grabbed her backpack and headed toward the far end of the hall, the direction in which she had seen people disappear earlier that day.

She was ushered into a smaller room, perhaps a hundred square meters in size, along with a few dozen others, among whom were men and women, young and middle-aged, the poor and the destitute. She soon realized what they all had in common that they were all alone.

An clerk-looking man gave a simple directions. They only needed pairs. Those who were alone were being excluded, therefore, they were given one hour to choose a partner from among the people in the room. Anyone who remained alone, or who refused to pair up with anyone, was free to leave.

Solongo got scared. The idea of ​​teaming up with a stranger, someone she knew absolutely nothing about, was out of the question. She knew nothing of their character or habits, which they might not even be able to stand being in the same room. She was most afraid of violent people. She hated their tyrannical nature with imposing arbitrary rules. Or perhaps she might ended up with a lazy, sluggish man, leaving her to do everything instead of him. Or a drunken troublemaker, or a gambler who would squander everything they had worked for.

After a few minutes of thought, she decided to just go home. She thought sadly of the wasted day. She took a day off just to come here. She told her boss that her mother had been hospitalized, so she was given a single day, and it was all for nothing.

She was almost out of the room when someone gently touched her arm, and when she turned around, a young man standing behind her, trying to smile nervously, while crumpling his cap in his hand.

The boy motioned for her to step aside, toward the wall, and there, speaking rapidly, as if reciting a rehearsed text, he explained that his name was Batzorig, he was twenty-two years old, his parents were dead, he had no siblings, and he had also lost his job, leaving him to sleep in a homeless shelter for the past week while spending his days wandering the streets, but he insisted he would never go back to that life, he would rather kill himself, so he earnestly asked her to consider choosing him as her partner, because he was a decent, hardworking man, not afraid of work, and kind to everyone.

Solongo smiled involuntarily, because she had never heard such a long sentence from anyone before. A single sentence containing a whole lifetime, or at least as much as could fit into twenty-two years. She didn't really like the boy, but she thought it was worth a try to talk to him for a bit, from which a few things might come to light, helping her decide what to do.

Batzorig answered all her questions respectfully, and modestly asked about the girl's life and circumstances. They discussed why each of them had applied, what their plans were, and what goals drove them. Finally, Solongo offered a partnership on the condition that any closer relationship would only happen between them when she decided so. And if this moment never came, then they would never have anything more to do with each other than being married on paper for the sake of their common goal.

The boy looked into her eyes for a long, silent moment, then nodded slowly, perhaps a bit sadly. They they shook hands, sealing the agreement they had made in the hope of a better life.

They stood in line together, amidst the other couples who had suddenly committed to one another, stealing glances at each other, while they signed the documents with slightly trembling hands, declaring that they had come forward voluntarily and were marrying of their own free will.

After that, they were ushered into another room and another line, where an official quickly rushed through the "weddings", and then finally, at two in the morning, the tired people were led into yet another room, where they each was given a sleeping bag so they wouldn't have to lie on the floor.

Batzorig found a spot for them by the wall, where they could be relatively comfortable. He laid out and arranged a sleeping space, first for the girl, then for himself, and carefully zipped Solongo into her sleeping bag before thinking of himself.

Despite her fatigue, sleep eluded Solongo for a long time. She felt quite apprehensive, and perhaps even regretting having rushed into this marriage, and this whole impossible undertaking. She tried to think of it as an adventure, but her serious nature would not allow her such foolishness. Her somewhat anxious disposition listed a thousand counterarguments, but then Batzorig whispered softly to her not to be afraid, that he would protect her and take care of them both. Solongo thought of the boy's serious brown eyes, and of the way he had crumpled his cap in front of her, and with a cautious, softly fluttering soul, she believed him.

*****

In the morning, after waiting in yet another line, they boarded trucks and rumbled northward for kilometers. The landscape around them gradually altered. Larger towns, then smaller ones, and finally even the villages fell away, until, wherever they looked, there was nothing to see but a steppe sparsely planted with trees, and houses arranged in strict order around a central square, laid out along a grid of streets.

This will be theirs out of the twelve villages, where they would live and work together with a thousand of their companions for the rest of their lives. They received the house designated for them, which would become their home, if it is true. Solongo did not dare to think that she might have made the wrong decision, instead, so with strong will she tried to believe that in time, this house would become a home.

Batzorig checked the light switches, turned on the tap to taste the water, and flushed the toilet. He walked through the house, testing every door and window, then led the girl out to the shed to inspect the tools, and finally, they checked the kitchenware and the provisions provided to get them started.

The boy brought in some firewood and lit a fire in the fireplace. The nights are already chilly around here, he said, but if we keep the fire going all night, the walls will warm through by morning, and from then on, we just mustn't let them cool down. He turned on the stove, and Solongo put on some coffee and whipped up a quick scrambled eggs with bacon.

They were given an hour to arrange their few belongings, then another briefing awaited them in the main square, where a thousand people looked at each other with curiosity. Five hundred women and five hundred men, who were brave or desperate enough to volunteer for a difficult life full of doubts.

*****

Years have passed. In Solongo's memories, the hardworking weeks and months blurred together. There were those who ran away before the first winter. Those who stayed quickly recognized who would help, what each neighbor was good at, and what qualifications or experience they had.

There were those for whom the transition was easy, as they had always worked hard, while others, had never done manual labor before and complained constantly in the first few months, yet still, with gritting teeth, hunched backs, and minds groaning in paralysis behind their aching muscles, they did what they had contracted to do.

Solongo quickly learned to appreciate Batzorig's nature. The boy woke up earlier than she did and went to bed later. By the time she wandered into the kitchen in the morning, sleepy and with messy hair, he had already brewed the coffee, then he went out to tend the livestock while she prepared breakfast, which they always ate together. Her husband, just as he had shyly said when they first met, was indeed a hardworking, industrious man, and kind to everyone, especially to his wife, who had become his spouse by a sudden decision.

They kept hens for eggs, and in the second year, they bought a cow and received a piglet from a neighboring street, because Batzorig used to go over to help chop wood and feed the livestock when Bilgüün broke his leg. The two men became such close friends over the years that they eventually became godfathers to each other's children.

First, Bilgüün was able to hold his son in his arms, whom they named Gantulga, and barely a year later, Batzorig could also embrace his beautiful daughter, Narantuya.

The women hoed the potatoes and vegetable patches with their infants strapped to their backs; in the same manner, they skinned the rabbits and cooked dinner. They often worked together to have someone to talk to during the bleak labor, cultivating now one person's land, now another's. And during times of heavier work, the whole village labored together, beautifully harvesting the crops for everyone one after the other.

Every single part of the rabbits was utilized. They made clothes out of the fur and sold them, the meat was eaten, and from the bones, they carved tiny whistles, jewelry, and pipe mouthpieces for themselves and for the market. Pigs were slaughtered in the village in such a way that there would be enough for everyone throughout the whole winter, while cow's milk was used for cooking.

On cold evenings, as many as a dozen people would gather at a house, and the women kneaded and dried dough, while the men carved bones and swapped anecdotes. The children sat by the hearth, listened to them or sang, and clamoring for stories.

Batzorig knew the most beautiful fairy tales, while Bilgüün favored the ribald stories. One of them soothed their hearts, while the other made them laugh.

*****

At first, Solongo viewed the boy merely as a coworker – someone with whom she had formed an alliance and signed a contract with. She treated him with kindness and respect, but kept him at a distance. She wanted to know him thoroughly before committing to him with her whole being. She did not even notice when the respected colleague transitioned into a friend, and then into something much more serious; but when someone was sent running for her with the news that a tree had fallen on Batzorig, her breath caught in her throat.

She was just plucking a chicken for dinner when a woman shouted into the yard, and she suddenly felt the earth shake beneath her, and time froze in that very moment. She felt the choking smell of the feathers and the cold wind against her face, yet she had no sense of herself. In her entire body, she only felt her stomach, which shrank to a tiny knot, and her heart, which stopped beating for a single moment.

Later, she did not remember how she had run breathlessly across the yard, out through the gate, all the way through the village, and into the forest where they were cutting winter firewood; she only saw that the massive tree had been propped up to be lifted it, and they were pulling the boy out from under it just as she fell to her knees beside him and leaned over him.

His eyes were closed, his face like the frozen mask of the dead, and in that moment, Solongo realized that she never wanted to live without him. Yet it seemed she had awakened to love too late, for Batzorig did not respond to anything.

They quickly fashioned a stretcher out of branches and coats, and carried the motionless body through the village and into the house, where in the yard the girl looked almost in wonder at the overturned basin and the mangled carcass of a hen, which she had dropped when she jumped up from the bench, stumbling into the vessel filled with hot water. She did not remember, but it must have been so, otherwise, why would the dinner-to-be be lying there in the dust?

Batzorig survived the blow, but his back ached for the rest of his life. The bones had not mended properly, the doctor explained. It was a miracle he survived at all and wasn't crippled, so they should be glad. And they certainly were glad, even happy, because Solongo nursed the boy with total devotion, who until then had only been her husband on paper. Batzorig was grateful to his fate and to the fallen tree, because in a single instant it had brought his wife closer to him than he might have been able to achieve even after years of effort.

*****

2122. The Year of the Horse

Batzorig saw the last guest out, then went out to the terrace to sit quietly for a while beside his love, with whom he had now lived for fifty-one years of life, and who was now snoring softly in the rocking chair.

He looked at the kind, wrinkled face, the aged, veiny hands worn by work. He ran his hand through the once raven-black, now gray curls, and leaning close, pressed a kiss onto the lips that in his memories were full, plump and rosy.

He saw her as beautiful now as he did back then, there in the hall, when he first caught sight of the girl's annoyed pout upon seeing the withered sandwich she had pulled from her bag.

It was the Year of the Rabbit.

*****

Solongo – Rainbow

Batzorig – Strong Courage

Narantuya – Sunbeam

Bilgüün – Wise

Gantulga – Steel Hearth