To Prove Being Alive

To Prove Being Alive

 

 

 

 

Cai Zheng

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being alive is not a fact;

It yet needs to be proven to be a fact.

 

 

 

 

Contents

 

 

The Moment

The Rules of the Custody

Political Prisoners

Escape?

My Guards

Home

The Girl

Brothers

Landing

In the Dream

Bewilderment

The Life

Father

Brothers Are All Over the World

The Dawn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Moment

At two o’clock on June 5th, 1989, I approached Tiananmen Square. I wanted to find out what had really happened there. The wall set up by the troops still blocked the street. Civilians were shying away from it. The big gun points of the awkward tanks raised up like turtles’ heads. At the eastside of the wall, the whole street became an enclave for the army. It was like an empty skating rink. Only a few civilians entered it by showing a pass to an officer. --I have a military pass. Why not use that to enter the enclave? My heart began to beat heavily. – I am entering the nest of the wolves. I stepped out the line of the civilians, walked my bike across the empty ground between the military line and the civilians' line. The civilians were staring at me; the soldiers turned guns at me. I could not turn back. I walked close to an officer. I was so nervous that I did not know how to speak to him. I just showed him my pass. The officer was quite young. He examined my pass, then stared at me, exclaimed: “You are a soldier? How dare you walk on the street?! Come on in! You had better change your clothes. Not let anyone know you are a soldier!” He let me through, pushed my bike in and said: “Be extremely cautious! Take care!”

Thus I was in the forbidden area.

-- I must say something to those soldiers or I will die. The army were supposed to protect people -- only the Japanese animals ever came to kill civilians! They have ruined the image of the army; they have strangled the hope of the nation. They were killing the people to protect a few mice of the nation! …… I walked my bike, looked around to find someone that I could speak to. In the shadow of a tree, a few civilians were talking to some army men. Maybe the civilians were complaining about the cruelty of the army. It would be an opportunity for me to tell them something that they did not know. I walked toward them. It seemed that they were surprised to see me; all of them turned to stare at me.

“I am an army man myself.” I walked close to them, “I am sorry to see our army firing at the people…”

“What did you say?” A red-eyed officer yelled at me.

I repeated myself, shaking my head, “I am sorry to see that our army fired at the people.”

All of them were silent. The civilians were trying to escape the scene. The officer examined me from my head to foot and asked fiercely, “Where are you from? How did you get in?”

I began to feel nervous. “I am from the Air Force.” I fumbled in my bag, got out my pass which was a piece of paper with the stamp of our army unit on it. He examined it. “You are from the Air Force, ah? I think you are a spy! I will deal with you later!” He waved to a soldier, “Take him to the other side. Do not let him run away!” Then he turned to talk to the civilians. The civilians stealthily looked up at me, full of horror. A soldier with an automatic rifle came over to me. “Go!”

I began to sweat. All of my freedom was confiscated. I had to move at gunpoint. I tried to be calm. The donkey-faced guy might doubt that I was a soldier. I could prove it by talking to him. But on my identification there was no steel seal. That might be a problem. The real problem was the pamphlets in my bag – it was like carrying explosives! I hoped that they would not open my bag. No, they did not have the right to open my bag. -- If they found the pamphlets, I would be in hell. I’d better get rid of them. Maybe I could bribe the soldier, let him allow me to throw them in back of the trees by the wall? The soldier guarding me looked like an idiot. He dragged his feet. His eyes could not open fully; his uniform was dirty. If he were from my province, my home fellow would make a joke of this and let me do whatever I wanted. Unfortunately this guy was from the Northwest. If I threw the pamphlets in back of the trees without his approval, he would say that I was distributing counter-revolutionary pamphlets … I had no idea what I should do. I got confused. I hoped that guy would only confirm that I was an army man and give me a stupid lesson of his own and let me go.

I was ordered to stand by the side of the street. Many soldiers were leaning against the wall as if they were wounded. I looked across the street; the officer was still talking to the civilians with his hand waving up and down. Finally, the civilians left. The donkey-faced guy walked toward me with a dozen soldiers. They walked faster and faster and began running. I secretly hoped that they were not running toward me. But it soon became obvious that they were.

When the donkey-face came close to me, he yelled: “Where are you from?” I told him I was from the Air Force. “Where did you get this bike?” I was sweating all over. I said I picked it up on the street. “You picked it up on the street! You stole it! You are one of the beating, breaking and looting bandits! Tell us, who are you?” I handed him my identification. He examined it. “Our I.D. gets the steel seal. Are you trying to fool me? Where is the steel seal?” I said I had not sent my photo to the headquarters on time, so I did not have it yet. My pass should be enough. Suddenly he shouted, “You are a fake soldier! --Attention!” I stood straight. “Look at him, does he look like a soldier?” He kicked my feet. All the soldiers around laughed. He shouted again, “At rest!” I parted my feet. I felt a bitter taste in my mouth. “Attention!” I stood straight again. “You are not a soldier; if you are, you are a bad one! -- Where is your troop’s location?” I told him the location. “I never heard of that place. You may fool others but not me! You are a spy! You pretend to be a soldier! -- What did you say just now?” he struck me on my chest, “What did you say, en?” another strike. I tried to stand up straight. He was not expecting any answer, so I just kept my silence to wait for his wave of anger to pass. “You know they have killed how many of our brothers? Have you seen they burned our brothers and hung them on the bridge? Do you know how many of our brothers they have burned alive in the tanks? You are sorry, sorry for what? Are you an animal?” He got out his pistol and struck me with the muzzle on my chest. “Where did you get the uniform? Did you peel it off one of our brothers? How many of our brothers have you killed?” He clenched his teeth, “Search him!” He waved his pistol at me, “I will shoot you right here if you are a spy!”

My Heaven! Please, do not search my bag! My Heaven! -- My sweat exploded.

Several soldiers began to search my bag; two squatted down to feel my trousers. The soldiers shouted out loudly when they found the pamphlets. Seizing the pamphlets, the donkey-face roared, “You must be a spy! Your clothes must have been peeled off our murdered brothers.” He slapped me in my face, “Tell me, who sent you here!” My nose was broken; blood rushed out. Something horrible was going to happen. I was stupefied. I backed up, but the soldiers in the back struck me on my back. I tried to turn to left; the soldiers on my left struck me with their fists and gun butts. “Beat him to death! Revenge for our brothers!” Suddenly one roared, sounding like a thunderstorm, “Put him to death! Revenge for our brothers!”

Abruptly all of them jumped at me; they kicked me, slapped me and struck me, using their fists, their gun handles and their boots. I was knocked to the ground. I was buried in the fists, the boots and rifle butts.

“Let us hang him to revenge our brothers! I'll get the ropes!” one soldier shouted. Suddenly they stopped. The donkey-face took a white plastic rope from a soldier and shouted, “Let’s hang the spy! Revenge for our brothers!” He made a loop with the rope; the soldiers gave way to let him to put the loop around my neck.

My heart exploded. The earth below my feet split, I was falling into the abyss. I was kicked into a sitting position on the ground. I tried to stand up; I was knocked down again. I crooked my head to avoid the loop. I had my hands over my head, trying to block the rope loop from being wrapped around my neck. I screamed with all my life: Help! I am a soldier! Please don't! Please! -- Once the loop falls over my neck, they will pull it and I will extend my tongue, turn out my white eyes in a few seconds! Their craziness is being fanned! They will hang me on the pole, burn me in the night! Heaven, give me strength! Help me! Help! …… I collected all my strength, stood up and pushed aside those in front of me; I ran out of the circle.

-- Where should I run to? If they shoot me, that will be it! Fifty feet away came a colonel in decent dark yellow uniform. I ran toward him, threw myself at his feet, knelt down and hugged his feet. “Please help me, help me! I am from the Air Force! I said something wrong; they want to hang me! Please! Please call my unit to confirm that I am a soldier!” The colonel stopped and looked down, his brow was twisted. There was a little sympathy in his eyes. He ordered the soldiers and the donkey-face to stop. He said to me, “Stand up and tell me what’s the matter.” He was calm and serious. The donkey-face came over, “He pretended to be a soldier; he cursed the army, and was tying to distribute counter-revolutionary pamphlets.” The colonel asked where I was from. I told him the name of our academy. I cried, “Please call our army unit immediately, or just call the Air Force, they will tell you about me.” He hesitated for a moment, then ordered, “Stop! Make an investigation.” I begged again, “Please take me with you! Please! Please help me!” -–If I was left on the street, those crazy soldiers would kill me. “We will have an investigation. OK?” He turned to the donkey-face, “Wait for my order. Take him away.” Two soldiers pulled me up and dropped by the red wall.

The donkey-face had the ropes; he kicked me down on the ground to tie my feet. “If it was not for the commissar, you would be in hell! We can not kill you during the day. I will cut you to pieces at night!” He asked a soldier to pull the other end of the rope to let it cut into my bone. He tied my two hands behind my back. “We will finish you tonight when there is nobody around! I will get some gas and burn you! Just wait!” the donkey-face said before he left.

I sat by the red wall, sweating heavily. The soldiers constantly came over to beat me. One guy put the burning butt of his cigarette on my foot, “I will let you try the taste of being burned!” He thrust it there tightly. The sharp pain pieced in, I could not help screaming. He laughed like an ape. When the fire of the cigarette had almost died out, in haste he smoked it, then used his finger to tip off the ash and planted it on my foot again. Finally the cigarette reached its end, and the fire was out. He threw away the butt, spitting out the words: “Wait! We will burn you to ash tonight!”

A middle-aged guy with a light machine gun on his shoulder came near me. His face was sharp with protruding bones. His two eyes looked like two knives sticking out. His dress showed that he was someone with special power: he worn a thin civilian shirt and very expensive shining black sandals. He walked toward me with the look of fatal enemy. Aiming his gun at me, he clenched his teeth, “Tell me, who sent you here! If you dare to lie, I will give you a dozen bullets right now!” His words were thrown at me like rocks. He must have gotten the authority to kill me. He had his fingers at the trigger. All my muscles, strength and mind were pulled up to prepare to receive the bullets. I was shivering inside. My soul was on the bow of the arrow, ready to jump out of my body. I had both my eyes focused on his finger at the trigger. In lightening speed, he gave me a powerful kick and another strike on my head with the steel butt: “Tell me!” The strike was so powerful; I was knocked over onto the ground. The black gun barrel followed to aim at my eyes. I could not sit up straight. I told him that I was a soldier without identification. They were investigating that to confirm I was a soldier. “I really want to give you a shower of bullets right now!” He kicked me and gave me another strike, “I leave you here for a while. We will get rid of you at night. I will kill you myself!” He gave me another kick, then walked away. I felt just like a train had rolled over me. My whole body turned to mud.

An officer, who had a black face, with his sleeves pushed up, searched my bag and found my diary. After he read a page I had written on, he yelled scornfully, “You think the universe is too small for you? You want fresh air! What a dirty bourgeoisie corrupted thought! How rotten and immoral your thoughts are! You are a soldier! You are a shame to the army!” He slapped my face with the book. I was very lucky that I had not been keeping up with my diary writing those days. “You are not satisfied with the great achievements of our great motherland? This is the root of your counter-revolutionary behavior!” I preferred being beaten than listening to his political lesson.

I feared seeing any soldier coming toward me. But all the pain caused by the beating was nothing comparing to the pain caused by the ropes and the sun. The ropes were like knives; they were squeezing in deeper and deeper into my bones. The needles of pain pieced into my heart, and kept piecing in. The pain slapped at me like sea waves. I clenched my teeth to overcome the strong waves of pain caused by the ever-cutting ropes. Sweat rushed out, one wave after another. The sun was baking me. It was as though I was in a stove. After a while I ceased sweating. My mouth was burning. My heart was burning. I saw darkness. Smoke arose from my burned body. My consciousness was leaving me like the smoke. -- No. I must keep my mind and body together. I must! I must be conscious to prepare to protect my life when someone comes to kill me. I used all my energy to control my breath, trying to keep my soul and body together. The strong waves of pain, thirst, heat kept striking me; I used all my life to try to keep my head above the fire and smoke, to keep myself breathing.

The hot day finally ended. Streetlights were turned on. Soldiers with steel helmets and heavy boots began marching on the street, one array after another. Some had silver sticks held aright in their hands, like the leader of a marching band. Their boots clanked on the ground. They shouted: “One! Two! Three! Four!” The noise surpassed thunder. It was like a foreign army had just conquered the city. They were showing their power to the people they had just conquered. In the dizzying evening light, their uniforms, their boots, their helmets and faces looked exactly the same. The thunderous shouting, the thundering clank of their boots, the wooden appearances of the soldiers made me shiver. They were really powerful; they could crash the whole country. -- Those robots, good heavens!

Just after the march ended, two baby-faced soldiers came by. “Hi, home fellow.” the younger one said to me, “Why are you here?!” His voice was full of sorrow. He said he was from a county next to mine. “What could I do for you, home fellow?” They were so sincere. I was dried up. My throat was burning. The blood in my brain was stuck. Even if they did not kill me tonight, I would soon die of thirst. Water would extend my life hours longer! I said I needed some water. He immediately opened his canteen, put the open toward my mouth, “Drink slowly.” I drank and drank. How wonderful to have the sweet, cool water at such a moment! “Are you hungry? Sorry we have no food. We have had no food since we came here. We will have some tonight.” I finished all the water. “More?” I nodded. He ran to a water fountain nearby. In a moment he came back, he held the canteen toward my mouth again. I finished another canteen of water. I was so satisfied. The split earth got wet, the withered leaves began to straighten up. I whispered in our local dialect, “May I say something to you?” He looked at the guard, “OK, that guy is in my unit.” “Please inform my girlfriend.” I told him Ling’s work address. I must let her know that I was captured and killed here. He said they were not allowed to do that now, but he would try after he finished his term in the army. Just after he repeated Ling’s address, the soldier guarding me yelled at him, “Haven't you had enough time? Go away!” He said: “He needs some water.” I said, “I do not know how to express my gratitude, home fellow.” He said, “Home fellow, sorry, I have to go! Our squad leader asked us not to stay too long. He is also our home fellow. He wants to come to see you later. Take care!” I said: “Take care.” He left in a hurry.

The streetlights were bluish. I was slipping into hell. I could not stop it. I was tied up. A guard with an earthly face holding his automatic rifle stood besides me. -- Could I persuade him to loosen the ropes a little bit or even better, to let me go? He would get punishment, but no death penalty. He has a heart. If it was me, I would save the life of others for a little sacrifice of my own. This might be the last chance for me to get out of the teeth of death. If my feet and hands were loosened, I could walk on the street like any other soldier. I could pass the wall two hundred meters away, get out of this hell in one minute. Why not have a try?

“Hello, where are you from?” I asked the guard. He did not respond. I repeated the question.

“None of your business!” he said angrily.

No hope. But I could at least ask him to relieve my pain a little bit. “Could you loosen the ropes a little bit?”

“Shut up! You should be glad we've kept you alive till now!”

It was a waste to beg this dumb guy. Just save my energy.

In the evening, another two officers approached me. One had a baby face; the other had an automatic rifle in his hand. They squatted down by me. The baby face took out the books of my poems, “Are these counter-revolutionary pamphlets?” “Poetry." I said. The baby face picked up one and read a few lines, “Where did you get these?” I said I printed them. “Who wrote these?” “I.” “You?” He waved a book at me, “Can you understand these poems?” I said calmly, “I wrote them.” “No, do not try to fool me!” He shook his head. Minutes later he changed his tone, “What are you?” I said I was an English instructor in a flying academy, “If you like, you can have them.” Both of them said nothing; the other officer took out a package of cigarettes and offered me one. I shook my head. I could not smoke it with hands tied behind my back. After reading more of the poems, the baby face shook his head, “It is too great a pity. I am very sorry for you. You are going to be handled tonight. You should not have come here. I could not have your books.” Though I was pleased that he liked my poems, what he said threw me across the line. I expected to hear from him that all the talk of the stupid soldiers was nonsense. But he confirmed that they were going to kill me in the night. He knew what they were going to do to me. “I am sorry.” He sighed, shook his head sadly, and took leave with the other officer.

-- Tomorrow I will not be able to walk from one place to another. I will not be able to stand in front of other people, sit below a tree, lie on a piece of lawn with my feet extended, hands under my head. Now I can extend my mind to land anywhere anytime in the future; I can walk on the road I used to walk on when I was a kid; I can accompany the kids yet to be born, walk among them; the same sunshine like lukewarm fire will be dancing around the road, one year later, one hundred years later, one thousand years later --as far as the road exits, as long as the grass along the road grows. However, I will not be there. This life of mine has been existing in the universe from the very beginning of the universe. It had survived in a drop of water, it had existed in a particle of dust, it had existed in the life of a tiny creature; it had been living in my ancestors millions years ago. My ancesters fought with other animals, struggled in snow storms, crawled into caves in showers, and wrapped me in their arms to protect me. Father saved a peanut he picked up in the fields to bring to me; I got up at three o’clock in the morning to exercise to build stature, I read by the small lamp light in the cold night to enrich my soul …… All my ancesters and I have done was just for me to be destroyed by a small bullet or a sharp knife by some insane soldiers and to become a string of smoke for a few words I had said?

-- What should I be sad for? Sooner or later I will disappear from this world. If my life ends today, that only shortens my stay in this world. Does it make any difference if I live another seventy years or die today? -- Oh, my heaven, I have not prepared to die so abruptly, I am not ready! My life, this body, this soul, the power and ability to think, to write and to act, has never been utilized! The life I absorbed from others’ life has yet to be transformed. I should be given enough time to store my life in something. I have taken in life from the air, from water, from the sunlight, from all the existence of the nature; from the food I ate, from the clothes I wore, from the books I read, from all the substances created by human beings to form this life of mine; once it is formed, it should be stored in my work. -- A farmer stores his life in the rice he produces, a musician stores his life in the music he creates, a singer stores his life in the songs he sings, a painter stores his life in the painting he paints, a poet stores his life in the poetry he writes. There is life in the Egyptian sculpture created six thousand years ago; the lives of the carvers are dancing in it. There is life in the Great Wall; the builders’ lives are twisting in it. There is life in the Classics of Poetry; the poets’ lives are flying in it. -- Everything created by human beings carries the life of the creators. Every human should store their life horizontally in something they created and to store their life vertically in their children. A few people in the world could store their unique life and keep it for the future. Where would my life be stored? I had dreamed of passing it on thousands of years later. I have written poems. Few of my poems could resist the erosion of time and penetrate the space to reach the souls existing in other space and time. My life should be stored in my works; a thousand years later, another human being with soul, chewing the words I wrote, would tremble with me and shed tears with me. He would know the unique soul of mine had existed in this universe at this time and this place. But they will not give me time. I can neither pass on my life horizontally or vertically. My life will be cut short here! Nobody will know that I, with such a shape, with such a soul, have struggled, loved, dreamed, and cried in this world! My eyes will be gone, the blue sky, the bright sunshine and the beautiful landscape that often makes me thrill will no longer enter my mind. This I, consisting of flesh, blood and bones will become black ash and green smoke, rise into the sky, disappear in the wind. -- At the moment when my body is smashed, will my soul jump out of it? Will it become a little bird or a butterfly? It must become something! How could I, with such a strong body, such a vibrating soul end like this! I must become something to fly to those I love, to land on the tree near them, sing a sad song or just wave wings to let them know that I am gone! I must rise from the pile of my ashes in the form of a bird, a butterfly, or a small bug, to live on in this world! I can not be gone only in the form of ash and smoke! No. There is a soul in this body! It must become something to exist in this world! At the very least it should become a string of air that could control itself, fly into the sky in a unified cluster of air, fly above the clouds independently; it can get together, form different shapes, land at various places, appear in different colors. ……

-- If father knows I am dead, how will he survive? Brothers may think that I will manage to escape any disaster and even flee the country. They will comfort themselves and their children in the belief that I will come back with great glory years later. Just like father comforted us regarding my uncle: he might appear in front of the village on a white horse. I had dreamed of my uncle since I was a kid. He would stop by our house, pull me up to sit on the back of his horse to take me to heaven. He was active in the late 20's in the revolution in my hometown. Later many of his comrades became generals; one of them, Li Xiannian, had become the president and now the Chairman of Political Consulting; the other one, Qin Jiwei, is the Minister of Defense. At the very moment, Chairman Li and Minister Qin are sleeping in beds inside the red wall behind me, maybe just a few hundred meters away from me. When uncle “disappeared”, he was only 18 years old. He was asked to attend a meeting; nobody knew what had really happened to him. Father said uncle often sang International Song like this: “Raise up, let me put my penis in your mouth (Ji Ba Sai Zai Li Kou Li) .” (The first sentence of the song should be “Raise up, Slaves living in hunger and cold! (Ji Han Jiao Po De Lu Li )” ) If somebody reported this to the authorities, definitely he would have begotten disaster at the time. In the early 30’s, the Red Army killed hundreds of their own comrades to cleanse the army. At that time, they did not have enough bullets. They chopped off people’s heads, hung people, stoned people to death or knocked people on the back of their heads with hoes. How was uncle killed? Did he die without much pain or experienced a lasting pain? The sharp pain at the moment he was cut through by a sharp knife or knocked by a hoe only felt by himself. Nobody could feel the horror and pain he experienced -- except me at this moment. Now I was in ropes as uncle was sixty years ago. I would get a better treatment; now, the army does not have to begrudge me a few bullets. They have plenty of them. -- My heaven! Should our family sacrifice two lives for the same unclear cause?

-- I have yet to prove that I have been in this world! This can not happen to me! I must escape! -- How can I escape? All around me are soldiers. I even do not know whether my feet and hands are still mine. I can not feel them. If only I had the capability of a magician to get rid of the ropes and become invisible! If only I could run faster than the bullet, and fly over the wall to the other side of the street! -- Is there a God? Is there a Buddha? Who can rescue me? How can my life be ending like this?!

……

Gun shoots occasionally came from the west and the east. In the bluish light, a few soldiers fully armed moved in line. The bluish light on the soldiers’ yellowish clothes, the dark trees and the streets made the whole world around me look like a hell.

Later in the night, two guys in civilian clothes, one carrying a camera light, the other a video camera, approached me. Their accent told me that they were Beijing residents. The tall guy who had the camera shot a picture of me, the other held the light on me. -- Before they kill people, they create a record. The tall guy asked me to tell them my name, where I was from and why I was there? They spread all my books of poems on the ground, shone the light on them and shot pictures of them. -- They may be taking them as the proof that I am a counter-revolutionary. I could not control myself; my voice was shaking. -- The last moment is coming. This will be my last record in the world. They will know whom they have killed. After they finished recording, the taller one asked, “Do you have any request?” -- All those sentenced to death can have one request satisfied just before they are executed. I almost wanted to cry; I did not want to say anything, still I said, “I can not feel my hands and feet, could you loosen the rope a little bit?” He turned off the camera and squatted down to loose the rope, “How long has this been on?” “Since two o’clock.” “I could completely untie it, let you take a break, but I warn you, do not try to run away. All around are army men with guns. They will shoot you to death immediately. Do you understand?” “Yes.” “OK, I will accompany you for a while and let you have a break. -- Fuck! Why is it tied so tightly?” Finally he loosened it. He threw the ropes beside me and asked me try to straighten my feet. I could not. A sharp pain slowly pierced through, like a steel pole was thrusting through my blood vessels. Minutes later, a real comfort seeped in. “You have run onto the muzzle.” He shook his head. – He clearly knew that I was going to be shot to death soon. “Are you hungry?” He got out some military cake. “No.” “Are you thirsty?” “No.” I was almost moved to tears by his caring. He told me he was from the Beijing Bureau of Public Security. “You are on muzzle. -- What the hell are you doing here?!” He blamed me with painful sympathy. I did not know how to respond. After a while, he said: “I have to tie you up again. I will leave it looser.” While he was tying, he kept asking, “Does that hurt? If it is not comfortable, let me know. I am not going to tie your feet.” He yelled to the soldier, “Do not tie his feet, OK? You have your guns with bullets, are you still worried he will escape?” He turned to me, “I warn you again, do not try to run away, OK? They will shoot you right away!” I nodded. He left.

Only two soldiers with guns stood near me. Lots of soldiers holding guns lay by the wall; some were walking or standing on the south side of the street. My hands were loosely tied. My feet were again my own to command. -- If I can get rid of the rope, snatch a gun from a soldier, shoot around, cutting a path to run to the south side of the street, throw myself over the wall, I may escape. They are going to shoot at me. If they can not get me before I throw myself over the wall, I may save my life. Most of them can not get over the wall in one jump, and only a few dare to follow me to cross over the wall. There must be some hutong on the other side; if I am lucky I may find a place to hide in the night. If I want to survive, this is the last chance. --No, it will not work. It will only speed my death. I can not get rid of the rope. Even if I can, I have to run across the street. Their bullets will get me before I reach the wall.

I could only wait, wait to be killed.

It was midnight. -- At this time father is in bed; Ling is having a dream. In the far end of the continent, in the far away mountains, in the depth of the dark night, people are falling asleep. The night is taking care of people, who are exhausted after a long day’s work. I am fastened to the belt of the killing machine; the wheel of it is turning around and bringing me to the smashing chamber. It is the time to jump up and run, to scream, to fall down in the rain of bullets, to let my soul burst out of the flesh and blood. …… No, I can only stay on the belt.

The time was finally up. There came a military truck. It stopped on the south side of the street. From the truck, soldiers wearing boots and helmets jumped down. They caused a commotion. Some were issuing orders; soldiers lined up by the wall. Then a string of soldiers ran toward us, toward me.

“Here! Tie him, get a knife, stab him right here!” They were yelling and roaring; their boots were clanking on the ground. I was surrounded by soldiers. “Bind his eyes!” “Stand up!” “……” Everyone was giving orders. I stood up. Other civilians sitting nearby began screaming, “Please! No … do not kill me! Please don’t kill me! ……” -- It is the time. Ready? Say goodbye to this body, to this world. Ready? Yes. You have no choice but to be ready. That will make you feel a little better.

I was pulled up. I could not stand up; my two legs were as soft as mud. I kept falling down onto the ground. My mouth was full of bitter water; my tongue became a piece of stiff wood; it stuck in my mouth, I could not turn it. “Kneel down!” Someone was kicking the backs of my legs. I was forced to kneel down. My eyes were bound with a piece of cloth; the cloth cut into my skin. The whole world was dark. My hands were tied behind my back, crossed; my two thumbs were tied together. -- This is the way they tie the to-be-executed. It is good to be like this. I will not see the bullet hole. They were hitting me with rifle butts on my chest, on my stomach, on my back and on my arms. “Do you have a knife, let me cut his throat before we shoot him!” yelled one guy. I wanted to scream, but others were screaming for me. -- Accept it, father, my dear girls, all I love, I will leave this world just like this! You could never imagine that I would disappear from this world like this! They will bring me to the other side of the street to shoot me right there. They will bury us somewhere or burn us in the street, nobody will know this …… I wanted to jump up to smash the whole world, I wanted to explode! -- How can this happen to me? Is this my destiny!? Heaven! Heaven! Heaven! My heaven!! ……

They dragged me forward. I sensed that they were dragging me up to the trunk of the truck. One guy hit me with the rifle butt with all his hatred. My chest bones were broken. I tried to tighten my muscles to withstand the hits; I could only tighten parts of my body and I did not know where I was going to be hit. I knew this body would not long belong to me, any damage to it was OK, still I tried to protect it before it was totally smashed. I was sandwiched between solders; each one held one of my arms. In the midst of the sharp crying of the other walking dead men, I kept my silence. Between useless crying and silence, I chose silence. -- Prepare your whole body, your whole mind to meet death, hold your body and soul tightly together to welcome that very moment; any crying or yelling would only break yourself apart before death arrives.

Suddenly there was a shriek as sharp as the scream of the pig being pierced through by a knife into his throat: “Help --!” Then followed silence. A wave of coldness ran through me. -- They are killing us one by one. I just waited for my turn. “Should we end him now or a little bit later?” asked a soldier. -- Sooner or later I do not care. I am dead; I have crossed the line one step ahead before they push me to cross it. -- It is good to cross the line a step earlier; the bullets that will piece into my body can not cause more pain.

The truck started to move. One guy clenched his teeth to yell at me, “We are going to bury you alive! I will peel your skin off your face before I bury you!” -- I do not care. Do as you like.

-- They are shifting us out to a secret place, so they can kill us and handle our corpses. The truck made a left turn, a right turn, then left, then straight, then I did not know right or left, then it stopped. I was dragged down, thrown onto the ground.

Tong! -- the boots kicked on the back. “A-yo!” a loud cry. A soldier with Sichuan accent roared, “Your father would kick you counter-revolutionaries to death! --Counter-revolutionary!” Tong! “A-yo!” “You want to overthrow the government!” Tong! “A--yo!” “Overthrow Communist party!” Tong! “A-yo!” He kicked us one by one. His boots, like a steel hammer, cut into my spine! A sharp pain thrust into my heart, it cut off my breath! He kicked and cursed. Then he asked what we were doing. I said I was from the Air Force. “Traitor! You are strong! Ah! The army fed you well so you could participate in counter-revolution! Ah? Let me take you as a live kicking bag to practice kicking!” Tong! Tong! Tong! I tightened all my muscles to receive his kick. I could not help giving out a low “A— ” when I got each kick. Another guy came to ask where we were from. I said I was from Hongan, Hubei. The guy who had kicked me murmured, “I am from Hubei too.” Immediately he stopped kicking me. But he kept kicking others.

The one who gave orders had the accent of our provincial capital. After he asked me a few questions, he walked away and whispered with someone. I only heard “college student” “The Generals’ County.” Then he came close to me and asked why I was here and if I had any request. I said that the ropes on my hands were too tight, could I get them loosened a little bit? “We were going to do that.” He ordered soldiers to use one long rope to tie all of us together.

--Why do they put us here? They need to dig up holes to bury us! Chance of survival is still there … While I was sitting there, a guy came close to me and whispered to me in my home accent. I found out that his home was just two kilometers from my village! Immediately I saw a ray of hope of survival! I must seize the last ray of hope! I said rapidly in a low voice in our home accent, “Please save my life, home fellow! -- Do you know any generals or high-ranking officers from our county in your unit? Could you please bring anyone of them a message that a home fellow from Air Force is here? Ask them to save my life! Please! Please!” He said, “Home fellow, I know there are many generals from our county. I am an ordinary soldier; how can I run to see them right now?” I said eagerly, “If there is any high-ranking officers in this unit, he could easily save my life. Please, my life is in your hands! They are going to shoot us tomorrow! -- Just let them know I am here. Any high-ranking officer will do it!” I knew how it worked in the army. An ordinary soldier could go directly to the top commander’s home to chat with him — if the commander was from their hometown. Of course, the soldier must be smart and have the courage. However this home fellow of mine seemed to lack the courage. When the guard yelled at him, “Why are you over here! Get out of here!” He did not fight back but left in haste and did not even say goodbye to me!

The ray of hope died out.

Tong! Tong! Gun shots sounded from far away; then it was deadly quiet again.

One guy next to me was crying in a suppressed voice; the suppressed cry made it sound sadder. The guy who had kicked us must have become exhausted. The officer who showed interest in me had left. It got quiet. We might be sitting in a corridor; the wind was very strong. When I was just thrown there, the cool wind cooled my burning pain and made me feel good. After a while, the wind turned cold; gradually it turned my wet shirt, my wet trousers to ice. -- How could the wind in June be so cold! I was sitting in a river. The cold water washed over me, pierced into my bones, seeped into my chest; it intended to wipe out the only warmth in my deep heart. -- It is the time that people are in their deepest sleep. All the top leaders who control the army, who had masterminded the killing, are sleeping in cozy beds not far away from me. They may be in sweet dreams, water are running out of their mouths. At this moment, some people are embracing each other, naked, some are having sex; new lives are created. I am here waiting to be killed. …… Oh, come back, my mind, I need all the power of the mind to protect me from being frozen in the icy river. I lowered my head, bowed my back and shrank my body to be as small as possible, so the cold water would only wash over the least part of my body. I tightened my muscles to fight the coldness. I hoped the cold night would pass quickly and yet would not end -- they were going to shift us out to be killed in the early morning.

Suddenly, a commotion arose. We were kicked into standing. It was hard to stand up. My two legs were numb from sitting there without moving. -- Now it is really the time. They were kicking us, pushing us and yelling at us, "Get up! Get up!" They replaced the ropes with a big iron chain. The iron chain locked our hands together from the back; all of us were linked to the chain. The blindfold was fastened again over my eyes. Someone was pushing me and yelling: "Move! Move!" I was too frightened to move. I did not know where to put my feet. I feared any move would hurt myself or others. They pushed me very hard. “Go! Go! Hurry up! Hurry up!” I had to move, move. Suddenly my face knocked against a wall of bricks. My lips were split. Blood, a little salty, ran down my lips. From the little cracks of the cloth covering my eyes, I saw blood drops on my shirt. -- They are going to take us to be buried in the suburbs. All my blood will belong to the earth that will cover me. What’s the use of keeping it? The pain will no longer to be felt by me. ……

We were pushed to move up. I saw from the cracks of my blindfold that we were moving on to the bed of a small truck. I was kicked down; my chest was thrust on the iron floor of the truck bed. Someone was lying on top of me, and others were lying on the one above. We were piled up like pieces of wood, one layer upon another. One of the butchers sat on the top of the pile of bodies, his feet were close to my head. The cloth on my eyes loosened a little bit. I saw only another face pressed to the black floor of the truck bed, distorted and purple. My chest was changing shape; all my bones were bending, bending; my heart and lungs were compressing. I could not breathe. I could not move any part of my body. Sharp knives were piecing into my chest. I used all my strength to push them back, prevent them from cutting into my heart, my lungs, and my intestines. Crying, sharp crying, sounded like the sound given out when knife scratches steel. I did not make any noise. It was futile. I needed to put all my mind to prevent the sharp knives from piercing through me. I needed to keep breathing. Breathing one more time was one more breath. -- This is the final journey of my life. I must extend it as long as possible. There seemed no hope I was going to return back to life. They will not let one who has experienced this survive. I am being shifted out of the city, out of the world; this is my journey to the other world: piled at the bottom of live corpses, under the bottom of the executors of us.

"Listen," the butcher knocked our heads with a steel helmet, "If any of you dare to give out a single sound after the truck starts, I will strangle you to death right away! Have you heard me?" No response. He roared again, "Have you heard what I said?” “Yes!" The sound was mingled with miserable, womanish crying. I could not utter any sound. The butcher kicked my cheek, roared, "Have you heard me?” “Yes.” I tried to answer. "Louder!" He knocked my head with the helmet. The hit gave out a buzzing sound. My brain turned wooden. "Yes!” I used all my qi and anger to utter the sound. My teeth touched the cold steel floor covered with dark dirt; blood on my lips was mixed with the dirt. I closed my eyes. The pressure on me was breaking my chest bones to pieces. I could not survive the trip. They should be a little more humane, just kill us with a bullet! They should not kill us this way! Oh, maybe it is better to be killed like this, so I do not have to experience the horror of being buried alive.

When the vehicle started, the stereo was turned on. The sound was as loud as thunder; the volume must have been the maximum. They were trying to use the music to stifle the sound of any possible crying. The vehicle was passing through the streets of Beijing; I heard the honks of cars. They were afraid that cries from the trunk would alert the civilians to surround and stop the vehicle. Truly, no crying could be heard. Only the songs, the sweet songs, one followed another. The singers were full of enthusiasm and joy. "Let's follow our sense....” I had no sense; I could not pinpoint where the pain was. It was everywhere and nowhere. All my body was pieced through by knives, nails and needles. “Let's enter tomorrow, there should be no tears, no sorrow.... Let's hold each other's hands, enter beautiful tomorrow.....” The song was flowing through the cracks of the piled bodies, like a stream, like a spring breeze. Let's hold each other's hands -- our hands are tied behind our backs; the big iron chain links our hands together. Let’s enter beautiful tomorrow, -- tomorrow we will be buried, we will be in absolute darkness. The music kept rushing in from the front of the truck, flowing in the darkness, flowing in the cracks and tiny spaces between flesh and flesh. All the pain will be gone in a short period of time. I stopped feeling sorry for myself, stopped thinking of father, brothers and Lingling. The song intruded into my ears, squeezed into my mind. It must be overflowing in the street the truck was driving through. People would look at the truck, some would follow it to sing along. Nobody would know that in the trunk we were packed layer upon another, like pig’s corpses, like wood.

 

The Rules of the Custody

 

The truck stopped, so did the song. Those above me began to move. They trampled on my legs, feet and back. As soon as the pressure on top of me was gone, I was dragged into a standing position, but I could not stand up. In a few minutes, I was able to pick myself up. Amazingly, I discovered my bones were still mine and I could still breathe!

We were dragged, pushed and kicked into moving forward. It was chaos, full of yelling, shouting and crying. -- We are being driven to the hole they dug last night. Will they shoot us or bury us alive? The Japanese took photos of the people right at the spot where they were going to bury them alive. Is the same thing going to happen here? No, that is not something that they would want to show to the world. …… Which way of dying is better: to be just kicked in and buried alive, then slowly die due to lack of oxygen or be shot before being buried? Oh, my God, someone must seek revenge for us! --But who will know that we have been killed this way? Even if they know, who would be the target of the revenge?

I breathed in some more air, moved my muscles to make sure that every part of my body was still mine, and got prepared to accept the final moment.

I heard the noise of a door opening; I smelled the rotten odor of rooms. I heard all kinds of noises. It must be a big storeroom. The chain was replaced by ropes. I was confused. -- Where am I? I was dropped on the hard, wet, cold cement floor. I was asked to state my name, my unit, then the wraps on my eyes were taken off. For a few seconds, I could not see anything. Gradually I saw I was in a place surrounded by iron bars, one guy sitting by a desk was taking notes. Some others were standing around. One guy came to untie the ropes on my hands. I was asked to take off all my clothes. It looked like we were somewhere underground. Was it a secret jail? The walls were black; the ceiling was black. What were they doing to us?

"Stand up! Run!" One guy waved his hands like he was going to beat me. My clothes and shoes were thrown back at me, everything except for the belt. Holding my clothes, I did not know where to run to. One door opened. I faced a long, gray corridor. "Run!" The guy waved his hand. I held my clothes, shivering, teeth clenching, and began running. "Hurry up! Hurry up!" I ran toward the end of the dark corridor. There was a door open along the wall. One guy stood by it. When I was close to him, he snapped my shoulder and gave me a hard push on my back, "Get in!"

I was thrown into a room. The door was closed behind me.

With my shoes and trousers held in front of me, I looked around. Slowly I realized that I was being put in lock-up. Many eyeballs like light bulbs were focusing on me. The eyeballs were fixed in ghost-like faces. Those ghosts looked at me like hungry tigers examining a live animal thrown into their cage. Their stares scared me. I did not know what I should do; all of them seemed shocked by something about me and did not make a move.

"Put all your stuff on the ground!" moments later a guy yelled at me. He had shinning eyes and a big beard; he was a little fat. I put down my clothes. -- This is a lock-up, so I am not going to be killed today. I am going to stay with other criminals for some time. The guy yelled again: “Stand straight!” I stood up straight. -- The criminals in the prison often bully the newcomers. Now I need to have a strong establishment. "Turn around!" -- It is probably wise to listen to his orders; if he gives orders, he must have some authority. Do not go against anyone to create more trouble. I turned around and looked back at him with a smile.

"How do you get such muscles!" He seemed amused, but he immediately changed his tone, "Tell us, why are you here?" He stared at me.

-- Now it is time for me to set up myself. "I am an army man. It was a mistake. I forgot to bring my identification with me. They have no right to keep me here to try me. If I have violated the law, I should go to the military court, not here."

"You are a Liberation Army Man?" he widened his eyes, looked around, and several people exchanged glances and began to smile at each other. "I see. From now on, you are going to listen to me. Do things according to the rules, or you will have trouble. I am Big Beard, call me Big Beard. Get it?"

I held my two fists together in front of me, shook them around. "I will be here to wait for the Air Force to take me back. Please give me instruction and help, all my friends, I will really appreciate it!" This is the traditional etiquette practiced among martial arts masters when they wandered into each other. This gesture might give them some idea about me.

"Where do you get so much nonsense! No nonsense! From now on, listen to our orders. Put on your clothes!" he yelled at me angrily.

I felt my anger erupting like the volcano. -- Fuck you, who do you think you are? I dare you talk to me like that again! If we were outside of here, I would break your neck! Dog’s shit! Don't you know any etiquette? …… OK, take it easy, you endured all the beating, you can also take this. This is custody. Perhaps he is the manager they put here. Do not take little men so seriously. Wait and see …… Instead of putting on a scornful grin, I put on a silly smile. Silently I picked up my clothes and began to put them on.

He sat down with his back against the wall. Around him there were four other guys. They must be a group.

After I put on my clothes, he issued another order, "Go to read the rules loudly.” He pointed to the wall. On the wall, there was a piece of paper. It was "The Rules of the Custody".

The rules said that everyone must abide by the law, must tell the truth to get clemency. If you try to hide anything, the punishment will be harsher. Persuade others to confess; do not listen to rumors, do not trust rumors, do not pass on rumors; expose others' crimes; report any violations of the rules to the authority immediately and so on.

After I finished reading, he introduced me to the other four guys sitting by the wall. They were all from Beijing. One was Political Instructor, a former Political Instructor in the ground troops, a thirty-five year old man. He was quite reserved and seemed nice; he tried to maintain a kind of authority. I guessed he was the real head of this room. He said he was in prison because of financial problems. The other guy was Little White Face. His face was really white; he was from Sichuan; he sold loud speakers for a factory and pocketed all the money. The other was Glasses, a slim young man with thick glasses. He was a cashier in a grocery store and was here for pocketing the money he got from customers. Big Beard blinked his big eyes like a rat and introduced himself, "I steal bicycles. It is not a big deal. I live off of that. They will never find out how many bikes I have stolen. I am not going to tell them.” His joking tone and frankness confused me. There were a dozen of others. No names were given for them. One was lying on the floor; he was wounded in the back and could not sit up. Others were clustered together. Big Beard said they were all political criminals like me.

Big Beard told me from now on my name would be "Liberation Army". He said they hated to let people know their real names; therefore, everyone got a nickname. Then he told me the rules, “Do not discuss politics. Listen to us; we ask you to sleep, you lie down; ask you to stand up, you stand up straight. There is one tap and a sink, we can only piss there; nobody is allowed to shit in this room using that sink. We go to the big toilet once a day outside of the cell. Everyone must go there in the morning and shit there. If you have to shit in this room, do it in your pants and wrap it with them.”

All of them sat on a wood board that was about one foot above the ground. The wood board covered about three-quarters of the room. The other quarter of the room was solid cement floor. We put our shoes under the wood board along the edge. On the wood board, red lines marked the space suitable for 12 people. Each side could allow six people to lie down. Some small thin quilts were piled in the corner of the room. We could put the towels on the board to let them dry. There was a small hole on one wall high up near the ceiling; big iron bars blocked it. That hole was the only inlet of fresh air. It might be big enough for me to crawl out. Probably I could climb to reach the bars, but I did not know whether I could break the bars and what it looked like outside of the wall. The wall must be very thick; little light came in through that hole.

From the time I was caught I had not passed any water. -- Is my urinary system still working? I went to pee immediately and felt a burning pain inside. Only a few drops came out; it was dark. After that, I sat on the floor and tried to think about what had really happened to me, what was going to happen to me, what could I do to avoid the worst?

-- I am in an iron cage, like a chick. They can take me out to kill me any time. This is a corridor leading to hell. Anything can happen to me. Now, the most important thing is to avoid being bullied by these guys and avoid any fighting with them.

Half an hour after I was thrown in, someone knocked at the door. Big Beard and Commissar moved to the door. A small hole at the foot of the door was opened. Plastic bowls, a bail of soup and some wotou were passed in through the hole. Big Beard was in charge of receiving and distributing them.

Everyone could have a plastic bowl of tea-colored soup and two wotou. That was the first time I had ever seen Wotou. The shape of it looked like a pyramid. It was made of whole corn, dark yellow and hard. I took the soup; tasted it, there was some salt in it. I had a bite of the Wotou. It rolled around in my mouth like sand. My throat could not take it. I did not feel hungry. I gave it back to Big Beard. Political Instructor said, "There is nothing else coming. We can only have two meals like this a day. You are going to starve if you do not eat it. Try some.” I shook my head. I finished one bowl of the brown water.

After that I washed my shirt and trousers. Then I came to sit on the board, my back against the wall.

Just when I was trying to take a nap, the door opened, and a guard was calling my name. “Cai Zheng! Come out!” --To go to another place? To be tortured? To be executed? I began trembling immediately. I feared to go. But no one could hold me here. “Put on your clothes!” said Big Beard. I had no clothes to put on. He handed me a pair of trousers. White Face handed me his suit. I hurriedly put them on, two hands holding the trousers. “Hurry up!” yelled the guard. My mind went blank. Even my lips were trembling. I followed the guy. At the outlet of the jail, there was a small cell with bars around it. I was taken in, signed a paper. They put handcuffs on me; then I was taken out.

The sun was dazzlingly bright. A military police was standing by the door. I followed the guard as we walked through a yard. A thin man in his fifties stood in the center of the yard. He looked like a mental case. His face was distorted; he hid his two hands behind his back. He examined me with his eyes half closed. When I got close to him, abruptly he thrust an iron stick at my head and screamed, “Beat you to death! Beat you to death!” I screamed and ran forward. The stick hit my back and my arms. He ran after me and kept lashing at me; the guard shouted, “Stop! Stop! That’s enough! Are you crazy?” The mental case just kept roaring, “Beat you to death! Beat you to death!” He did not run after me for very long. I was taken into one of the rooms. I was asked to state my name, my unit, and why I had been caught. Then I was taken back.

During the first three days, I could not eat anything. Amazingly I did not feel tired. Every morning, we were woken up by Big Beard, “Want to shit? Everyone must go! If you want to shit here, you have to shit in your pants!" Big Beard kicked people around and repeated the rules to warn anyone who did not want to get up in the early morning. He reminded those who did not want to go: "Are you sure? OK, if you have to shit, I will make you eat it!" All of us who wanted to go the big toilet were lined up by the door to wait for our turn.

The toilet was on the left side at the end of the corridor. By the door of the toilet sat a gray-faced guy who looked like a ghost. Inside the toilet everything was dark. There were six holes on the floor. If you were lucky you could occupy one, but most of the time, two had to share one hole. The hole was about two feet long, one foot wide. If you had to share a hole, one person had to squat behind the other -- you could not squat bottom to bottom because it was not long enough. So whoever got there first squatted in the front and later one squatted behind him facing closely the bottom of the one in front. The ground was wet and slippery; the odors made me sick. When I had just squatted down, the ghost-looking guy stood up and yelled: "Hurry up! Five minutes, three minutes, get up! Go! Go! Time is up! Get up! Go! Go! Go!" He waved his stick. The guard who drove us there also rushed in, “Time is up! Stand up! Stand up! Go! Go! Go!” He kicked those who refused to stand up. Those on the holes had to hold their trousers and run. In a few minutes everyone was out. Several guards in the corridor were waving their sticks, kicking those falling behind, “Go! Go! Hurry up! Hurry up!” One guard standing by the door of the cell drove everyone in, and some more were lined up by the door of the next cell waiting for their turn. In a few minutes we were all back in the cell, breathing heavily.

I had felt that I had something to pass, but I was used to squatting for a long time in a quiet place. With so many people around, with the urine splashing on my face, and another man’s bottom just below my nose with a string of terrible odor like white smoke thrusting into my nose, into my brains and into my chest, I could not pass anything.

The third morning, I squatted on the hole for a few minutes, and there came the yelling, "Get up! Time is up!" I tried to stand up, suddenly everything was dark, just like the lamp light being extinguished in a dark night; the noise was gone. -- Am I dying? No, I have consciousness. I can still think. I had my two hands on the wet ground, closed my eyes, rested. I clearly felt a string of clean water run through the blood cells in my brain slowly. Then I opened my eyes. I was so pleased to see the light and so glad that I could stand up!

Just after I got back to the cell, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. It had finally came. I could not hold it. "I need to use the sink," I said to Big Beard. -- That rule to have it in our pants can not apply to me. If he does not allow me to use the sink, I will beat him no matter what the price; if others in his group dare to help him, I will beat them all!

He stared at me and looked at Political Instructor and the other committee members of his group, "What is your opinion?" Political Instructor said, "This is the first time, and he has gone to the toilet this morning. No next time.” “Do it as quickly as possible. You are the Liberation Army; you have been to the toilet every morning. We will break the rule for you. Nobody else will be allowed to do this!" He said to everyone. I was really grateful. I walked to sit on the sink; everyone in the room began to cover his nose.

After that I could eat. First I could eat half a wotou, then one, then two, then I needed more. I ate it without taking any water. It got sweeter and sweeter. Big Beard had set up the rule. Every time he would repeat this rule before the meal, “If you want three, put up your hands and get it. We will take care of you. We hate hypocrites. Everyone must be honest. Or we will starve you. If you cannot finish it, you must turn it in. No one is allowed to hide anything!” The quota was two. About one third of the people could not eat two. The leftover belonged to Big Beard and his group. After finishing the initial distribution, Big Beard would ask, "Who needs a third one?” then he would extend his neck to look around.

The fourth day, after finishing two wotou I still felt hungry; water kept coming to my mouth. I put up my hand. "Nobody wants another one?" he asked again. I put my hand up higher and someone sat near me announced, "Liberation Army needs another one!" I had never seen anyone raise his hand to ask for a third one and Big Beard only seemed pleased to hear someone say "I only need one.” Big Beard raised his voice to ask: "Who?" I wanted to pull back my demand; it was not worth a fight for a wotou, but the guy near me answered, "Liberation Army!" It was very crowded; Big Beard was near the door, and I was in the crowd. He asked to see me. I could not back up. I had to stand up, “It’s me. I need one more.” He stared at me with his big, shining eyes, "Oh, it is you. I wondered who could eat three.” Then he held a wotou above his hand and announced loudly, “Pass Liberation Army a third one! --Everyone who acts according to the rules will get what he wants.” Those sitting around me had smiles on their faces, as if this was a victory for them too.

Just after I got a third one, Glasses put up his hand: "Another one for me, too.” Glasses was eating his second one. Big Beard announced, “Pass Glasses a third one."

In the evening, Big Beard came to sit by Glasses with a weird smile. He asked Glasses to give him a little room. Glasses had to move over a little bit. Sitting by Glasses, Big Beard began to feel Glasses’ clothes. "What is this?" Abruptly he roared and slapped on Glasses’ face. Glasses cried; his glasses falling down from his face. Big Beard roared furiously, "Fuck you! You wanted to fool me! Who are you? You wanted three! Can you eat three?! Get it out, eat it in front of your father!" He held the hard Wotou -- two thirds of it was left -- thrust it toward Glasses' mouth and slapped him with all his strength. Glasses tried to shift his head from left to right and then from right to left to avoid the thrust and the slap. Big Beard roared, "Eat! Eat it! You whore's son! You want to fool your father! Eat! En, eat!" All of us stared at them. Nobody gave out a single sound. There was only the crying of Glasses and roaring of Big Beard. Glasses began to beg for pardon in a miserable crying voice. Big Beard stood up, kicked him. Glasses crooked his body into a ball to protect himself.

I was surprised to see that. Why didn't Glasses fight back? What was he afraid of? Finally, Political Instructor stopped Big Beard. He said to Glasses, "You should not have done this. Ask for only as much as you can eat.” Glasses cried like a little girl.

In the very evening, Glasses was kicked to our side. Ma, who could only lie down, took his position. Ma said he had earned a Medal in the war with Vietnam. He was in because he hit some soldiers with rocks. They had beaten him heavily. Some of his ribs were broken, and something inside was injured. Bloody water kept running out of his mouth and nose.

More people were pouring in. Sometimes there were more than thirty men crowded into the small room. Now the "ordinary criminals" occupied one side and the other side was allocated to the "political criminals". With more than twenty political criminals to share the space for six, it was impossible for us to sleep well. Every night we were divided into four groups. Each group kept guard for two hours. Big Beard organized this. Each of the non-political criminals headed one group. They could sit down. Others "on duty" had to stand up on the cement floor. The cement area could accommodate more than ten people standing. The rest could lie down on the wood board. Thus it partially solved the problem of overcrowding in the night.

I was used to sleeping on my back. Now I could only sleep on my side, and all of us had to crowd together chest to back. My shoulders were too wide to sleep on my side. Every night, I could not sleep, and I could not move; any move would disturb others.

One night when I was on duty with Big Beard, he pulled out a cloth package under the wood board. He unwrapped it to get out a steamed bread. We had two steamed breads every Tuesday and Friday. He tore one piece of bread; just before he thrust it into his mouth, he noticed me. He stopped, then eyed me to move closer to him. I moved to sit by him. He split the bread, offered me half of it. I shook my head. It was a shame to eat the food behind others’ backs -- which was actually in front of those who were on "duty”. He used the bread to touch my hand with a friendly smile. I was flattered. Nobody else got an invitation to share the food with him. Others turned away their eyes. I was hungry. However I said, "Thanks, I am not hungry.” “Are you sure?" I nodded. He gave me a smile, began his eating. He torn the bread to be small pieces then put small pieces into his mouth. Some pieces fell on his legs; the black hair on his legs stopping the crumbs from falling onto the board. He picked it from among the black hair, opened his mouth widely, and extended his red tongue to receive it. Then his mouth was closed; the muscles around his mouth began moving.

After the duty with Big Beard, it was time for me to sleep. When I just lied down, the door opened. “Cai Zheng! Come out!” Big Beard eyed me, said, “Interrogation!” Suddenly I was strung out. I had hoped that they would leave me alone. If they did not interrogate you anymore, that meant you just needed to wait to be released; if they kept interrogating you, you had a problem. It was twelve o’clock. I knew that they would not let me go easily, I had been prepared for that, but I could not prepare well.

I followed the guy to a small room. Four guys were waiting for me. One was in military police uniform, a major. His face appeared to be made of iron. A middle-aged man with a nice face held a pen and a notebook. A black, fat, nasty-looking guy sat in the corner. On his face, clusters of fat black flesh on different parts were fighting with each other to have their own space; two small rat’s eyes were rolling among a cluster of dark flesh. He was dressed in a dark short shirt and dark trousers. His arms were short and big. He was the typical “five-short” man -- short stature, short head, short neck, short arms and short legs. Another civilian was sitting close to the military policeman. I was motioned to sit on a bench.

The nice-faced guy said, “Tell us the truth, we already know everything you have done! If you tell the truth, that may make your crime lighter. It is useless to lie. For your own sake, tell the truth.” He pointed to the major, “He is from the Bureau of National Security. First, answer some of his questions. Are you ready?”

-- They must have carried out a very detailed investigation during the time I have been incarcerated. They may have video recordings – they may know what I had done in the street. They may have gone to Beijing University, and they may have been to our academy. Do they know that I wrote a letter to the ground troops? If they know that and I refuse to tell them, it will be worse. --God, if they know that, I will be done for. I can tell them everything, but I must not mention that!

Every part of my body felt intense. I nodded. Then they came to the topic: Why I was here.

I said that I was back home, and forgot to bring my ID, and said something inappropriate, so I was here.

“Is it that simple?” The National Security asked scornfully, “You mean this is all a mistake?”

“Yes.”

“What? You look like a dishonest guy! You want to fool us!” He shouted, “Teach him a lesson!” With a roar, the black cluster of flesh jumped up, lashed a big stick on the back of my neck. Another guy rushed in, thrust his black electrical stick against my face. I raised my hands, twisted my head to avoid it. Still it touched my cheek. It was like a bomb exploding on my face. I screamed and tried to stand up to dodge the electrical stick. Three of them pushed me down to remain fixed on the stool. I screamed, “Please don’t! Don’t ……! I will tell everything!”

Suddenly they stopped. My soul was scared out of me. The horror the electrical stick caused was indescribable.

“Dare you lie again?!” the black guy shouted. I trembled violently, almost cried out, “No, No, I dare not!”

“You must cooperate with us, or we will turn you into a vegetable! You are a counter-revolutionary! --Do you want to go out of here alive and with a working mind?” The National Security clenched his teeth.

I nodded. Living with a damaged brain would be worse than being killed. Then the National Security offered me a cigarette. “You are smart. You must cooperate with us. OK, take the cigarette, think a while. When you are ready, tell us everything.”

I hesitated and took the cigarette. I was all shaking. The secretary lit it for me. I did not smoke it.

“Take a break, think it over from the very beginning. Think about what you have done. Do not try to cheat us! We knew you were trying to fool us! You know who we are? -- I have been in this business for 20 years! You think you can fool me?” said the National Security. He adjusted the light toward me. I was submerged in the dazzlingly light.

After a while, the nice-faced guy asked: “Are you ready to answer our questions?”

“Yes.”

“Do you dare to try to trick us again?” asked the National Security.

“No, I dare not.” I was exhausted. I was disabled. I admired the Communists in the movies. They could withstand the burned iron stick; they could withstand pinching-fingers; they could withstand everything. I could not. I feared the electrical stick. Not to be disabled right now, I would tell them everything straight.

“That is wise. First, tell me, which independent association of the army do you belong to?”

--What a stupid question! He is going to trap me?

I said: “I have never heard of any such organization.”

“Is there an independent organization in your unit?”

“No.”

“You are lying!” roared the National Security. He became a wolf again. “Give him a reminder!” The black cluster of flesh ran against me and lashed the stick on my neck. I raised my voice, “I am telling the truth! I really have never heard of it!” He waved his hands; the black ball of flesh rolled back to his seat.

“How many soldiers have you killed?”

“I have never had such an encounter. I did not wound anyone.”

“Don’t lie! Now, tell us, from the very minute you came to Beijing, till you were caught, where you went, which bus you took, where you stayed, who you met. Do not skip over one minute! We know all you have done! Not a single lie! Or we will disable you. Repeat what I said.”

“Tell me whatever you have done, in every minute, not a single lie, or we will disable you.”

“Repeat it in your own words.”

“Tell you what I have done every minute since I came to Beijing. No omissions.”

“Look at my eyes.” He walked toward me, seized my chin in his hands. His claw clenched onto my chin bone. He raised my head, forced me to look into his eyes. His eyes were yellowish and muddy, like a hungry pig’s. “If you tell a single lie, you will be committing suicide! I will disable you mentally right now! Get it?” He twisted my head up.

“En.” I could only give out an unclean sound.

“OK, start.” He let go of my chin and moved back to his chair.

I began to sweat heavily. I needed to comb my memory. -- What I should tell them, what I should not? What I did and said could bring me into disaster? They will dig at what I say and seek more details. If I tell them one thing, they will push me to tell them ten more about that. They would feel along the vines to get to the melon. And they can use what I tell them to kill me at any time. I have to explain where I got the pamphlets. I can not mention the names of the students. If I mention their names, they will be in prison the next day. I have to tell them how the pamphlets entered my bag. They must have video cameras everywhere. I have to tell them that I waved the big wood board at Beijing University. It may be OK, for I had not hurt anybody. ……

I began to tell them what I had done those days.

When I came to describe that I had seen the burning of the tanks, the National Security stopped me, “How many did you burn?”

“None. I was too sensitive to the smoke. I could not get close. I could not stand the stench.”

“You're lying!” roared the National Security, “Give me the electrical stick!” Just like a robot being switched on, the black cluster of flesh jumped up to lash at me. I said loudly, “You can check the video tape. You can shoot me to death if you find that I have done that!”

National Security waved his hand. The black cluster of flesh stopped. “We will. You know the consequences of lying.”

When I was describing how on June the 4th, I saw many people throwing rocks, they pushed me hard to force me to admit that I had thrown rocks. I said, “How could I throw rocks? I had to hold my bike --I had borrowed it from others. What’s more, no rocks ever reached the line held by the army men. They had guns. There were no rocks around. You can check the video tapes you have.”

“So you were thinking of throwing rocks?”

“No, I knew it was useless to do that.”

……

I was blindfolded. They were forcing me to move forward quickly. I must keep going and going. I did not know where the next step was. It could be a cliff, one step -- one sentence of mine would land me in hell; another move of mine would trample upon a nest of a rice chickens, destroying some innocent lives. They were beating me, kicking me and pushing me. They did not allow me to stand still to weigh my words. I must say something to destroy my own or other’s lives. I was trying desperately to avoid that, but I needed a place to put my feet or I would fall; I did not know where the nest was and where the cliffs were. I needed to be more highly alert to avoid saying something that they would dig into. I was hung up for too long. I was too tired to be alert. I talked and talked. Sometimes I was lost in the description of my experience; I just wanted to let them know everything. That made me feel better. All those things I did and I saw were pressing against my nerves trying to burst out. I was too exhausted to select what to tell and what not to tell. My nerves were all shattered. I lost the ability to think. I gave up. In the end, I even told them that I had dropped the pamphlets into commissar’s mailbox back in the barracks.

They seemed satisfied with my confession. When the interrogation was finished, it was four o’clock. They asked me to sign the record -- the secretary had kept notes of what I had said. I collapsed. I just wanted to get away from them; I just wanted to lie down. “Read it and sign.” said the secretary. I trust you -- I wanted to say. “You have to read it before you sign.” the secretary said again. He pushed all the pages into my hand, forcing me to read it. I had to take a look at it. But there were too many pages. I could not see clearly and I did not have the energy to care about future, I had no future. “Give me the pen.” “Have you finished reading it?” “Yes.” “Are there any mistakes? If there is any, let us know now.” “I did not find any.” I signed.

When I got back, most of my cellmates were asleep. I was shivering violently. I dropped myself onto the board next to a college student. I had used all my energy to stop myself from telling them that I had written the letter. It was just like I had been tortured by bandits to give up all my treasures; I had given out everything but kept the diamond, the very thing they wanted. I had been continuously giving them something to relieve myself from the torture. The diamond had been struggling in my mind to get out. To vomit it out would have made me feel released. After that, I would have nothing hidden from them. Then they would leave me alone. I would not have to struggle so intensively to choose what I should tell them and what I should not. What I told them might lead me to hell, but the hell was for tomorrow. ……

My teeth were chattering. My hands were shaking. My whole body had dried up. The student near me was woken up. I grasped his hands tightly. “I am done!” cried I. He grasped my arms, “What did you tell them?“ “I can not stand it. I can’t!” The diamond was growing heavier and heavier, it became a big rock in my mind. I could not hold it any longer. -- Next time, I will let it out to save me from the pain. “What did you tell them? That you burned tanks?” asked the student. I said no. “That you killed army men?” No. “Then nothing is that serious. Do not be frightened. Do not tell them anymore. Go to sleep. Calm down.” “No, I cannot hold on! I cannot!” “If you cannot, who can?” He put on a smile, “Go to sleep.” He was younger. I felt ashamed to show my weakness to him.

-- It is true that I have not told them anything serious. I am frightened because I will not be able to help telling them that I wrote a letter to the land troops the next time. But the reality is, I have not told them. ……

Still I could not calm down. I had thought that I was a strong man. No, I am not. I was brought to kneel in a few seconds faced with torture. I came to think of a general in the Taiping Uprising. He wrote a confession when he was caught and put in a cart with only his head and hands sticking out of the holes. That confession became the most precious historical document about the uprising. He had been one of the most outstanding generals in the uprising. In the history books it says: he became the shameless traitor of the noble revolutionary cause. No, he was a real hero, but he was no more himself after he was put in the dead man’s cart. He had passed the line of death. He would say whatever they wanted him to say; he would obtain a kind of relief by doing that. ……

I raised my head to look around. Some were standing there; some were asleep. --Now all of them are breathing in oxygen, red warm blood is flowing in their bodies; ideas are sparkling in their brains like fireflies. Someone in this room will be shot to death shortly -- If I told them the truth, I may be sentenced to death. -- How could human beings kill their own species? How cruel it is that the society systematically deprives people of their life! The judges order a person to commit the crime of killing. No human beings should have the right to deprive others’ of life for any reason. If one supports the death penalty, let him stand in the shoes of those who are sentenced to death to experience the horror of facing a forced death. …… Human beings have never stopped creating pain for their own species and the greatest pain of human beings is caused by their own species, not by nature or disease. ……

--There is too much hatred in this land. This is a horrible country to live in. Nobody knows when the hatred root in the land will explode. By then everyone will have become a landmine threatening each other. Hundreds of years of hatred have accumulated on this land; it has been discharged once and once again, but it had never been exhausted. This hatred could destroy the nation. Horrible! Horrible. Oh, if I could survive, if I could get freedom, I would go to live in a small island in the Pacific Ocean; there would be no hatred, no any human stupidity. -- Could I find such an enclave free of the nuclear pollution once there was a world war? Oh, there is no safe place on this earth. ……

I clenched my teeth swearing to myself: if I could live on, if I could get freedom, I would work to death to prove to the world, to the future generations that I have been living in this world!

 

 

 

 

3. Political Criminals

 

It seemed that they were bringing all the people into the jail. Every other hour, the door opened and new people were thrown in like ducks. Within a few minutes, the old prisoners were asking the newcomers why they were brought in. One student was brought there because he shouted "Down with Li Peng!" in his residential compound. One young man picked up a tear gas bomb and hid it in his room; his old mother was also arrested and beaten by the soldiers. He was mad about that and had tried to argue with the soldiers so he was badly worked over -- we could not tell his nose from his eyes. I was amazed that one man's face could look like that – all over his face we only saw purple and black fleshy blobs sticking out and hanging down. I did not know how he could manage to speak, to breathe, to eat and to see. When he breathed he gave out a sound like a strong wind blowing through a small hole in a wall. One middle-aged crippled man, with one hand crooked and stuck to his chest, very thin and dark, could not stand up straight and had to wave his body like he was paddling a canoe to move forward. He said he was in for helping overturn the tanks. “How could you overturn the tanks?” Big Beard laughed. “You pushed tanks like this?” Big Beard leaned his body to one side, held one of his feet, waved his shoulder, thrust forward, then suddenly dropped himself down to the ground on one side, like a hen whose feet and wings were broken. His performance was so funny. Many of us could not help laughing. The cripple, who said he was a cobbler, also chuckled a bit to himself. A graduate student from the University of Technology and Science majoring in math, who had just gotten a job assignment, was heading to the train station to go home, he could not help making a face at a soldier standing on the shoulder of the road. They caught him, beat him, and brought him here. He severely criticized himself: “I really should not have done that. I am afraid I will lose my job. Hope they release me before September 1st, --that is the dead line for reporting to the work unit. I was really stupid to have done that.”

One day a little child was thrown in, he was completely naked. He looked around with a frightened look. It was such an innocent and childish look. "Why are you here?" Big Beard snatched away his short pants so the boy had nothing to cover himself with. He tried to squat there and protect his privates, but his bottom was sticking out -- it was very tender and white. Big Beard slapped his bottom, immediately the boy gave out a scream. Big Beard yelled at him, "Stand up!” He stood up with bewildered eyes. His hands still covered his privates. "Put up your hands and stand up straight!" Real fear then filled his eyes. He looked around as if to seek help or other guidance about how to behave, but nobody gave him any clues. He cried, took his hands off his privates. Many of us laughed. The little chick was small, white, and it was flat there – there was not any hair. Big Beard threw his clothes at his feet and issued another order, "Stop crying!” Immediately he stopped crying.

"Why are you here?" Big Beard said, softening his tone. The boy said he was a dare-to-die member at Tiananmen Square. "You dare to die?” Big Beard raised his hand and pinched the skin on the boy's fat belly. The boy screamed loudly as if being killed. Big Beard laughed, "You are afraid of pain, how dare you to claim you are dare-to-die?” Many of us laughed again. "Are you a college student?” “No, I just graduated from middle-school.” "Where are you from?” He said he came from Shangdong without letting his parents know where he was going. He just came and joined the students' dare-to-die team. He got a one-hundred yuan note. He was fifteen years old. Commissar sighed, asked him to sit near him, "Do not worry. They are not going to shoot you.” Big Beard asked, "Are you hungry?” He nodded. "You are so fat, you need to lose some weight.” Still he dragged out the cloth pack from below the wooden board, took out a wotou, and handed it to the boy. The little boy probably hadn't ever seen wotou just as most of the rest of us hadn't. He examined it suspiciously. A miserable look appeared on his face. Perhaps he thought this was a trick to make fun of him. Big Beard raised his voice, "Eat it! It is not poison. It is food!” Then the boy thrust the wotou into his mouth and began to chew it. After a few bites, he began to eat quickly, forgetting everyone around him; all his focus was on the dark wotou. Now it seemed that he was afraid that somebody would snatch it away. All of us looked at him. "He must be very hungry.” Political Instructor looked at him with a smile. Within a couple of minutes, he finished the wotou and began to seek the crumbs that had fallen on the board. He captured some with his fingers. He raised his eyes to look at us, then put the crumbs into his mouth. "Are you still hungry?" asked Political Instructor. He nodded, licking his lips. "No more. You need to wait till the meal comes.” Then he lay down on the board near Political Instructor. His eyes opened wide, in a moment his eyes closed. He began to snore.

"How could they bring the child here?" Political Instructor shook his head. This boy looked much younger than the age of fifteen. I wondered how worried his parents were -- they must have been for he told us later that he was the only child in his family.

There was another guy who caused a lot of uneasiness. When he was shoved in, his feet and hands were bound together by a big triangular iron chain. He had on a white shirt and yellow trousers. His clothes showed that he was a soldier. He was strong. All his skin was reddish. His left foot was swollen; on the outside of his leg, a few inches below his knee there was a small hole. It looked as though a bullet could still be inside the hole. Blood oozed out of that red-dark hole. He was thrown on the ground and he just kept lying on the ground without changing his position. We helped him to sit up straight with his back against the wall, but he slowly fell to one side and slipped to the ground. His eyes were half-closed and half-open. The expression on his face really scared me: was he a mental case or what? His eyes were not focused; there was always more whiteness than blackness in his half-open, half-closed eyes; he rarely blinked. Water continuously dripped out of his mouth and trickled down to the floor and he never tried to stop it. Sometimes it seemed that he tried to open his eyes a little wider, but he could not. "He must be a dead man," said Big Beard. Only those who were violent or would surely be executed immediately had shackles and handcuffs linked together. "Why are you here?" asked Big Beard. No response came. Big Beard yelled at him again, "Why are you here?” It seemed as though he fully ignored the question or felt too tired to respond; not a single word was emitted. Big Beard kicked him; the newcomer did not move or open his eyes any wider. "He must be an idiot.” Big Beard asked me to examine his leg, “Was he shot in the leg?” I really could not tell. The hole mid-way between his knee and his ankle could have been caused by a bullet or by a knife. Examining it closely, it appeared more like a bullet hole. I was just wondering why the doctors had not done something about his leg? How could they let the hole stay open? Were they planning to take out the bullet later --leaving it open may make it easier to take it out? Big Beard asked, “Is he a soldier?” His hair was flat and short. That was a typical soldier's haircut. His shirt was made of pure cotton; but since 1987 the shirts for army men had not been made of pure cotton. His trousers were military trousers. His clothes, his appearance all indicated that he was a soldier. We soldiers often preferred wearing the old shirts made of pure cotton. However, only his belt could reveal for sure whether he was really an army man or not. We all had special belts with the number of our troops on them. He had no belt. Shoes and caps are also reliable signs of a soldier; but he had no shoes or cap. He might have been a peasant. His complexion looked like he was from the Northwest. A peasant from the Northwest to be here was quite a rare thing; he must be a soldier then. If he was a soldier, he must be smart; however, his appearance only indicated to us that he was an idiot. Was his appearance of stupidity a result of severe beatings? Or he was just very strong to be able to control himself and bear the sharp pain and decide to ignore all that happened to him? -- What had happened to him?

Big Beard was mad at him, "I will starve you! No food for you if you do not tell us why you are here!” In response, he just let more water run out of his mouth in place of words; it seemed that there was a grin on his face. We could not tell if this was a show of contempt or a silly smile or nothing but just a mental case's natural response to outside stimulation. Big Beard poised himself to kick him, but his feet stopped short of reaching him; the wound and the blood oozing out of his leg probably scared him. He gave up and turned to me again, "Liberation Army, can you tell if this is a bullet wound? Is he a soldier in service?” I could not tell for sure. I hoped that I could build his trust in me and thus solve the puzzle. I was a soldier; he might trust me and share his secret with me. When the meal came, I volunteered to feed him. I was sad for him. He must be just like me: an honest soldier. He might have been very straight and brave once; now that they'd damaged his brain, he was not in full consciousness, or maybe he was just pretending to be a fool. I tried to feed him. It was impossible for me to do it alone. I asked another detainee, Xiao Lin, to help me. We had him sit up against the wall -- he was not allowed to sit on the wood board because reddish stuff and water kept oozing out of his wound and his mouth. I tried to spoon the soup into his mouth. I looked into his eyes. The light in his eyes was so strange. It was not the eyesight of a living human being but the eyesight of a ghost, a dead man. I could not stand looking into his eyes. He refused to open his mouth, or perhaps he could not control his muscles to open his mouth. I thrust the spoon toward his lips, but his teeth blocked the way. "Please eat, my friend, eat. No matter what has happened, you must eat," I said. No response. It seemed his eyes were able to see. Did he see me? "Are you an army man? From the ground troops? I am an army man, from the air force.” I thought that my background might make him think that I was his comrade. I was totally disappointed. He did not give any sign to show that he heard what I said. Only occasionally a scornful grin appeared on his face. The grin was silly; it showed that he was a mental case or a retarded person. I had to give up trying to persuade him to eat. Xiao Lin replaced me to feed him; he also failed to get him to open his mouth.

His leg was growing bigger and bigger in the area of the wound. The skin on his shin turned purple and dark. It appeared he would lose his leg, perhaps even his life because of the dark hole. I asked Big Beard to report to the authorities that he might be dying; but no doctors came. Maybe they thought it was a waste to give him medical care since he was going to be executed soon? Big Beard tried to ask a guard why that guy was here. The guard knocked him on his head and told him to mind his own business. The mysterious man stayed with us for three days; no water or food had ever got into his mouth and no a single word had ever come out of his mouth. Nobody knew what he was, what he had done, where he was taken to. He remained a total puzzle to me. I tried so hard to figure out whether he was a soldier or not, whether he was a smart guy or an idiot, but he offered me no clue.

Another day a man was brought in with his feet and hands bound together by a big iron chain. The shackles were even bigger and heavier than those we had seen on the silent man. The shackles were just like those we had seen in the movies -- where they had been put on the brave communists by Kuomingtang or by Japanese invaders. This man could only move forward with his hands dropping down and his head lowering to the height of his knees. He walked like an old ape. He was quite dark and thin. When he was thrown in, Big Beard asked him, "What have you done?” “Burned buses." "How many have you burned?” He responded calmly, "Three.” "Have any record?” “Yes.” "How long?” “Three years.” "Where are you from?” “Shenyang.” "How did they capture you?” “This morning I sneaked onto a bus to set fire to it, some soldiers hiding inside caught me.” "How old are you?” “Thirty-five.” "That's all you will live. You are done, man.” Political Instructor also said, "Your life will end here. You know when you have these shackles, you are done for.” The man grinned at them, exposing his white teeth. I was surprised by his composure. Big Beard and his group were all making jokes about his coming death. They must really have been happy to see someone coming to a worse ending than them. "You are dead! Do you know they are going to Pong Pong -- shoot you to death.” Big Beard formed his hands to be a pistol and aimed at his temple, pulled the trigger, and yelled "ah-” and fell back like a man being shot. All of them laughed. The man grinned back. Big Beard began asking him more questions and he responded as calmly as though he was talking about someone else. "Are you married?” “Divorced.” All his talking and appearance made him just like the brave communists (in the movies) facing gunpoint at the execution spot. The only difference was that he was more casual and more unconcerned. -- Why was I so anxious and so scared?

In a moment the meal came. With hands and feet tied together, the Bus Burner joined his two knees together, got the wotou and put it on the top of his knees. He fixed the wotou on his knees with his two hands, then lowered his head to get close to it, and extended his mouth to bite it. He ate with such enthusiasm. He extended his head, bit the wotou from above, from the left, from the right, from all the possible angles. He managed not to let any crumbs fall on the ground. He ate so fast and chewed so powerfully. He finished his two. When Big Beard asked, "Who wants more?” He said, "I.” Big Beard said, "Fuck you, you are going to be shot! Why do you still eat so much?” He only grinned back. Big Beard gave him another piece of wotou. He began to eat again. But he had difficulty drinking his water, for his shackles kept him from holding the bowl aright. I helped him to drink. He put half of his mouth inside the soup bowl and drank so eagerly that I heard the "goo goo" sound and saw the rolling of the ball on his neck. Later I got to know his name was Wang Lian Ju. It was the name of a traitor in the model opera "The Story of the Red Lamp".

One day in came a real idiot. When he was thrown in, he crawled by the door where he had been thrown and looked up with such a frightened look. He held his clothes tightly to himself and did not move. All his hair, his face, his body were so dirty that it looked like that he just came from a garbage can or a mine tunnel. He stunk. Many of us covered our noses. He must be a beggar in the street. Dirty yellow stuff kept oozing out from his nose. His head was leaning to one side; his lips could not stay together; his mouth was half-open. His eyeballs did not move. It seemed that he did not know how to blink his eyes. He was weak and small. All his appearance suggested that he was an idiot or a mentally retarded guy. He looked like he was in his early twenties. "Move forward!" Big Beard ordered. He did not respond, just slowly turned his head a little bit. "Put on your clothes!” He still did not respond. Big Beard jumped up and kicked him; he did not respond, but looked up slowly, his eyes were full of fear. "Are you an idiot?" Big Beard yelled, "Why you are here?” No response. "Where are you from?” Finally the idiot opened his mouth, “Liu Zhuang.” All of us could not help laughing. Liu Zhuang could be any village's name. Only a three-year old child could possibly give such a silly answer when they were asked where they were from. "Where is Liu Zhuang?” “Don’t know.” "How old are you?” “Don’t know.” Some muddy water hung down from his nose and he did not wipe it away. He still held tightly to his clothes. "What do you do?” “Shoe maker (Zuo Xie De).” Xiao Lin laughed. "We are in the same work unit -- I am Zuo Xie De (working for the Association of Writers).” We laughed again.

Just after the idiot put on his trousers, a loud sound came out of him. His face turned ugly. There was a terrible stench. "Stool. Pass stool," he said in a silly tone. Big Beard said, "Pass it in your pants! This is the rule!” He looked up miserably. "I said, do it in your own pants! Nobody is allowed to shit in this room!” Idiot squatted, dropped his trousers. Big Beard screamed, "Have it in your trousers! -- Put on your trousers!” He held on to his trousers, squatted. Another loud noise came out of him. Everyone covered his nose. I intended to say something, but it was too late. After he had his stool in his trousers, he still squatted there, like a hen hatching eggs. Big Beard yelled at him, "Go to take off your trousers -- wash them.” Political Instructor said, "What a man they have caught! What kind of man would they spare?" The idiot moved to the sink and took off his trousers. They were all dirty. Political Instructor paid special attention to him after that, and asked him to sit by him. He was given the nickname: "Idiot".

He really was an idiot. He could not hold his head straight. It was always leaning to one side. He could only utter a few simple sentences completely. He spoke like a three-year old child. Political Instructor later got to know from the guards that they had beaten him very hard, still they could not get him to tell them where he was from; he simply did not know. All his movements, his crying and the dirty nasal mucus told us that he was an idiot. He never knew what to do. When he got a wotou, he did not even know he should eat it. He held the wotou and stared at others with such a stupid expression. "Eat!" Political Instructor told him. He put on a silly smile and then bit it. When Big Beard yelled at him, he would cry so stupidly, so ugly, so loudly and miserably. Tears rolled down from his eyes; yellow water dripped down from his mouth and nose. He just cried to himself, cried like a child -- without any concern that his crying might be annoying to others. Then Political Instructor had to comfort him; he slowly stopped crying. Idiot only got questioned one time, and then he was left alone. Political Instructor told him to wait to go home.

Every evening, we had two hours for playing games. We had playing cards and Elephant chess. When the time was up, Big Beard would declare, "Now it is the game time! Whoever wants to play cards, put up your hands.” Playing cards was the best entertainment we had. All of them wanted to participate in it. Hoping to relieve my anxiety, I decided to play chess. I asked, "Who would like to play chess?” Only Idiot was left out of the card game. He picked up the chess set and moved toward me with yellowish stuff hanging from his nose. It was an insult to me to play chess with an idiot though I was not very good at it myself. Playing chess really requires intelligence. Seeing him moving toward me, I just said that I did not want to play now. He stared at me. His gaze scared me -- there was fury in his eyes. He crawled toward me and grasped my elbow so tightly and did not let it go; he thrust the chessboard at my waist silently. I had to sit down and play with him. “OK, you go first.” I looked around. I did not need even use my neck (not to mention my brain) to play with him. He did not move the chess. I said again, “You go first.” He still did not move, just stared at me. I had to start moving first. He did not say one single word, just leaned his head to one side and moved the chess pieces slowly. After a few turns, I found that I was not in a good position. All his chess pieces were occupying my field and encroaching on the King. I thought it was because the intrusion of fear of being interrogated stopped me from thinking normally and I had not paid any attention to his moves. I tried to recover, but it was too late. After a few more moves, he won. I wanted to stop. He did not move away, just silently placed all the chess on the chessboard for him and for me, then stared at me and blinked his eyes. The blinking surprised me just like that a statue made of stone suddenly extended his hands to touch me. He was forcing me to take action. I had to move first again. This time, I took him seriously. I tried to use a few tricky steps to deal with him. However just as soon as my chess piece landed, he had his chess piece placed in front of me, blocking my way and destroying my plan. He defended his pieces very strategically. After a few moves, he invaded my territory. The attack was so skillful that I had to move my chessmen around just to defend my own pieces. He attacked from two sides, three ways; I could not block his invasion. After a few more moves, when I was trying to move a chess piece, he had a grin on his face and scornfully stared at me. Suddenly I realized that I could not move that chess piece -- I was dead. I just could not believe it! I initiated another game. This time I threw in all the little tricks I had learned from my father. But as soon as I placed a piece, he immediately had one of his blocking my way -- he was always ahead of my moves. The third time I lost again. After I acknowledged the loss, he looked at me through the narrow slit of his eyes. There was a secret, proud smile on his face. I smiled back. Suddenly I came to realize that if he was an idiot, he must have been a smarter idiot than I was.

One day when I was talking with Xiao Lin, we came to talk about politics in a low voice. Abruptly Idiot cut in and said in a low voice, "If we teach people, we will have democracy in a few years.” Still yellowish stuff was oozing from his nose. This time it shocked me as though a statue made of stone had suddenly jumped up and began to dance! -- An idiot could not possibly know the word “democracy”; but who knows, maybe only an idiot would dare to utter that word in this cell! Fortunately only Xiao Lin and I heard him say it. -- What an “idiot” he was!

One evening, in came a guy with such a long hair it looked fake. His hair was ironed and popped up at all directions. He was crying when he was pushed in. In a minute he was taken out again. The door was left open. We saw camera lights shooting and heard shouting and yelling. A few minutes later he was thrown back in again. He cried sadly. Big Beard yelled at him to ask him stop polluting the air. Then the guy changed to crying in a lower, sadder tone. I tried to comfort him. "It is OK. All of us are in the same boat, nobody is crying. You see that guy? He is going to be put to death in a few days, yet he smiles all the time. What has made you so sad?” He cried, "I'm worried about my dad. ...I am 17 years old. If they shoot me, twenty years from now, I will be a good husband, but my death will kill my dad.” Abruptly he stopped crying, saying to himself loudly and determinedly, "Yes, twenty years later I shall be a great man!” That declaration comforted him. He brushed away his tears and told us that he had been brought in because he hid an automatic rifle he had picked up. He said his father was a soldier in the Eighth Route Army. His father had fought the Japanese. His name was Zhang Jun ("Jun" means "army man"). He slept beside me that evening. I asked him, "What do you do?” “I make fried cakes.” "How much money do you make?” “Around thirty yuan a day.” I was surprised. I only got 40 yuan for one month as a fourth-year soldier and a captain got only 300 yuan for a month. This guy might be the kind of people many poor intellectuals envied. These people did not have much education, but they made good money. I said, "If I get out, I need to make a living. I would like to learn to make fried cake from you. Would you like to have me as your apprentice?” Immediately his eyes brightened up; he heavily slapped his chest, "I will teach you everything! Come to stay with me in my home! -- There are so many little secrets, every one of us has different secret ingredients and we each have our own spot for selling fried cakes. I go to get the fresh corn syrup at five in the morning and get the soybean milk, put them together and stir them. Then I put in the yeast -- this is the secret. How much you put in depends on when you put it in; there is a difference between making them in the summer and making them in the winter. You must make the best estimation. If you put in the wrong amount of ingredients you are done for. What's more, how much corn syrup you need to prepare depends upon the date; some days you must prepare two barrels. The ratio of water in the corn syrup must be delicately balanced; sometimes we put in sweet rice powder and salt or it will be easily broken….” He began to tell me about how to make fried cakes, how to sell them, how to store them, how to occupy the spot. He fully indulged in teaching me. I had never met such an enthusiastic teacher. He held my hands and swore that he would teach me all his secrets and help me to set up my own business in Beijing. In the very middle of that enthusiastic speech, abruptly he stopped and cried, "Papa, I am going to die....en ....en...” and after a few seconds of crying, he raised his head again, firmly brushed away his tears and sorrow, "Twenty years from now, I am going to be a great man!” I said, "You are not going to be shot. If you were surely going to be shot, they would have put shackles on you. What's more, how old are you?” “I just had my 16th birthday.” "You know, the law in our country prevents them from sentencing those younger than 18 to death.” "Really?" his eyes brightened up, "How do you know that? I don’t believe it.” I said, "You can ask anyone.” Immediately he turned to ask Xiao Zhen Tong, a college student from the Beijing Institute of Technology and Science, who sat beside me. Xiao Said, "Yes, according to the law, that’s the case. But they are not doing things according to the law. This is a special time.” The boy became sad again. However a few seconds later he seemed to have accepted the reality, "Anyway, twenty years from now, I will be a good husband. I have enjoyed my life -- I have eaten in almost all the good restaurants in the old Beijing! Sometimes if I make a lot of money in one day I take the day off the next day. I go to eat in any restaurant I like. I take my father out to eat with me. He does not want my money. I do not envy anyone, even the movie stars! I am not afraid of being shot.” I really admired him; I had hardly ever eaten in any of the restaurants in Beijing, not to speak of good restaurants. I said, "You still need to teach me how to make fried cakes.” "Sure, if I get out, I will take you to buy the cooking tools and teach you how to make tools yourself. There are also lots of secrets about making the cooking tools.” He told me his address and asked me go to see him after I got out. Just a few minutes after Big Beard declared “No talking! Time to sleep!”, he fell asleep.

I just did not understand how he could find comfort in the fact that he would be a great man twenty years later if he was put to death now. He seemed to firmly believe that one who died could come back to life. The belief was popular in the past in rural areas. How could one young man in Beijing come to believe that? Faith really brings great comfort to people. Myself, I was always so anxious. I often wanted to hit the walls with my fists! I could not stand to be caged in this small cell to wait to be killed! I knew that if I was killed, I would never come back to life. Nothing could comfort me. Nothing could relieve my anxiety. 

One afternoon a neat-looking man in his late 30's was thrown in. He seemed more like an intellectual than the taxi driver he claimed to be. He was brought in for organizing the Free Workers' Union. He tried to be self-controlled and self-confident. Big Beard asked him to read the Rules of the Custody. He stared at Big Beard with full contempt and simply did not respond to the order. Big Beard shouted at him, "Go to the wall, read it aloud!” He did not move. "Do you have ears?" roared Big Beard. He just stared back scornfully. "How dare you not answer me? I will slap you, bastard!" Big Beard picked up a shoe, raised it over his head and ran toward him. A fight was going to start and surely the newcomer would suffer the greater loss. I became anxious. He did not know the real situation here. He was too weak. He must be a disciple of Gandhi; he just sat on the floor crossing his feet in front of him like Buddha. There was an air of self-assurance and composure around him that a sensitive person might feel uneasy about disturbing. But Big Beard was not that kind of sensitive person. Without hesitation, I jumped up, wrapped Big Beard with my two arms and said with a loud laugh, "Don't be angry. We are friends. Just forgive him...” -- By that time, I had established a kind of authority among the "political criminals". Nevertheless I knew the best way to prevent him from bullying the "political criminals" was not to confront him with my fists, but with a smile and a joke. Of course, physical capability was more important than anything else for being considered the master of this room. Everyone was afraid of Big Beard without having any substantial reason. Perhaps we were simply afraid of getting into trouble. By then I had gotten to know him; he had told me a lot about himself. If there was a fight between him and me, though several in his group might stand with him, possibly more would stand behind me. The important part was that I would beat him down in one strike although he was fat and strong. I had told him that I had been trained to fight with my bare hands. Now I held his waist; he could not move forward. I kept laughing, "Do not lose your temper, let's talk peacefully...Chairman Mao has taught us that we should struggle civilly, not struggle with violence.” He looked back with his bright eyes and struggled to move forward. I used my strength to hold him without intensifying my breathing. How could he move? I said to Worker's Union, "Let's talk peacefully. OK? Please just read it, my friend. All of us did the same thing.” Big Beard looked back angrily but smiled back at me at once. "If it was not for the face of Liberation Army, I would smash your ugly face! How dare you not listen to me?” Workers' Union still did not move. He glanced at Big Beard with complete contempt. That glance made Big Beard jump up and clench his teeth, "Let me dig out his eyes, Liberation Army!" I did not let him go, "All the people around the world are brothers. We are all brothers, right?” Other people stepped in to persuade Workers’ Union to read, and some more stood up to persuade Big Beard to take it easy. Big Beard cursed, spittle splattered. I let go of one hand to get the shoe out of his hand to prevent him from throwing it at Workers’ Union. Then I pushed him back to his seat. He said to me, "You see, you see that guy, what does he think he is? Dog's shit! He dared to disobey me!” He turned to Worker’s Union, “Fuck you. I forgive you this time. Read!” Workers’ Union gave in to others' persuasions and began to read in a clear voice. A fight was avoided.

Xiao Lin was the most welcome man in the cell. He had been brought in a few days after me. He was the son of a famous poet. When I was in high school, I liked his father's poems. His father was put into a labor camp for twenty years and was let out after 1978. Unfortunately he accidentally died in a fire just when he got his freedom. Xiao Lin was the only one in the jail who was always joyful. He told us that he was riding a bike to his work unit, when he saw two soldiers standing still by the side of the road holding their guns tightly like stone poles, he could not help going close to make sure they were made of flesh or stone. Yes, they were made of flesh. Then he could not help persuading them not to stand there on such a hot day, “Brothers, go home to find a cool place to take a nap." he had said to them. He said that they had refused to be enlightened, and thusly they had brought their "enlightener" to detention. He laughed, "I am grateful to them. I do not have to go to work and they are going to pay me for sitting here chatting with you guys. My job was boring. How much more interesting to stay with you guys! I hope they keep me here forever!” Later I got to know that he had a wife and a sixteen-year old daughter. I would have felt more anxious if I were him. He was really a Taoism follower who still has the mind to scratch his itching back in his own coffin. I really admired him, for I could not enter into that kind of above-the-world state. I could pretend to be calm, but I could not portray contentment. My guts were often twisted because of anxiety.

Xiao Lin was the only one who was called by his real name. He always tried to entertain us. In the night, he often volunteered to tell us stories. "Do you want one with color or no color?" he would ask. "With color" means nasty stories. We would answer "with color.” Then he would tell us stories with color.

His stories impressed me deeply. One was about Richard Nixon visiting China. I heard that story already, but his version was different from what I had heard. His went like the following:

Nixon was coming to visit our country. Chairman Mao said, "We must do our best to impress him!" He held an emergency meeting. He said, "Comrades, what could we do to impress him?" The foreign minister stood up, “I heard that in America everything is automatic. When one finishes passing stool, a smart device, like a hand, extends out to clean one's ass. Nixon will have to do No. 2 in our country. As the president of the United States, he must have forgotten how to wipe his own ass a long time ago! If he cannot wipe his own ass, how can he have the mind to discuss important international issues with us? I have an idea, Chairman Mao. American always think that we are backward, now we have a good opportunity to show them that we are as advanced as they are! We should do something to impress them here --we need to have a better automatic ass wiper!” Chairman Mao said, “I am the chairman, I wipe mine myself. It would be wonderful to have such a toy for our own sakes. Can we make such a toy?” Premier Zhou said, “We need to call in our best scientists and engineers. I am sure we can create it if Chairman Mao wants it.” Immediately, all the top scientists and engineers in the country gathered in Beijing. Premier Zhou went to speak at the gathering. He said, “We called you in to finish a great historical mission: to design an automatic ass wiper. We need it in ten days. As all of you know, in ten days, Richard Nixon, the President of the United States, will come to make a national visit. Chairman Mao is so excited that he can not sleep! He wants to treat Nixon as our most honored guest so we need to make him feel exactly like at home. He has such a thing in the White House; we need to provide him with the same stuff here! We need you to glorify our country by inventing this device in time. Our design must be better than the one Nixon has at home; we need to beat them at this! Can you fulfill the historic mission for our motherland?” He looked around, no one responded. All the scientists and engineers were staring at each other. Finally, the head of Academy of Science stood up, “Premier, we have never seen such a thing. Could you give us a model or give us a specific description of it?” Then the foreign minister gave a description of the toy. The head of Academy of Science turned to the scientists and engineers, “Do any of you have any ideas?” One engineer said, “We can do it, but we can not get it done in ten days.” The Premier said, “Comrades, you can turn out nuclear bombs and satellites, I believe this is a dish of pickle for you! I hand this mission to you, I believe you will use your collective intelligence to fulfill this great mission for Chairman Mao.” All the scientists and engineers dared not breathe loudly; they had never heard of such a design! How could they make it in such a short period of time! If they could not make it, they were in big trouble! The head of the Academy said, “Comrades, we must get it done! As Premier has said, you can make nuclear bombs and satellites, how could you be stumped by such a tiny domestic design! You are now dismissed; give me the proposal tomorrow!”

The next day, a hundred proposals were put forward, but ninety-nine of them were not practical. Only one proposal stood out. The head of Academy of Science had chosen the one, the foreign minister nodded agreement with it, and Premier Zhou was also pleased with it. The following was the design: open a small hole at the back of the toilet, let one man hide there. When Nixon finishes doing his business, the hidden guy puts out his hand with some tissue to clean his ass.

A few days later, they opened a hole in the toilet where Nixon would go to do his business and trained some guards to hide there to get the cleaning job done. The guard had to peek through the hole and whenever they saw Nixon had passed some stool, the guard was to put out his hand and clean it for him. It was surely better than any automatic ass wiper Nixon had in America!

Days later, Nixon arrived. The first night, after drinking lots of Maotai and eating a great deal of tastier Chinese food than he had ever dreamed of, he returned to his room to do No. 2. The guard hiding there cleaned his ass for him. That made Nixon feel really good. He thought, ah, the Chinese have such a wonderful device -— even better than the one I have at home! They must have mastered some high technology we do not have. Wait, why not take a look at it and ask my people to make the same stuff for me! -- Nixon was famous for his keen interest in finding out other’s secrets. He crooked his head, looked down the hole. At that very moment, the guard who had been hiding there for a very long time and almost lost consciousness from the stench of the President's business, could not see clearly. When Nixon crooked his head down, the guard only saw something white and took it for Nixon’s bottom again. Pa! Pa! Pa! He patted the dirty tissue right on Nixon’s mouth.

His stories often made us laugh. I felt I was becoming attached to him. Whenever I had the chance, I would sit close to him. I felt much safer by sticking to him.

One night after an interrogation, Xiao Zhen Tong grasped my hands tightly and said he was done for. He shivered violently. His teeth were clicking with violent trembling. I tried my best to comfort him till he calmed down. The next day, he asked me where I would go if I could get out. I said I would probably go to the south. He said he would follow me to go anywhere if he could get out. He would like to be my assistant or partner. "You are so strong, so powerful, so special. I feel confident and safe with you. Please let me know wherever you go. I will find you and follow you!” I was flattered, but I did not tell him that I had been more scared than he was. He had it totally wrong. After that, I came to think that Xiao Lin might have the same thoughts when I looked up to him for comfort?

 

 

 

 

 

 

4. Escape?

Day and night, the little light on the ceiling shed yellow light upon us. Sometimes I got so agitated; I felt just like hundreds of ropes were tethering me around my chest and my nerves were stretched to be extremely tense. I wanted to yell, to hit the black wall, or to fight with someone! --How long are they going to keep me caged me here? What do they want to do to me? I can not hold on! I can not! My nerves can not be stretched any more; they are all going to be break!-- But I had to calm myself down, just sit there, waiting for the last call, the call for me to pour out all I had on my mind.

One day, the door opened and the guard holding the door yelled, "Cai Zheng, collect your stuff!" As though being electrified, I began trembling. --Is this the call? Are they taking me to another prison?-- All the prisoners looked at me with shocked eyes. Xiao Lin handed me my towel and short pants with a smile. "Hurry up!" the guard yelled again. I was so confused. I rushed out with a few things of mine, totally forgetting to say goodbye to my friends.

The guard led the way out. He said, "You can go home.” I was not so sure of the meaning of "go home". I shivered more violently. My trousers kept falling down. I used one hand to keep them from falling off and the other hand to hold my stuff. My towel dropped on the ground; when I tried to pick it up, my trousers started to fall -- I had no belt. The guards helped me to pick up my stuff. When I was brought to one of the interrogation rooms, I was overjoyed to see Party Secretary. Party Secretary was in his colonel's uniform. I shook hands with him, "Sorry to bring trouble to you.” His brow furrowed, "Do not say that, let's go home.” Go home. I was really going home. The barracks was my home. I would be safe there.

I was asked to sign a release paper. The nice-looking guy who kept the record was smiling at me. He alone had acted like a human being during the interrogation. I put out my hands to shake hands with him; he was not expecting that, but he immediately moved forward to shake my hands. I said, “Thank you!” He just answered with a kind smile. Party Secretary signed the paper and paid the fee for the food –- twelve yuan; one yuan per day.

I followed them out of the compound. The sunlight was sharp. A jeep was waiting for me outside the prison area. Lao Chen, the head of our office, was in the jeep. He had a sorrowful look. The Chief of Military Security was also there. Lao Chen opened the door for me; he asked me to sit in the middle. The jeep started up. I took a last look at the wall of the confinement area -- the walls were made of black bricks, more than ten meters high. By the gate a military soldier stood still, a machine gun across his chest; he seemed to be made of stone.

Lao Chen gave me a cigarette, asked, "Did they beat you?" I said it was OK. He handed me my belt, then bent over to tighten my shoes while I was putting it on. "What caused these?" He looked at my ankles. The deep cut-in scars were like purple shackles. "They used ropes on me, too tight and too long.” He shook his head sorrowfully. He simply told me that they had gotten the information about me the very night I was caught. Immediately the academy urged headquarters to get me out; headquarters had tried very hard to put pressure on the local public security to get me back, but the local public security had refused to release me. The Air Force had to push it through the Ministry of General Staff. "Everything will be OK,” said Lao Chen. I apologized for the trouble I had brought him. He said they should not have allowed me to leave the barracks. He said all of them were relieved when they found out that I was still alive and not injured. Slowly the trembling stopped. I began to talk to Lao Chen. I had so much to say. I talked and talked. I might have lost control of myself; I could not stop talking. Lao Chen interrupted me, "Keep quiet. Let's see what we can do when we get back!" I was stunned by his abrupt change of tone. I had to put the brakes on the talking.

The jeep left the streets of Beijing and drove across the fields of North China. The crops in the fields had just been cut; farmers were burning the sticks. Green smoke rose up everywhere on both sides of the road. The sky at the far end of the fields was glassy blue. Sunlight was pouring peacefully into the newly-cleaned fields. I was moved and calmed by the scene. --I will be dismissed from the army. I am a free man again. The fields are mine. The sunlight is mine; the blue sky is mine. I can walk in the fields from the north to the south, from the east to the west; I can go anywhere I want. I will be the sole owner of the entire world. To be alive is a miracle; to be free is an extra miracle. I do not need any more miracles. Now I have the time to fulfill my oath -- to prove that I have been living in this world. There will be no time for sighing, no time for complaining, no time for being down-hearted; there is only time for enjoying life, for fully utilizing the freedom and every second of my life left to fulfil my mission. I will try to enjoy whatever I can enjoy: the fresh air, the blue sky, the soft wind, and the endless fields. First of all, I will go to a good restaurant to eat a dozen dishes of delicious food to celebrate the freedom I finally have!--

The jeep got closer to the barracks. The tall green maple trees with cool shadows, the red buildings of the barracks and a few soldiers in uniform, all these made me excited. The jeep stopped in front of a building. I was asked to step down. Three soldiers approached the jeep. I was stunned and wanted to cry. I felt a bitter taste in my mouth and weakness in my legs --I am not free!-- When I stepped out the jeep, Deng, the chief, asked me to give him my belt and my shoelaces. I refused to do that. Lao Chen said, "Let's go in first.” I was brought to a room inside the building. I did not say a word. I was overwhelmed with disappointment and sadness. Deng said, "We have to keep you here for a while. Please give me your belt and your shoelaces.” --They are going to treat me as a prisoner again-- I felt my guts wrestling inside. I had thought that freedom was in my arms; they had returned it to me. It had been like receiving a check for big money. I had embraced it tightly and had made so many wonderful plans to use it to reconstruct my life. But before I could cash it, they were snatching it away from me.

Five beds were already set up in the room. One soldier pointed to a bed in the corner, "This is yours.” I did not move to untie my belt and laces. The chief repeated the request. One of the soldiers squatted down to untie my big leather shoes to take out the laces. Lao Chen said, "It will be OK. I will accompany you from now on. Give him your belt."

Deng said, "From now on, stay here. They will take care of everything. You must obey them. I will come to see you soon.” He left with the belt and laces and my freedom. I was surrounded by the soldiers.

Lao Chen asked me to sit down on the bed. He said, "We have to do this. But I guarantee you: we will try our best to protect you. Please do not do anything stupid -- like trying to run away or the like. If you do that, it will make things worse; even though we would want to help you, we could not. You must understand the consequences of trying something like that. I was your boss, but now I'm talking to you as my friend. They have put me in this position, probably because they trust me and know that we have had a good relationship. If you do anything unwise, I am done. I believe you are a person who takes friendship more seriously than anything else. Actually my future is in your hands. Please trust me. Be patient. Everything can have a better end. Please calm down, relax and wait.” Then he introduced the three soldiers to me.

I knew one of the three soldiers, Yang Hua. He had joined the army the same year as I did. He was the leader of the other two. He said, "We need to follow the orders. You must listen to us. You cannot step out of this room except to go to the toilet. If you want to go to the toilet, you must let us know in advance; we will accompany you there. If you need anything, let us know.” The other two just smiled. One was from Yuannan; a small guy with a round face. The other was a tall guy from the Northeast.

Chen said, "I will try to be with you as much as possible. If there is any problem, don't argue with them, talk to me. They had originally intended to use handcuffs and shackles on you; we persuaded them not to do that; that would be too much for you. We trust you. Please understand the difficulty of the situation and do not make any trouble. If you do something irrational, you not only destroy me, but destroy your home fellow Commissar Kang.”

I had to accept their arrangement. Chen was probably right. They were going to protect me. In the army, all the units tried to cover up their wrongdoing because any wrongdoing in their own unit would have a negative impact on the top commander's fate. The tradition was to make the big accidents seem small and to make the small accidents be non-existent. My case was known to those above, they could not contain it, but they might try to clean things up.

A few minutes later, Deng brought me a paper to sign; it was a paper for me to acknowledge that I was "living under observation"; in front of the signature space was the title "The Accused". These words made me nervous. Were they holding me as a criminal? But I had to sign it.

In the afternoon, some of my home fellows came to see me. They were not allowed to enter the room. They knocked at the windows and called to me loudly from outside. Yang Hua tried to drive them away. One of the home fellows yelled at him, "You great fool, don't take a feather of a hen as a commanding arrow! If you do not treat him well, we will make you eat dog’s shit!" Yang Hua said, "OK, please be quick. We are just following orders. We have been ordered to keep him out of contact with others.” There were more than thirty home fellows who had joined the army with me the same year. They worked at different branches in our unit. Wei Bing, a fellow from the village near mine, rebuffed me with a laugh, "Why were you so stupid to support the students! They want to overthrow the government! I was mad at you! Return my money! -- I lent it to you to go home, not to participate in a counter-revolution!” I said, "Shut up.” He shut up and switched to speaking in our local dialect, "What can I do for you?” “Get me some meat.” “OK.” Twenty minutes later, he handed me a package of baked pork through the window. It was more than two pounds. "If you need more, let me know. He Ping will take care of your three meals.” He Ping was a cook in the kitchen we were assigned to dine in. I was so glad to have that piece of delicious meat and I finished it in no time. It made my stomach uncomfortable the whole night.

In the evening, He Ping came to see me. "Counter-revolutionary!" he laughed, "They had planned to keep you in the custody in the Air Force, but all the cells were occupied, so they have to keep you here.” Abruptly he switched to speaking in my local dialect, “They plan to put you in prison for ten years. Watch out! Kang and our academy are struggling with them. Wen Gang has seen the document.” After telling me that, he switched back to speaking the standard language loudly, "You ruined Old Kang's future! You are a black horse! Now you have become the two hundred and twenty-fourth general from our county! -- You have four bodyguards! Only generals have that many guards!"

In the evening, several officers from the security department took me to search my dorm room. When we got there, I found the door was already open, all the papers I had written on were gone; it was a mess. This "clean-up" must have been done by my friends in the department. The security officers asked me to open the drawers -- actually they were already open. They found no "counter-revolutionary" materials except the books of my poems I had mimeographed. They examined the poems. The poems must have looked like riddles to them. They seized them as possible "poison" stuff. I thought it would be great if they would read my poems. They might have even been moved by my poems and released me immediately if they had the authority. They kept a record of what they found. They searched all the books on the shelves, found nothing else. They took me back.

After it got dark, there was a knock on the window. It was Dong Jun, my colleague in the same department. We often got together to discuss the situation in Beijing and we went to Tiananmen on May 17th. He often made fun of the leaders in our department. One day on the front page of the People’s Daily in our meeting room, Li Peng’s eyes had been turned into two burned out holes. The holes on the fattish face made the image looked funny. Dong Jun said, “This is a serious counter-revolutionary event. We must report this to the authority, don't you agree?” All of us applauded, “Yes!” Immediately Dong picked up the newspaper and ran to the party secretary’s office. We followed him. We ran into the secretary in the corridor. Dong stopped him, “I am here to report a serious counter-revolutionary event that happened under our noses: someone burned out our premier’s eyes. Look!” He pointed to the holes with his fingers, “How can we tolerate the counter-revolutionary element damaging our national leader’s image? This is a serious political event! This is the class struggle reflected in our department!” The secretary furrowed his brow, took the newspaper, examined it, and then folded it carefully. “Do not broadcast it. We will make an investigation.” Dong continued to talk emotionally, “This is a crime! We must find the criminal! We must report this to the premier: his eyeballs were burned out by somebody in the Air Force!” He appeared to be so serious. “OK, OK, we got it. Thank you!” Secretary was obviously annoyed. All of us tried to pretend to be serious and hold laugh.

When I got to the window, Dong Jun said in a very low voice, "Do not trust anyone. Do what you think you should do.” He began laughing loudly when the guards came close to the window; then he said something meaningless and left in haste.

Both my home fellows and Dong were hinting to me to run away? Dong was acting as the representative of my friends in the department. They sent him to see me. "Do not trust anyone" means that I should not listen to Chen. They might utilize Chen to tether me here to be killed later. They only cared about their own fate. When we discussed the politics of our department, we always viewed things that way. All the leaders would cut off your hands to repair one of their fingers; they would kill you to save one of their eyes. Since the 80's many of the new recruits, like myself, were college graduates. Most of the leaders in the department had no college degree. There was a gap between them and us. They thought that we, the young graduates from college, lacked discipline. We thought that most of them were not knowledgeable and smart enough to be the leaders. I really wanted to trust Chen, for he himself had often written and published pieces. We had talked politics before and we shared the same opinions although he was a decade older than we were and had no college degree. He was closer to us than to those older guys. However what Dong said made me a little suspicious of Chen and I felt chill in my heart. They might have their own agenda to fulfill. "Do what you have to do.” -- My friends knew that facing the danger of losing my freedom or life, I would manage to escape. They were encouraging me to escape; they were better informed and had a clear idea what was going to happen to me if I stayed here.

In the night, they had put my bed in the inner corner. Three beds surrounded mine. Another bed blocked the door. A guard sat on that bed watching me. Every one had to move the bed first before going out. It was the first time since June the 5th I lay in a real bed and the bed smelt freshly sweet. However I could not sleep.

--If they sentence me to prison for less than three years, that is acceptable. By the time I finish the term I will be 28 years old; I do not care whether what I have done and said deserve the punishment or not. The problem is that I have a bad temper. If I stay in prison too long, I will not be able to control myself; I may get mad and explode at any time. If they put me in prison for three years and I get in a fight with someone, the sentence will be extended, and during the extended sentence, I will fight with more people. Then there will be no time left for me to get out. I probably will have to spend my whole life in prison. If I could control myself, things would be different. However, if they give me a ten-year sentence, then I will be 34; half of my life will be gone; no way, I will run away from any prison. No prison can hold me if I want to run away. Should I wait here to be sentenced and then run away from the prison or should I run away right now? There is a train station just one mile from me. There will surely be some moment when the guard will fall asleep. I can sneak out of the barracks in about 30 seconds -- the wall surrounding the barracks is two hundred meters away from where I am being held. The wall is about three meters high; I can throw myself up and over to the other side with one jump -- I have often done that before. It takes me about 15 minutes to get to the train station. Every half an hour there is a train passing by. I can take any train. The best will be a train heading to the north. If they find out that I am gone, it will take them at least half an hour to confirm that I have run away. By the time I will have reached the train station. They will sound the emergency signal and it will take five minutes to half an hour to distribute soldiers to the station to stop me. Because of the anti-army emotions prevalent, the station is not likely to cooperate by stopping a scheduled train to search for a "military criminal". Once I get on the train, I can get off at a small station and go to hide in a rural area, wait a period of time, then go to take the train to the south. At the very time I escape, they will think that I will head south. They will focus their attention on the trains heading south. The chances of being caught will be very small. But from the moment I run away, I will be living with an endless sense of danger and insecurity. I will lose contact with my family. They will think that I have been killed. Chen will be punished -- no upward movement for him in the army. He will forgive me -- my freedom of ten years weighs more than a little raise in his salary. I can go to live in the mountainous areas for years to wait for change; that means I will be incarcerating myself. Or if I am lucky, I can make it to Hong Kong by swimming. I can swim at least two miles. The biggest problem is the coldness of water and the presence of the naval police and the border guards. Or I can cross the border to Russia or India or another south Asian country. I have the physical capability to overcome all the possible difficulties. But who knows what will happen? Maybe the best strategy is to wait and hope for the best? “Action is not as good as no action.” The insecurity of being a fugitive in a hostile world for years will be too big a price for having done nothing really wrong--

The next day, they brought me a dozen pieces of paper and asked me to write down what I had done during the period of time I had been questioned about. At the top of the paper was printed "The Confession of the Accused". I got mad: how could they take me for a criminal? At that time, I refused to write anything on that paper. --They are asking for my "confession"! Do they really take me for a criminal?-- Chen comforted me saying the Office of Security had no other paper, this was just a form. Immediately my friends' words came back to my mind. I became suspicious of him; they were trapping me. However, I had nothing to do. All I had was a pen and some paper and I had such a strong desire to write something -- for never had I not been able to write anything for such a long period of time. The paper and the pen were a temptation to me. I really enjoyed writing. Finally I sat down to write what I had experienced. For about eight hours, just taking a few minutes' break for lunch, I kept on writing. I finished forty pages; the "confession" had grown to the length of more than 20,000 words. I could not help myself; I just wanted to describe what I had experienced. During the process of writing, sometimes I became so emotional and felt the anger and the sorrow. Sometimes tears flowed from my eyes. I hoped those who read it would experience that kind of feeling and fully understand why I said that or did that. When I finished it, I was relieved, though a little regretful that I could not describe what I had experienced in greater detail. I prepared to make it more detailed the next day.

In the evening, Lao Chen came. I showed him my confession. He took a look at it, then he told my guards to go to watch TV. The soldiers, pleased to get some freedom, left promptly. When they were gone, Chen shook his head, "You are so naïve, Cai Zheng. This is not writing a poem or a story. This is a 'confession'. They are going to use this against you. This is the proof of whether you are innocent or guilty. Nobody really knows what you have done or said. It is upon you to tell them. --Make it as simple as possible! Spend more time on self-criticism. Avoid any detail that could bring you into trouble. This will be the key document to decide your destiny! Be serious and cautious! Rewrite it, do not let anyone read it before I check it!” I was a little upset that he did not appreciate my writing. I was honest and straight-forward in writing what I had experienced. I thought that they already knew all I had done -- I had confessed some in the jail. I asked, "If they already know what I have done, and they think that I am not honest, then ……?” He said, "Use your brain. Be cautious about every single word you write.” He snatched the papers I had written on, tore them into pieces and took the pieces to the toilet. He took me there. He lit the paper and burned all of them. It produced a lot of smoke.

I rewrote the confession the next day. I used big characters; it totaled 8 pages; it was slightly less than 2,000 words. At least half of the content was self-criticism. In the evening I handed it to Chen; he crossed out some lines, asked me to rewrite it. The next day I sat there rewriting it. In the end, it had become a flat, empty "confession". There was nothing substantial that related to my wrongdoing or wrong saying. After reading it, Chen told me to turn it over to Deng when he came for it.

The day after I turned in my confession, I was brought to the office of Military Security. I saw two new guys besides all the other security officers in our academy. Deng welcomed me with a kind smile. I sensed some understanding in him. Wang, the vice-chief, was very serious; he seemed to really believe that I was guilty and should be punished. Min, a new graduate from a military academy, sat down to take notes. When I faced him, he winked at me with a grin that only I could see. That little facial performance of his told me that he thought the whole interrogation was a farce.

Deng pointed to one guy, “This is Staff Officer Gu, he is from the Bureau of Military Security of the Headquarters.” I immediately walked toward Gu, put out my hands to shake his. He did not give me his hands. I put down my hands and said, “I am really sorry to bring trouble to all of you. Please forgive me.” Deng smiled, showed his appreciation for my etiquette. He seemed a little afraid of that guy even though he was a major and Staff Officer Gu was only a first lieutenant. Then he introduced the other guy to me. I tried to shake hands with that guy, but he did not stand up. Deng said, “They've got orders to investigate your case. Now, tell us what you have done. You have confessed most of what you have done. We just want to confirm. Truth is truth. Understand?” I said, “Understand.” He asked me to sit down.

Gu asked, “Did you smash the car windows in front of Beijing University?” I was shocked, “No, never. I only saw someone smashing car windows there.” “What? You want to deny it?” He raised his voice, “You admitted in the custody that you broke the glass of a car window. How dare you deny it here!”

I got angry. I thought he was trying to trap me into admitting something I did not do. I could not help raising my voice too, “I did not do that, how could I say that? I am telling the truth and deny nothing!” “Do you want us to take some measures to get you to admit to the crime? You want to change your confession?” “What confession?” “What confession! In the custody, you said you smashed the windows of a car!” “I did not!” I was fidgety and I raised my voice another step. He struck his fist on the desk, “Do we need to take you to the headquarters to get you tell the truth? All of us have read your confession.” I was scared: if they took me out of my unit, they could do anything to force me to confess. I looked around. Deng was uneasy; he was trying to comfort the guy more than he was trying to persuade me, “Do not deny it, if you did it, admit it. You have admitted that in the confession.” “No, I never did that and I have never said that I did that!” “Show him his confession.” ordered the guy. They showed me the confession with my signature on. I read it and could not help yelling out, “What? How could he write this? How could he? I thought that guy was a nice guy! No, no, this is a mistake!” “What mistake? You read it, you signed it. You want to deny it now? I find you are not an honest guy! -- Isn't that your signature?” said Gu. Deng was looking at me, he seemed to beg me to give a good explanation; then he looked at the guy and seemed to beg him not to get mad. I was mad, “Yes, it is my signature, but I really did not read it before I signed it. I just scanned a few lines. It was too late; I was exhausted and thought he would not have made any mistakes. How could he …” I came to realized that at the time I was trying to please the recorder by not doubting his record. Gu said, “Read this, ‘I used the big wood board I had to break the car window.’” I was furious. All of them were staring at me. Deng seemed to expect me to say something smart to cleanse myself and cleanse him.

I was sweating hard. Breaking car windows would put me into real trouble, -- the punishment for those who “beat, destroy and plunder” was very harsh. How could I clean myself up? I tried to calm down. I sat there silently for a while, then I said calmly, “OK. It is quite simple to clear this up: go to ask the people who questioned me. If the recorder wrote this, ask the others present at the time whether I said this. Even if all of them say I said this, you can go to Beijing University. Many students were there. Go to ask any one of them whether a car window was broken with a wood board that time. I saw someone threw rocks at the car and other students stop them. Please pardon me for my rudeness. I am telling the truth. Please understand me —- I was mad because others were saying I did something that I actually did not do. If I am telling a lie, you can give me whatever punishment you want.” “Are you telling the truth?” Deng asked me as he eyed Gu -— he seemed to be expecting an answer that would please that guy. Mr. Gu began to pace back and forth. I tried to put on a smile, “I swear I am telling the truth. You will find it out. The fact is that nobody broke a car window using a wood board. It is so simple a fact -- that day only I had a wood board. And this statement said I broke the car window with a wood board.” “Did you break the car with rocks?” asked Gu. “No, it was impossible; I was holding the wood board. I had no extra hands for that and I never even got close to the car. Too many people were around it.” Finally the guy cooled down, “OK, we will investigate and decide whether you are telling lies. If you are lying, you know the consequences.” I said that they could kill me if I did that. Hearing this, Deng seemed a little relieved.

Next they asked about the pamphlets I had put in Commissar Kang’s mailbox. “Why did you do that?” The guy was a little emotional. He must have been a little frustrated for not having been able to force me to enter the trap in the surroundings of a majority that was not hostile enough to force a confession out of me. He seemed defeated by me. His tone was fierce. I did not respond immediately. -- Never answer them immediately. What is the purpose of the question? What do they want to get from me? What answer of mine would satisfy them and save myself or make the “crime” of mine a little lighter?

“Answer!” He raised his voice.

“I really forget the reason.”

“You are like a fox!” He grinned, turning to Deng, “He wants to fool us, let’s take him to the headquarters to interrogate him there.” Deng got nervous. Looking at me, in haste he said, “You said that you wanted Commissar to listen to another voice …” -- He is trying to remind me to give the right answer! If that was the purpose, then I was not aimed at fanning the emotion against the government, not for a “counter-revolutionary” cause. I captured the point and responded immediately, “Yes, now I recall it. That very day, I heard that Commissar Kang had given a speech about the situation in Beijing. I thought he did not know the real situation. He had only heard one kind of voice. I happened to receive two pamphlets. I thought it might be interesting to let him know another voice. That’s all.”

“So you mean your only purpose was to let him listen to another voice?” asked Deng. -- He is reminding me again. “Yes, that’s my only purpose, and I thought it might be fun. I did not realize that it was something seriously wrong. If I had known that, I would not have done it. I feel so sorry about that.”

They asked some other questions, but obviously they had lost interest in questioning me. Then they called in the guards to take me back.

Day and night the idea in my brain about whether to run away or to stay was battling so fiercely that I felt the anxiety would make me insane. Every night the soldier watching me sat on the bed. Sometimes he fell asleep. If I wanted to get out, the bed had to be moved. To go out by breaking the windows was impossible. The windows were blocked by steel bars. To break the steel bars would definitely wake them. The best time would be when the soldier on guard accompanied me to the toilet during the night. The toilet was at the end of the building. The building was locked from the inside and the outside. I could get out of the building from the windows of the toilet, but I must knock the soldier unconscious without making any noise. Getting close to him, a sudden side strike on the head, near the temple, or on the upper side of their neck would do it. To knock a guard unconscious would be a real crime. If I accidentally killed him or permanently damaged his brain, I would feel guilty for my whole life even if I succeeded in regaining my freedom. My freedom was not worth more than a soldier's health or life. The guards were not my enemies; they were just poor soldiers. I could not guarantee that he would not get seriously hurt if I hit him on the head. To strike them on their heads was the only way to make them unconscious. …… No, it was too dangerous for them and for me. I must wait, wait till they relaxed their alertness. I would try to give them the impression that I had no any intention of running away. At the same time, I must prepare to fight to acquit myself.

-- If they want to put me into prison for ten years, they must find some excuses. From now on, I am not going to admit to any more wrongdoing. They will try to find "criminal behavior" of mine based on what they knew. Dropping pamphlets in Commissar Kang's mailbox can not be used as a proof of crime. -- They can only use the charge of being a "counter-revolutionary" to sentence me. However, "counter-revolutionary" is based on the intention of the accused. If one does not intend to overthrow the government, the communist, or the socialist system, he can not be labeled as “counter-revolutionary”. The pamphlets were strongly urging the army not to enter the city (via a letter in the name of some retired generals) and not to kill the people; they implored the army not to become the criminals in Chinese history. I had told them that I only intended to “let Commissar Kang listen to another voice”. They had bought my statement. Commissar Kang had executed his authority to stop any more digging into that. The other matter that they can use to sentence me is to use the bike I was riding when I was caught. They may say that I "robbed" or "stole" in a special time at a special spot; what's more, I was a soldier. I had asked Chen to bring me a book of law. I checked the definition of "steal" and “rob”. "Steal" is "to secretly use illegal means to snatch others' property to own it illegally"; "Rob” is "to use violence to snatch others’ property in the presence of the owner of the property". If they want to put me in prison, they have to put on a trial show. They may schedule a "public trial" in an auditorium, so that hundreds of soldiers can be taught a lesson of law. If they want to put me in jail, they will find reasons. Of course, they are going to assign me a military "lawyer", who is more likely to take proving that I deserve the punishment as his first priority. But I can be my own lawyer. Whether they listen or not, I will defend myself. I must not be afraid of going against them if I am brought to the court. I will say that first of all, I did not rob anyone -- the owner of the bike was not there. Secondly, I did not own the bike. I just used it and I planned to leave it at the train station (they would say I used it and therefore in fact I owned it). Lastly, the bicycle was almost worthless. Please bring the bike here. (They can not bring it here: no one kept it. It surely has been thrown away as garbage – they have no material evidence.) You will see that it was garbage. It was all broken. It was waiting to be taken away by the street cleaners. It was nobody's property. If it was garbage, everyone had the right to make use of it. The last reason would allow me to stand straight in front of the executors and would give them no excuse to dig deeper into the bike issue.

As time passed by, I was allowed to take walks around the building. The guards would follow me. After three months, they just sat in the room watching me through the windows while I walked around the building. I often asked Yang to buy food for me and let him have half of it. I got more and more freedom. Later I even could go out to take a walk in the apple garden in front of the Teaching Building without any of them following me. The opportune time had come for me to run away, but I hesitated to do that. My home fellows got the latest information: they were going to send me to the labor camp for three years. They originally planned to take me to court; later they changed their mind. Three years of labor reform was the most serious punishment they could give to one without a trial.

One day in the winter, Dong came to me with a very grave look, "Do you know what happened in Romania? The army revolted! Now the government is going to be very harsh at the army men involved in this.” No guards were around me. I asked, "Should I run away?” He looked around and said gravely, "Decide for yourself -- as quickly as possible.” Hurriedly, he ran away. That very day, the beds were moved to surround me again. I could not go to the toilet alone. Two of them followed me when I was taking a walk around the building. The whole atmosphere had suddenly changed. I was more than frightened this time. It was heard that in Romania the army had participated in the uprising. They overthrew the Communist party and the government; they killed the president. That incident made our government nervous. They would kill a chick to scare the monkeys. I would be the chick. They could use the wartime law to sentence me to death and execute me immediately. If a piece of paper from the higher-ups was passed to our army unit saying, "Execute Cai Zheng on the spot immediately", I would be a dead man. Distributing "counter-revolutionary pamphlets” could be said to be fanning rebellious feelings and creating chaos in the army; speaking to the soldiers in Beijing could be labeled as spreading counter-revolutionary propaganda …… any action of mine would be more than enough to get me the death penalty according to some special military law. They needed some to serve as examples; they needed to prevent the collapse of the big machine. A few lives were nothing bigger than a mosquito or a fly. …… It was totally useless to read the law. The only way was to run out of the cage -- but I had missed the opportunity! Nobody could save me, not Chen, not Kang, nobody! When I would be taken to be shot, passing in front of them, nobody would stand out to yell at them, "No, he is innocent! You can not do that to him!" None would risk their future futilely to try to do something impossible. They would only look at me with pity, anger and fear. I would be put into a tank, taken directly to meet my death. My God! I began to feel regret that I hadn't used the time I'd had to run away. I could have run out of the cage a long time ago!

That very day, Chen came very late. His face was iron-cold. His appearance scared me. I thought I was done for. He did not say anything to comfort me and went to bed alone. He might not have known what to say to comfort me.

--I must run away before they take me to the Jail at the Headquarters – if they want to kill me, they will put me in a real jail. It will be impossible for me to run away from a real jail. -- I began to hate Chen for using the trust I had put in him to hold me here and when the really bad times came he wouldn't be able to do anything to help me. I hated myself for my hesitation to take the risk. My friends had done what they could. They had given me the information in the hope that I would make the wise decision to run away before I was locked in the Dead Man's cell. -– Now I have to wait for another opportunity. -- If that opportunity arrives, even if they say I am going to be set free the next day, still I will not wait till the next day but run away immediately!

The next morning I peered outside. I began to tremble violently. I saw a tank come to a stop by the building. Soldiers fully armed with guns, helmets and boots stepped down from the tank and walked toward the gate of the building. It all turned dark. My whole body turned stiff. I could not move. I hoped that the floor would split and a crack open so that I could hide myself in it before they got close to me. I was paralyzed. I just sat there, closed my eyes and waited. A while later, nobody had entered my room. Stealthily I opened my eyes and collected all my courage to take another look at the tank. Strangely the tank had become a jeep. The army men standing by it had no guns or helmets; they turned out to be some officers who lived in the same building! In a while the jeep went away. I felt like I'd just been run over by a tank. All my body turned to mud.

The very morning, I sat down by the desk to comb my hair with my fingers. I was surprised to see so much hair clinging to my fingers. I combed again; more of my hair was coming out. Oh, so much of my hair lost in one night! It would all fall out within a few days!

As time went on, the watching of me gradually became relaxed again. I got more opportunities to run away. But when the opportunity for running away arrived, the pressure was also lessened. I forgot my decision about running way; I stayed. There was always a slim hope that things would be better than they looked; there was always hesitation to take risks when the consequences were not clear. I cursed myself for my weakness. If I were going to be shot to death, it would be my own weakness of character that let it happen.

 

5. My Guards

 

Day and night three guards accompanied me. On the second day when I was back at the barracks, the tall guy from the Northeast said he did not believe that I knew martial arts and that they really needed three soldiers to control me. I said, "Even three of you wouldn't be enough if I wanted to beat you.” He said, “Don’t brag. I alone am enough to take care of you.” “OK, let me show you something.” I went to stand in the center of the room, “Come to throw me over onto the floor.” He said that would hurt me. I said, “OK, try to see whether you can pin me from the back.” He eyed Chen; Chen was smiling. He said, “You don't think I could pin you? I am the number one in wrestling in our company. That’s why they put me here.” He horse-stepped over to pin my waist from behind. I said, “Are you ready?” “Ready!” “By the time I come to count three, you will be on the floor under me.” “Don’t brag. Count!” I used my hands to pin his hands, “One, two, three!” Abruptly I crooked my head, made a sudden forward downturn. Tong! He was thrown up and over and spread on the ground in front of me. I jumped up and sat on his chest, pinning his throat with my fingers. He lay there; his face flushed. Chen and the other guards laughed themselves to tears. I pulled him to stand up. “Are you OK.” “OK.” He avoided eye contact with me, but murmured, “Really, they were right.” The very next week, he quit being my guard.

The Yunnan guy had a naughty smile hung on his face all day long. We called him Xiao Bai (little white). He was a first-year soldier; thus most of the time it was he who followed me out. In the summer, he often squatted in front of the house watching me and listening to a pocket radio. His radio gave out the sound of cats’ screams. The second day when I was back, I heard from his radio that the Beijing Intermediate Court had sentenced to death a group of dangerous enemies who had killed soldiers and burned buses. They were executed immediately. I heard one of the names: Wang Lian Ju. It gave me a shivering coldness. Later, Xiao Bai brought me a few pieces of an old Beijing Evening newspaper. I happened to see Zhang Jun on one piece of the paper. He was held by several policemen. I could recognize him only by his hair. The illustration at the bottom said, "The people's police just caught a beat-destroy-rob criminal and took him into custody". The photo was taken in the corridor of the custody. By that time Zhang Jun was taken out of the cell. Zhang Jun must have been chosen to represent the "counter-revolutionaries.” His image fit the stereotype of a bad guy in the people's imaginations.

Sometimes Xiao Bai would teach us his local dance. His steps were very nimble. He clicked his fingers, sang the rhythm, tick-tock, tick-tock. His feet moved very agilely on the wood floor. The dance appeared womanish and professional. It seemed so easy, but it was very hard to learn. He taught us many times; still we could not follow the rhythm.

Yang Hua was the head of the soldiers. He literally took a feather of a hen as a sword of authority. He had a narrow purple face dotted with black and red spots; that made his face look like it was all spattered with sparrow’s excrement. His lips were dark. His eyes were muddy. The whites of his eyes were not white, but bluish; the pupils not black, but gray. To get more freedom, I had to offer him the good food I got from different sources. Every time as soon as he finished the food, he would issue an order, “Xiao Bai, take him out to have some air.” I had been very cautious in dealing with him. It was he who decided whether I would be comfortable or not. Everyone has his own power; a person can wield it wisely or abuse it. The smart way to enjoy a little more freedom was to have a cozy relationship with him.

I had mainly two ways to get good food: either to buy it out of my own pocket or to get it from my home fellows’ kitchens. However, I only got my stipend once a month. As time went on, most of my home fellows who were cooks had left the barracks for home. I couldn't even find anyone to borrow money from. I had no more good food for him. Then his attitude toward me began to change. The good thing was that those who knew me would occasionally bring me some good food.

One day there was a knock on the window. I went to the window and saw two students of mine sitting on a bike leaning against the wall. They were in the English class I had opened for the local kids last summer. One of them got out of a bottle of wine from under his shirt. “Can you have it, Mr. Cai? We bought it for you.” I asked, “How did you get the money to buy this? Take it back!” He went flush. He just put the bottle on the platform of the window and started pedaling away on the bike, “Take care, Mr. Cai!” They disappeared. They must have planned this for a long time -- how to get the money, what wine to buy, and how to approach me. I was moved. I could not even remember their names. I was even more pleased because now I could use the wine to bribe Yang one more time. I finished the wine with Yang Hua. He cheered up once again, “Good wine. Ask them to bring you some more.”

I did not say anything. I knew that there would be a problem if I could not offer him good food relatively frequently. What else could I do? I could only try to be more humble to please him. However this guy was a materialist. One ton of my humbleness did not match the influence of one ounce of baked pork. If I did not provide him with any good food for a period of time, when I asked to go out to take a walk, he would scold me: “Have you eaten too much? You're like a pig, you eat so much! Eat less! Then you will not need a walk!” In response, I put on an awkward smile.

Oldest Brother had told me that when you dislike someone who controls your destiny, you must pretend to like him; even if you hate him so much that you want to kill him, still you should try to please him by offering him what he likes. An emperor’s cook cooked his baby son to please the emperor when he found that eating baby was the evil emperor’s greatest enjoyment. Oldest Brother continued by saying that stupid guys who have power can be easily conquered by the people to satisfy their hunger for something. It appeared to me that this guy could not be moved by anything other than good food. Whenever he saw good food, his eyes lit up. As time went on, I could not hide my disgust and contempt toward him. I found it hard to follow Oldest Brother’s teachings. What I did was exactly the opposite. The next time I got some money, I asked Xiao Bai to buy some good food for me. I invited Xiao Bai and another guy to share it with me, but not Yang Hua. Xiao Bai and the other guy seemed to have no real interest in the food. They took it for granted that sharing my food was Yang Hua’s special right; at most they just tried a little bit. Then I enjoyed it right in front of him alone. No rule required me to give half of my food to him. Let him swallow his mouth water and eat the sweet smell of the delicious food. When I could not finish it, I wrapped it in old newspapers and threw it in the garbage basket. Not even any leftovers for him.

That made things worse. It was up to them to bring me my meals. One time, when the food was brought to me, it was a little cold. I put the food on the heating pipes to warm it up. Accidentally the chopsticks fell into the crevice of the pipes. Seeing this, he jumped up and shouted, “Fuck you! You are so stupid! You do not even know how to hold onto your chopsticks! Get them out!” His face turned purple, his voice hoarse. I looked at him, but did not move. “What are you waiting for! You stupid! Get them out! Fuck you ……” He continued to bark like a dog. The black blood vessels on his neck popped out. His pig-liver colored lips turned dark. He stamped his feet heavily on the floor while he was yelling. His spittle splashed all around, some landed on my face. I brushed it off with my hand. I could not help staring at him. --What’s wrong with this animal? It is nothing but a pair of chopsticks falling into the crevice of the heating pipes! Is he insane? He must think that he is really somebody that controls my destiny and I am a slave of his. I wanted to smash his ugly face. But I just put on a smile, said calmly, “It is just chopsticks. Why are you so excited?” “Fuck your mother!” he clenched his teeth, “Hurry up! Get them out! Don’t waste time!” I tried to control myself. I had to. Chen had told me that I could tell him everything, but I’d better keep things to myself. Nobody likes to be bothered. What’s more, it was good training -- you must train yourself to get used to these kinds of nasty guys, or you will end up a dead man. I calmly retrieved the chopsticks, saying nothing. He kept cursing me. Xiao Bai and the other guy stepped in to persuade him to cool down.

Occasionally I would go out to take a walk with Xiao Bai without getting his approval first when he was not there. When he came back, he would scold Xiao Bai, “Fuck you, did you have my approval to let him out?” Xiao Bai would only smile, “He asked me to let him to take a walk.” He yelled, “What is he? A general? He listens to you or you listen to him? Remember: he listens to you and you listen to me!” Xiao Bai winked one eye towards me, put his hands in his pockets, “OK, OK, he listens to me and I listen to you.” Then he went to sit on the bed and put the radio close to his ear. The nasty guy turned to me, “Fuck you! When I am not here, you had better behave yourself!” His dark, sparrow-excrement-spattered face was distorted. His voice was unbearably ear-piercing, like the sound given out when two pieces of rusted iron were rubbed against each other.

Sometimes, when he was cursing me, something explosive was ignited in my brain. If I did not suppress it, my brain would explode and I would throw myself at him and fasten my two hands on his throat like the claws of a tiger. His tongue would extend out and eyes turn white in a few seconds. I kept watering down the fire. -- It does not worth it; this is a stupid animal; take it easy; just continue as though I have not heard what he said; let him enjoy himself, cursing or yelling; to be deaf is the best strategy; stomach it; stand it; REN (bearing) is to let others pierce a knife into your heart and leave it there. One who can bear this is one who really has the power. Just take it as you took it in the street in Beijing. What is the real harm to me if I do not take his curses to heart? ……

One morning when I was combing my hair with my fingers, some hair fell on the floor. He yelled, “Do not let your pig’s hair fall on the floor! Clean it up!” I got the broom to clean it up. He shouted at me again, “Fuck your mother, here, here, look! A piece of paper, can't you clean the floor?” I put on a smile and went over to sweep the rest of the floor. Abruptly he grasped the broom from me, pushed me aside, “Fuck you! Stand aside! You make me sick!” I wanted to say: “You make me sicker.” But I just put on a silly smile. The very morning, when I finished the breakfast they had brought to me, I still felt hungry. I asked Xiao Bai to get me one more dish. Hearing this, he distorted his face, “Fuck your cow mother, you eat so much! Twice as much as I do. Eat so much for what? -- The dining hall has been closed! No more!” I knew the dining hall was still open, there was always enough food. Even there was no food, he knew Ping would manage to get some for me. Seeing Xiao Bai was going out, he scolded him fiercely, “Where are you going?” “To get some more for him. Otherwise, Lao Chen will blame us.” He roared, “Do you listen to me or whom?” Xiao Bai made a small turn with the heel of his shoes on the floor, and gave an evil smile my way. I did not want to bring trouble to him, “OK, bring me some more for the next meal.” The insane guy continued to yell, “I don’t know how much you have consumed the state! Like a pig! You eat so much for growing more meat to be sold in the market?” When he was speaking, his whole face was twisted. I just wanted to give him a punch to smash him in the mouth and see his teeth and blood splash out.

While I tried to control myself and ignore him, his abuse became more and more violent. Lao Chen sometimes asked me how they were treating me, I had to say that they were treating me well. I had thought about telling him that this guy was a little insane and asking him to replace the nasty guy with someone normal, but I did not speak out. They did not want any trouble from me, and I’d better not to scratch their heels too often. I could tolerate it. I must tolerate it. Might this be part of their arrangement to train me to be tolerant? If I mentioned this to him, he might persuade me not to be so intolerant; at the same time, he would talk to the insane guy, ask him to be nice to me. In turn, that guy would be meaner to me. -- You must know what you really are and do not cross the line. Just stand above that nasty guy, stand above the roof, look down from the sky, and examine him as examining a tiny bug. Smile. This is life. Take everything with a smile. This is the Kongfu that I must acquire.

One night, I lay on my bed trying to sleep. My guards were playing cards. I could not sleep. It was twelve o’clock. I said, “I want to sleep. Please stop playing.” None of them responded. After a while I said again, “Please stop playing. It is time to sleep. This is the second time I've asked you to stop. I don’t want to have to ask another time.” Nobody listened to me, they were still shouting, yelling, pounding and hitting the desk. Blood was smashing against the walls and sparks were shooting at all directions in my brain. After another ten minutes, I raised my voice and issued an order, “Stop playing! I want to sleep!” This time, the ugly guy gave out some air from his nose, “Fuck your mother! Are you our watcher or we are yours? When we go to sleep is none of your business. Fuck your mother!”

Pong! Something exploded in my brain; sparks splashed all around. If I could stand this I could stand death! I jumped up from my bed, grasped a chair, roaring, “Go to hell!” Bang –- I jumped at him and threw the chair at his head. He was sitting on the bed by the window, the mosquito netting partially blocked the chair, still the chair got him. I raised the chair again aiming at his head, “Your father will send you son of a bitch to hell!” The other two immediately stood up and tried to grasp the chair. The ugly guy crooked his head and used his two hands to protect his head. The other two seized the chair; he ran away from me, screaming, “Counter-revolutionary is killing!” I threw down the chair, picked up a big steel stick in the corner of the room and ran after him. I wanted to smash his head, make him twist on the floor. The other two tried to stop me. He grasped a chair, ran to the end of the room, stood on the bed, shouting, “Counter-revolutionary! Counter-revolutionary!” I rushed forward, lashed the stick at his head. He raised the chair above his head. The chair broke apart and he was almost knocked to the ground. I waved the stick, the other two soldiers were screaming: “Cai Zheng! Stop! Stop!” -- No stop! I will only stop when he is dead! When his dirty mouth no longer utters any sound!

He yelled “Counter-revolutionary! Counter-revolutionary!” and ran out of the room. I ran after him, the other two ran after me. “Help! Help! Counter-revolutionary is killing me!” he screamed in the corridor. I roared, “You son of a bitch must die tonight!” He had no place to go, the two ends of the corridor were locked, and the gate in the middle was also locked. He ran into the TV room. I followed him, waving the stick, “Prepare to die! Son of a bitch!” He jumped onto the ping pong table. I swung at the foot of the table with the stick, the ping pong table collapsed. He fell off, climbed up and tried to hide behind the big TV cabinet. I lashed the stick at his head, but I hit the cabinet, smashing the top of it. He ran out of the TV room through the other door. I followed him. Now many people put their heads out of their rooms. He ran back to our room and kept shouting, “Counter-revolutionary! Murderer! You are going to be shot to death! Your days are numbered!” I shouted, “First let your father put you to death!” An officer rushed in and yelled, “Stop! Cai Zheng!” I stopped for a while. “What’s going on?” “The counter-revolutionary wants to kill me!” he stood close to the side of the officer. The label “counter-revolutionary” just poured gas onto the fire. Hearing that, I jumped up and threw my stick at him again. The officer shouted, “Stop! What are you doing?” –- I am cleaning the stinky bug off the earth! I would not stop even though the Minister of Defense is ordering me to! He ran to hide behind the officer. The other soldier, his home fellow, came to grab my elbow, “You have gone too far! Do you want us to jointly beat you?” I seized his arm tightly and said coldly, “Do you think all of you are my match?” He must have been scared by my powerful grasp. Hearing this, he stood silently aside. I turned to the ugly guy again, “If you say ‘counter-revolutionary’ again, I will smash your head!” He yelled, “Counter-revolutionary! Down with counter-revolutionary!” and stuck himself to the back of the officer. My stick could not get him. The officer said, “This is out of control! Put down your stick!” Now the stick was useless, I threw it away and ran toward him. “Your father would strangle you to death! Son of a bitch, you do not know who your father is!” The officer extended his two hands to prevent me from getting to him, but he could not stop me. The ugly guy ran out of the room again. This time he ran to the end of the corridor. More and more people were standing in the corridor, complaining. The officer came out and shouted to the ugly guy, “Don’t say ‘counter-revolutionary’!” The guy stopped yelling. Then I stopped by the door.

The officer asked what was going on. The guy stealthily moved back, standing far away from me, one hand on his head. “I will call the chief! We will put shackles on you! Wait! You will be in a small solitary cell!” I went back and sat on my bed. My anger was partially burned out. I felt a little bit relieved.

The other two guards explained what was going on. After that, Xiao Bai said he would go to look for Chen. He said to me, smiling, “You have too bad a temper! You were like a crazy bull, nobody could stop you!” The officer said, “OK, go to sleep. Be quiet. Solve it tomorrow.” But the nasty guy cried, “No, I must call the chief! We could not control him. We need more soldiers with guns! He needs shackles and handcuffs! The chief told me to call him whenever there is an emergency! I need to go to the hospital! He broke my head. I can not feel half of my head!” He said to me in a malignant tone, “When we put you in shackles, we will beat you as we like!”

I said, “You are welcome to, but don’t disturb my sleep now.” I pulled down the mosquito net and lied down. He kept shouting, crying and cursing, but no more “counter-revolutionary” came out of his mouth. He was arguing with the other two. They begged him to wait till Chen came back. He said he must go to wake up the chief right now. He needed to go to emergency room and get a full examination of his wounds so he could keep the examination results for the criminal record. No, he could not stand this. He jumped up and down, cried and shouted.

After a while, I came back to my senses. I tried to control my breath to quiet down. I could not. I was scared by what I had done. -- How did this happen? All of them are witnesses to my criminal behavior. Now they have enough reason to put me in shackles. How miserable I will be! If he's really hurt, I will be in serious trouble. He deserves a lesson, but the lesson should not have been taught by me. If he reports this to the chief, the chief will report to Kang, Kang will be mad at me ……

I hoped Lao Chen would come immediately; only he could manage this nasty guy and persuade him not to wake up the chief.

Chen finally came. His face was stiff. I opened the mosquitoes netting and sat up immediately. He scolded me first, “Who do you think you are? You are a criminal! Do you want more years added to your sentence? -- Beating your convoy! How dare you? What gives you the boldness?” The insane guy became quiet and polite. He kept on saying, “Lao Chen, I am sorry that I have to report this to the chief. We could not control him. I need to go to the emergency room. My brain is damaged, really. My head feels like wood.” I said, “Sorry to bring trouble to you, Lao Chen, it is my fault.” He raised his voice, “Of course it is your fault! No matter what happened, apologize to him!” Immediately I turned to the guy, “Sorry, I was out of my mind. You should have known my temper! I do not know how it happened. You know …” He cut me off, “It is too late and useless! I am going to call the chief. We can not control you. You broke my fingers. I am going to the hospital for emergency treatment. I will let the whole world know about this! You need to wear shackles to taste something bitter. We have been too nice to you …” Chen said to him, “Let me take a look, where did you get hurt?” The guy lowered his head, then pulled his trouser legs up to let Chen examine his legs and feet. Suddenly he burst into tears. He cried loudly, “Since I was born, nobody has ever beaten me so harshly! Never! This is the first time I've ever been beaten so brutally! My fingers are broken, my foot is broken. …… I will not let you off! For beating me like this you will be put in jail for ten years! Uh … uh…” Chen raised his voice another step, scolding me in an angry tone, “How dared you? How dared you beat him so heavily? Do you really want to be in shackles? To be in a small cell? We did not apply that to you because we thought you were civil! How dared you, en? Wait for me, I will come back to you. …” He turned to that crying baby, “I am really sorry. Let’s talk outside.” He asked the other two guys to keep a close eye on me, then put his hand on that guy’s shoulder, led him out.

I was so anxious to know what the guy’s final decision was. I hoped Chen could persuade him to change his mind, so that he did not wake up the chief. If I really broke his fingers or damaged his brain, I would be put into prison for years just for that. That would be the first real crime I had committed. I tried to talk to the two guys to make myself feel a little easier. Xiao Bai said, “He has gone a little too far sometimes, but you really should not have beaten him like that. You could have killed him!” The other guy said, “You are in big trouble! I do not know how this is going to end. I know him. He will make this known to the whole world! If he goes to the hospital and has his wound examined, the results will be enough for you to sit in prison for years, not to mention the other crime of yours. You even hurt me —look!” He showed me his elbow. It was purple and swollen. “How did I hurt you?” “How did you? The chair. If I had not fended off the chair with my hands, he would have been killed! Or at least he would have been knocked out. Then you would be done for. You are crazy, crazy!” Xiao Bai shook his head with a funny smile, “Yes, you are like a crazy bull. I was scared to death. You should not have used a stick to go after him. Your fists should have been enough. One hit of the stick would have ended his life and yours.” I said, “My fists would be more destructive. One strike would end his life. -- Did I really hurt him?” “Yes, the left side of his head was swollen. His three fingers are swollen; his foot is swollen too. I hope you did not really break his fingers.” I said, “If they are really broken, he will cry constantly.” Yang Hua’s home fellow said, “He is wooden. He has not come back to his full consciousness. His brain may not function quite well. I am afraid I must quit being your guard. Who will dare to stay with you? Who knows when you are going to lose your temper and beat us all?”

I was eager to have Chen come back to find out the results of his talk. Finally Chen came back. That guy was not behind him. I sat up and looked up at him. Has he gone to knock on the chief’s door? I searched Chen’s face for an answer. He said to the two guys, “Go to sleep. Sorry that I was not here. Please keep things to yourselves. I will take care of him.” He asked me to follow him out.

We went out. I was really anxious. The worst scenario would be that the chief would come immediately and more soldiers would be called in. My hands would be tied together; I would be put in a smaller room. I deserved that. My treatment would depend upon that nasty guy: whether he reported it to the chief or not. It was actually upon Chen: whether he could manipulate that guy. I will beg that guy to settle this under the table. I will offer to pay him some money ……

Lao Chen did not say anything. I could not help asking where that guy was. He did not respond. He stopped by an empty building, asked me to sit on the cement steps. I sat down. I thought he would comfort me when no others were around. We were friends. The scolding in front of that guy had just been for show.

He asked, “Tell me. What did you do today?” The tone of this inquiry had suddenly changed his status from a friend to be a security guy. He was interrogating me. My brain stopped functioning. I had to take his orders. I flatly told him what had happened and tried to explain why it happened. He had no intention of listening to it; he interrupted me, “No matter what he said and what he did, does he deserve to be beaten by you so brutally?” I wanted to tell him how badly this guy had treated me, but he cut me off again, “Stop telling me all this! Tell me, how old are you?” I did not want to answer this ridiculous question, he was making fun of me, but I had to. I murmured, “Twenty-five.” “So you are not a kid. At the age of eighteen, one must shoulder the responsibility for whatever one does. You are twenty-five. You know the consequences of your behavior? Have you brought less trouble to this academy, to Kang, to our department? to your family? to yourself? -- What have you done? You are too self-indulgent! What made you think you could do whatever you wanted? You are a grown-up; you are a child no more. Think before you act! I did not criticize you before; I respected you for what you have done! But now I realize that it was totally your fault. You put yourself in unnecessary trouble. What can I say to you? You have brought trouble to everyone close to you! If you had broken his head, broken his feet, what would the consequences be? Have you ever used your brain when you did something? -- What can I say to you? En?” His voice was getting ever louder, and he got more and more emotional. I said, “I am very sorry…” I thought about the oath I had sworn to my brothers, to my father, to myself, and to those local officials who had helped me to join the army: “I will tolerate everything. If others spit in my face I will clean it myself with a smile!” I have broken my oath again! -- I am so weak that I can not control myself. I will be a failure for the rest of my life! Only those who can control themselves can control the world! I failed to control myself. Failure. All the bad luck of mine has been the result of the weakness in my character. Failure! Failure forever …… Suddenly I lost control of myself and burst into tears. Once tears started, I could not stop them. The bitter experience, the loneliness, the pressure, the desperation, and self-blaming overwhelmed me, I cried loudly. Chen stepped on my wave of crying, kept asking, “Did I treat you badly? Did I tell you to let me know everything? Have you listened to me? What have you done? Think of it, you are smart. You should have known what is good for you and what is good for others. Do you need me to teach you? You have brought trouble to so many people, still you are not satisfied? ……” Everything he said made me cry more violently.

Chen kept silence for a while, then offered me a cigarette. “OK, maybe I have been too tough on you. Do not cry. He has gone back to his company. He promised me that he would not go to the chief and the hospital tonight. He would think it over and tell me his decision tomorrow. I told him that he would ruin me if he reported this to the chief. I will be the one to be blamed. I was supposed to be there! Only today I stayed a little bit later, and you did this! OK, it happened, just think about what you should do next time.” He softened his tone. It was a shame to expose my weakness. I tried to suppress the wave of sorrow and stop crying. I took the cigarette. He lit it for me; I began to smoke. I could not suppress sobbing. I said "sorry" in a crying voice. He said with a chuckle, “OK, what’s the use of saying 'sorry'? I've noticed that you are one who easily says ‘sorry’. You must take a lesson from this, or you will put yourself in a more miserable situation.” His smile became a little warmer. “You are too wild. Yang Hua said he did not know that you were such a guy, or he would have treated you differently. I told him that you must have controlled yourself quite well for a long time. -- You really hurt him! I examined his head. My heavens! The swelling on his head was as big as a fist! He could not put his cap on; his fingers had swelled so big, he could not move them. On his foot there was a small lump. He could not walk straight. I am scared! You could have killed him or disabled him! If that happens, I am done for, you are done for. --What did you use to beat him?” I just said I was sorry. “Sorry does not help. If he has called the chief and gone to the hospital for emergency treatment, everyone will know that the one being watched has beaten up his watcher. You have tons of reasons for beating him, but you will be blamed and be the one to get the punishment! OK, let bygones be bygones. I will use all my means to stop him from reporting this. If he reports this, I will not be able to accompany you. I do not know what is going to happen. You should have let me know he had been giving you a hard time. I would have had him replaced, or prevented him from treating you like that. I hope after a good sleep he will calm down. He cried so loudly; his voice got hoarse. Alas! ……”

We became colleagues again. We sat on the cement steps smoking. It was quiet and cold. Most of the lights were off. Through the naked branches of maple trees I could see the blue sky. Three sentries walking in rhythm passed us. I felt a little chilled. We sat there quietly. Chen had nothing more to say; neither did I. I really wanted to punish myself by sitting there in the cold air for the whole night. Chen urged me to go inside.

The next morning, Chen did not leave. He had breakfast and lunch with me. In the afternoon he asked Xiao Bai to ask Yang to come to see him. Yang came, his eyes were swollen. He avoided eye contact with me. Chen said, “I criticized Cai Zheng the whole night. I hope you can forgive him, and you two can get along with each other. Yang Hua, please give me a face. Do not quit.” I extended my hands toward him, “I lost my mind. I am really sorry about that. Please forgive me!” He did not accept my hands. Without looking at me, he said, “I would like to put you in shackles. -- If I reported this to the chief, you would be in shackles in a small cell. Lao Chen is my friend; that would bring him trouble. So I will not do that. I am going to quit. I have no face to stay here.” I was relieved. He was not going to report this to the authorities. Chen’s trick had worked on him. I was even more pleased to think that he would be out of my sight! But Chen said, “I trust you. You must stay. I would not like to have them to find a new person. You and I already get along with each other quite well, right? Cai Zheng has promised that he will never do that again. Please stay for my sake.” “I have no face to stay ……” Chen said, “We can talk about that later. Do not move back your stuff.” I put on a smile, “You have treated me quite well. I appreciate that. I swear that this kind of thing will never happen again! I will obey all your orders.” But he became a mouse; he knew who was the cat. He avoided looking at me directly. I was secretly pleased. -- I should have done this a long time ago. “No, I will return to my company. Anyway, I need to go to my company to sleep for a few days. I can not sleep here. Last night I did not sleep one single minute for the injuries hurt so much.” “Have you gone to the hospital? If it needs treatment, you must treat it first.” said Chen. He said, “They gave me some medicine to take and some oil to use on the skin. No bleeding, there's nothing more they can do.” I was overjoyed to know that I hit him so hard without breaking his skin, without letting out any blood! If there was bleeding, it would be a totally different story!

He left with his toothbrush. Chen followed him out.

In a minute, Chen came back. He said to me, “I will persuade him to stay. I will take him out to eat and give him my stipend for watching you. He will go back home next month. If he quits now, it will raise the chief’s suspicion. I am glad that he gives me face.”

Later Yang Hua came back. He did not say a word to me. He stopped being the authority. He just slept there, then went out, and then came back to sleep again. He kept saying that one word of his would land me in a solitary cell with shackles on, but for Chen’ sake, he did not do that. The swelling on his head did not go away and he often complained that it hurt. One day he pulled up his trousers to show me the blue part on his foot. I joked that his foot was stronger than the chair, for the chair was broken and could not be used after I had used it as a weapon against him. He stayed another month till he left for home.

After the Spring Festival, three new soldiers were sent in. The leader of the three was a strong short guy. He easily burst into laughter, exposing his white teeth. He almost never wore the army uniform. He worn leather shoes, black suits and a very expensive watch. His hair was always well done by professionals. I asked him how much money he got from his family. He exclaimed, “Are you kidding me? I have never got one single penny from my family!” “How could you lead such a luxurious life?” He looked around, then laughed, “Stealing.” I could not help joining him in laughter. “You do not believe me? I even have some savings.” He told me that he stole everything. Nowadays the article that he stole most frequently was sheepskin overcoats. In our troop every technician had one sheepskin overcoat. The quality was really good; the local people were willing to pay dearly for them. I asked, “If you are caught, you are going to go to jail!” He laughed, as if I was an idiot, “How can they catch me? I have been doing this for years; I have never been caught! Though I have not graduated from middle school, my knowledge of this business is equivalent to a doctor's of his!” I asked him why he was chosen to guard me, he said, “I am smart! I gave the political instructor ten packs of cigarettes. I will get the money back in one month for watching you – I get a stipend every day for watching you and I do not have to go to work. If I stayed in the company, I would have to work from early morning till night.” His face was blossoming like a flower, “I'll tell you something funny: I have sold our political instructor’s boots. He was mad when he found his boots were gone. He called an emergency get-together of the whole company and ordered an immediate search of everyone’s bedside cupboard. How funny it was! -- The boots had already become a small number in my deposit book, how could he find them in my bedside cupboard!” “Why his boots? Do you hate him?” “His boots were very nice. He left them on the heating pipes in the toilet. I did not know they were his.”

This guy was crazy about a girl in a barbershop in the city. He talked about her everyday: she looked exactly like Gongli. Every other day he would go there to have his hair done by that Gongli. He insisted on taking me to the town to see her. I was curious and really wanted to take a look at the Gongli in this small city. One evening I sneaked out with him to see his dream girl. It was a small “Wenzhou Hair Beauty Salon”. It was a little dark inside. There were three girls. I looked around and did not see a tall girl. All the girls were short and tiny with gray faces. He blinked his eyes and pursed his lips toward the girl who was working on his hair, “Doesn't she look like Gongli?” I almost wanted to laugh at him right in front of the girl. This Gongli was almost only at half the height of Gongli. Nothing about her except her face had even a little flavor of Gongli. With tiny hands and tiny legs, she looked like a minor. I said, “Yes, she looks like exactly Gongli!” He told me to have my hair cut and he paid for me.

Many fine days, the thief doctor would take me to jump over the wall of the barracks to wander in the fields. The thief doctor would sing songs. He said girls liked to listen to him sing and asked me whether I thought he had the talent of a singing star. I had to agree, "Sure, you have.” Whenever we saw a girl riding a bike, the thief doctor would put hands around his mouth to form an amplifier, then make a hoarse, scary scream in the Northwest accent, “Wheels have touched the ground!” The girl would be scared and get off the bike to ask him what was wrong. He would hold his laughter, speak in the local dialect clearly, “I said that the wheels of your bike have touched the ground.” The girls would often blush; some would shout back: “Nonsense!” and get back on their bikes. Looking at the back of the girl, he would laugh himself to tears.

I really enjoyed the walking. I felt like I was free. The fields in the north were smooth. Sunlight poured onto the endless yellow fields. The naked trees and the small villages were soaked in brine. It was peacefully quiet. We walked and walked; the sun made me feel warm and comfortable. I had worried so much that my golden time was wasted -- I could do nothing day and night with unbearable anxiety. Walking in the fields, I could put aside all my worries about the future and just enjoy the sunshine, the blue sky and the crystal air. The scene made me drunken. At those periods of time, I owned the fields, I owned the crystal air, I owned the bright sunshine, I owned the blue sky, -- I owned the universe!

6. Home

 

When I was in the room, whenever I heard a vehicle approaching, I got nervous. I always worried that the vehicle was coming to take me to a jail. Passing vehicles often woke me up in the night. I would keep tracking their sound till it died out far away. I was so relieved every time as soon as I had made sure that the vehicle was just passing by. I told myself repeatedly that the coming and going vehicles had nothing to do with me, still I could not stop fearing them.

I had been looking forward to all the festivals in the expectation of possibly being released before each one. I had put so much hope in the Spring Festival. Spring Festival is a time of forgiveness and unification of the family. Still, up until Spring Festival, there had not any good news for me. After the Spring Festival, I lost hope of being released soon. But just after the Moon Festival, Lao Chen asked me to collect my stuff. Two days later, it was announced that I was being deprived of membership in the Youth League and was being given the most serious demerit. Right after the announcement, I was told to leave the barracks immediately. A jeep was coming to take me to the train station. They had already booked the tickets. Gong, a director in one of the offices in our department and Zhao, a volunteer in our department, would escort me to my hometown.

Two plastic bags held all my property: some books, some old clothes and a military quilt. When I had my bags ready and walked out of the Teaching Building, all the teachers in our department were cleaning the ground in front of the building. They dropped their brooms to surround me. Cui, a soft-spoken teacher, who had settled down in the city, came over and held my hands, "I was going to talk to you. I have talked to some of my friends. They hope to give you a hand. Please go back home and see your family. They won't be able to understand what you did. Do not stay there. Come back. Several schools here need English teachers. Leave your stuff here, please!" I was moved. I knew there was no place for me in my hometown. I had made up my mind to go to the south right after I got the paper work done. I said I might come back if I had no where to go. "The people here understand this ?" He wanted to say more, but I had to go. I tried to shake hands with everyone. An old teacher refused to shake hands with me; he did not put down his broom. I had to ignore him. The jeep came, Gong and Zhao helped to drag in my bags. Right before we closed the door of the jeep, the chief of security came in a hurry to let me sign the paper: the end of living under observation. I signed it, got in the jeep, and waved good-bye to the teachers.

When we reached the station, there was only half an hour left before the train left. The station was very crowded. Zhao and Gong helped me to drag the bags into the luggage room. A woman in a railway worker's uniform stopped us. She stared at Gong and Zhao, who were in officers' uniforms, ordered coldly, "Open the bags." Gong said, "We are from the Air Force. Look at the seals. The baggage has been checked." There was a treaty between the army and the train station: if there was a seal on the bag from the army, that meant all the stuff inside had been examined; the station did not need to recheck it. "Open!" The woman repeated stiffly. Gong put on a humble smile: "The time is limited. Could you do us a favor and let us pass?" The woman seemed annoyed by Gong; she raised her voice, "The baggage of the army men is the very thing that we want to check!" Zhao opened one of the bags. The woman began to pick out stuff slowly. Gong put on a flattering smile; "We only have a few minutes. Could you do it quickly, please?" The woman said in a businesslike manner, "Take everything out, I need to check it piece by piece." It would be very hard to get the things out and put them back in order; doing that would take more than half an hour. People were rushing toward the platform. Gong looked at the standing train and then at his watch anxiously. Obviously the woman was intentionally finding fault. Gong sensed something. He got close to the woman, whispered, "You know, he participated in June the 4th. He was a teacher in our academy. He is talented. We do not like to send him home, but the higher-ups ordered us to do that." The woman suddenly stopped. She looked at me full of sympathy and surprise and asked in a soft voice, "Really?" With my hands in my pockets, I nodded slightly. She waved her hands, turned away, "Sorry. Go." Hurriedly Zhao put the stuff back. Gong helped him drag the bags to the luggage room.

Sitting on the train, I was so excited. -- I am free. I can talk to anyone. I was not put to death, I am not being put into prison. All the punishment is only on paper! I am young and strong! What can I not achieve? I can go to the south to make big money; I can have great success in literature! I can prove to the world that I have been living in this world, ? Oh, freedom! Freedom!

After the train left the station, Gong made a speech:

"Cai Zheng! You are too straight. You can not tolerate injustice, what can you do? You have to live with it. You want to struggle with them? It is just like using eggs to hit rocks. You are too idealistic! The reality is reality. Just bear it! Find your own niche to make a living! I really feel regret for you. You had a bright future in the army. You ruined it. --What did you jump up and down for? How short one's life is! How tiny is one individual's strength! What can you achieve? You are young! Too emotional! Following your consciousness to do things will beget you trouble! A disaster to you as an individual is nothing to the society! You have picked up your life. You should be glad for that! If the soldiers had pulled the trigger even slightly -'pong!', you would be dead. Who would know how you got killed? Who would care! ? Only your family would shed tears. Later on you might have been honored as a martyr, but what would be the use of it if you were dead! If you had been put into prison for ten years, even if you got reappraise later on, how many ten years do you get in a lifetime? What's the use of caring so much! Lots of things could be put this way or that way; it is up to someone's tongue! Things in our country can not be put straight; nobody can put them straight! You are just a little bit older than twenty. Draw a lesson from this! Later on just think about how to make a better living for yourself!" He stopped, then shook his head, "Do you know that we had the paper work ready to advance you to be an officer? Right before we announced that, you were caught. Now talking about this is meaningless."

I did not say anything. To be an officer was not the least bit interesting to me. At the moment, my blood was flowing like a joyful stream in the hills. I wanted to cry out to the whole world: I am free! I am free!

I needed to prove that I was free. I looked around and tried to find ways to prove that! -- Only beautiful ladies could help me to prove that! --Oh, there is a charming girl in a student officer's uniform. Go to sit close to her! Go to talk to her! A man is sitting by her. If he refuses to give me his seat, it will be embarrassing; if I get to sit by her and she refuses to talk to me, it will be more embarrassing. -- I am free. I can do everything I want to do! How wonderful it will be to enjoy my freedom by chatting with a charming girl student officer!

I said to Gong, "Look, there is a pretty girl. I want to get to know her." Gong laughed, "She won't talk to you." "Watch." I approached the girl and said to the man sitting by her, "Could you do me a favor? -- We are together." I pointed to the girl, "Could we change the seats? My seat is over there." The girl looked at me with startled eyes. "How are you?" I greeted her. She said hello to me with a smile. The man looked back following my finger, smiled at me and moved out willingly. I took the seat and said to the girl, "I am from the Air Force. Which institute are you in?" She told me she was in a foreign language institute. Her major was English. I said in English, "Glad to meet you." She asked me where I learnt English, I said, "On my own."

The talk began. We were just like good friends. It seemed that there was no end to the talk. Every single topic was so interesting. We had so much to share. She laughed heartily at my jokes and I felt really pleased at her laughter. Time passed very quickly. It seemed we had just started talking when the train reached her station. We exchanged addresses and promised to exchange letters before she got off in the middle of the night. Holding the address of the girl, I fell asleep.

The next morning after I woke up, it was a little foggy outside. The fog thinly covered the mountains and fields. Low houses scattered in the barren fields along the railway. A few farmers were walking on the narrow roads; none paid attention to the train. The train slowly entered our province. Greenness began to pop up in the fields. Rain set in. The milky rain blurred the green wheat fields and the low houses with decaying shingles. The rain got heavier. Big drops of rain, like teardrops, were caressing the window glass.

After the train entered the station of our provincial capital, it rained harder. Getting off the train, we bought umbrellas and had a simple breakfast, then got on a bus heading to my county. As the bus drove out of the city, the rain stopped. Coming into view were low hills, dark green pine trees, a few red brick houses and tender green wheat and vegetables. My heart beat faster and faster as the bus got closer to my home.

 

Six years ago, when I graduated from college, I applied to go home to be a peasant. As one born in the rural area, I could only live and die in the village as the grass on the hills could only grow and die on the hills. Only by entering college via the National College Entrance Examination, I boarded the boat of the state. I could enjoy the benefit of the hukou system. I could work and live in the cities; I was guaranteed a job with a stable salary; I would get all kinds of coupons; my children would have free medical attention and a state job. Hukou differentiated the whole population. The people with hukou were in the boat, the people without it were in the water. Part of the harshest punishment for people with hukou who committed crimes was to deprive them of hukou and drive them to live in the rural area. But I decided to throw away the state job I would have and the hukou I obtained and go to my native village to raise chickens.

Father said, if you insisted on being stupid, I would commit suicide to make you change your mind. I said even if you committed suicide I would not change my mind. The Bureau of Cadres in our county sent two officials to my home to persuade me. They said if you wanted to be an official instead of being a teacher, OK, take the teaching job first, we would transfer you to the county government the next year. We really need college students. The officials in the Bureau of Education in the county also came to persuade me. They said if you want to raise chickens at home, we can assign you to a school close to your home. All the persuasion just made me mad. -- They all got me wrong. I wanted nothing else but to be a poet close to the fields.

I originally planned to raise chickens to make a simple living, but autumn was not the time to start raising chickens. Facing the fierce opposition at home, I decided to join the army. In that very October, everywhere I ran into walls. I had to leave home and take a teaching job in a middle school in the west of our province. Three months later, a colleague of mine accused me of stealing his money. I was furious for the insult and used my fists to acquit myself. After that I left the school to go to the south. I was stuck in Guiyang for that I did not have the money to buy train ticket. My luggage was withheld by the train station. I had to fool around the city. It was winter. Sometimes I had to fool the people in the hotel to let me stay in for one night or so. Many times I was thrown out of small private hotels. I had to stay in the park for the night. Fortunately it was not that cold in the city. Later I had to seek the help from the stationmaster. He was a nice old man. I told him my story. Immediately he asked his assistant to trace my luggage. After they gave me back my luggage, the stationmaster's assistant put me in a train heading back to my provincial capital. I was back home before the Spring Festival.

The next year, in the early spring, I bought fifty chickens to do my experiment. At least thirty of them would be female; each day they would lay at least 20 eggs. The income I got by selling the eggs would be equal to that I would get as a teacher. In the coming years, I would raise more chickens. Later I could use my experiment to teach other villagers to follow me to get rich. At the same time, I could read and write.

Alas, chickens were the most fragile creatures in the world! So easily they got sick! --They need sunlight. Spring is the raining season. It had been darkly cloudy for months. We could use artificial light, but electricity came as rarely as the sun in the season. I should have given chickens immunization shots, but the veterinarian asked one hundred-yuan for that -- each chick only cost me 20 cents! I could not afford the shot. First the chickens refused to eat, then their asses got dirty, then they lay down, cried in a weak voice. In one month, all of them were gone. So was my hope of living off them.

The darkness during daytime, the mud-covered ground, and the stench of the rotten stuff at my home village was so dreadful. I had to manage to leave the village. The only way left for me was to join the army.

It was extremely difficult for me to join the army. People were saying that I would shoot people using the gun I was going to have. I would bring disaster to my family and to the officials who recruited me. I had to swear to all those concerned. First of all, I had to swear to Oldest Brother. Oldest Brother was very capable of walking through the back doors and very good at dealing with the local emperors. I had been ridiculing him for his slavish attitude toward those tiny emperors, now I had to beg him to knock on their doors for me. He had been mad because I threw away the "iron rice bowl". He had struggled for 20 years to get an iron rice bowl but did not get it; I had got it so easily but I threw it away. He said he would like to look ahead. I might be a great general. However, I must first change myself to be submissive, then he would mobilize all his guanxi to help me.

By the time, we had a new Minister of Military Service in the town. Fortunately I did not beat that guy one year ago when he was in our village. The year before, my neighbor had given birth to the fourth child. That guy came to his home to force him to pay the fine. He roared and struck the table with his fists. My neighbor, a thirty-five year old man, trembled in front of him. His wife and kids were all crying loudly. "I will tie you up, take you to the town government! Give me the rope!" No rope, he got a scissors, cut the rope on a rice basket, and tried to pull it out. At the very moment I said to myself, if he dared to tie my neighbor, I would jump at him and beat him to death! My blood was boiling in me. Amazingly, he constantly looked at me, as if he knew what I was thinking. All villagers were begging him not to be mad. I just silently looked at him. He jumped up and down like crazy Japanese officers who could not find the real communist guerrilla in the movies. Thanks to his smart decision not to tie my neighbor up, he saved himself and left the door open for me. At that time, he did not have any idea about who I was. Later he got to know me. He told Oldest Brother he needed to make sure that I would not shoot people. Brother told him my determination. He asked me to see him with a bunch of bamboo sticks.

I planted bamboo in front of my house when I was ten. I used all my means to keep them growing, -- picked up chicken shit to put around roots of the bamboo, hold on not to piss on the way back from school to pass water at the bamboo. I often crawled on the ground to examine the little bamboo shoots. I had been thrilled to see the tiny shoots growing up. For many years, the bamboo had only grown a few sticks. In the very year when I was going to graduate from high school, more than two hundred bamboo shoots rose up in one night! I really liked the chilly shadow it produced in the summer and the bright greenness it had in the winter. I loved them so much that I had never thought of cutting them down. Now the tiny emperor had the request, I had to satisfy him. I had to choose the biggest bamboo stalks, cut them, clean them, and tie them up to make one bundle. On a hot day, I carried it on my back to see that guy. It weighed more than sixty kilograms. It was so hard to carry it on my back, to walk on the narrow edges of the fields that zigzagged up and down the hills. Several times I threw it on the ground and clenched my teeth to kick it. But I had to make more effort to pick it up. Brother had said it was time for me to be trained to lower my head to please those who mastered my destiny. He said Minister Wang wanted to take this action of mine as a test whether I was "mature".

When Minister Wang saw me with the bamboo in his dormitory in the town government compound, he cheerfully declared: "You have passed my examination!" From then he took pushing me to join the army as his own cause.

Too many young men wanted to join the army. The competition was so intense. Since Minister Wang wanted me to join the army, I had the advantage. But he did not have a say in the physical examination process. I was strong. Still I worried that I could not pass the physical examination. They would select only thirty out of more than two hundred candidates; the physical examination was extremely strict. In June, I had a cold. I had lain in bed for three days. Second Brother had to use a cart to carry me to see the doctor. I got a shot and recovered the next day. Since then I often felt tired.

For more than half a year, I waited at home to join the army. I had no idea what I should do if I failed to join the army. I had been anxious about it day and night. I must make sure that I was physically sound. I went to see Doctor Tong, the former barefoot doctor. He said that I might have some lung problem. Hearing this, I decided to go to the county hospital to take an X-ray examination. If I had any problem, I could get rid of it secretly. I did not want to take the X-ray examination in the town hospital. In case I had some problem, everybody in the town would know it and my opportunity would be ruined.

To go to the county seat to take the exam, I needed some money. It was August, we just had the rice in. Brother said, you could sell some rice.

Selling rice was a painful process for peasants. There was only one state-owned rice collection center. The clerks took peasants as pigs and cows and their rice as their shit. They always said the rice was too wet, then lowered the price. Each year, they shared good profits they made out of collecting rice. I dreaded to sell rice, but I had to. In one morning, I took two bags of rice to the Collection Center with Oldest Brother.

When we reached the Center, hundreds of people were already waiting in long lines. Numberless black naked backs were shining in the sun. Peasants were cursing, quarrelling and yelling; the Center became a battlefield. Thick dust was rising up in all the corners. It was difficult to breath; the scorching sun made my eyes hurt. Oldest Brother kept saying, "You want to be a peasant! Look, are we human? Those bastards treat us like pigs. If you know them, you do not have to dry your rice in the sun, you do not have to wait in line, they will take it promptly with good rating!" We knew none of them. We had to sit on the rice, and moved forward following the line.

The clerks had long knives in hands. They pieced them through the bags to draw out some rice. Nobody dared to complain that they broke the bags. The rice would keep falling out of the holes if the holes were not blocked immediately. When the fat, black guy approached me, I got nervous. Brother stood up to give him a cigarette. The fat guy just put the cigarette on the back of his ears. The cigarettes piled up on the back of his ears made him look like a magician who was playing tricks with cigarettes. There was no movement on his face. He pieced his knife through my bags, got out some rice, chewed it, then said, "It is too wet." I said, "We had baked it for a whole day!" "Come and take a look at it yourself." He went to a desk, put the rice in a device on the desk, and said that the ratio of water was too high. I did know how to argue with him. The same was brother's rice. Brother said to me, "We had baked it for a whole day! What can you do? You need to sell the rice, or you get no money. You can only sell your rice here." We had to move out of the line. I was angry. -- For more than fifty kilograms of rice, if I had sold it, I could only get about ten yuan. How much effort had we invested in getting the rice? Now for selling it, I needed to spend a whole day! How much is one day of mine worth?

We had to dry it in the sun again. We found a place on the sports ground of the high school. We spread the rice on the cement ground, then sat by the wall to rest.

In the later afternoon we took the rice back. More people were crowded there. We had to wait in the long line again. But just before my turn, they announced that it was all over for today! Lots of people were still behind me! That meant all of us had to take the rice home and came back tomorrow. I picked up two bags of my rice, each in one hand, threw them on the platform balance, ordered the guy who declared my rice too wet this morning, "You must take mine!" He ignored me and walked toward their office. I seized his shirt, suppressed my anger, and issued the order again: "You must take mine today!" He cut my hands with his hands, said scornfully, "Who are you?" "Do you want to take mine or not?" I stared at him, clenched my teeth. "No!" He shouted.

My anger erupted. I struck him on his chest and roared: "You bastard!" He cried out and thrust his sword at me. I grasped the sword and pulled it from him. Several young clerks shouted and ran toward me with their swords in hands. I threw away the sword, ran to the center of an open ground. All the peasants were applauding. The clerks surrounded me. I kicked around; none of them could reach me. Oldest Brother came over to hold my waist to prevent me rushing forward. One guy looked like a monkey jumped out, threw away his sword, made some gesture of martial arts by hitting and kicking the air, shouted, "All of you just stand aside, let me take care of this clodhopper!" He waved his fingers toward me, "Come on! Come on! Who retreats first is the little man!" I laughed and asked brother, "Let me teach this little monkey a lesson." Brother said, "I must sell my rice. Stop it! -- I should not have taken you here. You only make trouble!" Several peasants from our neighboring villages also came over to stop me. I had to give in and retreat.

I sat on the road leading back to home to wait for brother. Finally he showed up. He laughed, "You beat him, I had to apologize. They wondered who dared to beat them! They made a joint decision that they would never take any rice from you. I had to tell them who you are; they woke up. Only you dared to beat them! Everyone is pleased that you beat them. They really need a lesson. I will sell your rice. I have to beg them tomorrow." He had shifted the rice to a teacher's home to keep it there.

The next day, brother sold the rice and gave me the money. Then I took the bus to go to the People's Hospital in the county seat.

In the hospital, I paid the money, got the receipt for an X-ray examination, and then waited by the X-ray room for my turn. The doctor in charge of the X-ray was chatting with another doctor in the next room. He kept chatting and chatting, as if nobody was waiting for him. I had to interrupt him, "Doctor, could you please?" He said impatiently, "What is so urgent? Wait a second!" After a while, another patient came. He greeted him and examined him before me. After that, I thought it should be my turn, but he went back to chat again. I had waited for almost one hour, and he did not have any intention to end my waiting. I approached him, tore the receipt to pieces, and threw the pieces by his feet, said clearly in a low voice: "Damn you!" He turned toward me, yelled fiercely, "You cursed me?" I stared at him, repeated, "I said: Damn you!" He jumped at me and seized one of my arms, shouted, "Go to police station! You dare to shit here!" The doctor who had been chatting with him also jumped up to seize another arm of mine. That doctor was quite strong. Two of them turned my hands on my back and pushed me like that military police pushed a criminal to be executed. They roared, "Go, go to police station!" I just let them hold me like that and walked with them toward the gate. I had to lower my head like a criminal. Ling's father was the head of police station. He would blame me for making trouble. I'd better to run away. When we almost reached the gate, I roared, "Go to see your mom!" and made a sudden back turn. I got out of my hands from them, and ran toward the gate. They chased me. The younger doctor was so fast that he seized the back of my shirt; I had to turn back and gave him a cut at his wrist. My shirt was torn apart. They shouted, "Capture the earthy bun! Capture the earthy bun!" Nobody responded to their call. People in the corridor just stared at us. I ran out of the hospital. The street was too muddy. They did not follow out. I stood in a safe distance, yelled at them, "You bastards, come out! Come to get me. Fuck you! You are a shame to doctors! Peel off the white coat! That's sheepskin on wild dogs! You should go to eat shit!" They stood by the gate. The doctor's face turned pale. He yelled, "Dare you come a little closer? I will lock you up in the jail!" "Son, do you know what you are talking about? Dare you come to take me!" I waved my fingers toward them. They walked down the steps in front of the hospital. I backed up in response. Many people in the street stopped to watch the game. "You coward, you clodhopper, go back to your dirty village! Do not shit and piss in the city. You are lucky today, or you will be in jail!" I shouted back, "Son, do you know how big you are talking? Come! I am here waiting for you to take me to police station. Come! Come to get me!" They did not come. I felt bored and left.

We must be physically examined twice. The first time I got so excited that my heart beat wildly. I finished a bottle of wine to cool me down. During the examination, Minister Wang followed me. He was more nervous than I was. When the doctor announced that I had a heart problem and a high blood pressure, he went pale. I told him that I had taken a bottle of wine. Humbly he begged the doctors to check me another time. The doctor said wine could have caused the problem, but they were suspicious of what I said. Finally the doctor said, OK, I will check you another time one hour later. Wang was overjoyed. He took me to his room, brought in a basin of cold water and asked me to finish it. I drank three bowls of chilly well water. Luckily cold water cleaned me of the problem. The second time was the formal exam. In the morning, mother fried sixteen duck eggs and cooked a bowl of noodles. It made me nauseate to eat so much in the early morning. It was said that with more food in the stomach, they could not find out your liver problem. Most young men at my hometown were disqualified because of bigger liver. This time, most doctors were from the county hospital. They were beyond brother's network. In the final step of the exam, I was told that the doctor would put a blue or a red mark in the form after the examination. A red one meant disqualified. The doctor in charge of the final step was a fifty-year-old man. I wanted to tell him that I was a college graduate, this was my only hope to change my destiny. But he gave me no chance to talk. He was so serious about his job. After he felt my stomach, he asked me to put on my clothes. He picked up the pen. My eyes followed the tip of his pen. My brain was close to explode. My destiny was on the tip of his pen. A red cross was a death penalty. If he gave me a red X, I would jump up and throw him over the floor. He slowly put his pen on the form, made a blue cross.

Before I was going to leave home, Minister Wang treated me as if I was a general. He invited me to live with him in his dorm. He fetched hot water for me to wash and threw the water for me after I finished washing. He told me that one in the other town who had become the General Chief in Beijing Military Group had invited the minister who recruited him to Beijing. The General Chief had the minister stayed in the best hotel and assigned him an officer during his stay. The officer drove a limousine to show him around. When the minister returned from Beijing, our county government promoted him at once! After telling the story, he had his shining eyes toward me, "If you become a general, will you remember me?" I exclaimed, "How could I forget you? You are my savior! I would do whatever possible to let you feel glory for me!" He smiled, "I believe you. Many people said that you would become a criminal. I had been afraid of that. You know, one guy from the neighboring town shot his captain to death. The minister who recruited him was fired. After getting to know you, I believe you are not that kind of guy. Though you fought everywhere, it was not always your fault. You are straight and brave. That is the making of a general. All the great generals from our county behaved the same way like you. Li Xiannian used his axe for cutting wood to cut bad guys' necks. He became the chairman. Of course, today we are in a new society. To be a general requires more of intelligence and knowledge. You have a college education. That's where you surpassed the old generation. You are likely to become a greater general than any generals from our county. "

The county government had given our troop a special introduction about me. My name had been in the local newspaper, for I "dropped the pen and pick up the rifle". Before I left home, we only invited a few officials who helped me to join the army to eat at our home. While I was suffering the torture of the stupid squad leader in the barracks, brother wrote to me saying that some doctors in our town hospital were mad at me for I did not invite them to eat. He had to promise them that when I became a high-rank officer I would make up for that; one of my classmates who introduced Wang to me complained that I was ungrateful -- for I did not even write to him?

All of the people at my hometown believed that there was not any doubt that I would be a general. Now the future-to-be general became a "political criminal". What would happen to Minister Wang? People may make fun of him. Hopefully he would not get fired because of me.

The bus would pass the town near my home. When it reached the small town, I came to think that I was only one thousand meters away from father. -- Oh, father, have you sensed that I am close to you? I should go to see you. But I have no face to see you. If I could not see you this time, maybe I could never see you again. 

When the bus passed through the street of our town, I could not help looking out. People walking on the street in ragged clothes looked up when the bus got close. I knew none of them. The houses on the two sides of the street were low and old. The tiles on the rooms were gray. A building collapsed like a bomb had been dropped on it; the ugly bone of the wall extended out like a dead elephant's teeth; a big dried branch fell from a black tree, lying on the roof. The white paint on the walls of grocery stores was all decayed; watermarks from the rain ran down the walls; the small sales windows in the simply built huts along the street were just like the holes in death's head. At the end of the old street, among the black mud and garbage were peddlers, lined up, sitting. Everyone was the color of the mud in the street. Looking at the road, the houses, the fields and the people, sorrow hit me like waves. --Is this my hometown that I had missed so much day and night? Is this the land where the revolutionists' blood had changed the color of the soil? Is this the cradle to more than two hundred generals and so many national leaders of new China?! Where are the shining flowers grown in the soil enriched by the blood of the heroic people? Where are the fruits of victory of revolution?

 

 

 

7. The Girl

 

It was three o'clock in the afternoon when the bus arrived at the county seat. The yellowish sunlight painted the gray walls and the black streets with a touch of sadness. On the street walked the people, in gray. I looked around and expected to see someone that could brighten the world; I was disappointed.

The bus station was crowded with people rushing in and out like flies without heads. Outside of the station, were many coolies in black cotton-padded coats and trousers sitting on or lying by their two-wheel carts. They rushed to anyone with bags. When Gong waved to an old man, the old man proudly stood up and ran to us. Five yuan set the deal. This modest amount might be worth one day's pay here. The old man insisted on carrying the bags onto the cart by himself and said we could sit on the cart. None of us liked to sit on it. He was too thin. Dragging the cart, his whole body bent forward facing the ground. When we gave the cart a push, the old man would turn back and smile at us.

Many people turned to look at us. Fortunately I knew none of them. When we reached the government hotel, Gong paid the old man. The old man volunteered to carry our luggage into the hotel after getting his pay, but we did not want to exploit him. He left with a satisfied smile.

We checked in the hotel. I threw myself into the sofa. I was exhausted. I hoped that Lingling did not know that I was here. I was eager to get the paper work done. The best would be that it got done today, so I could get rid of Gong and Zhao and turn back to the provincial capital that very evening or tomorrow morning and buy a ticket to go to the south. I feared to be seen in this city. It would be humiliating to be viewed by the Red People as a criminal. I must run away as soon as possible.

When we settled down, it had just passed five o'clock, all the government offices were closed by then. We had to wait until tomorrow. I would push Gong to get the paper work done at 8 AM, so I could take the bus at 8:30 AM to leave. The sooner I left, the better, or I would be trapped in a net that I could not escape.

We had dinner in the dining room in the hotel. After dinner I sank into the sofa again. I felt heavy. This was my hometown. I had dreamed of coming back for so long, but I had been afraid of coming back. Two years ago, I got a thirty-day leave, though I had missed father so much, I could not face him and all the people who helped me to join the army. I went to the Northeast, fooled around there for one month instead of coming back home.

Gong tried to cheer me up, "It occurred, just face it. It is your home. Try to start from the very beginning. You are young; you have your expertise. We would try our best to help you." He asked me to go to see a movie. I could not comfort myself. I felt tired.

-- The people in my home live in a totally different time compared to the people near Beijing. Even if they do not treat me as a criminal, in this small county, what can I do? I had rejected the job assigned by the government six years ago; I left for the army in such a glorious way. I had been put on the way leading to heaven. Now I am back. How can they understand me for getting into this? Lingling could have been my girlfriend, but I had coldly rejected her. I only wanted to be a poet. She wanted a husband, a role that I feared to play. It will be embarrassing for me to meet her like this. Back at home, father is dying. The only and best way is to go to the south to make some money. But I am not good at making money. How could I live on? Where should my life begin? ?

I shrunk into the sofa, feeling cold.

There was a knock on the door. I did not move. Gong got the door. In front of us stood a shining girl in sky-blue overcoat. She was smiling. Her face was milky white, her eyes were shinning like jewels; there were two dimples on her cheeks, two big black plaits hung over her shoulder. Seeing her, my heart trembled. I was knocked unconscious by her beauty, the kind of beauty that could make one burn like gas. I felt feeble. I stood up. -- How did she find me! Nobody knows when I left the barracks and when I would arrive at the county seat!

Gong looked at me and her, then cheerfully made a gesture of inviting, "Come on in, please!"

"Forgot me?" she stared at me with a smile. In one second, she had poured all of her love, her tenderness and sweetness stored in her for so many years to my heart through her eyes.

"You are prettier. You have grown up." I tried to control myself. I calmly introduced her to Gong, "This is Lingling."

Gong cheerfully laughed, "I see! I see! Cai Zheng has good fortune! -- Come on in!"

Still she had her smiling eyes on me, "Am I welcome?" Like a warrior, with a pair of watery eyes ready to shed tears as her weapon, she had blocked my way in the narrow mountain road leading to my unknown future. She had recognized me even though I was in the mask. "You want to run away from me?" She seemed to ask. I had to drop the mask to meet her face to face. I said in my heart, "No, no more running away. I give up. I am too tired. God has arranged this. He has taken me to be here to get close to you. ?"

I just wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, to hold her in my arms tightly, to drop myself in the sweet lukewarm stream of hers. But I only said awkwardly, "Sure! Come on in! Come on in!"

She stepped in, brightened and warmed up the room.

She asked in a soft voice, "Why didn’t you inform me you were coming back?" I said I did not know when I would come back. "But why not today? I knew someday you would be back. I called in to check the registration desk everyday. You are finally home!" Abruptly she whispered, "Are you OK?" It sounded like a mother whispering to her sick child. A wave of sorrow popped up in my heart. I blocked the flow of sorrow, put on a smile, "Do I look like being hurt?" She examined me from head to feet, "You look stronger and taller."

I introduced her to Gong and Yao. After she chatted with Gong and Zhao for a while, she asked me to go to her home to take a look.

I feared to go to her home. I said I had not done the paper work, it was not appropriate for me to go out with her now. Gong chuckled, "Go, go, that is not a concern!" Then I had to go out with her.

We walked in the street. I felt the strong wave rising in my heart; it hit the rocks and made strong turns. Slowly I had come back to my normal sense. -- I should make no mistake; I must keep a distance from her. I should go to the south. Be careful; do not be trapped by irrational emotion. I said, "I must be back quickly. Let's just take a short walk." She asked, "Where should we go?" I said, "Follow you." She asked, "How did they treat you?" "Not bad." I feared to touch the topic. I knew once I started to expose my wound to her, emotion would rush out of the bottle, and I could not stop the flow of it. I asked: "How are you doing?" She said she just found a job in an office in a plant. "How is it?" "I am quite satisfied." "How are your parents?" "Mother finds a job. Father is the Head in his office. Sister is in middle school. -- Would you go to my home to take a look?" I shook my head. "Why not?" I could not answer. I feared to see anyone I knew. --If I meet one, I must meet two, then I must meet more, then I would be trapped here. We just walked side by side. She tried to be closer to me; I tried to shy away from her. I was battling with myself. Hundreds of hands were extending out from my chest; they wanted to seize her, to clench her in my arms and to melt her in my arms. I chopped off the hands.

We reached the center of the city. "Why not go to my home to take a look?" She kept asking. --How could I explain things to her? She would be the only one I would have to face here, and this was the only time we would meet. "At least you need to see me back home. It is too late." I hesitated for a while, I had to give in. -- I will not meet her parents. I will cool her down and leave her no any unrealistic hope that I would stay here. That is for her sake. I am not the type of person she has expected.

Most of the time we were silent. Suddenly I tumbled over a rock, she came over to hold my elbow, "How are your eyes?" "Fine." I pulled my hands out of hers. She was blue. All the happiness of seeing me a moment ago was replaced by the coldness created by me. My heart was twisting. I knew I was too cruel to her. But what else could I do?

We got to the compound her family resided in. I stopped by the gate, "I have to stop here." "Why not go inside? My mom has gone to sleep; my dad is on duty. Lingfang is at school." I hated to see her parents. I struggled with myself. -If nobody can see me, why not go upstairs just for not breaking her heart? She is an angel; she does not deserve the cold face of mine after so many years of waiting. "Please, go upstairs." She held my elbow and tried to drag me in. I felt silly; I did not know what was right for me: to listen to her or back up. She kept begging. Finally I gave in. She cheered up and dragged me to enter the gate. I followed her like a fool.

I was surprised to find that they had a very nice three-bedroom apartment. Five years ago, their whole family lived in one small dark room; the stove was in the corridor. This apartment was clean and bright. The ground was shining; the walls were sky-blue in the lower part and snow-white above the sky-blue. I looked around. I did not know where to put my feet. "Have you washed your face?" "Not yet." She immediately went to the kitchen and came back with a basin of warm water. "Wash." "No, I would wash after I go back." "It's ready." "I do not use warm water." "Oh?" She immediately took the basin back, "Could it be a little lukewarm? Too cold may not be good." "A little warm should be fine." Quickly she changed the water. "This is my towel." She picked up a towel with flowers on, dropped it in the basin. I had to wash. The towel had a very pleasant fragrance. After I finished washing, she came back from her room, opened a bottle of white cream, "This is for your face." I shook my head, "I am not used to that." "Try a little bit." She put some on her fingers, extended her fingers toward me; I had to open my palm. She touched her fingers on my palm and pasted the cream in the center of it. "It is good for your skin." I had to use it. She changed another basin of water and got another towel for me, "Wash your feet." I totally lost myself. I just followed her instruction. "Are you hungry?" --If I say yes, she will go to cook, then I will not be able to leave her home for the whole night. I insisted that I was not hungry. "It's very convenient to cook you something." She walked toward the kitchen. I stopped her firmly.

She circled around me, getting water for me, setting a chair for me and getting towels for me. After all of these, she got some photos of hers for me to view. She asked me to sit in a low armchair. She stood behind me explaining where and when the photos were taken. I could feel her sweet, warm and soft breath on my neck. I was drunken. She had been flying around me like a butterfly; her wings have been waving around me, touching my hands, my face and my heart. I could not hold on to being stiff. I did not hear what she was saying. I did not see much of her photos. Something lukewarm had over-flown from her, like lake water, had submerged me. I was licked by that soft lukewarm water from all sides. I could not keep awaken. There was a strong desire to drop myself in the water, to close my eyes, to let it feel me and let the flow take me to wherever it leads me to. What had I been dreaming for so long? What made me feel alone for so long? For I refused to surrender myself to this soft, warm fragrance of hers. That softness, warmth, sweetness of hers was what I had dreamed for. I was tired. I longed to drop myself in this soft lukewarm sweet liquid.

The opening of the door disrupted the dreamy atmosphere. In came her father. She took her hands off my shoulder. The lukewarm stream evaporated like smoke.

I stood up to greet her father. He had a tight brow and a big belly. He had not such an outbound belly before. Seeing me, he said coldly, "You are back. What are you going to do?" --This is interrogation. My wound was touched. -- I do not know what I shall do. I will leave for the south. For that, I do not have to tell him. I just wanted to run away from him to avoid being interrogated. I would avoid talking to anyone in this city. It was a great mistake for me to come to her home. I did not answer him, just said to Lingling, "I must go." "Do you want to bring some food or something else back to the hotel?" "No." She wanted to see me off. Her father scolded her, "Where are you going? So late!" She said, "See him out. I will be right back." He raised his voice, "It is too late to go out!" He stood there blocked her way. She walked around to the door and asked me to follow her. I had to follow her out. Before I said anything, she had shut the door behind, "Let's go." She pulled my hand. I was sad that she had to go against her father. I did not want her to be like that. It was not necessary. He did not want her to stay with me; I did not have the intention to stay with her. However I felt hurt. I was brought back to the reality. Sorrow and anger filled my heart. I said to myself: old man, I will leave your daughter alone. I will leave tomorrow, don't you worry!

Her father's attitude toward me made me determined to be harsh on her. She had tricked me to go to her home to run into her father. When we reached the first floor, I asked her to go back. She said no. I stood there; she stood there. A few people passed by. "People would feel weird if we just stand here. Let's go outside." said she. I had to follow her to move on.

"Your father will be mad. Are you afraid of him?" "Are you?" I nodded. Her father rarely talked to me. He seemed always lost in painful thinking. "Do not worry about him. I am no longer a kid." 

Out of the compound, I stopped again and urged her to go back. "I can not sleep. I want to take a walk with you. Would you please just let me take a walk with you?" "Your father will worry about that." "You used to be so decisive, forget my father. Let's go!" She dragged my hand, moved ahead of me. I became a fool again. I wanted to cry. -- No. I would not meet anyone else in this world. I would run away immediately to avoid getting more hurt. Just for her sake, I must leave her alone. I walked quickly, tried to keep her behind me. I felt sad for her and for our destiny.

We walked in the greenish streetlight. She tried to walk fast to keep pace with me. Abruptly she asked. "How old are you?" I hesitated, slowed down, "Twenty-five." "Have you ever thought of your own life? --What's your plan?" "Go to the south after I finish the paper work tomorrow." She seemed shocked, "Go to the south? You even do not want to see your father? How many days can he live? Have you ever thought that it is the time to have a family? Why don't you think something about yourself like others?" "What else can I do?" "There is always a way. If you want to do something, you can make it. You used to be so confident, why not now?" I wanted to kick some rocks. No rocks on the road, only the darkish shadow of trees. She stopped for a while, then said, "Now I have a job. I do not care about others. I am twenty-three. I have been waiting for someone. I cannot wait any longer. People around me do not allow me to. If you like, you can stay here. It will be wonderful? You are not young, neither am I. Don't you think it is time to think of something about yourself?"

She stopped walking. I had to stop and turn back. Her face was cold. She was going to cry. I did not know how to comfort her. Awkwardly I got close to her and had my hands on her waist. She turned toward me. I kissed her hair; she turned up her face, I kissed her lips lightly. After kissing her, I sighed, "Should I stay here?" "Why not! Where should you go? I am not going to push you to make a decision. It is up to you. I want you to stay. Your father and your brothers want you to stay."

I felt weak. I withdrew myself from her. I had crossed the line. I had made a foolish mistake. I should not have kissed her. It was such a tasteless kiss. I did not expect it to be so flat. The first kiss between us should be full of enthusiasm. It should ignite a fire in our mind and body. However, it was raining in my heart; I was all wet. I did not have mind to kiss her at that moment. But it seemed to be my duty to kiss her. It was an answer. I hated myself for that kiss.

"What is your opinion?" I must show my respect for her. "I think just for your father, you should stay." "I am afraid I have to stay -- for you." It was a dry decision followed a dry kiss. I did not know how I changed so fast. Two ways in front of me, I chose the easier one. What I feared most might not be anything else, but loneliness, the deadly loneliness. I had lived in it for so long; I had struggled with it for so long; I had a sense of sickness for so long. Now, she, a beautiful caring creature, would break my loneliness. ---What else could be more dreadful than loneliness?

"Not for me, but for your father! Can you stand leaving him at this stage of his life? Anyway, I think it is right to stay" I interrupted her, "OK, I will stay." "No, you must really like to stay. Not for anyone else, but for yourself." "OK, for myself." I surrendered. "Do you really think so?" I felt it was not me talking, "Yes, I really think so. I am afraid I cannot leave you now." "If you stay, I do not worry about anything. Now I have a stable job. We can find a way out. I believe in you. "

I heard no more of what she said. I just wanted her to leave me alone. I said, "OK, I know the way back. You can go back. Do you need me to see you back?" "I can not sleep. Let me see you to the hotel." I did not have the mind to argue with her to push her back. I did not want to say any more to her. We walked silently. When we arrived at the hotel, I stood by the gate, "Are you not afraid of going back alone?" "I had been walking like this every night. Do not worry." She turned back. It was almost twelve o'clock. Only a few people were lingering on the street. I was supposed to see her off, but I did not feel like to do that at the moment. I did not care what she thought of me.

Seeing her disappeared in the dark shadow in the turn of the street, I began to walk blindly on the street. I felt so bad. -- I am defeated. I am trapped by her; I have made a huge mistake. The foolish kiss! The foolish talk after the kiss! -- Is this a real decision? I can make it like a joke. I can say that I said that, just to comfort her temporarily. A decision that will affect the rest of my life could not be made in a few minutes. I need some time to think about it. -- How can I stay in this county for the rest of my life? How can I face all the cold faces like her father?

I went back to the hotel, sank into sofa again. Gong said, "Such a beautiful girl is waiting for you! You are really lucky! Seize her! Get married and settle down. I can tell she is going to bring you happiness!" I did not respond. I just sat there.

I did not know when I began paying special attention to her. The first image of her was a milky white face, a white shirt with light flowers and a pair of sky-blue cloth shoes. That was when she was only eight. She was like a lotus flower that just rose out of the water with pearl dew. At that time her family had moved to the county seat, she was staying at our home. I was supposed to look after her. One day, she insisted on going swimming. Mother asked me to take her to swim in the pond in front of our house. She had been sick for a while; she was weak. After she played in water for some time, her lips turned gray, her beautiful face turned colorless, but she still joyfully splashed water. I said it was time to get up. She said no. I begged her to get out of the water, she refused. Her face got paler, her lips got grayer. I had to drag her out of the water. She screamed, cursed me, kicked me, spat at me and scratched me; she used all her strength to struggle to go back. For her own sake, I bore the pain caused by her scratching and kicking, seized her two hands tightly to stop her from going back to the water. The white shirt stuck on her thin body; water was running down her long hair and her face. Her screams were so sharp. Her curse was unbearable. Mother rushed to the scene. She cursed me and tried to beat me. I ran away. I felt so deeply hurt when I heard her yelling at me, "I don’t want your care! Go to your mom! I hate you! You are not my brother! ?"

While I was in college and she was in the No. 1 High School in our county, in the summer I went to her home. She was a real angel then. Everything of hers was perfect. I was overjoyed to get her parents' permission to take her home. That was the most wonderful time in my life. Holding an umbrella in the sun, she walked with me across the fields. Villagers thought that I had brought my girlfriend back from the college. They could not recognize her. Only after I told them that this was Lingling, people came over to surround her. Everyone was praising her for her angel's beauty.

During the time she stayed at my home, she followed me like my shadow. I led her to the fields to work with father and brother. She had the little grass hat on. When I took off my shirt, she turned her back, ordered me to put it on, or she would never turn back. I had to put it on. I picked up a wild flower and sang, "I picked up a red rose to dedicate it to you, it means friendship and love ?" and put it on her hair. She brushed it away; a pink cloud flew over her cheeks. At another time, I placed two chairs in the bamboo garden and took her to sit in the cool shadow of the bamboo. We just chatted or looked into each other's eyes. In the third day my cousin came. This cousin was the only one among my eighty cousins who entered college. That afternoon he had to go to see his uncle, also my uncle, and asked me to go with him. I would like to spend some time with him for we had not seen each other for ten years. Ling refused to go with us. I sought her permission to depart from her for a while. She refused to let me go. I begged her, finally she said, "OK, you must be back today, or I will leave tomorrow." I promised her that I would be back on time. In the evening I was a little drunk and it was too dark, though I insisted going home, nobody allowed me to go. I stayed there for the night. The next morning, before daybreak, I went back home. She was ready to leave. She was so determined. I begged her not to go, she said she must. Nobody could persuade her to change her mind. I had to see her off.

The next time I saw her was when I graduated from college and decided to go home to be a peasant. She had just graduated from high school and did not pass College Entrance Exam because of poor math and English. I went to her home. Her parents told me she was working in the County Brewery as a temporary worker. They said why you did not accept the job assignment? If you worked in the county seat, we could share some of your light. Her father said, "You know how many people want to be a state teacher in No. 1 High School? If you go there to be a teacher, you can bring Ling back to the school. You are good at English and math, you can help her. What else can she do if she quit school?" I could not explain my plan to them. I just wanted to talk to her, hoping she could understand why I did so and persuade her to go back to school.

I took her father's bike to go to the plant.

In the workshop was piled dark yellow distiller's grain. It was terribly noisy. The odor was so strong that I felt my lungs itching. She had not yet reached sixteen, how could she work here! I must persuade her to quit! It was early August; go back to school to prepare for the next year's exam. No doubt she would pass!

She was standing behind a machine with her gray working uniform on, waiting for the hot grain to come out. All her attention was on the machine. A girl at her 20's was near her. Realizing that I was looking for her, the girl pushed her toward me. She gave me a glance, no smile. She bit her lips and slowly approached me, "Go home. Do not stand here." She yelled to reach me. I yelled back, "I will wait for you." "Please go by yourself. Please!" I had to go out and waited for her in front of the workshop. The noise and the odor from the workshop made me feel dizzy even though I was standing outside. Finally she came out with working clothes on her arm. She stood by the other side of the gate, just like she was waiting for somebody to come out. Till all the workers left, she slowly moved close to me. I asked her to sit on the backseat of the bike. She said she would like to walk, if you want to ride the bike, go your own way. I had to walk with her. There were some small red points on her face. "How are you doing?" I tried to smile. She said she was doing fine. I said it seemed you were not doing fine. How could you stand the odor there? It was harmful to your health. She said lots of people work there. I said, you should go back to school. She said I would never go back to school. "Why? Could you end your life in that plant?" She said, "Do you really care?" "Of course." "How about you? You really want to be a peasant?" "What do you think?" "I do not know. It's your decision. You must have a reason to do that." "Why don't you go back to school?" "I have been thinking of this for a long time. I need to support my family." "You cannot help your family by working here." "At least I can support myself. Not everyone can find a temporary job in this plant. --What other job can I have?" "That's why you must go back to school. Would you please rethink about it?" She retorted, "Could you rethink about your decision to be a peasant?" I did not know how to respond. We walked silently. I could not figure out a way to persuade her to change her mind. Till we got to her home we did not have much to say. She went to bed very early and the next day she went to work before I got up. I left her home the next day, full of sorrow. At the time I was fighting with everyone. Later I struggled to join the army. I failed joining the army. Then I left home.

Later she went to learn singing local opera from her aunt, a famous opera singer in our province. The week before I left for the army, she was at home. Her aunt's opera group was performing in our county seat. She sang before me. I was disappointed. She did not have the voice and it was too late for her to be trained to sing opera. She could never make a living out of singing the opera. Her parents just wanted her to get free meals at her aunt's home. At the time, one of her cousins was around her, thus we never had a chance to stay together alone. We did not have a formal farewell when I left for the barracks.

After I joined the army, she quit learning opera and found a job in a plant. She wrote long letters to me; sometimes I saw dried teardrops on them. Finally in one letter she said she wanted to marry me. At the time I just wanted to be a poet and I was afraid of tying myself to anyone. I wrote to her saying that I liked her, but sorry that I could not take her as my girlfriend; I would never marry anyone; please do not waste your golden time. Later she wrote to tell me that after she got that letter, she had cried several nights; in the end she made up her mind to wait for me. Since then she only wrote short letters to me, but she kept sending me packages of cigarettes and other little gifts. The year before, she mailed me a wool sweater, inside the sweater she had a note saying she had chosen the knitting wool and learned to knit by herself. She had tried to estimate my size by examining my brothers. That was the first sweater she had ever knitted; please forgive her for the poor quality. I said I would send her money for the knitting wool -- the knitting wool would cost her a whole month' salary. However I had never sent the money. The sweater was really warm. I was wearing it now.

The whole night I could not sleep. -- Twenty-five years old, it is time to get married. It is time to settle down. The dream is smashed. The whole world is bare; I can get no foothold on this bare earth. She is a foothold. Where can I find such a lovely girl, who is just ready for me to embrace, to kiss, to love, to care, and who has been waiting for years to embrace, to care and love me? Maybe it is not a bad idea to settle down in this small county, to marry her, to raise a kid, to own a small room, to split the room into two parts, one as kitchen and one as bedroom? But how could I make her happy? -- If there is love, what obstacle can not be overcome? For her love, for her blossoming youth and for my own sake, I should stay. I had so many dreams, none of them had been realized, only a headache accompanied me day and night all year long. Maybe here in her arms I will find peace. Give up dreams for a while, enjoy the earthly life. I can not stand the loneliness any more. I can not. There is a string tying us together. Now I am brought back naked to her. This is destiny. Give in, take her, and then try to see what else left in the pocket of God for me.

8. Brothers

 

The next morning, we went to the Office of Military Service. The director in the office said that they needed an official document that clearly stated the reason for discharging me. Gong had not brought the document with him. The director scolded him, "As an officer, you should know the rules! How can you come to us with your bare hands and ask us to take him? Please do not waste your time here!" Gong said the rules required them to send the dossier separately. He begged them to take me first and they would send the document later. The director with dark lips said, "Sorry, I have something else to do." He stood up and went out. Gong's smile was frozen on his face. We had to follow The Dark Lips out. The Dark Lips was stopped by an official. The official whispered something to him. The Dark Lips raised his head, said loudly, "They bring soldier home under escort." I was so upset: he thought I was a criminal. But I could not protest.

Just when we went out of the office, I saw Second Brother. He was standing by the wall on the other side of the street. His face was dark, his hair was yellowish; mud was all over his old overcoat. Seeing me, he seemed overjoyed. All his narrow, old-looking face had become wrinkled; that made him look more than forty years old. I felt my heart was hit by something hard. Suddenly I came to regret all I had done! -- He had all his hope in me; I should have remembered that my lot was not only my own! I had blown out his light, I had dashed his dreams. I just wanted to cry out to him: I am sorry, sorry, sorry!

He stood there, hesitating to move closer possibly because two officers were following me. Quickly I walked toward him.

"How did you get here?" No embrace, no hand shake. I put on a smile, spoke loudly, trying to be joyful. He told me Ling had brought them a message. He came here by the earliest bus. He went to Ling's home first and then came to see us in the hotel. He saw us in the office. He said Oldest Brother would come later in the morning. "How is father?" "He's gotten a little better. He does not believe that you are back. If you get home, he will be better." He smiled, exposing teeth blackened by tobacco tar. "You are fine?" He almost whispered. I kicked my feet; "Everything is fine!"

I introduced him to Gong and Zhao. Gong and Zhao came over to shake hands with him. He awkwardly extended out his hands to receive theirs. Gong and Zhao were tall and strong; he was short and weak; they were clean in bright military uniforms, he was dirty in the old overcoat with yellow mud. He was quite uneasy. I repeated that Gong and Zhao were my former colleagues (not military police). When Gong tried to chat with him, he blabbered in response -- he did not know how to speak standard Chinese. He just walked by me. I did not know what to tell him in the presence of Gong and Zhao. I asked him to go back to Ling's home. He walked by me to the hotel, then left.

I sank into the sofa again. The feeling of guilt and sadness seized me.

In the past five years, I had only seen Second Brother once. He came to the barracks three years ago on the way back from Dalian. Ji Mi, my neighbor, was an officer in Dalian and was said to know many people in that city. Brother went there with Ji's brother to ask Ji to locate temporary jobs. Ji Mi would take good care of his brother and mine. Ji Mi's brother was called "Northern Fool"; he was tall, big; he had stayed in grade one for three years. Ji did find jobs for them: helping construct buildings; eight yuan for a ten-hour work day. They slept in a simply constructed hut near the working site. Every day they only had bitter water (it was near the sea) to drink, and onion and steamed bread to eat. They were born to eat rice; they could not digest steamed bread. Near the work site, there was no restaurant. They were hungry all the time. In the night they could not sleep. It was too dry in the north. Their skin and their lips split. Their co-workers spoke a language they could hardly understand. Ji had dropped them there then disappeared. They could not reach him. After ten days, they felt they were going to die. To save their lives, the best strategy was to run away. After getting the pay for the first two weeks, they packed their quilts and came to see me. I had them stay in the best hotel (one of my home fellows was in charge of the hotel). I mobilized all my home fellows who were cooks to bring them good food. I felt sorry that I had no money to give him besides buying him the train ticket. I had asked my home fellows to give him some old clothes. The used clothes were the only thing that he could bring back home and would make the losses of the trip a little less costly.

Second Brother always wanted to work in cities and he did often locate jobs in cities. But he always ended up in getting no pay. The project managers who hired him always said that they themselves had not gotten paid, -- either the building they had constructed had collapsed, or the ditches they had dug were dug in the wrong location. All the project managers told similar lies and he could do nothing to force them to pay him.

However, brother kept going to cities to look for temporary jobs. Working in the cities, he never made money, only lost money: he had to pay the transportation fees and bring rice to feed himself -- he got no rice coupon to buy food in the cities. Perhaps, he just wanted to be part of the cities. As many peasants, he admired urban life. Working near cities, he could have a taste of urban life. Before the reform, peasants were prohibited from working in the cities; even if they wanted to visit their relatives there, they had to get a pass from the local government. Now they could enjoy the freedom of working in the cities as slaves. Maybe the hard labor and the little or no pay were not such big concerns to him.

He had been born at the end of the so-called "Three Years of Natural Disaster". He was two and a half years older than me. As long as I could remember he had been at best only as tall as I was. People had often thought that we were twins and that I was the big brother. The shape of his head was crooked, thus we called him "crooked mellow". When we were kids, mother, sister, and Oldest Brother often said that he had been picked up by the road at the foot of the mountain in front of our village. His real mother was a beggar who had dropped him there in a worn-out bamboo basket. We often told him to go back to his beggar mother. Whenever we said that, he would stop fighting or crying, just look around helplessly, tears in his eyes. His mother was not there; he would begin to sob.

When we entered middle school, he got shorter and thinner than me. He was often bullied by others and I had to fight for him. Sometimes I was furious when adults bullied him in front of me and I could do nothing to help him. Once, Ji Mi, Second Brother and I went to steal watermelons. An idiot in the Plant Brigade, whose nickname was Fox, shouted at us and chased us. We all ran from the fields into the trees, but brother was a little slower. He was so scared that he just took off his trousers to pretend to pass stool in the trees. And he really had stool. The guy found him, slapped him, and kicked him to sit in his stool. Brother cried for help. We came back to the scene as observers; we knew that guy had not seen us clearly. Seeing him beating brother, I was so mad. I wanted to jump at him, threw rocks at him, break his head and kill him! Ji Mi eyed me, I eyed him; if I initiated the attack, he would follow, brother would follow also, but I didn't. That guy was too strong. If we attacked him, the three of us could beat him and run away, but I feared that guy would capture brother. I felt bad about this for the rest of my life. Years later I still wanted to seek revenge for that, but that guy had been expelled from the plant. We never saw him after I had grown strong enough to beat him myself.

Although brother was short, thin and weak, he was extraordinarily good at catching fish and digging lotus roots. He knew the secret! -- Standing in the water, he suppressed his joy, hid his two hands in the water, then with a yell he raised his hands above his head with a fish splashing water! I often felt in the water for hours without getting anything, but he got a fish every other minute! After school, we often went to steal lotus roots in the small pond on the way home. He took off all his clothes, jumped into the cold water and dove under the water to get the lotus roots in the mud in the deep parts. I could not stand the cold water; I just hid under a tree, held his clothes, and watched like a sentry. In a while he would get out of the water with several snow-white lotus roots! Then we ran away from the pond to enjoy the sweet, juicy lotus roots! -- How much enjoyment we had had together!

When we were in second grade in middle school, both father and mother often got sick. They often got no working points. In our family, only sister, at the age of eighteen, was the chief laborer in the brigade. My family owed money to the brigade. It was the time that Oldest Brother needed to spend money on finding a wife. At the time, brother and I had big bellies. It often happened that we got nothing to eat. Eldest brother had some connection in the brigade. The plant brigade needed one kid to help raise ducks for six working points a day (a strong adult got 10 points a day). Eldest brother managed to get Second Brother the job. Second Brother was so excited to earn working points as an adult. I really admired him because for the time being, he did not have to starve. The duck raisers had enough rice to eat. At that time he was only fourteen. With the long bamboo stick over his shoulder, he yelled loudly to drive a flock of ducks around. Unfortunately in the late autumn, the brigade sold all the ducks; he lost his job. The plant brigade would not take him as an employee. He was too short. And it was not worth it to work in the village for two working points a day. He had to go back to school. He had lost half a year; he could not stay in the same grade as I was. When I entered grade two in high school, he was just entering grade three in the middle school in the town. After one month in the middle school, he got sick. He stayed in bed for a whole week with a high fever. The next week he recovered, but he had a headache. He feared going back to school because he had missed too many classes and was afraid of being bullied. I reassured him that if he fell behind, I could help him out; and that I would break the fingers of anyone who dared to touch him. My school was only a few hundred meters away from his. He said he was afraid of his head teacher. Then I went to see his head teacher. The teacher said to me that brother only performed so-so and had no hope of entering high school. Why not let him to stay home and earn some working points? I was mad at the teacher. I knew there was a performance competition in all the classes and no head teacher liked a student below average to stay in his class. What's more, it was he who had to take the responsibility to collect the tuition fees. They hated the poor students who could not turn in the tuition fees. I said, anyway, he would be back. For his performance, I would help him. He said, "He did not turn in the fee. If he wants to come back, bring in the fee first." I tried to borrow money. It was only a few yuan, but it was not a small amount for me. Nobody in my family supported me in the struggle to get him back in school. In the end, I had to turn to Eldest Brother for help. He scolded me, "He has no chance of entering college. Why should we waste the money? If you want him to go back to school, you pay the fee!" I tried hard; still I could not get the money. Thus he became a helping hand at home.

He was very good at math; he could have entered a secondary school and been an accountant or something like that to make a decent living. Quitting school was the reason why he was fooled by others again and again. My family had spent their limited resources on me in the sacrifice of him in the expectation of advancing me to make good to help the family out. At the time, our poor family could only support one person capable of achieving something. The whole country had the same educational policy; at the time, even the disabled were deprived of the right to attend high school or college. The limited resources were spent on those selected to get the most efficient utilization of the resources. Those not capable of developing great productivity were ignored. Actually, it was those who had no natural endowment who needed a better education to enhance their capability, or they would never develop the skills they needed to change their destiny.

Now he was twenty-eight years old, he had passed the golden time to get married. He might be single for his whole life. I had promised him that I would help him out of hot water, now I was in hot water myself! I cursed myself in my heart: "You wanted to be a hero? How stupid you were! You forgot where you came from. You are an animal! You should have come back home every year! "

A knock at the door interrupted my thought. It was Eldest Brother. We stood up to welcome him. He rushed in, grasped Gong's hands, shook and shook and did not let them go, like Gong was his greatest friend who he had been separated from for a long time; then he grasped Zhao's hands. His face was crowded with a humble, flattering smile. He tried to speak Mandarin; he called them "respected senior officers". He mistook Yao as a superior to Gong and kept holding his hands and pouring out his flattery on him. Zhao was only a volunteer soldier -- his officer's uniform had been borrowed from someone. A soldier was prohibited from wearing an officer's uniform, but they had wanted him to put some air into scaring my home fellows. I had to tell him which one was Gong. At once he dropped Zhao's hands to seize Gong's hands again and said humbly: "Beloved senior officer, sorry that my brother brought you so much trouble! I represent my family to apologize to you. We are grateful to all your help. Without your kind help my brother would not be here today. You are our precious guests from far away; if it was not for this event even if we invited you to come to our home you would not be able to make it. Now you have come. Though we poor villagers have nothing good to treat you with and we poor villagers do not know the etiquette, we would like to invite you to our cold hut to be guests."

I felt embarrassed for what he said. But I did not stop him.

Gong had just hurt his nose at the office of the Military Service. Now his eyes began to shine again from the flattery. He held brother's hands and said, "We would like to see Cai Zheng's parents. We deeply regret that we have to let go such a good comrade. He did a good teaching job in our troop. We believe he will find a good position anywhere. We would like to recommend him to the local government; we will ask them to make good use of his expertise."

Gong was eager to get rid of me, so he could go to travel around at the expense of the academy; now he assigned himself a job: recommend me to the local government. Brother captured this, "We, as Cai Zheng's family, will be grateful if you can recommend him to our county government. They do not know what my brother had achieved in the barracks; and our county leaders especially value the opinion of the military leaders. Your recommendation will pave a smooth way for my brother. I, represent my whole family, thank you!" He distorted his voice to speak Beijing dialect; it sounded so awkward. Still, "The beloved senior officers" were like plants dying of drought that had just gotten water.

I was surprised that Eldest Brother had become so tiny. He had been big and strong in my mind. He seemed to have shrunk. His face has become like the skin of a jujube tree. A ripped part of his shirt flapped forward from his sleeve, he tried to tuck it in, but it stubbornly flapped out again.

I had expected him to rebuke me harshly as before, so far he did not. After a warm chat with Gong and Zhao, he said he would go home first. He insisted that Gong and Zhao go to our home to be the precious guests. Gong promised to go. He left without talking to me; it seemed that I was not existent.

After he left, Gong said, "If you had only learnt something from your brother! --You should always consult him in the future and you will never have any trouble! He knows a lot!"

I did not comment. Eldest Brother always struck people with a good first impression. I had disliked him since I could first remember.

When I was a kid, Second Brother and I often ran from one village to another to ask those local emperors to come to our home to eat. I had been starving; I had fastened the cloth belt of my trousers several times; the skin on my stomach had touched my spine; my feet were shaking. All those damn earthly emperors would never come on time. They just wanted to show they were important and they were not eager to eat at your home. The later they come, the more important they were. When I went to those emperors' homes, I would say as I was taught, "My brother hopes to you to have a seat at our home." -- no mention of "eat". Everyone would say, "I will come in a minute!" But hours later, they still had not shown up. Eldest Brother would yell at me or Second Brother, "What did you say to them? Go to beg them again! If they do not come, do not come back!" We had to run to their homes to invite them twice and thrice. Finally the guests were all around the table. Mother had cooked all the good stuff we had. Those hungry guests began to eat. I and Second Brother helped washing vegetables, cleaning bowls and bringing bowls full of food to the table; sister and father were helping in the kitchen; only Eldest Brother accompanied the precious guests in eating at the table. He kept distributing cigarettes and pouring liquor in their cups. He often ran out of cigarettes or liquor; then I had to go to the small grocery store to borrow some more. I had to go to school. "Go there a little later!" Eldest Brother would yell at me. Sometimes when I was bringing the dish from the kitchen to the table, I could not stand eating only the smell of the food. At the turn from kitchen to the dinning room, I would snap a piece of meat, thrust it into my mouth at lightening speed and swallow it without chewing. If mother happened to see that, she would slap me on the mouth and deprive me of the privilege of being the waiter. Then I could only stealthily look at those emperors, like a hungry dog looking at people eating. The sweetness of the food twisted my stomach. Occasionally, one kind guy would pick up a piece of meat or something with his chopsticks, wave it at me, saying, "Take this!" Seeing the meat, I got excited. Brother or mother would rush in to rescue the piece of meat from falling into my mouth, "Go away! Don't hang around here!" Then turned to the guy with a sweet smile, "Please eat the food yourself and enjoy it. Don't spoil him!" Sometimes, I was able to rush forward, grab the offered piece and run out of the room before they intervened.

The party secretary, the vice secretary, the accountant in our brigade, all the cadres in our commune, the clerk in any store in the town who came to our village to "support agriculture" were all considered superior to Eldest Brother and could possibly help him this way or that way. All of them must be invited to eat at our home regularly. We did not know how important those guests were; we only knew from Eldest Brother that everyone was crucial, and the next eating-party was even more important; it was a must! Even if we had to sell our blood to buy food, we should sell it! Whenever there was an eating-party at our home, the whole family would be mobilized. Money was borrowed to buy liquor, cigarettes or meat; eggs were borrowed from neighbors. The fish we had caught, the peanuts we picked up in the fields, or the little pig that died of illness were all shifted to the big holes widely open above the shoulders of those important cadres. All year long, we only had rice porridge to drink. In autumn, we didn't even have any rice porridge; we only had sweet potatoes. Due to poor nutrition, I often felt dizzy, father spat blood, and mother had a headache three hundred and sixty-five days a year. All my family had to support Eldest Brother to bribe those emperors. He was the beam of the family. If he could become a state teacher, our family would finally have one iron bowl.

We called Eldest Brother "Foreign Great Fool" behind his back. He always bragged how close he was to whom, and how important that "whom" was! One day he had invited a young soldier who came from far away to visit his remaining relatives in the next village to eat at our home. Like almost everyone else in our village, Eldest Brother had just got to know him. To treat the soldier our whole family jumped into pre-war preparation. The only reason for the royal treatment was that the soldier's uncle was a general stationed in Xingjiang! How glorious brother was! For he could invite a general's nephew to our home to be a guest! That guy spoke a language we could hardly understand, and he called Eldest Brother "Comrade Cai". Comrade Cai served the soldier like the humblest servant in the world you could have ever found and he forced all our family to behave exactly like him.

He had used all his intelligence in licking others' ass to reach his goal; he believed that the best way to change his destiny was to lick others' asses. I hated more to see him behave like a lord before all those who he considered to be inferior to him. He always told me about those who got advancement because they were good at pleasing their superiors, and those who lost their positions because they did not know this secret of success. His back was a little hunchbacked; I often ridiculed him by saying that it was because he bowed too often in front of his superiors. Since I had entered high school, whenever we had a chance to be together, we would quarrel. He always tried to find faults with me. To him, all my behavior was wrong. I was spoiled by father; I was childish; my attitude toward superiors determined that I was doomed to be a failure. To succeed in this society, you had to learn those skills of licking the asses of those who were superiors, or you would never get the chance to move up. Once you have moved up, you would enjoy the same service from those inferiors to you. This is it! This is the society! If you do not listen to me, you will run into walls; you will break your head, spilling blood all over your face! I would yell at him: go away with your survival skills of mice! It is disgusting! You know all those skills and you have practiced them so long, what have you got? Why not use the intelligence of licking other's asses to learn to be an excellent teacher? He would yell back: the book of society is the real book! Me? I was unlucky! My future was ruined by the timing! By stupid father! By our uncle! I tell you all of these things just for your own sake! Nobody else will tell you these things! You are heading into walls. One day you will realize how correct I am!

After years of bribing the local emperors, he did not succeed in changing his status. One time, he really touched a switch somewhere above. The "above" sent a cadre to ask him to fill out a form to become a state teacher. The cadre then asked some representatives of the old peasants to testify about the family's history and had him "politically examined". Later, it turned out that he was not qualified. The testimony about my uncle by a representative raised problems. No one knew for sure whether my uncle had been killed by the Communist Party or by the counter-revolutionaries. The problem was possibly because brother had never invited the poor peasants to eat at our home. In 1978, at the age of 30, finally he decided to rely on himself to change his status. He studied day and night to prepare for National Secondary Technical School Entrance Examination. He passed the entrance exam, but he failed the political examination again! The family history blocked his way. After that, he had to get married. Since then he had no way to change his destiny by inviting local emperors to eat or by taking the exam. He could only wait with the hope that some day the government would kindly allow him to become a state teacher.

Although I always disliked him, he must have loved me more than just as a brother. He was sixteen years older than I was. As a teacher in our village school, he put me in the team of art, so I could learn to play an instrument. When the school set up a team to go out to study gymnastics in the expense of the brigade, he put me in the team again. When I was expelled from the local high school, he put me back in the village middle school and changed my name, so that I could reenter high school the next year. When I was in high school, he exploited all his connections to do some favors for my teachers for my sake. When I wanted to join the army, although he fiercely opposed it the first year, the next year he mobilized all his connections to help me. When I was in the army, he constantly wrote me to preach his philosophy of life, persuaded me to practice it to advance myself. I threw all his letters in the garbage basket whenever he proceeded to teach me his ass-licking philosophy.

I felt sorry for him. Now he was more than forty years old. For years he got no pay for teaching. Before the reform, he got working points from the brigade; after the reform, the brigade became the village. The village must collect money from the peasants to pay the peasant teachers. The village could not collect the money.

My two brothers made me so blue.

The next day, just after I moved my bags to Lingling's home, an officer from our academy met us at the hotel. We went to the Office of Military Service and finished the paper work. When we were back at the hotel, Ling was there waiting for us go to her home to have dinner. She asked me to invite Zhong Bo, a classmate of mine who was the head of the Office of English Teaching in the Bureau of Education. She led my former colleagues to her home first.

I was surprised that her family had prepared so many dishes and amazed at Lingling's capability of mobilizing her parents. Her father had changed into another man. That day he appeared unusually warm and talkative. He took out a bottle of very precious liquor. He said that he had been grudging opening it, now he would like to open it for the precious guests from far away. Zhong Bo was a good drinker; her father asked Zhong Bo to be the lead drinker. Ling served as a waitress: brought out the dishes, handed us towels for us to clean our hands and poured tea into our cups repeatedly.

We turned back to the hotel with everyone half-drunk. We planned to go to my home the next day. Ling and her mother would go to my home on a separate bus. They would buy some vegetables to bring to my home. The whole night, I could not sleep. I did not know how I was going to face father and all the people at my home village.

 

 

10. Landing

 

Five years ago, when I stood on the top of the slope and looked back, father was still standing outside the village looking at me. At that time, I was spreading my wings to fly to the outside world, full of ambition and hope. Now, with the overcoat, the leather shoes, I felt as if I was a big chunk of rock.

Getting close to the village, I was shocked at the lowness and smallness of everything in the village! They looked like a simply constructed country toilet in my mind. The pond in front of the village also looked so small. A strange feeling rose in me

As we got close to the village, dogs began barking. People slowly collected in front of Oldest Brother's house. Many kids ran toward us, then silently stood by the road with shy smiles; no kid said anything to greet me. I recognized my niece. She was eight. With an awkward smile, she hesitated to greet me. When I left home, she was only three; she was fatty, full of energy and always laughing; she did everything I asked her to do: lie down, sit up; one, two, three ? even her hair was all wet, she still wanted to do more. A little boy with a naughty smile attached to her. I could tell that he was my nephew. He was more than two years old. -- How fast time had flown! I had been ignorant to the pass of time! I had been living on the bank of the running river of time. I greeted my niece. She bit her lips, and blushed. I asked the little boy by her, "Are you Lei?" The little man answered loudly, "Yes, I am Cai Lei! Where is your gun?" I picked him up and held him in my arms. This little guy was very heavy. He said, "They said you have a gun. Show me, man." I said, "I will buy you a fake one." He said: "If you have no gun, what's the hell they call you Liberation Army Man?"

Oldest Brother rushed forward to welcome my colleagues: "You brought glory to us! We poor villagers do not know how to treat you precious guests. Please forgive us for that?" My colleagues were invited into his house. Oldest Brother's house was so narrow. The earth floor was wet and dark. There were only a few chairs in the room. I felt a little embarrassed to show my colleagues the poverty of our family.

When someone who had left home for a long time came back, the family should distribute candy to villagers. Sweet candies brought good news to everyone; it created an atmosphere of happiness in the small village. Though my return was not something worthy celebrating, I had brought with me some candy. Putting down my nephew, I gave my sister-in-law the candy and asked her to distribute it.

Quickly, brother's house was crowded with ragged-clothed villagers. "Congratulations! Congratulations!" Almost everyone was shouting. I got confused: why were they congratulating me? Everyone was eager to examine me closely and asked me how they treated me. An old lady, who was the former brigade leader's wife, whose son was an officer, rushed forward, brushed aside everyone, said loudly, "Let me take a look at our son! Our hero! Let me take a look at him!" She still had some authority in the village. She held my hands, tears in her eyes, cried, "Congratulations, son! All of us worried so much about you! We thought we had seen you in the TV! We had begged Buddha to protect you! Buddha did bless you! How wonderful! -- How many people got killed? The bastards, they killed students! They are no better than Kuomingtang. ---Only that dwarf, that son of bitch dared to do that! -- Are you all right? We are so pleased to see you back, son!" Brushing aside her tears, she turned to mother, "Is it true? We had told you that your son had his good luck. Some noble men had come to his rescue! Now you should worry no more! Buddha always protects the righteous!" The other old lady, who was one of the grandmas, cleared her tears, said, "Son, we talked about you day and night. We saw you grow up. You are a kind boy, straight, fight with others for justice! You have brought glory to our village! We are proud of you! Your parents should be proud for having a great son like you! You will have a great fortune! You will!" All of them had tears in their eyes. Mother kept raising the corner of her coat to clean her tears.

One neighbor yelled loudly, "It is a joyful moment! We should be happy! Why are you all crying? -- We knew Zheng will come back safe!" She turned to me, " 'Survive disaster, you will have a great future!' Our small village is in your hand! We rely on you to change our destiny! ?"

Seeing the tears and hearing what they said, I could not help my tears; I tried to laugh, to let them turn me around to examine me. Let them grasp my hands, touch my back, feel my arms to make sure that I was all right. I had been worried so much for that they would blame me for participating in the "counter-revolution." Now I was relieved.

Second Brother also came, now his smile became natural. I did not see father. Mother told me that he was in our old house. I broke away from them, rushed to the old house.

My old house was in the west side of the village. I must cross the bushes in the back of the village to go there. The road from Oldest Brother's house to our old house was full of mud. It must have rained for a long time. The mud, mingled with manure of cattle and pigs, was more than one foot deep in the main road. Without boots, it was very hard to move forward.

In front of our house, the bamboo garden was still dark green. That cheered me up a little bit. The small piece of ground in front of our house was all mud; it looked like a rice field ready to be planted. The door of our house was half closed. I pushed it open. A strong odor of decay and bull's excrement overwhelmed me. I opened the door widely to let in some light. Father was sitting in a low chair hugging a fire jar by the back of the door. A homemade towel was tied around his waist. He still wore the old military trousers brought to us by a general. I had worn the trousers in high school. The black cotton-padded shoes were those I often wore to go to piss in the night when I was a kid. The socks were those I asked brother to bring back home. The waist of the trousers was tied with a black cloth belt.

Father seemed to be in a dream. I had my hands on his shoulder; he raised his head to look up. His face was gray. His eyes were not clear. He asked in a voice as weak as ash, "Is it Young?" I tried to be as happy as I could, "Yes! I am back!" I spread my laugh to drive away the sorrow rushing in from all the corners of my heart. "Are you back?" His voice was hardly heard. "Yes, I am back! Look! I am all right!" I squatted down, held his hands. His big hands were cold and rough. Running water was hanging down from his nose. He did not have enough clothes; he had no more clothes to put on. The little fire jar did not help. I took off my army overcoat to put it on him. He raised his hands to clean his tears with his palm. With a crying voice, he said to himself, "It is Young. Young is back. -- Have had breakfast?" "Yes, I had. Let's go to brother's house." Seeing his tears, I laughed more loudly. I could not stand the overwhelming sorrow. I must bring him to the crowd to let the atmosphere of joy there brush away his sadness.

"Stand up, let me carry you on my back." I could not let him be eroded by loneliness, sadness and cold. He said he had no rain shoes. I asked him to put down the fire jar to let me carry him on my back. He said no. I dragged him to stand up, pull his hands over my shoulders and used my hands to hold his buttocks. We started out.

It was so hard to walk on the muddy road. If it was only myself, I could zigzag in the trees and jumped around to avoid the deep mud. Now I had to stand still, looking ahead to choose the best place to put my feet. Sometimes I had to turn back a little bit for the mud was too deep to cross. In the middle of the way father insisted walking by himself. I just did not let him go. I would not let go the opportunity to carry him on my back. ---Till I was twelve, almost every night it was him who washed my feet and carried me on his back to go to bed; when I got sick, it was him who carried me on his back to climb mountain after mountain to seek doctors. Now it was my turn to carry him on my back. No matter how hard it was to walk, I would not put him down. I yelled in my heart: father, I am sorry, I am sorry.

It was slippery everywhere. I clenched my teeth to struggle to prevent myself from falling with him. When we reached brothers' house, my hair was all wet with sweat; my shoes were all covered with mud.

People surrounded father at once. Gong came to shake his hands. Villagers, one after another, came to shout at his ears, "You should smile now! You should be proud of your son!" "He is safe. Buddha has taken care of him! Buddha will always take care of the kind. Do not worry, he would have good fortune!" "Deaf man! What a son you have! He brings glory to our village!" "?"

A smile slowly crept onto father's face.

Neighbors brought some chairs to Oldest Brother's house; several women volunteered to help sister-in-law to cook; some men stayed to chat with my colleagues.

In a while, Ling and her mother arrived. Ling's mother carried a bag full of vegetables, meat, mushrooms and duck eggs. Their arrival brought more joy to the gathering. Ling only came back home seven years ago, then she was a fifteen-year-old girl, now she was a beautiful woman. She was so warmly welcomed by the villagers. The room was full of loud talk and laughter.

Oldest Brother had prepared too much food. There was no need to treat my former colleagues so generously. They just came to hand me over to the local government to wash their hands of me. However brother took them as someone critical to change my destiny in the future. I said nothing to expose the truth. The atmosphere of happiness the feast brought forth was the best medicine for father. It diluted something that I feared most.

There were at least twenty different bowls of food. Brother had prepared some of them one day earlier and the cooks were really good at their jobs. Brother invited a neighbor of ours to be the leading drinker to persuade my colleagues to drink. Usually there was no seat for father at brothers' guest table. Though father could not eat, I insisted on putting him in a chair by the table. Since Ling refused to sit at the table, I too did not sit at the table.

Gong had obviously cheered up. He said he had told the local government that I was a talent; they should employ me as a talent, not discriminate against me, for I only violated the military principle. They really regretted losing such a great comrade. The leading drinker, translated and broadcast Gong's key sentences to father by yelling at father's ear. Father just listened; the meaning of the words obviously seeped into his heart; the bitterness on his face slowly disappeared. He only murmured, "You flattered him." Gong said that he was pleased to know that the people here were so well-informed; they worried most was that the people in the Generals' County, far away from Beijing, might not know the truth, might treat me as someone who had committed a crime. Now they were relieved. He would report to the leaders about my situation; those concerned about me would feel relieved too.

Brother said, "Please tell those who cared about my brother: they have done enough, now it is our turn to take care of my brother." 

After the meal, my colleagues left. More and more villagers rushed in to see me. Some were from nearby villages. They were curious about what really happened at Tiananmen Square. "We do not believe the news. They are fooling us. You know the truth, please tell us: how many people got killed?" I said I did not know. They said: what are you afraid of? Have they threatened you not to tell the truth? Tell it! Who could do harm to you? Everyone is mad at them! The corrupt officials seize power, they killed innocent people who criticized them. I said I really did not know; I was not at the spot at the time. They just shook their heads. They told me that even Qing Qiwei, the Minister of Defense, our home fellow, did not agree to open fire. He came back home last April. When he was asked whether the government would fire at students, he said: we would never do that; please tell all county fellows not to worry about that; the army belongs to the people; we would never have our guns pointed at our people!

Oldest Brother said, "We knew it is going to be re-appraised. Now you are a criminal, later you are a hero. Everyone knows that. Even Mr. Gong said so." I had not heard Gong said that. However I was relieved to know that all villagers took me as a hero instead of a criminal.

Villagers constantly came to yell at father by his ear to praise me. Father listened, closed his eyes, and seemed trying to fathom the real meaning of what they said. His face, like a dying oil lamp light with infusion of oil, got brighter. Still he was not drunk with the praise. After all the villagers left, he asked, "How are you going to make a living?" That was the question I feared most. I did not know the answer; it gave me a headache to think about it. I just said, "Do not worry! I will find a way!"

Ling's mother would stay in her friends' home for the night. Ling would stay in our old house in Second Brother's room. I would like to let her to spend some time with father. What she said might work more effectively on father.

When she was in our old house, she put her mouth close to father's ear, "Don't you worry. We will take care of it. Look, how strong he is! He can do everything, -- even replace the bull to pull the plow!" She looked at me, blinked her eyes, two dimples appeared on her face. Father got what she said; a smile climbed onto his face, "Yes, if he listens to you, I will not worry; but I worry that he will be a burden to you." "No, I would be his burden. He has wide shoulders; he can shoulder everything." She giggled, "He only listens to you. He will do whatever you tell him to do." Father said, "He should have his own family. It is time for him to listen to his woman." Ling eyed me, "Who are you going to listen to? Are you going to listen to me?" "Have I gone against you?" She did not respond, but turned to father's ear, "Anyway, if he does not listen to his wife, she will come to you for help." Father said to Ling, "Seeing you two together, I feel sweet. I really do not have to worry about him." Ling turned to me again, "You see, do not make your father worry. It is time for you to listen to someone and not to do whatever you want to do."

While we were talking, brother brought in the water bull. Like an African elephant, the bull staggered in. He made a loud noise from his nose and waved his long watery tail. His feet pounded the ground, making the ground vibrate. He scratched the table with his huge belly. We all had to give way to his majesty. He entered the room next to the room Ling was going to stay for the night. Fortunately it was winter, its odor was not that strong. Still it stunk.

Oldest Brother came out of the room after he tethered the bull inside. The bull breathed heavily and kept kicking the ground inside the room.

I asked Oldest Brother, "How could you let a bull live with us in one house and let it walk through the dining room?" He said, "No other place to keep it. We share the bull with two other families. In turn we take care of it. If we put it in a separate house, it will be stolen. Too many thieves. Who dares to put it in a separate house?" "Why not open another door on the side wall of the house, so that the bull does not have to walk through the dining room?" No, brother said, the thief would easily enter the room through that door.

While we were talking about him, the bull began rubbing against the wall. I feared that the wall would fall down. "How could you stand this?" I asked Second Brother. He said everyone kept their bull in their house. It was OK in winter, it was horrible in summer; in summer it attracted too many mosquitoes and the odor of his excrement and urine were too strong.

Ling did not say anything about the bull. She just kept spreading her light all around the gloomy room. Her presence in my home told father that my future was bright. Father believed that girls have sharp eyes, especially pretty girls; they know who is going to have good fortune and they would make the right choice. Before going to bed, we could not see any sign of sickness on father's face. He smiled at Ling, "I am really pleased that you are with him. What did I worry about? -- At this age he has not got married. If he gets married, I will close my eyes happily." I looked at Ling, "Would you like to help me to get my father free of worrying for me?" She said, "It is up to you."

In the night, Second Brother and I shared the same bed with father. We slept in one bed in the same position as before: father headed north, brother and I headed south. The bed was too narrow for us now. The same bed, the same quilt made of homemade cloth, colored by soaking it in yellow mud. This quilt had lasted more than twenty years. As usual, we put the fire jar inside the quilt to warm it up. When we were young, father often held my feet in his hands, drew them close to his stomach and sighed, "as cold as iron!" Now his feet were as cold as iron. I tried to hold his feet to my chest to warm them up a little bit. Feeling his cold feet, I felt the rising waves of sorrow.

I could not sleep. When it got quiet, I got up, put on the overcoat and went out of the room.

It was pitch-dark in the main room. I felt my way to sit in the armchair by the wall. I looked into the darkness surrounding me. -- Five years has passed by. Here I am! Nothing has been changed for good. Since I was a child, I believed that I was born to be somebody. I had a plan: I should be something at the age of 20, then be something else at the age of 25. Now I am nearly 25. I am still nobody. I come back home like this. How could I forgive myself?

I opened the door. The bamboo plants in front of the house looked like ghosts. They were waving their long black hair, jumping up and down, struggling to stretch out their black claws to seize me. It was really scary. I dared not to look outside. I closed the door. The hens were making sad noises in their little room by the corner of the house. The bull was chewing rice stalks. I retreated to sit in the corner of the room.

-- At the moment, the hills are cold, the water in the pond in front of our house is cold; fishes are hiding in the deepest water; the fishes may hide by the edge of the pond where trees can block the wind; the water there may be a little warmer. ?.. Do the little birds hidden in the bamboo in front of our house feel cold? Burying their heads under their wings, they have fallen asleep, mother, father and kids, all together. A little wind would shake them, disturb their dream. -- Now, besides our body warmth, is there any warmth in this world?

It was in this room, six years ago, I raised chickens. I woke up to feed them every night. They missed something; they got blue and weak. They refused to eat, and died one after another. I could do nothing to prevent them from slipping away. It was in this room; I studied by the small desk during the night. Father often put out his head by the door of our bedroom to look at me, reminding me that it was too late; mother would yell at me for I had used too much lamp oil though I had tried to make the stick of the bottle lamp as small as possible. To study hard was the only way for me to jump out of this hut, this village, this absolute poverty and desperation. All the people living around me were living as animals. I could not stand the hard work in the fields; I wanted to be a writer, to speak for the peasants, to let the world know the poor living condition of the peasants.

-- Here I am a peasant again. They have deprived me of everything. They knew this was the best punishment for me. But what have they really deprived me of? I have everything by my side; Ling is more than all I need. She does not care about my status. She only cares that I am I. She is the boat in a roaring river I am thrown in.

I knocked on her door. She turned on the light, opened the door. She was in pink sleeping clothes with several layers. I embraced her. She was soft and hot. She hugged me as tightly as I hugged her. Only by clenching her in my arms, I felt safe.

The next morning mother had two bowls of noodles and fried eggs ready for Ling and me. Right at the moment when Lingling was coming to sit by the table, pa-pa-pa! -- the bull began to move his bowels. The sound of it made me nauseous. Ling pretended not to hear it. Mother urged us to eat. There were three eggs on the top of the noodles. I asked: where were father and brother's bowls? Mother said, it was only for you and Ling. Father and brother would have their own noodles later. I said, let's eat together. Then mother put several bowls on the table, no eggs in those bowls. I got out the eggs in my bowl and put them in theirs. Ling got out all of the eggs in her bowl.

Mother said, the eggs were given to you two by our neighbors. I said to Ling, "You must eat at least one, that is a ritual for my future wife." She looked at me, "If I eat the egg then I would be that?" I said, yes. She said, “then I will eat it”.

I pointed to the room in which the bull was breathing loudly, "Would you like to share the house with my parents, my brother, and that bull?" Ling said, "If you would like, no problem for me." "I cannot share the house with the bull. I used to live with pigs, dogs, chickens under one roof, no problem. How could we live with such a huge beast, whose urine would make the floor flooded and one time it gave a hill of excrement? How weird that social progress made here is that the bull has entered to live with people in their houses!" "What can you do? Sell the bull and pull the plow by yourself?" "I do not know why they still fully rely on bulls to till the fields. Satellites are flying in the sky, spaceships are sailing in the space, and we are still relying on the five-thousand-year-old bull-pulled plow to make the fields! No, I cannot stand this! I would like to plow the fields by myself rather than living under one roof with the bull!" She giggled, "You cannot replace the bull." I had to admit she was right.

Father could eat now. But he refused to eat the eggs. Ling and I insisted that he must eat them. He said, "What's the use for me to eat good food? You need to eat to be strong." All smiling, Ling went close to his ear, "Do not worry for us, especially not for him. He is so strong that he has extra energy to make trouble! -- Eat yourself!" He sighed and tried to clean his eyes, "I am really happy to see you two together. Really. I would close my eyes and mouth gladly if I die right now."

After breakfast, Ling must go back to work. She left with her mother. She was tearing her from me. She asked me to come to her home as soon as possible.

After Ling left, all my family got together. Father asked, "Are they going to assign you a teaching job? If so, you should hurry up to go to the county seat." It seemed that he did not know what my real status was. I had to tell him the truth: no job would be assigned to me. He was shocked, "Why? What are you going to do then?" I said I was going to find a job. "Why do you still stay at home? Why not go to ask them right now!" -- Ask them? Who are "them"? I did not know how to respond. He asked, "Is Lingling going to marry you?" "I don't know." "I can tell that she is really fond of you. She knows you from your head to your toe -- this is unusual. How can you find one who knows you so well! She is cute. She has a job. Try to please her. Get married with her. How wonderful it would be! --To have only one kid, easy to raise. She is strong; the kid would be strong and smart. Maybe her parents do not agree? We are in a new society. What can they do if she wants to marry you? If it is necessary, I would go to talk to her parents. I think her mother will listen to me. -- What a kind girl! No wonder everyone said you have good luck! You are smart at dealing with girls. I do not worry that you will be an old bare stick. Now I only worry about your Second Brother."

Mother said, "Everyone said you two are a good match. Treat her well. Do not look down upon her for she had not attended college. She does not care about our poverty. These days even a village girl will ask so much of a family and they will not have a second glance at you; an urban girl like her comes to you! All of us think that she deserves you. We are afraid that her mother would not agree. If her mother does not agree, all of us would go to persuade her not to be short-sighted. You will have good fortune. The fortune-teller has told us. You are in for bad luck this year; the turn would come next year. The turning point of your life will come at the age of 32."

Second Brother said, "If you want to get married, you can use that room." He pointed to the room in which Ling had stayed for the night. "I can't offer you anything else, but I can make a big bed for you. I will go to steal some trees in the mountains and hire a carpenter to make the bed. That does not cost me much. I would cover the room with white paper, make it look like a new one. I would not put the bull in the next room."

I said I had never thought of marring her and I did not know whether her mother endorsed our relationship. Oldest Brother said, "Of course she does, or she would not let Lingling to stay alone with you. She had said to me with a laugh, 'You do not have to worry that Young does not listen to anyone anymore. He listens to my Ling. How great they are together!' --Do not worry. Ling controls her mother, not the other way around. The far-sighted girl would not marry one for today, but for tomorrow. You are nobody today, you will be somebody tomorrow. If she asks you to marry her, do not reject her. It is time to get married. Both of you have passed the legal marriage age for three years. If you get married, you can settle down in the county seat. The policy allows the woman to marry one who is not a city resident and for both to live in the city; the child will be a legal city resident. You may think that you would be able to change your status later, but you need one to support you today. She is one hundred times more capable than you are! If you don't seize the opportunity, you get no way out. -- Marry her. She will use her connections to help you. Now it is you who do not match her. What are you? You are a criminal. You are no better than an ordinary peasant. Even a peasant is better than you: they know how to plow, how to plant rice. What do you know? You may say: I can write poems." He burst into laughter, "Poems? I have read a few lines of those you printed, I would not use them to wipe my ass. All are nonsense. Now the first priority is how to get three meals to fill your stomach, how to find a place to stay for the night. If there is not this house, where can you go for the night? Go to see your best friends? They themselves are Buddha made of mud crossing the river - they can not survive themselves. Come back to real life. She had told me that she wants to have a small family as soon as possible. You are so lucky to come back home at this moment or you would never have her. A dozen young men are after her. The poorest of them are far better off than you are. People envy you. In the county she is one of the most beautiful girls! Seize the opportunity!"

I just felt sweet that Ling was there for me. Listening to them, I was asking myself: would I become her husband in the near future? Was it horrible?

 

10. In the Dream

Father had recovered. He kept shaking his head: "You are silly, silly! How dare you counter the emperor's family? It was the crime that would beget the eradication of the whole family -- no exception for the baby in the cradle! How did you dare? " I wanted to explain to him that there was no emperor in our country now, but he was too deaf to hear me. I just tried to stay with him as much as possible. I ate with him, slept in the same bed with him, or just sat by him listening to him complain, his sigh and his stories.

It was cloudy and gloomy day after day. During daytime, it was dark everywhere. Under the black cloud, I feel we were living underground. After a few days, I felt extremely blue.

Oldest Brother said you could not stay at home idly like this; you must find a way of living. Go to the county seat to beg others for help, maybe you could find a temporary teaching job there. You could not stay away from Lingling for too long. Father also urged me to go to the county seat. And I felt the whole world was cold and dark; only Lingling had her little hut open for me with fire and light on. I got no place to go besides going to her.

I had nothing to take to Ling's home. Brothers asked me to bring some rice to them. We had enough raw rice. But I had to process it. The day before I went to the county seat, I carried about fifty kilograms of raw rice to process it in the next village. It was raining; the road was narrow and slippery. I had to take all precautions to avoid falling or stepping into the fields full of water. I took the processed rice home, blew it in the wind to separate the white rice from the husk.

I got to Lingling's home in the afternoon. I stood on the balcony looking into the little alley through which she must pass. How exciting when she came into sight -- she raised up like the land appearing in front of a sailor who had drifted for days in the roaring sea! She did not see me. She walked silently. She turned into the compound and entered the building. I went to stand by the door with a thumping heart. When I heard the key touching the door, I opened it. In came the sweet girl of mine! The world shone with her beautiful smile! Simply greeting her parents, she eyed me to follow her to her room. Close the door, we embraced and kissed violently. All my anxiety melted away like a piece of ice in the stove.

When she got to know that I brought some rice to her home, she said: "How could you carry it from the station to my home?" I told her that I carried it on my back. "Do not bring anything here. I have talked with my parents. I will give them money for your stay. If they complain, do not listen to them." I said I felt uneasy to come here with empty hands. She said: "You must think more about your brother and father." Then she rushed to the kitchen to help her mother to cook.

I stayed in her room, turned on the radio to listen to light music. I could hear her singing from the other room. Her voice was full of joy. In a moment, she came in, grasped my hand to go out to have dinner. She had a bowl of rice, a pair of chopsticks on the table ready for me. Her parents helped themselves. When she left the table to get more rice for me, her mother whispered to me, "She has never been so happy!" After the meal, she got a washbasin of water, put in the towel, "Have a wash." Her little sister giggled, "I want to wash first." "Zheng first, you second." "Why do you treat him so special?" She pushed her sister aside with a giggle. I said: "Why don't you let her first?" Her sister said: "I was kidding. After you." I touched the water. She got alert, "Is it cold enough?" "Still a little hot for me." "Oh, let me change it." "No, no, it is OK." But she already took the water back to the kitchen.

Finishing washing, I tried to help her mother to collect the dishes. I was really awkward in handling dishes. She came over, "Let me do it. Go to my room to have a break." I had to go to sit in her room. In a minute she came in with a cup of green tea, "I do not know whether you like it heavy or light." "Hot water is fine." She came to sit close to me. I said, "Do not treat me like this." She said, "I enjoy."

Seven years ago, the desire to touch her was so strong, but I had feared to do that and she had been highly alert and always ready to escape from me. Now she was more than willing to respond to my desire of touching her. She sat on my legs, held up my hands and examined the scars. The scars on the wrists were like handcuffs. She felt them. I told her that I really thought of her a lot at the very moment when I thought I was going to be killed. She told me when she heard that I was caught, she cried several nights. Then we clung to each other, said nothing.

After a while, she went up to make bed for me in the next room. I followed her. While I was helping her to spread the new sheet on the bed, I said: "Come to my room tonight." She shook her head. "Nonsense." "I will come to yours." She giggled; "You want my parents to call in the police? -- Anyway, I will lock the door." "Please do not." She left the room after she finished making the bed.

When all the lights were out, I lay in the comfortable bed. I was safe. My loved one was just in the other room. I hoped that she would come to my room, but up to the middle of the night, no one touched the door. I stood up, listened. It was absolutely quiet except for her father's snoring. I got out of my bed, walked out of the room. All the doors of the rooms were closed. I approached her room, tried the knob. It was unlocked! The fire in my heart exploded just like gas was poured in! -- She has intentionally kept the door open! She must have been waiting for me! Slightly pushing the door open, I entered her room on my toes. I could see her bed in the dim light. She was peacefully lying in her bed, her black hair was spread on the pillow. She seemed to be asleep. -- She has forgot to lock her door? Standing by her bedside, I looked at her. Her breathing was peaceful. -- Should I wake her up? No. This is a piece of artwork Heaven has reserved for me. It is she who prevented me from slipping far into the emptiness of the universe. Oh, this softly sweet warmth I had dreamed of for so long! I knelt down, holding the edge of her bed, watching her silently. The coldness made me shiver. I lowered my head toward the quilt. --To drink the fragrance of hers, to guard her peaceful sleep was all I wanted. ? Minutes later, my hair was combed by her fingers softly.

Next morning I got up very early. I went out to do some running. In the street, food vendors had opened their doors and begun to turn on stoves. Green smoke trickled out from the stalls. Children with school bags on their shoulders were hurriedly walking by. I ran to the park on a small hill. Standing on the hill, I could see green mountains far away. The sun was breaking through the gray cloud and painting the sky in the east. Breathing in the fresh, chilly air, jogging on the little hills, enjoying the freedom of mine, I was full of hope for my new life.

I came back to her home. Her parents had got up. I began to sweep the floor. When I went into her room, she was still in bed. Her lips was juicily red and her face was baby pink. I could not help bowing down to kiss her. Sweetness was full of my heart. I went out to let her dress.

After she got up, she went to the kitchen to see what her mother was cooking. "Only noodles? Let me fry some eggs for Zheng." I tried to stop her, "It is OK, do not bother too much." "It takes no time. You will have nothing to eat if you get hungry later in the morning. I could not come back for lunch." In a few seconds, the whole room was full of the sweet smell of fried eggs. I felt uneasy to eat it when it was ready. "Do not treat me like a guest." "Do not be so polite. I hope the life here is not as bad as that in the army."

She walked in and out of the room spreading sweetness on her way. A little move by her eye brow, a slight move of her lips, or a click of her fingers -- all the little gestures became a secret language between us. That made me full of joy. After breakfast, she went to work, I saw her off by the door. We did not touch each other, we did not say anything special, but a blink of her eyes, a slight movement of her lips said all.

After she left, the day became unbearably long. I just sat in her room to listen to the radio and waited for her to come back. I was alone again.

I had two best friends in the county seat. In high school, we shared books, clothes, food and the little money we had. I went to the college first, Yang Min, the eldest one among us, failed the exam and became a temporary worker. Zhou Peng, the youngest one, entered university at the same year I graduated from college. Last year, Peng was kicked back home because of an affair with his student's mother. Now he taught at a school in the suburb.

I went to see Peng in the late morning. His school was located on a small hill. The classrooms were scattered along the hill. When I got there, the class had just begun. Seeing me through the window, Peng ran out laughing, "We are tied to each other like two grasshoppers on one string! -- I have to finish this piece of class, would you like to sit in?" I went to sit in the back.

Wearing a long black overcoat, standing in front of the blackboard, textbook in a hand, occasionally writing something on the blackboard, Peng looked like a professor. His handwriting was beautiful. He was eloquent. He was a born-to-be teacher. He was in the middle of explaining the difference of the proletariat dictatorship, the real democracy that people enjoy and the fake Western democracy. With a naughty smile, he said, "Everyone knows that our democracy is the real democracy. The party represents all of us and there is only one party. The Western democracy is false, but there are multiple-parties. What is democracy? -- The political system that accommodates the interest of everyone, right? OK, tell me, do different people have different interests?" Students replied, "Yes." "Now we need someone to represent the interest of one billion people. There is one representative and there are one hundred representatives, which could represent better?" The students held their breath. Finally one student raised his hand, "More representatives." "OK, now there is a shoe maker in our county, he has the power to drive away all other shoemakers and block other shoes from entering our county. He claims that the shoes he made are the best in the world. Do you believe what he is bragging?" No, students responded. "Of course, we would like to have more shoe makers to compete with each other, then all the shoe makers would try to produce the best shoes in the most efficient way. If there is only one shoe maker, he would provide you the worst shoes with the highest price. Only that shoemaker benefits from this monopoly, all of us consumers will sacrifice. This is the same as the political system." He made a face, "However, when you answer the question on the examination paper, just say that the monopoly of one shoemaker is in the best interest of everyone." Students burst into laughter. He did not laugh. He asked the students to read themselves and approached me, asked me whether I would like to say something to the students. I said no. Then he led me to a small office next to the classroom.

I asked, "How dared you to talk in the class like that?" "The students like us to make fun of the textbooks, or they will fall asleep. What had I said? I said nothing politically wrong. But I tell you, the students really enjoy my lecture." He was supposed to teach Chinese language; he often got sick, thus the school assigned him to teach politics.

He said, "It reminds me of Diao's declaration: you and Cai Zheng are the two mice out of one hole! Now we are in one hole again!" Diao was a teacher of ours in high school. He humiliated me whenever he got a chance. That made me cry so often when I was in his class. Two years later I passed the College Entrance Examination, Mr. Diao, as the director of the school, refused to come to the celebration feast at my home. He said that if he wrote something true about me in the political judgment, I would be done. However he did not do that; if he did so, other teachers would kill him: I was the only one in the social science class who had passed. Peng had been sick and had to take one year off, later he was fallen into Diao's hands. Diao vented all his pent-up hatred of me on him. To think of this, we could not stop laughing.

In a few minutes, several of his colleagues rushed in to have a word with me. He said, "We do better leave the office. If the old party sticks know that I have brought in a counter-revolutionary, they would make trouble with me." I protested, "I am not a counter-revolutionary. They have cleaned me of that kind of label." He interrupted me, "Everyone knows you are. It is not notorious, it is glorious! All of us admire you for you have the courage and opportunity to be a counter-revolutionary in Beijing! We take you as a hero. Do not deny that you are a counter-revolutionary, or you will lose your charisma."

He lived in a bungalow by a toilet. He had to close the window to the toilet side. He had one small bedroom, one living room and one small kitchen. He was very satisfied with the number of rooms. It was quite rare for teachers to have so many rooms though each room was small, the earth ground was not smooth, and the ceilings were so low that I could touch them with my hands. He led me to the bedroom; it was a little warmer there, but it didn’t smell that good. However, close the door, and we had a small cozy world of our own. He asked me to sit in the only armchair.

After chatting for a while, we came to talk about my girl. He said: "Believe me or not, I can bet on you: she will not go steady with you! You can never get married with her." I was shocked and hurt by his arrogant declaration. This was the first time one said that to me. "How could you say so?" "Now you are in the aura of a hero. You do not know how realistic girls have become. It is a totally different world compared to the old one. You are flying in the sky, I have been crawling on the ground." "She is different!" "She may be as pure as spring water, but this world would not allow her to be like that. She will never marry you if you do not change your status. You may prepare to enter graduate school; do not waste time on her. If you entered graduate school, she may love you." He changed his tone, "To be frank, as far as I know, she does not deserve you." "You really do not know her ?" He raised his voice to cut me off, "I do not have to know her! I know the world she lives in. You are in a dream." He lowered his voice, "OK, I will not talk about that to hurt you. Forget what I have said. Prepare for the worst. Of course, I hope for the best out of this affair." Then he refused to say any more about this. I wanted to restart the subject to argue with him, to convince him to change his prediction about our destiny, he just refused to talk about it anymore.

In a while, his wife came back home. She was a tiny, joyful woman. Seeing me, she exclaimed, "We talked about you every day! You are finally here! Congratulations!" I asked, "Congratulations for what?" "You are safely home and have a beautiful girl waiting for you, and the dead members of your party are together again! -- Peng often complained that he had no one to talk to, now he has one!" Peng told me that she was the champion for the 3000 meters running competition in the college and her major was physics!

She spoke quickly, "I went to buy clothes yesterday, I heard the sales girls talking to each other -- guess what! I heard they mentioned your name. They were talking about you and your sweetheart! I really wanted to cut in: do you know who you are talking about? Cai Zheng is the best friend of my husband!" She held her smile, "but I also heard some rumors about her." "What are they?" I became alert. "Do not listen to women. They shit everywhere." Peng urged her to go to cook. She stopped. But I was hurt. --What are the rumors about? Ling has had some affairs with others?

In about half an hour, his wife had a dish ready. Peng got out a bottle of liquor. We began to eat and drink. His wife continued to cook.

He told me that Yang Min had a quarrel with him, since then he had never showed up. The quarrel happened at Peng's home. After drinking a few cups of liquor, Yang Min claimed that he would be the greatest writer in the county in one year, the greatest in the country in five years and the greatest in the world in ten years. Peng could not help splashing cold water over him. Yang Min got mad. He forced Peng to prove that he could not make it. Of course, Peng could not; then he accused Peng of trying to discourage him. "'What a friend you are!' he yelled at me. -- I do not know whether he is still alive or not. His plant has not paid him for years." He told me that one day Yang Min intentionally ran against one guy riding a bike in front of his plant and forced him to pay him ten yuan. The guy was from the countryside; he was scared and paid the money. "How could that be?" I was shocked. Yang Min was always ready to give out his heart to feed others if that would rid them of their hunger. Peng said, "He told me the story himself. He was so proud of his gain - ten yuan was the biggest money he has ever made in a single day. You know, poverty drives people to behave like animals."

Peng told me that the school had kept most of their salary to clear their debt -- they had borrowed money from the school to get married. Since they got married, they only got twenty yuan a month. Twenty yuan could only buy two small dishes in a restaurant, but they managed to survive on that amount of money for a whole month. Fortunately his father could provide them with rice. He pointed to the delicious dish his wife had just prepared and told me that the meat was distributed by the school for the Spring Festival. They had hung it on the wall in the living room to show others that they had not run out of meat. Today was a good time to end his torture of staring at it with mouth watering by finishing it. He said: "Here people are just struggling to have a bed to sleep in at the night and to have rice to eat during the day. You want to get married here? Where to stay? To live in her home? I don't think that is practical. And where can you get the money to get married? I hope you have a clear idea about the reality."

I did not know how to respond. I hated to think about the reality.

"You should prepare for the Graduate Study Entrance Examination. It is a piece of cake for you. Let's go to the same graduate school, we can stick together again! -- How about that?" I had no idea as how to prepare for the exam. He said he would get some information for me. He had just taken the exam.

In the afternoon, I went back. On the way back, I criticized Peng in my mind. -- He does not know our history. Ling and I are more than friends, more than lovers. Our joyful love had been full of deep sorrow. We had missed too much; we want to make up. We will stick together. As far as we decide to stick together, what can possibly separate us?

Ling's home was cold and empty without her. I went to wait for her in the turning point in the hutong. For fearing to be seen by her neighbors, I went back to lean on the fence of the balcony to look over the hutong. It turned dark; the streetlight was on, still she did not show up. I got anxious. -- Where is she? She is with another man? If she is with another man, she must be explaining to him why she cannot go steady with him. --Who knows what she is doing with the man? --No, I can tell she has nobody else. But where is she? She should have left the office more than one hour ago. It would only take her at most half an hour to get home.

Her mother already had the super ready. I wanted to go out to look for her. -- Where does she usually go? She may be in some man's private room. How could I find her? -- No, she has her whole heart for me. Do not be blindly jealous. She must have something important to do. Why didn't she let me know in advance? ?

I expected her to shine up in the turning of the street, holding her light and walking toward me. It got darker and darker.

I had to go back into the room. I could not help asking her mother why Ling did not come back at this time. She said, "I thought she has told you." That made me more anxious. She should have told me. The anxiety turned to be fidgety. She might intentionally torture me. She knew that now my only occupation was waiting for her. ?

At the very time when I was going to break down, she entered the room. My anxiety evaporated. I suppressed my joy of seeing her, "Where have you been?" She said vehemently that she had been trying to find some cloth for me. She entered her room. I followed. "I have checked some cloth, let's go together to buy some tomorrow. I will find you a tailor. You need some new clothes." I said I did not want to spend money on clothes. She said, "I will pay. You must look great when you are in a suit. Your shoulders are broad. You need to get rid of the army uniform. Spring is coming." "I do not care about clothes." "I do care. I like to dress you up." Then she told me that a colleague of hers would come in the evening. "An admirer of yours?" I joked. "You will see. Lots of them. Do you think it is the time for me to be courted by others? My parents would not allow anyone to come to my home before. Now they begin to worry that I cannot find a boyfriend." I felt sour. I suspected that she was not shopping around, but fooled around with that guy. She had to explain to him why she had to break with him now. That's why there were rumors. -- Why didn't she just flatly reject him? What is her purpose of letting her wooer to come to her home while I am here? To fool her parents? To tell me that she is valuable? To let me know that I must hurry up and give her a higher grading? Or to let those guys know that she already belongs to me? She continued, "We share one office. I am new there. He thinks he has the privilege to say whatever he wants to say to me. If you like, you may talk to him." Her explanation cooled me down. --She wants to use me to reject the unwanted wooer. It is very hard to refuse one guy flatly in an environment where constantly harassing a girl is taken as mannish bravery.

After dinner, she boiled water for me and asked me to take a shower. She brought me my clothes folded neatly. When I came out of the bathroom and entered her room, that guy was there, holding a cup of tea and smoking. His hair popped up with artificial curls. He worn the black wool overcoat, leather boots. -- This is the guy who wants to compete with me? I could not help laughing bitterly to myself. Ling introduced me, "This is Cai Zheng. He has just finished his term in the army." The guy got up, tried to pour tea for me, just as he was the host. I asked Ling, "Where should I put my clothes?" "Put them here. I'll wash them later." "Leave them to me. I know how to wash." She chuckled, "I know you know how to wash. I checked your shirts, all the sleeves and collars are yellow." The guy said, "You do not use a washing machine?" I said, "I am the washing machine, do we need another one?" Ling said, "Do not brag."

He left in a few minutes. Ling and I saw him out. I shook hands with him. He tried to use strength, but his hand was small and soft. Just when he walked out of the room, Ling had her fingers in my palm. We turned back to her room.

She said, "The whole office will know you tomorrow." "Is it good or bad?" "I don't know. I hope he will not bother me again." "If he bothers you again, I will knock out his soul." "No talk of fighting! You are twenty-five years old! I worry most is that you are belligerent." "Just kidding." "I know you. I hope you can control your temper sometimes." "I would never have temper when I am with you." "Let's wait and see."

She got up to pick up my clothes, I said, "Let me wash them." She said, "You do not know how to wash clothes." "At least I can help you to wash them." "OK, let's go. You may help me to throw away the dirty water." I followed her to the bathroom to wash the clothes.

While we were alone in the bathroom, she often burst into laughter. Her mother put her head in, "What's so funny?" she closed the door without getting the answer. Ling said, "I hope we can have a room of ours, so we can laugh as loud as thunder." "You can go to live at my home." "It is still not our home -- you have to share it with your brother, and I could not work here and go to have dinner at your home." "You may go to work with me in the fields. 'I plow the fields, you weave the cloth. The loved couple's life will be as sweet as honey'." "You know how to plow? Should the bull go ahead of you or you ahead of the bull?" She laughed. I said, "Of course, I know!" "But I do not know how to weave." "You can learn. -- You are thinking about going home with me to lead a peasant's life?" "I would like to if you always treat me like this." "Like what?" "Like now." "Of course, I will treat you as my queen forever. I swear." I felt we were back to the time when we were kids.

When she tried to wash the clothes, I grasped her hands to examine them. Her hands were tender and white. I tried to kiss them, "Too much soap bubbles! They are bitter!" She tried to pull them out from my hands. "They are sweet. No matter what is on them." She touched my face with her fingers. "I would not let the soap ruin your hands. Clean your hands." I pulled her to stand up, then I sat down on the stool by the basin full of clothes and began rubbing the clothes on the washboard. Water and soap bubbles flew up. "I wash faster than a washing machine. Look, this is the little secret: hold the dirty part of the clothes to rub the other dirty part. I would finish washing the whole basin of clothes in no time." She gazed at me, "I have never expected that you know these trivial things. Man is not supposed to do that." "No. I should do all of these. Why should it be done by a fair lady like you?" "What should I do then?" "Smile. Your smile is all I need." "Hi, Cai Zheng, you have got a sweet tongue. Where do you learn these sweet talks?" "What? My tongue is the old one. I do not think it has been changed." She came over to press her soft, hot lips on near my ear, "I love you. I missed you so much. I want you to stay with me every day. Never leave me!" Her arms locked my neck. I said: "How could I survive without you?"

Lightning was striking in my brain. The tide of love rose up. I cleaned my hands on my trousers, turned back. I hesitated to touch her. She pulled my hands around her waist. She murmured, "You are mine again! I still worry that you will leave me. I could not concentrate on work. I think about you day and night. I will trap you here. Lock us together! Today I smiled to myself in the office. The elder sister teased me that I was losing my mind. -- I would never let you leave! Never!" She held my head toward hers. I buried my head in her warm soft chest. "Why should I go to another place?" "You do not know how pleased I am when I know you are back! -- sorry that I am happy upon your misfortune. I can have you now. You came to me at a very good time! I had to find excuses to reject others. People around me are putting on pressure. All my girl friends are getting married. --Promise me, stay with me forever!" She lowered her head, kissed me again. I was drunken. -- My poor girl! What is more precious than you are! How can I live on without you? Surrounding her waist with my arms, bury my head in her soft, warm chest, my heart was melting, turning to water.

 

I asked her whether I could see her off to her plant. Her eyes were shining, “Are you really willing to? We must get up one and half hour earlier.” Her plant was on the east suburb of the county seat. It takes about fifteen minutes bus to her plant, which is on the east suburb of the county seat.

 

The next morning, when it was still a little dark, she woke me up. After a simple breakfast, we set out. In a few minutes we were out of the city and walking between the fields.

 

What a beautiful morning! The tenderly green fields were covered by pieces of white silky fog; light fragrance of vegetables growing along the road flew in the morning breeze. The ponds by the narrow road were like mirrors; little trees by the ponds, like butterflies, swam in the mirrors. The sky was transparent. In the east sky hung the pink sun. The little hills nearby were round and soft; the fields on the hills were like wrinkles of waves on a peaceful lake, one circle after another, moving and waving. A river flew through the fields and by the hills like a string of green smoke. The wide sand bed was snow-white.

 

We walked hand in hand. She joyfully jumped by me, like a little girl. When we were crossing the narrow bridge over the small river, I held her waist to give her a lift; she would throw all her weight on me abruptly and drew her out of my arms quickly with a naughty smile. She began to sing in a soft voice. Her song joined the flow of the morning breeze. In no time, we reached her plant. Before we departed, she just scratched my palm with her four fingers; her scratches were powerful. I wanted to scratch her palm, but she already raised her hand to wave good-bye and blinked her eyes. Seeing her disappeared in the crowd, I turned back with my heart full of sweetness.

 

In the afternoon, I went to wait for her out of her plant. When she saw me, she flew toward me and said vehemently, “Why are you here? You had not told me — or I would have come out earlier! How long have you been here?” I had been there the whole afternoon. But I told her I had just arrived. She asked, “Should we take the bus?” I said, “Upon to you.” “Let’s walk, OK?” Then we set out to walk.

 

We came to the river near the plant; transparent water covered the white sand. I took off my shoes, asked her to let me carry her to cross the river. No, no, she shook her head, let’s go to the bridge. The water in March is too cold. -- Come on! Come on! I laughed. Finally she gave in, let me carry her on my back. In the middle of the river, I screamed, “I could not pull out my feet!” and pretended to try to pull my feet out of the sand. She yelled: “Let me go! Put me down! Drop me!” I said firmly, “No, I would rather die than to have you wet your shoes!” Then abruptly I began to run, splashing silver pearls around. The cold water cut into my feet like broken glass, still I felt sweet in my heart. After we crossed the river, I sat on the ground, cleaned my red feet with my trousers. She tried to hold my feet to warm them up. I just put on socks and shoes, and then hand in hand we went on.

 

Everyday, my only excitement was to walk her to her plant in the early morning; then went to wait for her in the afternoon and walk back with her; everyday I took off my shoes to carry her on my back to cross the river to cut short. When we were tired, we sat down on the dry grass, looking at the geese or a piece of cloud or just looking into each other’s eyes. Smile was full of her watery eyes.

 

What a great comfort to hold her hand to walk through the fields. With her hand in mine, the whole world was in my hand.

 

 

11. Bewilderment

 

I made up my mind to settle down and try to take the graduate examination. To lead a peaceful life in the small county might not be that horrible. With love, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Spring had set in; it got warmer and warmer; Lingling got more and more attractive. In the pink shirt or the white dotted flower shirt, she was as pure as the light cloud in the blue sky. In the evening, I sat in her room, bit her sweet plaits. She was always smiling; her beautiful smile drove away the ghosts rushing in to surround me. I enjoyed the caring that I had never enjoyed. She washed my clothes, ironing my suit and brewed tea for me. She only wanted me to sit by the window in her sweet room to read my books. She had built a cozy hut for me to hide in.

By the end of April, one night Zhong Bo came to see me at her home, just as he entered the room, he announced gleefully, "Good news! Riverside Middle School would like to hire you!" All of us were overjoyed. Ling was especially excited. Zhong Bo said he originally planned to put me in the best middle school in the county which was not in the city, if I performed satisfactorily there, I would be more likely to become a formal teacher. But he thought it would be more important for me stay closer to Ling.

The next day I went to Riverside Middle School to report to the principal. He was a middle-aged man with a kind smiling face. He said: "Zhong Bo has recommended you to us. It is an honor to have a learned one like you to teach in our school. We had never hired a temporary teacher before and we have no budget for that, we have to manage to get the money ourselves. The pay is a shame to us though it is the best we can offer. -- Each month we will pay you seventy-yuan."

I was grateful. The pay was not the main concern. The job would give me a sense of security; I would no longer drift in the wind. Father would be overjoyed simply that I found a job in the county seat. Ling would feel easy when she sat me at the table. Teachers were generally respected though the pay was not that good.

I got a room of my own in the third floor of the main teaching building. Standing on the corridor of the third floor, I could see the river flowing by the school. Along the river, lots of people were fishing. Down by the river a bridge hung over it. On the bridge, people were bicycling or walking; some were just leaning on the fence looking down. To the south side of the city, the dark green mountains lined the sky. I liked the view.

My room was sandwiched between two classrooms. Inside there was a bed and a desk. It had a smothering odor. I opened the windows in the front and in the back. Cool wind flowed through the room like a clean stream. -- How wonderful to have such a nice room of my own! I can take Ling to be here; I do not have to act like a thief in her home. We can get married in this room by separating it: the inner part to be the bedroom and the outside to be the living room and kitchen. We can sit by the window, watch the river flowing, and let the wind tenderly brush us.

The next Monday I began teaching. When I entered the classroom, the yellow dust raised up by running students filled the room. I could not see the students clearly in the end of the room. I felt it was hard to breathe. I asked the students to open all the windows. It took a while for the dust to settle down.

The classroom was full of little monkeys wiggling and chattering. I had to shout to reach the little monkeys. To control them was just like rowing a leaking boat in a roaring sea. After one lesson my voice was hoarse. I had three lessons a day.

In the evening I moved in my quilt and tried to sleep in the room. There was no toilet inside the building. To do No.1 job I had to go to the end of the corridor, go down stairs, and walk one hundred meters to cross the playground in front of the building to the toilet. There was no light in the stairs and in the toilet after eleven. It was the rainy season; the playground had become a pool of mud. I had to ask the teachers living on the fourth floor how to solve the problem if I wanted to do No. 1 job in the night. They said they just pissed down at the end of the corridor. I had to follow their example. In the moonlight, I could see the string of shining water flying down, ended in the dark bush on the riverbank one hundred meters below. I came up with a verse mimicking the folk song:

The flying fall runs down three thousand feet high

Looks like the Milky Way is falling down from the sky

I stand here pass water, pass the water to Zhongnanhai*

Li Peng drinks it, drinks it with a broad smile

 

After I settled down in the middle school, I thought the opportunity for Ling and me to stick together alone had finally come. She could stay with me for nights in my own room. But to my surprise, she refused to come to my room.

Since she refused to come to the school, most of the time I still stayed at her home. I had asked her whether I should move to the school permanently. She told me not to waste money and eat at the school. I knew it was not right to continue to stay at her home, but I liked to stay around her, I liked the quietness at her home and the delicious food her mother cooked. In the school, it was always noisy; the rice was like sand and the steamed bread was as yellow as earth.

I knew that all my shortcomings would fall into her parents' eyes like sand. I ate too much -- I ate more than all her family could eat. Occasionally they had some tasty food on the table, her mother might hope for it to be saved for the next meal. When they persuaded me to empty the dishes, I just emptied them; there was always enough room in my stomach. Sometimes I suspected that they were just being polite, I looked at Lingling for instruction, she would smile, "If you can finish them, finish them, so we can clean the dishes." Brother had warned me that I must be polite, I should eat more rice and eat less delicious food. I thought it was hypocritical. Lingling seemed to appreciate my straightforward way. Seeing me eating, she always had an appreciative smile.

Her parents might think that I was too lazy and wasteful. After work, they did all the housework. Most of the time I only read books or listened to the radio. To them reading was idling. They might think that I had used too much water for washing and had wasted too much electricity for reading. They had to pay for the water and electricity. When it was cloudy, I would turn on the light during the day. Sometimes her mother would come in to turn off the light with a smile, "Forgot to turn off the light again! It is wasteful!" I felt embarrassed. I was afraid of the gloominess in the air. A room full of light in the gloomy world would make me feel a little better.

We had no blood relationship; without Lingling, I had no reason to stay at her home. I must contribute to her family for the expense. After getting the pay for the first month, I gave her mother some money behind Lingling’s back. Her mother was very pleased with the money though she pretended to be unwilling to take it. After she pulled out the small wallet from somewhere under her right arm and folded the bills carefully and put them in, she said: "You know how expensive the vegetables are these days! The vendors are extorting us! For one small bunch of vegetables they charged you ten cents!" She weighed everything she bought at home on a small balance. One day, she found that the eggs she bought was half a liang* short, she furiously shouted: "Liar! Cheat! How evil they are! They use all means to extort you!" Immediately she ran back to argue with the vendor. She got five cents back. She sworn she would never go to buy anything from that vendor again.

Since I began teaching in Riverside Middle School, I had been looking forward to staying alone with Lingling – I had gotten no chance to see her off to work or to pick her up. We almost never had the opportunity stay together alone. I could not get what I longed for. The thirst was always hanging there.

One day she had a day off, and I had no class in the morning. Her parents went to work. Her sister was at school. I got secretly excited. Just as her mother left, I closed the door and locked it. She asked, "Why did you lock the door?" I had to unlock it. She went to kitchen to wash her hair. I locked the door again. I could not waste a single minute shared by only the two of us. The thirst was broiling me. I suppressed the fire. I helped her to get water to wash her hair. I hoped that she could finish washing in one minute, so I could kiss her, feel her to bring her to the dreamy state before anyone came back.

She washed her hair once, twice and thrice. After she finished washing, she began to dry it with a towel. I asked her to sit in her room. She came to sit in the room. When I was going to touch her, she shied away, "No!" I felt weird. She sat down by the window, looking into the mirror and peacefully combing her hair. Just like talking to herself, she murmured: "We can not go on like this."

"Like what?"

"Like this."

A bucket of icy water was splashed over my hot head. "Like what? Are you kidding?"

"No. I have thought this long enough." calmly she said.

-- She thought about it when she was in my arms, when she was kissing me, or when she was cooking for me? This is a joke that must be stopped. I threw a glass out of the window. I heard somebody shriek in the yard.

She screamed: "What are you doing? You could have killed somebody!"

I had not realized that. I was a little scared by my behavior, but I pretended to be calm, "It is fine if somebody gets killed."

"Throw out all the glasses! - They were right: you have a bad temper! I can never be happy with you! Let's stop here!"

Her accusing tone broke the web I had woven to wrap us together. I was pieced through by a sword. I crushed another glass on the floor. The pieces of glass splashed around, "If you say this again, I will crush another one."

She stared at me with her mouth open; her face turned pale. She bit her lips, kept silence for a while and said in a low voice, "I have made up my mind."

"Made up your mind on what?"

"On that."

"On what?"

"You know what."

"Are you serious?"

"Have I ever made jokes?"

She was cool. I was furious. I got nothing to say but said, "Fine." Then I walked out of her room.

I entered my room and threw all my clothes in one case. I went to the bathroom to get my toothbrush. -- Yes, finally it comes. Brother is right. I should not stay at her home. Peng is right, we are impossible to stick together.

She came to lean on the doorframe, slowly combing her hair and watching me. Her face was pale. Finally, the comb in her hands, she asked, "What are you doing?"

I did not respond. After I put everything of mine in the case, I said, "As you wish, I'll go." I held my case and went to open the door. She rushed forward to seize the handle of the case, "Where are you going? At least you should tell my parents before you leave!" -- It is time to show that I am a man! "I will have nothing to do with you! Good luck." I brushed her hands off my case, closed the door behind me forcefully.

After I walked down stair a few steps, I heard a sharp cry. I stopped. Was she crying? I was not sure. -- If she is crying, I must go back to comfort her. However I could not stop my feet from walking down. It might be my illusion. She had no reason to cry. I did not have to be embarrassed to turn back and find that she was not crying.

I went to stay in the school. I felt good in the first day. But the pain and loneness seeped in and accumulated. --I am here, teaching, for what? For her. I read books to prepare for the exam, for what? For her. But she is not there. I am here for nothing. I was scared to look forward. The earth was broken apart just in front of me. Looking into the crevice, I saw the dark abyss. I was falling into it, into the bottomless darkness.

I sat in my room, tried to read. I could not. Why did she say that to me so abruptly? Why? What went wrong?

On moonlit evening I took her out to take a walk with me, at the cross roads, she wanted to go to the center of the city; I wanted to go to the memorial park on the small hill. I had dreamed of walking in the moonlight on a small road among the trees with a beautiful girl when I was in college, when I was in my home village wandering in the fields, when I was walking lonely in the airfield in the barracks. I had been dreaming of melting into the moonlight, into the sky, into the universe with a sweet beautiful girl of mine. Finally the time had arrived. I could hold her hands and walk on the road following the pure moonlight; I would no longer just be accompanied by my shadow. I begged her to go to the park with me. She said no. "Fine, you go your way, I'll go mine," I dropped her there and walked toward the park by myself. I hoped that she would follow me. After a few steps, I turned back, she was gone. I had to walk my own way. The park was full of moonlight. The moonlight just made me feel lonelier. I returned to her home immediately. She welcomed me with a smile, "Is it fun to walk in a memorial park in the night?" I responded by holding her in my arms tightly. --Maybe I should have followed her to the center of the city? She had her dream of walking in the crowd with her own man?

One day we were chatting in her room, she said one guy who just left her home had a three storied house; that guy's father, a chief in the Bureau of Transportation, had made some big money for running a grocery store. I interrupted her, "Could you talk about something else?" She blushed, "What do you want me to talk about?" "If we have nothing to say, silence is preferable." "No, we must say something. What subject do you have?" Talk about my experience in the street in Beijing, in the custody? How could I describe the horror I experienced? Talk about poetry? The language of poetry was like riddles to her. Really I doubt we would have common language. That made me really dismayed.

In early May her plant organized a spring outing to Wudang Mountain. She said her plant allowed them to take one family member on the plant's expense. She had thought of taking me, but she had changed her mind. The day before she left for the trip, she asked: "Would you like to cook something for me and see me off tomorrow morning? I would start out at five." I worried that if I got up too early, a whole day of mine would be ruined and my study plan on that day could not be fulfilled. "Could you cook yourself?" I kept my eyes on my book. "I want you to do it for me. We have not been parted for so long since you came back. I need to think about something during the outing. I need to make a big decision." Her blaming and stubborn tone moved me. I had to agree to it. The next day I woke up very early, cooked some noodles for her, then I woke her up. She almost did not touch the noodles I cooked. I saw her off to the station. When we got close to the stop, she asked me to leave. I insisted on seeing her get into the bus. She begged me to leave before the bus came. I knew she was trying to hide me from her colleagues. She kissed me without any passion and rushed to the stop. I stood under a tree far away from the stop soaked in sadness. Days later, she came back. She was unusually talkative. But I was still deep in the mood of being hurt. When she entered the room, I just read my book. She came over, closed my book, "You did not even ask me how my trip was!" "How was it?" Scornfully I looked at her. "You almost can not see that I am alive." She stared at me, forcing me to ask her what had happened. I had to ask, "How could that be?" "You don't care. Everyone is concerned except you. I am not going to tell you." I got annoyed; she was throwing dirty hats on my head. "OK, I do not care. Keep it to yourself. Do not disturb me." I opened the book and kept on reading. Later I heard that she had slipped off a cliff and dropped into the crevice between two big rocks. If people did not rescue her in time, she would have slipped to the bottom of the cliffs, which were hundreds of feet high. Listening to her story, all her listeners cried out; her mother even burst into tears. She was really excited about this death-or-life experience. She declared that this experience totally changed her outlook of life. To me, the death-or-life experience of hers was based on an "IF". I never asked her to tell me the details of the accident, and she told everyone else except me. I still did not know what had exactly happened to her, and whether that accident had anything to do with me.

Since then we had rarely talked. I buried myself in teaching and studying.

Sitting in my room, I felt extremely alone. Sometimes I held the book for hours without turning a page. The warmth, the laughter, the softness and fragrance of hers had been circulating around me like a stream; I had been sleeping nakedly in the lukewarm water, now suddenly all the water was gone, I was deserted in the icy wind. Sometimes I got so frightened. It was just like that I was climbing a cliff, the rock which I had my feet on suddenly was loose and slipped away, the rock my two hands were holding on to was loosened too, I was falling to the bottom of an abyss. I was rotating, falling, and waiting to be crushed. I had no foothold; the world was as bare as a big glass ball. I could not cling to anything on it. I was being pulled away from this world. Only she could stop me from the falling.

The third day after I left her home, Oldest Brother came to see me. With his brow frowned, he laughed, "Other people go from a slave to be a general, you go from a general to be a slave. You have so many problems. Who could tolerate you? I had told you to move out of her house as soon as possible. She is unusual; but how did you treat her? You have nothing to give her now; she is looking forward to your success in the future. If you do not treat her well now, how can she expect you to treat her well in the future if your status is changed for good? --We do something for something. Why should she hang on to you with so many better candidates around? She has her heart for you; you must treat her tenderly. I have talked to her. She said she would wait for you at least one year. She could not let it go like this. She asked you to come to see her. -- You really need to change yourself!"

Oldest Brother raised my hope; she might not be that determined as I thought. The next day her sister came to see me and said that her sister wanted me to have dinner at her home.

I went to her home the very night. I was shocked by her beauty. Like a flower blossoming in the early summer, she looked perfect with the round breasts popped up under the white shirt, the white, delicate arms, naturally red lips, and the watery, big black eyes. Seeing me, she smiled, "Welcome back." I smiled back. However I felt a wall between she and me had been set up.

After dinner, she went to her room alone. I felt it was inappropriate for me to go to her room. The invitation of the dinner did not mean that she had changed her mind. I felt cold. I could not attach myself to anything in her home. I had to leave. Before taking leave, I went to her room to fetch a book of mine. She was knitting a wool shirt. I could not help asking, "Who is that for?" "It's not your business." I felt my mouth was full of sand. She was like an icy rock. The whole room was made of cold stone. I said, "I will go back." She said, "It is so late. Why not stay for the night?"

I hesitated. I felt so miserable. I should go. But I feared to leave her. I hoped to stay close to her, so I could see her and smell her. I just stood by her like a fool.

She asked with her eyes on the needles, "Have you talked to your brother?"

"Yes. He told me not to stay at your home."

"That's not the point. If in the school it is not convenient, why not stay at my home? Move your stuff back." She put down her work, "Stay here for the night. Let me make the bed for you." I followed her to the room and helped her to make the bed. I was wondering what the relationship between us was now, how could we suddenly become so strange to each other? We were familiar with each other's body, we had melted into one ? -- Is this She the She I had touched, I had embraced and we had sex together ? How could two persons who had such intimacy become so coldly strange to each other? How did this cold strangeness grow up? -- How could I melt this icy strangeness? God! Help me to find a way!

I stayed. This time, I had to get water to wash by myself. I watched TV with her parents. My heart was bleeding. My presence in her home was a trespass. I must leave, but I was too weak to tear myself from her. I went to bed before everyone did.

In the middle of the night, I heard someone shrieking. The sound was so terribly sad. It was like the cry of a fatally sick baby. It was from the next room. In a minute, it died away. A minute later, it arose again. Sometimes it sounded like it was far away, sometime it sounded as if it was just in the apartment above, sometimes it sounded like it came from the sky. I was scared. --Who is crying? I got up. The sound quietened down a little bit. I went out of my room. It sounded that the cry was coming from the kitchen, I went there. In the dim light, the towels were hung on the white wall; nobody was there. Abruptly the crying disappeared. It seemed that the crier knew that I was up to find him. I stood there for a while; it was quiet. I turned back to my bed. Just after I laid down, the crying started again. This time it was more terribly sharp and sad. I could not hold my tears. -- Oh, my God, who is suffering! Who is being cut into pieces? A sick baby is dying? Why not take him to the hospital! Putting on my clothes, I went to stand in the living room to decide where the crying came from. It was surely coming from an apartment in this building. I went out. I must knock on the door to ask the parents to take the baby to the hospital immediately. They were killing the baby by holding him at home. This was the sound of death. The doors of the next apartment was closed. I went one stair down; all the doors were closed. No noise from any apartments. I stood still, listened, suddenly the crying stopped, and it got deadly quiet again. I intensified my attention, waiting to catch the sound to make sure which room it was from. No, no more crying. Was I wrong? It was just a normal sick baby's cry? Maybe there are more people like me wandering in the stairway because of the cry; I might get some clue from them. I walked down stairs. When I reached the first floor, I heard it again. It pieced through my heart. -- Someone is tearing the baby to pieces. Help, I must go there to help! I must wake up more people to rescue the baby from the butcher! Now the crying is obviously from the street. Maybe they are taking the baby out, to let him scream in the street so nobody would be disturbed in the residential compound? No, they can not do that. Following the sound, I opened the gate of the compound, rushed out to the street. When I reached the street, the sound was gone. The crier or the carrier of the crier might have rushed toward the hospital.

The street was empty. The bluish light flowed on the gray ground. The door frames and the walls on both sides of the street were murky. -- They must have run toward the center of the street. If I run after them, I may catch up with them and solve the puzzle. I ran to the center of the city, nobody was there. Only one vendor was turning on his stove; green smoke trickled out. He was fanning the coal stove. I walked close to him, "Have you heard the crying of a baby?" He shook his head. I got out a cigarette, lit it on the coal fire. "Have you seen somebody running through just now?" He shook his head again, "I just got up." I had to turn back. The crier had finally gone away. I could go back to sleep.

Just when I entered the bedroom, I heard the sharp crying again! It had been waiting for me somewhere! I held the door of the bedroom, standing by it. It lasted so long. It made me freeze. -- No, I cannot tolerate this. I must go out to trace it and see what I can do to stop the suffering. At the very moment when I was opening the door, the door of her parents' room opened. Her father came out in short pants. I was so pleased to have somebody to share my fear. I asked eagerly, "You know who is crying?" He raised his voice, "What are you talking about! Nobody is crying!" I said, "The sound is really sad. Listen!" I put up my hand by my ear, asked him to be quiet to listen. The crying was piecing through from the ceiling, from the windows, from the crevices of the doors. Her father said annoyingly, "I heard nothing. Close the door! Go to sleep!" I wanted to argue with him. -- The sound of crying was going to bring down the house, how could you not hear it! "You have not heard of the crying?" I did not want to argue with him at this moment. I went back, closed the door, and sat in my bed listening to the crying. It went up and down, down and up. It made my eyes full of tears.

In the early morning, I left her home before anyone was up.

The next Saturday night, I could not concentrate on reading any books. I could not find any place but her home to go. I collected all my courage to go to her home. I was so pleased to see her in her room. She was busy cleaning it. "Two friends of mine will come," she announced. She was a little unnaturally excited. I was so familiar with that kind of excitement. It must be one who was wooing her. I told myself that I should leave. However I could not move.

In a while, two guys came in. They were dressed up. One was tall and thin, one was fat and short. The short and fat guy was an official in the bureau of tax, the other was an official in the county government; both were my age. I had seen the fat guy once at her home. She had told me that the fat guy was assigned here after graduating from a college. He wanted to transfer to his hometown, and had sought her advice to make a decision: whether he should stay. Finally he made up his mind to return to his hometown. That was two months ago. The wool sweater she was knitting must be for him. -- She is betraying me. She has no any intention to wait for me. I am a failure in front of these guys. Bitterness accumulated in my heart; it twisted my mind. I knew that I was turning wicked. That wickedness made me feel less painful. I heard one voice yelled at me: Go! Go! Be a gentleman! Leave her alone! Another voice ordered me to stay, to declare my territory, to ruin her night, to tell them that she was mine, they were thieves trying to steal something from me!

She asked them to enter her room. She closed the door. I was left sitting in the living room watching TV with her parents. I was so furious. I tried to control myself. One voice told me to stay away from her room, another voice urged me to break the door and throw the two guys out of the window! --No, I cannot just sit here and watch her to have spiritually sexual intercourse with others under my nose! No!

I stood up, took a stool, pushed the door open and entered her room. All of them turned to stare at me with bewildered eyes. Her stare was full of indignation. She knew my real intention. I just ignored her, "Why not put the tea pot on this stool?" "We do not need a stool," said she. I thrust the stool in the center among them. She had to introduce me to the two guys, "This is my cousin." This introduction had poured gas into the fire. I corrected her, "I am not really her cousin. Do not make a mistake. I am Cai Zheng." They looked stupefied; they did not say anything. There was no chair for me. -- I should leave; I am an intruder hated by her. She just wants to drive me out. -- Be rational, be decent! Get out! "Help yourself, if you need anything, let me know." I mastered myself and stepped out.

I sat outside for a while. I was sour and fidgety. A few minutes later I lost control of myself again. I took a package of cigarettes, reentered her room. I offered them cigarettes. She said, "None of them smoke. Thank you!" The two guys also said they did not smoke. I thrust a cigarette into each one's hand: "Men should smoke, or they are not men." I lit the cigarettes for them.

The fat guy was sitting in the chair by the desk; she was sitting on the edge of the bed near him. The chair belonged to me; she often sat on the bed by me; I often moved to sit by her on the bed, or she came to sit on my legs. The other guy blocked the way leading to the edge of the bed; she left no room for me to sit on the bed. I must set up my flag in front of them. I asked the guy to let me pass to get close to her, then I ordered her, "Move a little bit." She moved. I sat down by her; she stood up. Her face turned pale. I tried to talk to these guys. I became the host, blocked her out of the talk. The two guys had to tell me their names, what they were and so on. The air was so cold that it was almost frozen. She stood by me biting her lips. Without her participation in the talk, the talk dried up quickly. The two guys stood up to say goodbye. I saw them off to the door, "Please walk slowly. Come again."

After they left, she turned back to her room. I followed her. "Did you have a good night?" I needed to apologize to her, or made some excuse for my rude intrusion. As a victor I should be generous to her now.

"Who do you think you are? You want to ruin my life?"

"You got me wrong."

"You acted so ugly. I could not treat my guests in my own room? It is ridiculous! I will treat any men in my room! None of your business, understand? We have no relationship! Have I promised you that I am going to marry you? Have I said I was your girlfriend? What do you think you are?!" She clenched her teeth to say these.

I was nailed there by her declaration. Till that moment, I had never thought of that. Yes, she had never said that she was my girlfriend or she would marry me literally. But? she said more than that, -- what a woman she is!

I got furious; I did not know how to respond, just said, "You may go with any men. Fine. We have no relationship. That is what you said."

"Yes, I tell you once again: we have no hope. I have never thought that we can make it. It is absolutely impossible. Do not cling to me like a serpent! If you want to come to my home, fine, but never enter my room without invitation!" She went to the bathroom and locked the door, left me standing there like being struck by thunder.

I had to leave her home with a dead rat in my throat.

On the way back, I cursed myself for my ugly behavior. -- Why was I so stupid? Why couldn't I control myself and behavior decently? I felt so shameful for what I did. If she gave me a chance to make up some excuses or just laughed at me, I would laugh at myself in front of her, the shame would be washed away. But we were in such a bad mood. The shame was like dark paint on a piece of white cloth; I could not cut it off even with a sharp knife.

Now she was like a big ball in the river, I was going to drown, I wanted to cling to her. Whenever I tried to seize the ball, the waves I made, or the unsuccessful attempt of mine, made it move further away from me -- besides the wave I made, the trend and the wind were taking her away from me. Peng had told me that if I really wanted to attract her, I should pretend that I did not care about her. I worried by doing that she would disappear in no time. I must let her know I could not live on without her! She was my oxygen; she was my water! The world was crushing on me, only she could sustain the roof of mine. -- Forgive me, Lingling! You knew me since we were kids. You should know that I thought we were still kids, we did not have to hide our true feeling. All my stupid behavior was simply because I was crazy about you! It was true that life had changed so much and we had changed so much, we had not grown to match each other's expectation, but we could try to adjust to each other. ?

I went back to my dorm. I could not sleep. The kite was flying away with the wind. I must stop it from drifting further away. I sat down to write a letter to her. I had so much to say. Sometime tears blocked my eyes; I brushed them aside, kept on writing and writing.

The next day, the first thing I did was to ask her sister to take what I had written to her. The second thing was, I needed to figure out who held the string of the kite and could pull the kite closer to me. She loved her mother the most. If I could get support from her mother! ? I must talk to her mother immediately. 

I went to her home, nobody was there. I went to her mother's work unit. Her mother was working at a food-processing workshop near the free market. In the free market, garbage was piled up in the back of the food stacks. Her mother was sitting by a pile of one-thousand-years-eggs with a strong terrible odor. Seeing me, her mother looked like she was facing execution. I asked her to come out. "What's that important? Could we talk here?" She was a little frightened. No, I said. She followed me with a bitter face, like I was going to murder her. I led her out of the workshop to a spare room in the next door. After taking the seat, she lit a cigarette for herself. In the very moment when I looked into her eyes, I realized that she was not the right person to beg for help. But what harm could it do to me if I asked for? I said: "Do you know of something between me and Ling?" She did not respond immediately. She looked bewildered. Moments later, she asked, "What is it?" "You really do not know?" "You are Ling's cousin. I am your aunt. What else?" She pretended to be a fool. -- It is the time to break the paper covering the real relationship between Ling and me. "We had never taken each other as cousins. We just take each other as that kind of boy and girl relationship." She pretended to be shocked, "How could that be? No, it could not be that! You are my nephew! I always treat you well, how could you do that to my daughter? It is against nature! It is wrong!" I continued going my own way, "It is the case. We had been that. I do not think that is a problem; I wish to marry her. I hope you could persuade her to change her mind."

She interrupted me, appeared to be in agony, "No, no! That could never happen! It is against nature. Where should I put my face? I treat you as my son, how could you do this to us? Don’t even think of that! No more talk of that! You are making me ashamed!"

"So you are not going to persuade her?"

"No, no, never! Where can I put my face, my heaven! " She kept talking and talking. I sat there like wood; I did not hear her. Abruptly I stood up and left her murmuring to herself.

Was the kite still there? Who else could possibly give the string a pull to prevent it drifting farther away into the sky? She had a good friend. I met the girl once. She was engaged with one of Peng's high school classmates. Her work unit was close to Peng's home. Why not go to ask her to persuade Ling to pardon me?

I went to the girl's work unit. She was not at work. I went to Peng's home to ask whether he knew her home address. Peng said her boyfriend must know. Without a break, I went to the west of the city to look for her boyfriend. Luckily I found him. I told him my purpose; he said he would like to go with me if he were not at work. He believed that Ling would listen to his girlfriend. He gave me his girlfriend's home address.

The girl's home was in a village at the far east of the city. I went to the village. The village was just like a maze built to trap the enemy in a guerilla war. The house numbers jumped from 500 to 1678, next to 1678 it was 13, and next to 13 it was 301. I walked into one alley and it ended without outlet. I turned back, entered another one, then another dead end. I was walking in a bad dream. I was extremely tired.

Finally I found her home in a long alley in the evening. I was overjoyed to see her. I was secretly pleased for that she introduced me to her parents as "Ling's boyfriend." She told me that two days ago Ling had come to her home. She had asked her why not take me with her, Ling said she did not know where I was. Her mother rushed into the kitchen to cook something for me. I was really hungry. Only by then I realized that for a whole day I had been running back and forth without any food or water. But I stopped her mother. The girl fixed a cup of sugar water for me. I said I needed to talk to her alone. She took me to her room. After I told her that Ling intended to break with me, she said, "I do not think Ling is that kind of girl. She has nobody else. I know her. We tell each other everything. She is very glad to have you back home. Maybe she just wants to test you? She did not mention anything. Do not worry, I will do whatever I can do. But the major work must be done by you yourself." She promised me that she would go to see her tonight and let me know the result.

Finally I got a little from her.

The next evening I went to see the girl in her home. She said she had talked to Ling. Ling did not offer her much chance to talk about this. Ling said she wanted to wait and see. She said: "You could not leave her there. When you have time, just go to talk to her. Only you yourself could change the situation."

The kite was hanging there, not moving away. Yes, I should be confident. I should go to talk to her. I needed to find the string of the kite and pull it back by myself.

The next Saturday evening I went directly to Ling's room. I was so excited to see her. When she closed the door, she asked, "You went to see my mother?" I nodded. She chuckled bitterly, "What did you get?" "You know." "Of course, I knew. You thought it was I who was against you. Actually it was only I was for you! You only made things worse!" -- She has been wishing to make things better? I felt that she had crossed over the wall to my side; I could not help moving close to her to embrace her. A tight hug or a long kiss would eliminate the problem of poor communication skill of mine. But she became a rock in the snow. "Let me go." She brushed off my hands, "Now you are my brother. Behave like a brother." She backed to the other side of the wall. "What are you talking about?" "I mean it. We can not be like that anymore. You see any difference from the attitude of my parents?" "No." "If you want to come to my home as my brother, come; otherwise, do not. We do not have any that kind of relationship and we can not have that kind of relationship. What do you expect me to say? Is it clear? I will see some other men. My parents are pushing me, and it is time for me to get married and move out. This is not my house. I have to go out to see somebody now." She got up and walked out.

I was deserted there. Nobody wanted me to stay one minute longer. -- She is going to other man's room! She is going to offer her service to other man after all the intimacy with me! I had to leave her home.

Fury rose up like smoke. It kept reeling out and accumulating in my heart. When I got back to my room, I gazed at the framed photo of hers on my desk. It was a black and white photo. She looked like da Vinci's Mona Lisa; her smile was sweeter and her eyes were purer. At the time she was sixteen. The smoke of my fury kept reeling out. I was smothered by the smoke. I got out all her photos, began to tear them. I torn her head off her shoulder, cut her head from the middle of her face, torn her chest into two parts, and torn her body into small pieces. I got out the letters she wrote to me years ago and tore them into pieces. Tearing all the stuff gave me a kind of painful relief, but after I had finished tearing all of them, my fury was still there. I sat down to write to her. -- You are a liar. I am pleased to be free of you, so I do not have to be miserable for the rest of my life ? you are an ignorant woman with a fake angel's appearance. Thanks for all the service you had provided for me?

There were moments that I was clear-minded. -- How can I write such a letter to her? She is a sensitive, miserable sweetheart of mine. She is just as lost as I am; she has a battle to fight herself; she must stand aright in this small city among those who know her; to find a good husband is crucial for her to win the battle. I should be tender to her. I should share her burden. How can I hack her with my sword? ? But the wave of fury overwhelmed me. I wrote the meanest sentences I could come up with that could hurt her the deepest and hardest. I asked her to return all my photos and letters promptly. I packed all the pieces of her photos and letters in a big envelope. Before the evening class was over, I gave it to her sister to bring it to her.

She had no response. Three days later, I began to miss her. The missing became stronger and stronger. A photo of hers would be a great comfort for me. Even a small piece of her photo would bring me some comfort. I looked around on the floor. I was so excited to find a piece of the torn photos of hers as big as the fingertip by the foot of the desk. I could not tell which part of hers it was. I could not help feeling it and kissing it. I cursed myself for my insanity and stupidity. Immediately I sat down to write to her to beg her to forgive me: let's start from the very beginning, let's start like we were kids; I miss you so much; I did all of those stupid things because I love you so crazily. Please forgive me! Please give me at least one of your photos .

The next day I gave the letter to her sister. Anxiously I waited for her response. Anything that had a touch of her life would be a great comfort to me. No response the day after. In the night, I wrote another letter to her. The same thing happened the day after: no response. The next night I wrote another letter to beg her forgiveness. I planned to write to her everyday. My letters would eventually melt her icy heart.

Three days later her sister brought me a sealed paper package. There was nothing on it. I was in such a haste to open it. My whole body become stiff when I saw all the letters I wrote to her. None of those I begged her to pardon me had been opened. I had sealed and marked them to prevent her sister from opening them. I examined carefully and hoped that she had opened them stealthily, no, she did not open any of them. She returned all my photos and letters I wrote to her when I was in the college and in the barracks. I tried to find a few lines of her handwriting, a little trace of her life, but no, not any trace of her life.

I grinned to myself: I had been wrong. I must lower my head to beg her pardon again and again. -- She knows that I am crazy for her. She is using my way to treat me. I should accept this with a smile, then gradually persuade her to read what I wrote. I sat down to write a long letter to her. I gave the letter to her sister. The next day, what I got was my letter, unopened. I kept writing and changing the envelope. But all my efforts were in vain. All my letters were returned untouched.

The string of the kite was cut clean by me. The kite turned over the mountain, disappeared into the cloud.

I longed to take a look at her. But I feared to meet her. The term ended. I wanted to stay in the county seat; I opened an English training class. I went to post the advertisement in front of her plant. I had a secret hope that I could see her when I got there to put up the advertisement and let her know what I was doing. It was five in the afternoon. Workers were rushing out of the gate to take the buses. I waited to take the last bus.

She showed up! In the blue shirt, blue jeans, she was shining! I began to shiver. I entered the bus before her by taking the front door. I did not know whether she had seen me, I did not know whether she had got on the bus. It was hard to breathe; I was shivering; I could not stand straight; I could not see clearly and dared not to look back in the bus. I would not be able to say anything if she came over to greet me. The nervousness almost broke me down. I could not hold on. I had to take off when the bus stopped near the school. The bus would go a long way to reach her stop.

The next day her sister came to see me and said that her sister and her parents were frightened that I had stalked her. Her parents hoped that I did not do that. I was deeply hurt by her imagination of me. I said to her sister calmly, "No, I did not stalk her. I happened to run into her."

I always expected one day she would appear by my door, with a smile, like a naughty girl, leaning on the doorframe, "Hello, may I come in?" Before getting my answer, she would say: "I think the game is over! Come on!" and open her arms toward me. Till the training class ended, till the day I packed all my stuff into a bag to move them home in the early August, she had never showed up.

12.The Life

 

When the term ended, the school did not say anything to me. That meant they would not need me any more. After I finished the English training class, I packed everything of mine in one gunny-bag and decided to leave the next day before anyone got up. It was a shame to withdraw from a temporary post. If they did not hire me for the coming term, it suggested that they were not satisfied with my performance. I had tried my best. Teaching two hundred children and making all of them score higher was not an easy job. The school only cared about the score of the final exam. My students had been making progress, but not as much as I had expected.

Yang Min asked me to stay in his room for the night. His plant was near the school. I had a concern that he had no mosquito net. His girlfriend, a worker in the cotton mill, had torn his mosquito net into pieces. They had a number of abortions. The girl asked him to marry her; he did not agree for she was too short. But he could not help asking her out. They always fought; the mosquito net, one of his most precious properties, became the victim of their fights. He had tried to mend it by sticking used newspaper to cover the holes. Later the net was all covered with yellowish newspaper and became an independent newspaper room in his small room. He had to take it down and sold it as recyclable garbage. He had got ten cents for selling it and bought a cup of rice using the ten cents.

He said he got a few pieces of "Deadly Enemy of Mosquitoes"; he would burn it at the night. With that mosquitoes-driving stuff on, he could sleep over-night without waking up. We had grown up in the same village and had experienced the same extreme poverty and hardship. If he could sleep well without a mosquito net, I would have no problem either.

I often wondered how he managed to survive for so many years; more amazingly, he not only survived, but he had the energy to yell to wake up all the girls in his girlfriends' dormitory when she refused to come out to meet him. He was the true representative of the Chinese proletariat (the no-property-class). For the past two years, he had no work to do as other workers in the plant. Of course, he got no pay except for two months. -- After June 4th, the government wanted to "unite" workers, thus the plant got an infusion of government funds to restart operation. After two months, the plant had to stop the machines again. Nobody bought their products. The plant distributed their products to workers as substitute for salary.

I went to his room in the afternoon. He poured out all the rice in a plastic bag to an earth pot to cook porridge for dinner. The earth pot was the only cooking tool he had that could hold water. In one hour the gruel was ready and we began to enjoy it.

He knocked the earth pot with his chopsticks, "She is nice enough not to break this -- she wanted to, I stopped her. I said: silly, you can break my head, but save this pot!" He laughed cheerfully. All those miserable life stories of his seemed funny to him. I could not help joining him in laughter.

We were like brothers possibly because we admired each other for something we lacked but the other was endowed with. He was strong; he never had any doubt that he could make a great success in something. Now he still believed that he could be the greatest writer in the world (not one of the greatest). He wrote and read all the time, but his works, alas, did not deserve my praise. He had managed to go to high school with me. He had studied extremely hard and dreamed of entering Beijing University, but the biggest blow to him was that he was deprived of the right of participating in the National College Entrance Examination. Only ten in our class got that privilege. I did not know how he survived the blow and maintained his mental stability. He had told everyone that he would be a famous writer in the nation at the age of 25, if he did not make it by then, he would commit suicide. Now he was 28, he was not even known in this small county. However, he said now he was only ten years old -- there are ten-year-old old chaps and one-hundred-year-old children. He belonged to the child-type, thus the age calculated by the birth date did not apply to him. He was proud that he could eat rocks and digest them, and could stand all kinds of hardship (this is something most of us Chinese should be proud of). He almost never got sick. He never had a headache though he kept studying for twenty-four hours without a blink of his eyes. I had headache everyday and I often had stomach problem. He had tried to be good at everything -- playing harmonica, participating in speech competition in the county and taking a self-education exam. For all he had tried, he was a failure. Before the speech competition started, he was crossed out from the name list -- he was not qualified. He took the self-education test for a college degree, every time he thought he was ready, the result showed that he was only ready to fail -- he had never scored more than 40 out of 100 for any subjects. He often concluded that the failure was because he was starving when he was taking the exam or that he had had a fight with his girlfriend before the exam. He prepared for the next time. Of course, the next time, the result required him to find more excuses to explain why he failed. Most of the time he studied 16 hours a day, but he did not remember anything after he dropped the books. What's more, his handwriting was so awkward that only he himself could recognize it. I had tried to talk to him seriously about his plan; his loud laughter always drove me away from any serious talk.

He was proud because as a temporary worker he got a room in the plant though the room was so small that it could only hold a bed, a chair, and a small trunk. He put the small coal stove outside of the room. The trunk also played the role of a desk and a table. Inside the trunk were some "Greatest Works of World Literature". Most of the books were stolen from libraries. The number of books had not increased since I left him five years ago.

Finishing the gruel, we took a walk around the plant and came back to read books. Later we went to bed. He called in the "Deadly Enemy of Mosquitoes". In a few minutes, he fell asleep. I could not sleep. Mosquitoes were singing a chorus. The "Deadly Enemy of Mosquitoes" became my enemy and the friends of mosquitoes -- the scent of it was so strong that it was killing me instead of mosquitoes. Mosquitoes stung me on my legs, on my face and on my hands. They attacked me from all angles. I covered myself with the sheet; they stung me through the sheet. I covered my head, only leaving my nose open to air; they intruded into my nose and caused an unbearable itch in my nose. It was smothering in his room. The door was closed to prevent mosquitoes from flowing in. I sweated heavily. In a few minutes, the sheet was wet and I felt the unbearable itch all over my body. I had to get up and went out.

It was much cooler outside. There was a water fountain by the public toilet. I turned on the fountain and splashed water over my head. The sticky sweat was gone. My pants were wet. I went back. The room was crowded with mosquitoes now. I turned on the light. Yang Min laid there with his face up, all of his body was spread on the sheet for the mosquito to enjoy. Black mosquitoes lined up on his legs. I tried to alert him. "Too many mosquitoes on you." He murmured, "What? No, no mosquito, the Mosquito Killer is on." Mosquitoes were rushing in like fog. The door had to be closed. The smoke of Mosquito Killer joined the fog of mosquitoes. Its odor got thicker and thicker and it made me sick. There were several black mosquitoes as big as flies parked on Yang Min's belly. I killed them by giving him a slap, "Mosquitoes are biting you." "Go to sleep. In a while they are going to die." murmured he. -- This is a modern hero who can stand mosquitoes like cows, dogs and pigs. My father had acquired the Gongfu when he was captured by Japanese to construct blockhouses. The Japanese forced them to work all day long until it was too dark to work. At night they were locked up in a room with only iron bars surrounded it. All of them slept in one big room with nothing to cover up. Mosquitoes came from the fields to enjoy them freely. In the very beginning, they could not sleep; later, nobody cared about mosquitoes. Since then, father could sleep soundly without a mosquito net. I did not know how Yang Min, my dear friend, had acquired the Gongfu for the time being.

I walked out of the room again. Mosquitoes owned the world. I could not stand still. I had to keep moving. I wandered into the street.

It was quiet. Occasionally a truck went by, raising waves of dust. I walked slowly, examining the shadow of mine. -- I will leave this city, leave Lingling. I will be out of her sight; she can take a walk with another man without the embarrassment of running into me. At this moment, she must be in sound sleep: her face is baby pink, her lips juicily fresh. . This city belongs to her. I only deserve to live in my home village. I will miss her. If I stay in the city, there may be a chance that she will show up in my dorm. She knows where I am, she knows that I will be waiting for her inside. She can take a walk from her home and arrive at my dorm in twenty minutes. She will bring her smile to me, then we will shed tears together; no explanation needed. Now I am leaving, leaving the position that had given us so much hope. Zhong Bo had kindly found me the job close to her; she had also put in efforts to help me to obtain this position that gave her excuses to reject other wooers; I had decided to stay in this county, to forget all my dreams but to lead a simple life in her arms ? What should I do next? Like all the ancient scholars, to incarcerate myself in a small cell, study hard to change my destiny by taking the National Examination?

A new bridge had just been built on the upstream of the river. It was high above the water. The wind must be strong on the bridge. Mosquitoes would not be able to stay there. I went onto the bridge, lay down on the cement ground on the sidewalk. It was really cool; there were no mosquitoes at all. I straightened myself and spread my hands and feet on the cool cement ground. It was truly comfortable. However the comfort did not last long. The bridge vibrated violently when trucks ran through. Trucks threw up too much dust; the chilliness of the cement ground seeped into my back. And mosquitoes finally found me; they called in their whole clan, formed an army around me and began their attack. I fought back by slapping at my arms, my faces and my neck. After a while, I had to give in and stand up.

I went back to the street. I got terribly sleepy. I did have a little money in my pocket, but I had no identification, I could not enter any hotel. After a while, I turned back to the bridge and sat by the sidewalk again. I sat there thinking how to comfort father? My coming back home would be another blow to him. He would know that I was a failure, kicked off by the girl, driven out by the school. I should not go back home, but I had no other place to go besides my home.

In the early morning, I turned back to the school when the gate of the building was open. I went in and carried the big bag on my shoulder to go to the bus station. The bag became a mountain on my shoulder. It was breaking my back. It cut into my flesh like a knife. The sharp pain thrust into my heart. It was too painful for me to stand it. I said to myself: This is the punishment you deserve. Let it cut into your flesh, into your bone! Are you going to be killed? No, then why can not you stand it? I clenched my teeth to keep on going. I could not stop on the way. Once I stopped, I could not put it back on to my back. Finally I arrived the station. I managed to put my bag on the top of the bus. Sitting in the bus, I was all wet. My legs were shaking. I felt sleepy and thirsty.

Seeing me back home, father asked, "How is the teaching? They appreciate your teaching, right? Take teaching seriously. They are going to take you to be a formal teacher sooner or later. Ask Ling to marry you. It is time for you to get married. How wonderful to have a family with Ling in the city!" What he said made me feel bitter. I just tried to avoid talking to him.

At noon, Oldest Brother came. We asked him to sit down to eat with us. He just sat down by the table, "Riverside School is not going to hire you for the next term?"

I said: "Probably not. Even if they want me, I do not want to waste my time."

"You lost the girl, lost the job. I do not want to blame you. Women are often shortsighted and narrow-minded. --What are you going to do next?"

I told him that I planned to spend the rest of the year preparing for the Examination. He said promptly, "There is no point to teach for seventy yuan a month. If you can get a permanent job or get married with Ling, it will be OK to stay there to teach. To concentrate on preparing the exam makes more sense."

I was shocked that he was ready to agree with me. I said to Second Brother, "Give me a hand, only half a year to go, I need to utilize every minute to study. Do not blame me for not helping you in the fields."

Second Brother responded immediately, "I can take care of all the work! We have nothing for you, but we have enough rice. You can stay in any room you like; you can stay at home to study as long as you want -- even ten years is no problem for me. The only concern is that you may not get along with mother."

I assured them that there should be no problem for that. Oldest Brother said, "I have no objection. Brothers, one fails, everyone fails; one succeeds, everyone succeeds!" He turned to Second Brother, "You must take the responsibility to support him." Then he looked at me, "From now on, you need to study as hard as you did in middle school. Do not worry about anything else."

Both of them were full of enthusiasm. I was a little scared by their enthusiasm: if I could not pass the exam, what could I say to them?

My plan was told to father. He painfully shook his head, "How foolish you are! How can you compete with the new graduates? How foolish you are!" I told him not to worry, I knew what I was doing. "How can I stop worrying?! Others at this age already have ten-year-old kids! You are still dreaming! How can I stop worrying?" To him, the only right thing for me to do was to find a job and get married. But the "right thing" did not allow me to do it. I did not know how to explain all these to him. The reason to rely on graduate examination was so delicate, I could not even convince myself, how could I convince him? It needed delicate reasoning, but he was too deaf. I lacked the strength to yell at him to reach him. I had to give up the attempt and go my own way. 

I had more than twenty key books to read. I must bear in mind most of the contents. I made up a study plan, then I settled down to carry it out.

I was relieved that mother changed to be kind and mild. I had had a very hard time with mother. She beat me everyday when I was a kid. I was in constant fear of her. But I had to do this and that with her. No matter how cautious I was, she would find fault with me and beat me. When I was tending the kitchen fire and she was cooking, in one minute, she would roar: "The fire is too strong!" and she would rush forward to hit me on my head. Then I tried to make the fire a little weaker. The very next minute, she would scream, "The fire is too weak!" and slapped me at my face. I had to make the fire a little stronger by putting in more grass. Then she would came over and looking into the kitchen range, "Cut you to feed dogs! --Thrusting in so much grass!" She would roar and seize my ears to shake me; it was so painful, but I could not cry loudly, or she would beat me more harshly. I was living in a nightmare. For protecting me, father had endless fights with her. After I entered middle school, I could stop her when she tried to beat me, but I could not stop her cursing me and doing other nasty things. Once I had a bowl of gruel ready before everyone was back at home - I had to go to school early; she spat in the gruel to prevent me to eat earlier; I cried and left for school without eating anything. I had truly believed that if she did not die, my misery and my family's misery would not end; for she not only beat me, she beat father, second brother and sister; she fought with everyone in the village. I had feared her so much and the fear became distaste after I grew up. Now she was more than 60. She had lost some of her bad temper. She said a fortune-teller had foretold my fortune. That cost her three yuan, --the highest price the fortune-teller had charged in the village; the fortune-teller charged according to the fortune of those being foretold. The fortune-teller had told her that I had been in big trouble because I met a demon, however some noble men were coming to my rescue. This year was a pitfall for me. I needed to let this year pass peacefully. She repeated hundreds of times what the fortune-teller said about me and asked me to bear that in mind.

Next to my study the buffalo was making loud noises. He dropped stool on the ground, kicked the walls, breathed loudly and walked restlessly. The stench of excrement came across the wall between the rooms. In the evening the room was hot and smothery. We had an electrical fan, it made a loud noise. The room was full of mosquitoes. We had a very good mosquito net, however every morning hundreds of red points were stamped on my legs and hands. Almost every night, I could not sleep well.

During the day, the bamboo garden in front of my house was a paradise for me. The green bamboo occupied the whole piece of empty land by the pond in front of my house. I had opened a small road leading to the center of the garden and cleaned a small piece of land near the pond in my college days. I put a chair by the pond. The cool shadow of the trees and bamboo covered that piece of land all day long. The breeze flowing over the pond made me feel cool even in the hottest time of the day. Wild rice chicken was singing somewhere in the trees by the pond. Sitting in the shadow. Outside of the bamboo garden by the pond, a dozen feet from my seat were some stone steps. Villagers came to wash clothes, wash vegetables or take a shower. They could not see me. Women beat clothes on the stone with wooden clubs. The sound of the beating bounced between hills, it sounded like a lulling song. After beating the clothes, they began to wring them. Dark water with yellow bubbles dropped on the stones and flew over the stones into the pond. Sometimes, one was washing vegetables side by side with one washing clothes. The water in the pond was brown. Pig's shit, dog's shit, bull's shit were all brought into the pond by rain. -How can the dirty water clean vegetables? How can people stand eating the vegetable washed in the brown water?

Sitting in the garden, I often smelt the strong odor of pesticide from the fields and the odor of manure piled up around the village. I felt despair whenever I came to think of the peasants. They had killed almost all the frogs using too much pesticide. A few lucky frogs that survived the poison had been caught by the peasants to exchange for cash in restaurants in cities or cleaned by ducks. When I was a kid, in the day, in the cool shadow of the trees around the pond, frogs were everywhere; sensing the approach of a human, they jumped into the pond one after another, hitting the keyboards; melodious music arose from the water and beautiful water flowers blossomed on the clean water; in the evening, they sung a lulling happy chorus. Now there was no melodious music made by frogs; frogs were hardly seen. The peasants were fighting with insects for food. The pesticide helped them to win the war, but more of them would die of illness caused by pesticide.

Big manure pits were scattered around the village. They made the whole village stunk. Flies and mosquitoes flew around them. When it rained, black water overflowed from the pits into the pond. I could not ask villagers to move the pits away from the village. In the hot days, villagers kept the water buffalo in the small pond by the trees. Water buffalo shit and pee in the small pond; they twisted and splashed water. They made the pond stink. I could not ask people to keep buffalo at other places. The pond in front of the village was the only convenient place to keep the water buffalo on hot days. Villagers splashed pesticide in the fields close to the well, close to the pond and their houses. They had to do that, or their rice would be all destroyed by bugs 

Sometimes, brother was working just outside of the garden near the pigsty. His back was shining in the sun. He dug up the earth, shifted it to the cart. The shovel was up and down. When the cart was full, he pushed the cart to the fields. The cart made a sad creaking noise; the noise disappeared and then came back again. Father sat in the shadow of the eaves of the house; sunlight spread on the ground in front of his feet. He crouched his body as if it was cold. Books in hands, I could not read. Sorrow filled my heart. --Brother has missed his golden time to get married. I had promised to help him out. But how can I make up his lost golden time? Father is sick again. All of us three brothers are strong, but none can do anything to relieve his pain. To take him to see a doctor or buy him some medicine does not cost that much, still we can not offer the money. Oldest Brother had not had any pay for his teaching job for two years. He could have quit, but he kept expecting to be raised to be a state teacher. Second Brother works hard in the fields everyday, but nothing grown could be sold, still he has to pay all kinds of taxes. We are as poor as the bare walls. Father is fighting his illness alone; we cannot give him a hand in his battle. The sorrow often forced me to step out, either to offer a hand to brother or to sit by father for a while. Brother would only let me do a few shovels, then urged me to go back to read my books. Father just kept sighing and expressing negative opinions about my plan. He said I was fooling myself and my brothers. He begged me to seek help from "the higher authorities". To him, there were "the higher authorities", who were kind, generous and caring. As far as I begged their pardon, they would pardon me and give me what I deserved. I wanted to tell him that there was no such "higher authority", I must rely on myself to cut a way out; I knew what I was doing. However I lacked the energy to yell to reach him. He was terribly deaf. My plan needed to be explained in a delicate reasoning with calm discussion. Sitting by him, listening to him talk to himself, I felt something burning and twisting in my stomach.

One day Oldest Brother came to my study, the smothery room. He chatted with me for a while, then with a weird smile he asked, "Do you believe in fortune telling?"

"No."

"Why not? You think you are an intellectual, you should not believe in this kind of nonsense! But many great men believe in this kind of thing! Though Chairman Mao called all the country to eradicate superstition, he himself believed in it. The number of his guarding troop is 8341. It was given by an old Taoism master. You can play with the number; it always ends with either 6 or 8. Add all the digits, you get 16, it means 'always lucky'; and it is double 8; apply minus to the first two digits and the last two, you get 8. Multiply all the four digits, you get 96, that means 'always smooth'; square them, you still get 6 or 8 as the last digit. This is a magic number. That number guaranteed that Chairman Mao was always safe. The amazing thing is that he lived up to 83 years and had been in the position of chairman for 41 years -- he came to power in 1935 and he died in 1976. I did not believe it, now I believe it. You have to believe it facing the fact."

I shook my head. His weird smile lingered on, "Do you want to know what Fengshui masters said about our family?"

If I did not let him say, he would not leave. I had to ask, "What?"

He could not suppress his joy, "They said that in our family, both our generation and the next would have an outstanding one to bring great glory to the family." His smile got broader. Real pleasure spilled over from his smile. Obviously for our generation, it was me; for the next, it would be his son. I could not help smiling back. He did not wait to let me say anything, "I know you do not believe in it, but I tell you, I took three of them to examine it, all of them said the same! One of them secretly told me, 'Mr. Cai, I tell you the truth, please do not let anyone else know, or they would be mad at me -- I have examined tombs for years, I have never seen such a precious location.'"

His stealthy tone amused me. I laughed, "How much did you pay them?"

He said seriously, "None of them took my pay. They only asked me not forget to give them a bottle of good liquor if what they said comes true!"

I said, "I hope they can get at least one bottle of liquor."

My mockery did not affect his mood. He could not suppress his secret joy, "I only let our brothers know this. If I let others know, they will envy us!"

I did not try to reason with him for his superstition. I was grateful to those fortunetellers. They really helped my family to survive the disaster. They gave them hope. Nothing is more important in miserable people's life than hope.

The fortunetellers were helping brothers and mother to support me irrationally. However father was firmly against any superstition. He lost his first lovely wife when he was young. He blamed her death on the Taoism masters who were singing and dancing to drive away the demons in the room where she was having a labor complication. He believed that the Taoism masters scared his wife instead of demons; they drove her soul out of her instead of demons. Heard what the fortunetellers said about my destiny, he said bitterly: "How foolish to believe in those nonsense! Mr. Wang, the famous fortuneteller told everyone after he gave up fortune telling after liberation, 'If I could foretell fortunes and change people's luck, why did I crawl around telling fortunes?' -- They are trying to fool people to make a living! Only the silly are willing to pay for their nonsense!" I wanted to tell him that sometimes it was wise to be fooled, and sometimes it was painful to be wise. Between painfully being wise and happily being fooled, we should choose the latter. However, he just refused to be fooled.

Most of the time, holding my book, invaded by all kinds of unbearable odor, listening to father's sighs, mosquitoes' horrible chorus, the loud curse and yelling of villagers, and soaking in the hot and smothering air, I had bad headaches. Each day I could only read a few pages. Any more reading was just like squeezing sand into the pipes of my nerves. My nerves were stuffed with rough sand; they were going to break. I could not fulfill one day's study plan in one week. --- How could I possibly pass the exam if I go on like this?

A big stone was tied to me. It dragged me down to the bottom of the sea. I struggled to keep floating to the surface. The stone got heavier and heavier. I was losing my energy and hope. I was sinking deeper and deeper into the sea. I always had horrible dreams when I was asleep. In horrible dreams, I often knew that I was in a dream, I struggled to wake up, but it was so hard to wake up! Sometimes I just wanted to stay awake.

At that very time, I got a message from Zhong Bo: Riverside Middle School needed me in the coming term. The salary was the same. I was overjoyed by the news. Brothers asked me to rethink about going back to teach, they wanted me to concentrate on preparing for the exam. Father cheered up. He said this showed that they were satisfied with my performance and they had the intention to retain me as a permanent teacher; I could stay in the city to win back Ling and set up a family there; brothers and villagers would have a foothold in the county seat. What a glory to us! Finally our small village would have one set up a home in the county seat!

I went to the middle school the next day. I was secretly hopeful for getting Ling back. After a period of separation, she would reawaken her feelings for me. We could reconcile. How could we just end like this? We had yet to begin!

13. Father

 

I went back to the school, I was told to take the same room as my dorm. When I got to the dorm, another young teacher was already living in it. He took the inner part of the room and left the outside to me. He would walk through the narrow passage between my bed and the wall to his space. I had no private space of my own.

The teaching job, although it occupied most of my time during the day, did not need much intelligence. It kept me busy and left me less time to suffer anxiety. It offered me a back-up plan: if I failed the exam, I still had a job to support myself. At night, I could read as late as I wanted. Most of the time when I woke up in the morning, I found that I had forgotten to turn off the desk light and had half sat up in bed with clothes on. The problem was that I needed a nap after lunch. During the naptime, my roommate often had a dozen students gathered in his space to score the quiz. The students ran in and out of the room, talking and laughing. I pulled down my net, still I could not sleep. Almost every day it was like this. As a temporary teacher, I felt below my roommate. But I had to talk to him. One day, with a smile, I said to him, "Would you please do me a favor not to take in so many students during the naptime?" He said, "I will try." The next day, the same thing happened. I was tortured by the noises. Sometime I was so anxious that I wanted to shout out, "Get out of here!" But I could not do that. The next day I tried to talk to him with a smile again. He put on an unnatural smile: "Cai Zheng, I know it is a critical time for you; it is the same for me. This is the first term that I have worked here. For earning this position, I had taught in a rural school for six years and studied in a university for another two years; you do not know how much time and money I spent getting this position. They could send me down if I perform so-so. The best strategy to improve the performance of the students is to test them everyday. I have to ask students to help me to score the quiz. I can not have them do it in the corridor or on the playground and I can not keep them late at night. This is the only time and place I could utilize them. I hope you understand me. I do not take a nap myself. Why don't you adjust a little bit to study at noon?" I had nothing to say. To live is to stand all kinds of torture. So, stand it.

I had not seen Ling for several months. I really longed to take a look at her. -- Perhaps she has changed her mind a little bit while I was absent? She might have missed me as I had missed her? Does she still keep her previous promise that she would wait for me for another year? Anyway, no matter what has happened, I should let her know that I am still waiting for her.

One evening in the end of September, I asked my roommate to go to her home with me. Ling's sister was in his class. He could go there in the name of visiting his student's family; I would be the one to lead the way for him. My roommate said, "I just want to take a look at your sweetheart. I heard she is very pretty." I said, "I will accompany you. I will not say anything. I am done with her."

On the way, I was struggling with myself: what should I say to her? Should I pretend to be unconcerned? Should I show her that I have been in deep sorrow? Or should I try to laugh frequently to show that I have been happy without her? Will I shed tears --if she takes me to her room alone? ?

I feared to meet her. When we reached her home, I wanted to turn back. I stood by her door. "Is this her home?" asked my roommate. I did not respond. -- No, there is no point for me to see her at this moment. I should be a man. Coming to see her was announcing that I am still in the mud. She will look down upon me. I hesitated. At the very moment, the door opened. Out came she! In a black suit, wide open in the chest, her shocking beauty hit me like a bomb. I wanted to hide somewhere, but it was too late. Following her was a man. She did not see me. She stood there, still for a second, waiting for the man to come out. We gave way to them by backing to the wall. The tax collector also did not see us. He had his hand slightly on her waist, drawing a line to declare his territory. They walked down stairs.

The light was extinguished in my heart. The kite crushed into the sea. My two feet were betraying me. I had to rely on the wall.

"Is that she?" asked my roommate, "Should we go in?"

--No, her home is empty. There is no point to go in. She had already given me the answer.

I hesitated for a while then knocked on the door.

Her parents accepted us warmly. I introduced my roommate, then sat there like a fool. The pain was gnawing my heart. -- She did not even greet me! Maybe this is a better way? Oh, I should not have come to hit my head on the rock!

On the way back, my roommate laughed, "You are like walking in a dream! There are hundreds of thousands of pretty women! Do not be like that. You have lost your soul! You almost dropped the cup when her mother poured tea for you. I was sweating for you. I can understand the feeling?"

-- She is keeping her new promise. She already belongs to others. During the time I was absent, she had delivered herself. Nobody is to blame. Everyone is seizing the time to pursue her own happiness. I should have accepted the reality a long time ago. It is time to get rid of all the unrealistic hope of having her back. It is time to dig a deep hole to bury all the memory related to her.

That night, I went to bed early and did not read a single page.

 

At the end of the term, Peng, I and Chong, a teacher in Peng's school, went to the provincial capital to take the exam. The first day I forgot to turn in a piece of paper as required. This worried me so much that I could not sleep that night. The following days I did so badly that I almost wanted to quit as the others -- in the last day of the exam, only a few people were left in the examination room. After I finished the two and half day exam I was exhausted.

In the very afternoon after we finished the exam, three of us took the bus to go home. For the first time, I had carsickness. I could not help feeling nauseous. I had a terrible headache. --One year's preparation was gone. I had to prepare another year. Under such tremendous pressure, could I carry it through? For preparing for the exam, I had not concentrated on teaching. The school leaders hated the former teachers to take the exam, how could they tolerate me? Ling was going to get married. Father was sick, I could do nothing to stop the deterioration of his health. I could not imagine what would happen to me the next year if I failed the exam. I could not stop sighing. Headache, nausea, and desperation made me feel I'd rather die than live on.

The bus jolted on the narrow dirt road. It took five hours to run one hundred miles to reach our county seat. When the bus reached the seat, the dim streetlight was on. When we got off the bus, Peng said: "Let's ask Heaven to foretell our fortune -- I have a coin, you have a will: either National Symbol represents pass or Wheat represents pass. Throw it and see what shows up. Whenever I want to know something unknown, I do this; all the time it gives me the right answer!" I just wondered how he became so superstitious. He was like this before.

Chong said: "I know I have no hope. Let me try first. -- Wheat represents pass." He got the coin and threw it to the sky. Ding! --The silver coin fell down. Both of them bowed to examine it. After seeing it, Peng said nothing; Chong said: "I knew it. I do not care."

Next it was Peng's turn. He got the coin, mouthed some air to it and announced his will loudly: "National Symbol is Pass! Go!" He hit the coin on the ground. The coin jumped up and down, down and up, made several circles and lay down. He stooped over the coin and stood up straight, yelled, "No mistake! I got no hope too. I will prepare for the next year. Now it is your turn." He handed me the coin.

I did not believe in this; what's more, I was afraid that the coin would confirm the bad luck I feared. Keeping a little hope was better than losing it all. I refused to throw it.

"Have a try! We had been just accompanying you to take the exam! We all knew that you are the only one to pass!" said Peng. I said: "I believe both of you will pass, but not me. Anyway I will not believe it." "Try! Have a go!"

I could not resist their persuasion. I took the coin, announced, "Wheat is pass!" I threw the coin high to the sky. Ding! The silver coin dropped on the ground like a fish and it began to roll along the paved road. Both of them ran after it. Finally it reached the edge of the road, made several circles and stopped by the curb. In the dim light, they had to lower their heads to examine it.

"Pass! See! Wheat!" Peng cheerfully shouted. I was afraid to see the result. I fell behind. They asked me to come close. I approached the coin. The coin was not face up, it almost stood straight by the cement curb with the wheat showing up. I said: "That does not count! It is not facing up but standing straight." Peng shouted: "Why didn't ours look like that?! It does count! Anyway it is Wheat showing up! Now you should relax. From the very beginning I know you are the only one that will pass!" Though I was uneasy for their foretold bad fortune, I was really a little pleased for mine. "Why don't you try again?" I asked them. Peng said he had tried several times, the result had been the same. I asked them not to believe in it.

I followed Peng to his home to have dinner. Just when Peng entered the room, he announced: "Cai Zheng has passed!" His father came out to greet me, "Congratulations! I have analyzed your bazi, it says so. You have good fortune. We all know that." I had to clarify it. However they just took it as real and showered me with congratulations. His mother had cooked some noodles. Though I still felt nauseous, I could eat some warm food. That was the only thing I ate for the whole day.

The next morning, I took the bus to go home. In the small town, the atmosphere of Spring Festival was very thick. Everywhere there was red. I had not spent Spring Festival at home for the past five years. The atmosphere reminded me of the sweet smell of fried cakes and the sweet smell of the new coat when I was a child.

I went to father's room directly. Father was lying in the bed. His hands were cold, his face gray. When he saw me, a weak smile crawled onto his face. That smile made my heart tremble. I held his hands, sat on the edge of the bed. In a very thin voice, he asked me how I felt about the exam. I shook my head; I could not lie to him. I could not put on a smile. The wave of sorrow overwhelmed me. I could not raise my head above the water for a single breath.

He said: "You should have known that is not the right way to go! How could you compete with the students at school? The right way is to talk to the leaders in the Bureau of Education, tell them: I like teaching! Please turn me to be a permanent teacher. Ask Ling to marry you. Whenever I came to think that you two brothers have no wives at such a pile of age, I could not sleep!" I asked him to take care of himself, not to worry about me. He said: "What do I have to worry about myself? Earth has buried me to my neck. You two have a life yet to live! I cannot close my eyes." He began to sigh again.

I asked, "How do you feel?" He said that he felt bitter in his mouth, felt dizzy and could not see clearly. I felt his swollen face, it was hot; I felt his swollen feet, they felt as if there was water under the skin. "Has the doctor come to see you?" "It is useless." I asked whether he had any medicine. He said, all the medicine was useless. A shot was really helpful, but he hoped that he would overcome it without a shot. I asked where Second Brother was? He shook his head. I was angry at my brothers. How could they leave father, as sick as this, lie in the bed alone and not ask the doctor to come to see him or did not give him any medicine! They wanted to murder him? I helped him to sit up, then I went out to look for brothers.

I found brothers at Oldest Brother's home. The house was crowded with villagers. They were preparing festival cake. Brothers welcomed me with smiles. "How was the exam?" asked Oldest Brother. "No hope." I said flatly. He answered me with a smile, "How can you tell? You said the same after the College Entrance Exam. The Fengshui master said the luck of our family is turning ?" I cut him off angrily, "How could you just let father lie there, not ask the doctor to come and even not give him any medicine?" His warm smile was chopped off from his face. I turned to Second Brother, and almost yelled at him, "How can you treat father like this?" Second Brother did not say anything. Oldest Brother said coldly, "What can we do? He is seventy years old. The doctor refused to come. So many times we begged him to do us a favor to come. We did not want dad to die before you came back. Now you are back, you should take care of him. We have done our best. It is easy for you to say something. If you became an officer, he would be happy and healthier; at least, you can send him some money. He loves you the most, why don't you take the responsibility to take care of him? Even Second Brother has done his part -- he spent all his money on father. He is still single. Like a playboy, you play with girls around the country, do whatever you like to do! What can we do? We have no income. I am in debt. Second Brother gets less than three hundred yuan in a whole year. Only you get seventy yuan a month. Could you spare a few yuan for father? You should go to ask the doctor to come to see father."

My anger turned inward and had no way out. I had to suppress my anger, "OK, I will go to ask the doctor to come."

He said, "We could not persuade him to come. Maybe he will buy your face." Second Brother just kept silence. I turned back home.

Father had already got up. He sat by the table holding the fire jar. I did not know how to comfort him. If I had any good news for him, that would be the best medicine, but what good news had I? No hope for marriage, no hope for a job, no hope for the exam, no hope for anything good! What a mess I had created!

I tried to persuade him to eat. He said he was not hungry at all and the food tasted bitter. I sat by him, holding his hands. The big knots of his hands were wrapped in thin, rough skin. He said calmly, "Long Life is wise. I will follow him."

Long Life was the same age as father. He had lung cancer. He had six sons. None of them could offer him the basic medical care. One month's treatment would cost ten thousand yuan; each son of his could only earn at most one thousand for a whole year, and every one of them had a family to support. One night he took pesticide and died in the cow pen. Purple blood ran out of his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. His fingernails were all broken for he had scratched the hard ground; his front teeth were all broken because he had bitten the earth. The earth was scratched and covered with dried blood. People in the village praised him for his consideration for his children. It was said that their sons intentionally put the pesticide in the cow pen where he could easily go, and put him in a separate room where he could kill himself without waking up others. Whenever I came to think of the struggle that old man went through before he died, I felt the killing pain myself. Father's mentioning of him scared me. I wanted to cry to plead with him to carry on. I yelled at him, "Do not think of that! You will be fine. You are stronger! Your illness is easy to cure; it does not cost much money!"

I did not know whether he had heard me. He just murmured, "It is a shame to be a burden to children "

The sharp pain in my heart made me tremble, I yelled at his ear again, "Do not worry, we will cure you!"

He just pitifully shook his head.

Father needed immediate treatment. In the afternoon, I went to see Doctor Tong.

There was a public hospital in the town. The procedures for seeing doctors were too complicated. People must run from one window to the other; each window only had a small hole for people to put through a hand to reach the clerk sitting inside. The patients must know how to read, or they were always at the wrong window. The clerks sitting inside often yelled at people. The medicine the doctors prescribed was dependent upon what they had in storage rather than what the patients really needed. If it was not for surgery, usually people feared to go there.

Doctor Tong had opened a clinic himself. He used to be a bare-foot doctor; later he got a diploma from a corresponding medical school. Before I joined the army, he had constructed a hut by the road leading to the town, now the hut had become a three storied building. It was said that he was so rich that he did not have a clear idea how much money he had. His son had been blackmailed by his classmates. The little man kept stealing money to please his classmates; the money he had stolen amounted to hundreds of yuan. Doctor Tong never noticed that until the police found it out.

His clinic was not only a clinic, but also a stop for people going to the town. People could stop by to have a cup of tea; if it were the mealtime, he would invite anyone to have meal with him. When people had an emergency and the sick ones could not go to see him, even if it was midnight and it was snowing, he would rush to the sick with his medical box. He was extremely good at giving shots of Penicillin. You had cold. -- Do you like to take a shot? He would ask. -- Yes. He would say, "Take off your pants." He would give you a shot of penicillin. When you had some red points on your skin, he would order, "Take off your pants!" and give you a shot of penicillin. When you had a stomachache, he would say, "Take off your pants!" and give you a shot of penicillin. A shot of penicillin was his all-cure magic. Of course, father needed the same shot. For each shot he charged eight yuan, much lower a charge than that in the hospital.

When I reached his clinic, he was having his lunch. He had become a stranger to me. His face had steamed lobster's redness. His belly protruded out. His voice was louder, and his smile more approachable. He warmly invited me to join him to eat something. I told him I had just had my lunch and asked him to go on eating. His wife fixed me a cup of tea. Sipping the tea, I looked around.

On the wall by the table where Chairman Mao's standard photo used to hang, hung the Certificate of Graduation of the Central China Corresponding Medical School in a frame. It was the same certificate as I had seen five years ago, but the paper inside the frame had turned yellow and the frame changed to be golden. On the paper listed his scores for the graduation exam of the corresponding medical school: "Pathology, 95 Points. Medicine, 98 Points. Medical Theory, 90 Points. Medical Practice, 99 points."

After finishing eating, he cleaned his greasy lips with a handkerchief and turned to me, "What are you here for, Mr. Cai?"

I was astonished to that he did know what I came for. I said uneasily, "My father has been sick for days. Could I bother you to go to my home once more? I appreciate that you took so much effort to keep him going. We still need your help."

He had hooked his little finger to clean his teeth. With the finger in his mouth, he walked close to the table, got out a book, examined it and asked, "How is he doing?"

I hated to see him not listening to me. But I felt bad because I had no money. I said, "He is not doing that well; I guess he needs a shot. He said the shot from you was very effective."

He opened the book, "I gave him a shot last month. Your brother has not paid me. They told me that you would bring the money. We would like to clear the account for this year. Your brothers totally owed me 128. Do you want to clear it now?"

I felt embarrassed. Awkwardly I said, "Sorry, I have not brought the money today ."

He waved his hands, "I trust your brothers. You will be successful. But to be frank, your father is not curable. You have asked your classmate to come to see him, what did he tell you?" He smiled wearily.

When I first came home, I asked a classmate of mine in the local hospital to take a look at my father. My classmate had just graduated from a medical school. Before he came to see father, he had visited Doctor Tong to get some information about my father. My classmate had repeated what Tong said: "He is at the age, to extend one day is equal to two half days. You can not expect too much " Since then I did not ask my classmate to come to see father. I believed that father was basically in sound health; he only had some lung problem. If his lung problem could be controlled, he could live up to ninety years old.

Doctor Tong continued like a friend, "Mr. Cai, you may not agree with me. It is his age. Understand? No cure. I can give him a shot today, but how about tomorrow? He is suffering. I suggest to you that you let it go. Everyone will let it go at his age. Your brothers have extended his life long enough. It is not worth it?"

I wanted to slap him on his fat face. He just worried that we could not pay him. This son of bitch! He had sentenced father to death a long time ago. I suppressed my anger, no more mention of asking him to give father a shot. It was inappropriate to ask him to give father a shot without giving him cash. I had to bring something to father. I just humbly asked him to recommend some medicine. He recommended some very expensive nutrition stuff. I could not even offer to loan from him. I asked him to loan me a box of cheap nutritious medicine and a bottle of Chinese medicine.

It was cold, the sky turned dark. It turned to be evening so quickly. The trees were gloomy, the hills were gloomy, the fields were gloomy and the sky was gloomy. Walking alone in the gloomy world, I felt the sky was crushing down on me. Father was close to death; this guy refused to come to cure him. We could not offer to send him to the hospital. If I had become an officer, I could take him to live with me in the barracks occasionally; he could enjoy the free medical care there.

When I reached home, I showed father the medicine. He held the delicate box, felt it with his fingers, "This must cost a lot. Why do you waste money on me? You should save for getting married. Return it!" I said, "I had already paid for it. It could not be returned. It is cheap. Finish it, I will get some more for you." He murmured, "Do not waste money anymore?."

The coming days were the Spring Festival. I hoped that the atmosphere of the festival would cheer him up, but it did not even cheer myself up. I could not hide my dismay about the future. The coming year would be horrible if I did not pass the exam. I had nothing to comfort father. I just tried to stay close to him as much as possible. He became a little better a few days later after I returned. But he turned worse after the fourth day of the new year. In the night, his feet were burning hot. He shivered; his teeth clicked; he groaned loudly. My nerves were stretched to be unbearably intense. I ran out to wake up Second Brother. He said father often appeared like that. He said father had the iron will to stand that.

I went back to the bed. I could do nothing else but hold his hot feet close to my chest. His violent shivering, his unconscious kicking and loud groaning scared me. I called him; he opened his muddy eyes to stare at me, said feebly, "Too painful? go to sleep yourself. Do not wait here. I will be fine." I had to run away from him; I could not stand the torture. I went to sleep in Second Brother's bed in the other room.

I could not let him keep on like this. What he needed was only some effective medicine! We had no money; nobody I knew had money to lend to me. One hundred yuan would kill the serpent clinging to him. I must go to the county seat to borrow some money to ask the doctor to give him a shot. I decided to go to the county seat in the afternoon of the seventh day of the New Year. While I was collecting my stuff, father sat in the room staring at me with his muddy eyes. I went to have lunch at Oldest Brother's home. They had an earlier lunch. After lunch I could take a bus heading to the city. When I was leaving home, I met father in front of the village. By the help of a stick, he was on his way from my home to Oldest Brother's home. He asked me in a weak voice, "Where are you going? Had lunch?" I was in a hurry. "Going to the county seat." I kept going. I had told him several times that I was going to the county seat, I did not know why he had not got my answer. "Where?" He repeated his question, just like talking to himself. I had to run. After a few steps, I turned back, he was still standing there with a worrying look, staring at me and waiting for the answer.

The middle school was empty. Few teachers were there. Dropping my bag in the dorm, I went to see the school accountant. I hesitated to knock on his door. -- Does he have the money at hand? He may ask me to get the schoolmaster's signature -- that is the official procedure. The schoolmaster may not be at home, thus he has the excuse not to lend me the money. That will be humiliating. I am only a temporary teacher; do I have the right to borrow money from the school? Payday is the tenth, only three days to go; father's sickness is periodical; hopefully he will defeat it once again! I walked back and forth in front of the accountant's home. One minute, I wanted to go into his home quickly to ask him to lend me the money; in the next, I thought I should not get humiliated by asking this inappropriate favor. Suddenly the accountant stepped out, scared me by his greeting: "Happy New Year, Mr. Cai! You are here so early! New term begins the day after tomorrow; the teachers will have a meeting in the evening." I returned his greeting and shyly ran away, just like that I was going to steal something and ran into the owner of the property.

I decided to see Zhang Fei. I went to his home in the evening. Before I met him, I decided to borrow money from him; when I faced him, I changed my mind. He had just bought a new truck on loan. He had a retired father and three brothers to support, and he had been playing around with girls. We were good friends, but I had never asked him to lend me money. I did not want to be rejected by him; that would smear our friendship, no matter he was really short of money or not.

His parents were really happy to see me. They said that I was the only friend of Fei's who was an intellectual. They hoped that I frequented their home more often. How wonderful if Fei only made friends with people like me -- Alas! How could he have that luxury! All of his other friends only knew money, girls and gambling! His father said he never drank during the festival, but he would like to have a cup of liquor with me. All those flattery made me firmly determined not to borrow money from Fei.

After drinking and eating in Zhang Fei's home, I went back to my dorm with two hands empty.

I could not find anybody that could lend me the money. My students' parents were not the right ones to borrow money from. Peng and Yang Min, my best two friends, were struggling to survive, they might have expected to borrow money from me. Zhong Bo had money, but he was the one to help me locate a job, not one to borrow money from; what's more, his wife wore the trousers at home.

I was just like a bird flying in a small room that was sealed tightly all sides. I tried this side, failed to get out and dropped onto the ground. I came up with the hope that the other side would lead me to freedom; I tried the other side; no outlet too. I circled inside the room, finally I dropped down upon the ground, tired and stupefied, forgot what the real purpose of my struggle was. I walked from one corner of the city to the other corner. People were hurriedly moving in all directions with heads on their shoulders, none knew that I was in urgent need of a small amount of money to rescue my father from the teeth of death!

In the evening of the ninth, after drinking at a student's home, I returned to the school. All the teachers had gathered in a big classroom to have the first meeting of the new term. Moments later when I was in, the vice schoolmaster asked me to come out. I went out with him. When we were alone in the corridor, he said, "We had been looking for you for a whole day; your uncle called in this morning saying that your father had passed away."

A bomb exploded just above my head. "What? You mean my father is in critical condition?"

"No, he has passed away"

--No. They just want me to get home immediately. Father will not pass away! No! ?

He told me that I could have a few days off.

Slowly I came back to consciousness. -- Father has passed away, what does that mean? He is in another world; he can never talk to me? He can never hear me? He will no longer walk in this world? No, father will not pass away at this moment. I am quite sure that he has just fainted! They have mistaken that as passing away! He has not eaten anything for several days! Only I know that! Nobody would rescue him besides me! He is waiting for me to rescue him! I must get home as quickly as possible to pull him back from the other world!

It was dark outside. No bus. The best way to get home earlier was to ride a bike. I needed a bike. My roommate had one. I asked him to come out of the meeting room. I told him that they said my father was gone. I needed to borrow his bike to go home. I thought my request would be satisfied when he heard my father was gone. However he said: "How can you ride a bike in such a dark night? It's not safe. I will not let you do that. If you want to have it, you can have it tomorrow morning." Tomorrow morning I could take a bus. I had never borrowed his bike before. He had spent all his savings to buy it. He carried it on his shoulder to climb three stairs to our room every time after he had used it.

I said: "Please, if I damage it, I would buy you a new one!"

"I am not concerned about my bike, but your safety. Your father has died. What difference will it make if you go home now or tomorrow morning?"

--I need to pull him back from the other world! He has just lost his consciousness. He must be rescued as early as possible. Time is life! ? But I could not explain all these to him; I was worried that he would think that I was insane.

I just asked, "You really don't want to let me have your bike?"

He stood firm at his point: for my safety, he would not let me have it now. He would like to lend me some money -- he handed me ten yuan. I hesitated for a while, took it and ran out of the school.

I did not know where to go. Zhang was out of the town today; he might give me a ride if he was at home. Now I needed a bike, who else could lend me one? Ling's father had one; it was a shame to go to her home. Wu Qiang, a combat friend of mine who lived by the bus station might have one. In a haste, I went to see Wu Qiang. When I got close to his rented hut, I saw no bike parking outside. He was at home. When he got to know I needed a bike, he said that his wife's brother had one. If I needed, he could go to ask his brother-in-law to lend it to me; his brother in-law lived four kilometers away. He would go there on foot and ride it back. It would take him another hour to get the bike -- and only if the bike was at home! No, I said. He told me that Zhao Yun, another combat friend of ours, lived nearby with his newly married wife. They had a bike. Immediately he took me to his home. Truly, Zhao Yun had a bike, but it was a lady's; his wife would ride it to work in the middle night. Wu asked me to stay at his home for the night. I must go home immediately. I thanked him and took leave.

-- I am in a horrible dream. I can not do anything I want to do! I can not get anything I want to get! Who has blocked my way that makes me not be able to fulfill any will of mine! Who can block my way? Now, I want to go home to rescue my father! Nobody can block my way! Nothing can block my way! I have my feet! I can walk!

I set out on foot.

--Father is waiting for me to pull him back. I can not waste my time on walking. Time is life! I must stop a vehicle! There were a few trucks and cars passing by. I had the ten-yuan note in my hand. If anyone would like to take me home I would give him the money -- it only cost one yuan to take a bus to my home. When I saw a vehicle light approaching, I went to stand in the middle of the road and waved the money note. The vehicle came close, the horn was beeping wildly. It gave no sign of stopping. I had to jump to the roadside; the vehicle ran by me angrily. The dust it brought up submerged me. After several attempts, I gave up hope of stopping any vehicles. I kept walking hurriedly.

After walking for a while, I felt tired. Sadness drained my strength. I decided to stop a vehicle again. If I got on a vehicle heading south, in one and a half hours I would be at father's side; a miracle would possibly happen. If I walked on foot, I would even not be able to reach home until the next morning.

I stood by the road and shouted with the bill in my hand. No vehicles stopped. The whole world was just totally indifferent to my painful anxiety and urgent need. After more failed attempts, I decided not to try any more to avoid frustration. Save all my energy to walk. Walk. No more looking back for coming vehicles. I walked and walked. When I turned back, the light from the city showed that I had been walking in the same place. I changed my mind again. I would try to stop all the vehicles. There must be one nice guy who would give me a lift! --If they stopped, if they listened to me!

I went to stand in the middle of the road, risked being smashed to stop any vehicle. Finally a jeep stopped in front of me. One guy roared, "Fuck you, what are you doing? You want to commit suicide? You want to rob us?" I approached the jeep, said I was a teacher in the Riverside Middle school, I just got the message that my father was dead. I wanted to go home immediately. "Get in first." I raised the bill. One guy said: "We are police; who wants your money! Tell us, why did you stop the vehicle!? Tell the truth!" They sat me in the middle. They smelled of liquor. I had to repeat that I was eager to go home to see my father. They asked me to show them my identification. No, I did not have one. I had never thought that in my home county I needed identification. They asked me how much I made, who was the head of the school, where the school was located, when I began teaching, and what I taught. I told them. They could not believe that I only made 70 yuan. I told them I was a temporary teacher. They got more suspicious. How could Riverside Middle School, a school so many teachers around the county sharpened their heads to get in, hire a temporary teacher?

Finally, they seemed tired of interrogation. One guy softened his tone, "Why don't you go home tomorrow?" I said I could not wait. "You are crazy. In the night who dares to pick you up? All the drivers are frightened of robbers; many of them have been killed by doing this! Only we dared to stop. We have guns! We are looking for robbers." They said they were not going to my town, but to Pine Town. Pine Town was ten miles away from my home. Li Liangqing, a teacher of mine in middle school, was in Pine Town Middle School. I told them I would like to go to see Mr. Li and borrow a bike from him, and asked whether they knew Mr. Li. One guy said, "He was your teacher? He is a really kind man!"

Mr. Li was the teacher I liked the most. Though he had often threatened to kick me, even as a child I knew that he was very fond of me. When I left for college, he gave me ten-yuan, -- it was one third of his salary by then. I had visited him once after I graduated from college. At the time, he had to ride a bike to take his wife to work in the county seat every day. His dream was to teach in the county seat. But he was stuck in that town. I heard that only by the help of his wife's distant cousin who was the magistrate of the county he got there. He had become a Buddhist. He would give me whatever I asked for.

They dropped me by the school. Easily I found the flat Mr. Li was in. He was very pleased to see me. He asked how I got there and whether I had super. "Silly," he said, "if you have not had your supper, let me know. --What are you going to do?"

I told him that they said my father was dead. His eyebrows twisted, "How could the kind old man die?" I told him I needed his bike to go home. He got alert, "Could you stay here for the night? It's dark, don't be silly." I said I must go. He went inside and took out his bike, "If you change your mind, come back, stay here for the night. I could not see anything outside. You may have a better eyesight. Be careful. Ride slowly. Stay away from vehicles. How could the nice old man die?" I did not have the mind to talk. I got on the bike and started out.

The wind was cold. It cut my ears. In the dim starlight, I rode the bike on the high way. After passing our town, I had to ride the bike on the road among the fields and hills. The tiny road on the ridges of the fields was so hard to follow. I fell so many times. When I reached the village, I was sweating. Dogs began to bark. The red lantern hung outside of the houses shed some light in front of the village. Just when I pushed the door open, someone cried out: "Deaf man, the dearest son of yours is back!" Hearing that, tears rushed into my eyes. Mother began to cry loudly.

Father was lying on the ground in the yellowish quilt, on a pile of rice stalks by the wall. I knelt down by him. In haste I felt his forehead. It was as cold as iron. I felt his hands, they were cold. I put my hand inside his cotton-padded coat and felt his belly. It was warm! I was thrilled to find that! -- He is alive! He is truly waiting for me to rescue him! Immediately I brushed aside tears, pressed his Middle of Man. While everyone was crying loudly, I stealthily pressed that point heavily. I pressed and looked at his face, expecting to see some sign of waking up. But no, there was no muscle movement besides the movement caused by my fingers. I pressed and pressed, till I began to sweat, till my hands were sour, he did not move his lips, he still tightly closed his eyes. There was no response. Tears blurred my eyes again. I cried in my heart: father, I am too late. I am too late! 

They told me what had happened.

This morning father was at home alone. Mother came back to check him. She found that he was breathing heavily and kicking his feet. She screamed; several neighbors rushed in. Madam Tao said it was time for him to go, we must carry him to the ground immediately. Father's mind was still clear. He raised his hand, pointing to the jar by him. Nobody knew what he wanted. They were eager to move him on to the ground. According to the tradition, one must die close to earth. They sent someone to look for brothers. When brothers came, father could not speak, he opened his eyes and mouth but no sound was given out. He still pointed his finger to the jar by his bed. In haste they threw a bunch of rice stalks on the ground and moved him unto the rice stalks. His eyes closed slowly and stopped breathing. That was ten o'clock. At the time I was wandering in the streets of the county seat.

In the afternoon, they checked the jar. They found the medicine I bought for him: the Wheat Spirit. It had not been opened. They suddenly understood father's intention: he wanted to have some of that Wheat Spirit! He thought it could cure him at the critical moment! He wanted to be cured! He did not know that the medicine only had some sugar in it! He saved that for the critical moment. Nobody got his idea at the time. They were in haste to move him on to the ground to die at the right place. None had ever thought of rescuing him. He had fainted; he had not really gone by then. If there was a shot, he would be OK. Now thirteen hours had passed, it was impossible to pull him back from the other world. If I was at home! -- But why was I not with him? Why? Why?

They told me that the day I left, he kept asking until the night, "Where is Young? Why doesn't he come home to have lunch? Why doesn't he come back to have super?" -- Why didn't I explain to him patiently that I was going to the county seat? Maybe at that time, he had the fear of death, and wanted me, his dearest son, to stay close to him to give him a hand in the struggle against death?

I was frightened by something. -- Father is dead. His body is here. His soul has left this body; he is circling in this room. He knows that he was murdered by us? Villagers crowded our house. They were accompanying father for the night. They were accompanying me. Their presence made my fear less severe. I sat on the rice stalks. I just wanted to be close to him. My brain was empty.

The next morning, the new coffin was moved in. It was placed by father. It needed to be painted immediately. Villagers who had stayed for the night must go to Oldest Brother's house to eat something, then go home to sleep. One must stay with father. I stayed.

Only father and I were left in the room. I held the brush, tried to paint the coffin with the dark paint. Father slept silently on a pile of rice stalks. A piece of white paper covered his face. The coffin was on two stools beside him. Father would stay in it forever.

-- Father, my poor father, what a life you had led! What a father you were! You lost your father and the only brother at the age of nine. You had to work in the fields since then. At the age of twelve, you had to plow the fields. The handle of the plow was higher than you were; you just sat by the edge of the fields crying and crying. At the age of thirteen you fell from stairs and broke your back; you lay in bed for half a year without any treatment; you became a hunchback for the rest of your life. You almost died of hunger during the Natural Disaster Years; you survived, but lost your hearing. For all your life you had been starving; only in recent years we were not short of rice, still illness made you starve; you never had enough clothes in winter; ? For protecting me from being beaten by mother, you had endless fights with her. Once mother hit you on your head with a shovel; blood was all over your face, still you brushed aside the blood to ask me not to cry. The big scar was still on your forehead. When mother did not allow me to eat, you always hid something, risked fighting with her to feed me. If there was any good food, you would satisfy brother and me first and eat the leftovers; you always saved the peanuts or wild fruits you picked up in the fields, brought them to us. Once you came back from the town, forgot to buy me a cap, I cried; the breakfast was ready, you went back to town immediately to buy the cap for me. Till I was eleven, every night, it was you who washed my face and feet, told me stories and carried me on your back to go to bed after I fell asleep at your lap. Whenever I wet the bed, you just moved me to the dry place, and slept on the wet yourself. I went against you to come back home after graduating from college - everyone was blaming you for spoiling me to be so self-willed. ? I had only made you worry for me day and night; when you were sick, we just let you suffer to death! Father, my poor father, you left me no opportunity to pay you back! I lost the opportunity forever! Father!

……

My heart was twisted and broken. I burst into tears. I could not help crying out. I cried and painted, painted and cried. Tears blurred my vision. I kept painting, painting and painting.

Before they put father into the coffin, we had a bath for him. I was frightened to find that he was only skin and bone! The bone stuck out like mummies'! He had appeared to me just like he was when I was a kid. I had never thought that he could be as dry as this!

They had dug a coffin pit near grandmother's tomb. The shape of the land around was like an armchair; the head of grandmother's tomb was facing the east. Oldest Brother said father had chosen the location. Father feared coldness and liked sunshine and father had the deepest love for grandma; the location, according to Fengshui masters, was very precious. However, when the coffin pit was ready, water seeped in. In a while, water accumulated about two inches. The pit diggers had to use an iron bowl to get the water out. But water kept seeping in; there was no way to get rid of it completely. They had to put four red bricks at the bottom.

Father was put in the coffin. His mouth was tightly closed. He wore the new black cotton-padded coat they had just sewn for him. The coffin was put in the hole, earth was thrown on the coffin. A tomb was raised up in half an hour. We brothers kowtowed in front of his tomb. Little nephew knelt down after us, tried to kowtow. His head touched the fresh earth, two small palms were clipped together in front of him. Instead of lowering his hands three times with the bow of his head, he just shook his hands up and down, touched earth with his forehead, and did not rise up, like a cow drinking water from a ditch. Oldest Brother had to pull him up. Before we left the tomb, Oldest Brothers said in a crying voice: "Dad, please follow us to go home."

Back home, the rice stalks had been rolled up. It would be burned in the seventh day after father's death. We had five tables ready for treating villagers. Everyone in the small village was invited. All the women were helping preparing the food. They rushed in and out, busy in cleaning bowls, dishes, carrying in and out big basins of food; hot air rising up like smoke. Two tables had to be placed outside our house. Those at the table were shouting, talking and drinking. Occasionally someone would sigh with tears in eyes, "What a kind old man!"

I sat alone by the edge of father's bed.

Twenty years ago, we had this bed. The bed was formed by putting two trunks together and spreading some rice stalks on it. In autumn, we would change the rice stalks once. How comfortable the very night when the rice stalk was freshly changed! It was thick and soft; it smelt of the fragrance of rice! In winter, there were hundreds of fleas; in summer, besides mosquitoes, there was an army of lice. The lice were everywhere in the night and nowhere during the day. We often woke up because of itching. Father had to light the bottle oil lamp to capture the bugs at midnight. When the light was on, the reddish lice exploded in all directions, the little fleas were jumping around and disappeared into the rice stalks in no time. There was a urine bucket near father's head; we pissed there. I and brother often pissed outside of the bucket; the earth around it had always been dark and wet. It made the room smell bad. The big jar by the bed contained the pig's food. When father fetched husk to feed the pigs, the husk rose up like steam. It also served as a safe. These days, father kept his medicine in the jar. Pigs often came to the room to pass stool and urine; we could get the stools out, but we could not clean the urine. Father, Second Brother and I had slept in this room since I had memory. Now brother had a room of his own. This room would be empty forever. Father was sleeping in the coffin, in the tomb, at the feet of the hill, with grandma. - Had grandma waken up to greet father: "Come close, darling!" and sat up, opened a corner of her quilt, extended her hand to touch father's cold face?

In the late afternoon, the last two tables were set up for the cooks and my family. The cooks and my family were dragged in to sit around the table. All of them came to persuade me to eat something, but I felt dry in my mouth. They said it was White Happiness; father had lived up to a rare age; it was his illness that had consumed him; we had done enough. Father was such a considerable old man, he chose to die after the Spring Festival; at another time, all the food must be doubled; at this time, people had enough fat in their stomach, they ate less. That saved us a lot. Oldest Brother said father had told him that he hoped to enjoy this Spring Festival, and he had fulfilled his will. They said it was good for him to leave, it was too painful for him to live on. --Maybe they are right. To live is to bear the pain of life. Maybe death is a good thing; death is the end of pain. And I am he, he is in me; he lives on in me. There is no need to let the sorrow to kill me. I took a little liquor, ate a little bit and went to bed.

The next morning only my brothers and sister were around the table. Oldest Brother said: "Try your best to teach. If you fail the exam this year, try the next year. You will pass! Your fortune is going to be changed! All the fortune tellers have said that our generation would have an outstanding one -- That is you!" After a good sleep, I came back to life; the dismay that almost killed me passed its limit and we cheered up a little bit when we came to talk about the future.

I needed to go back to the school and return the bike to Mr. Li. Brothers asked me to take the bus. Sister gave me the bus fare. I kept the ten-yuan bill to take it back to my roommate. Second Brother saw me off to the town; he helped me to put the bike on the top of the bus.

The next weekend, I came back for the Seventh Day. It was raining. We were so uneasy to find that water had accumulated around father's tomb. Father was soaked in the water. He must feel cold. How could we tolerate soaking him in the cold water? The rain kept falling down. Sitting in the room, watching the rain trickling down from the roof like streams, we got so worried about the water around father's tomb. Finally Oldest Brother said: "The old man is sleeping in the cold water, how can we sons sleep well?" Immediately three of us wore raincoats and rain hats, carried spades and shovels and set out to go to father's tomb.

We intended to dig a ditch in front of the tomb to drain the water around father's tomb. After the ditch reached one foot deep, we ran into rocks below. The rocks were too hard, only explosives could do the job. We dug and dug, till it got dark, till all of us were exhausted and all wet, we had only opened a shallow ditch. It could drain part of the water, but could not exhaust it. Oldest Brother straightened his back, sighed, "In the neighboring county, people throw their darlings' coffin into water; and more people are burned to ash." We had to clean the tools and went back home.

Since then I often dreamed of father rising up from the tomb with his wet dark cotton-padded coat. I got frightened and woke up sweating and I could not go back to sleep. I clearly knew that he had just fainted for not eating anything for days; he should be given a shot instead of being moved unto the ground. He had been murdered jointly by us.

14. Brothers Are All Over the World

 

In late April, I got a letter from the Graduate School. It was the score report. With trembling hands I opened the envelope. My heart dropped on the ground: the score was much lower than I had expected. No hope. --We must score 350 to be eligible for graduate study; I scored ten points less than that. Luckily the scores of all the subjects were over 60. It was often required scores to be above 60. The program I was applying for would only admit one student. I needed to figure out my rank among the competitors.

The next day I took a bus to go to the graduate school. I found that I scored the highest and the admission cut-off score was 300! About thirty students applied for the program, only two passed the cut-off line. I was overjoyed! The golden bird was in my arms!

I went to see my future supervisor; he was a very nice man in his late fifties. He said, "Since this program can only accept one student, I just wonder whether you are willing to go to another university in the Southwest. I have a friend who is a very famous professor there; all the students who applied for his program failed passing the cut-off line. He asked me to recommend someone." I was riding the high tide. I responded quickly, "Only two graduate schools I would like to enter: one is in this university and the other is in Beijing University." He must be upset by my rudeness and pride. I thought that I was the number one; there was no reason for me to go to another university. What's more, I had served in the army. According to the law, I should have the priority to be admitted.

With the great news in arms, I went home. I got off the bus at my hometown. I went to father's tomb. The earth was still fresh. If father could have held on, this good news of mine would have been his magic medicine. He might have recovered immediately. Now he was in another world. He died with the idea that I was doomed to be a failure.

After sitting by father's tomb for a while, I got up to go home. Brothers were still worrying about me. I must let them know the news as soon as possible. It was afternoon. The sunshine was bright. When I stood up from the slopes where father's tomb was located, I saw brothers working in the fields near my home. The fields were full of water. Second Brother was in the water; Oldest Brother was pulling the ropes. They were using a tool to pull up mud to smooth the ridge between the paddy fields. They only saw me when I came close to them. They put down the tool immediately.

"Why are you back today?" Asked Oldest Brother. I knew they were eager to know my examination results and feared to ask about that. "I came back from Wuhan." They sat down on the bank of the fields and left some room for me in the middle. I sat between them on the wet earth. Oldest Brother took out cigarettes, gave Second Brother one and me one. I took the cigarette; we began to smoke. Finally I said, "I went to the university." Oldest Brother could not help asking, "Have the results come out? If you fail this time, just try another time." I tried to be calm. "I passed." All their eyes were lit, smile spread over their faces like the waves on the pound caused by a big rock. I could not help smiling myself. "Is that true?" Asked Oldest Brother. "No mistake?" Asked Second Brother. "I am the top one." They were trying to stay calm, but they could not. Oldest Brother stood up, "Let's go home. We can do this tomorrow." We got up to go home. The sunlight from the western sky was shining on us. The redness of the sky was reflected in the water of the fields; the hills were shining with fresh greenness.

In the evening, mother borrowed some eggs from our neighbors; Oldest Brother got a bottle of liquor from his home. We brothers ate and drank and talked till midnight.

The next day I went back to the middle school. I did not let anyone near me know my business about graduate school. I just waited for the admission notice.

However, after two months, there was no admission notice for me. Two students I knew had already received theirs. I was anxious and took a bus to go the Admissions Office again. The gentleman sitting behind a big desk said, "We have not got your dossier. We can not make a decision without it. We need your record from the teacher's college and the dossier from the army. Your personal history shows that you served in the Air Force for five years. That information is particularly important for us. If you cannot get it to us in the next ten days, you will be out of consideration."

I felt a rush of sweat beneath my hair. I was stunned like being struck by electricity. I tried to stay calm, "Do I have a record from the Air Force? I have never heard of that." "Yes, you have one. You need to inform the Office of Military Service in your county. They have kept your dossier." I cried to myself, "I am done for! I am done for! God!" I saw the golden bird jumping out of my arms, flying away like lightening, disappearing to the far end of the earth. I cursed myself. How stupid I was to mention that I had served in the army when I registered for the examination! I thought they would not need my dossier from the army! How stupid I was! I did not have to mention that! I thought only the Office of Military Service had the right to keep my dossier for their own use. How ignorant I was!

I collected my senses, said to him, "Thanks. The problem was that I did not know where my dossier from the college was. I had tried to get it. The college said it was in the Bureau of Education in my county and the local bureau said they have never received it." 

The gentleman was the director of admissions. He was very nice although he looked cold. "You may go to the college to ask them to make a new one for you. Whatever it is, we will accept it. You are in a very competitive position. You must hurry. We need to wrap it up in ten days."

I went back. I was so anxious. I could not let this dossier block my way. I had to clean my dossier and get it without letting anyone know that I had passed the exam. Fortunately I had visited the director in the Office of Military Service at the very time when I came back home. The director promised me in the presence of Ling's father that they would help me if I needed it. Now it was time to ask him to keep his promise. However, if he wanted be mean, what could I do? He had not literally said that he would clean my dossier.

The county was just like a small village. People were all connected via very complex connections. These kinds of connections present a big problem for enforcing any law or policy imposed by the higher-ups, but at this moment I felt a kind of security because of it. If everyone strictly acted as the higher authorities required, many would be the victims of injustice. The people above are not always righteous; sometimes they are evil. They often try to have their evil will be carried out by those below. People below sometimes have their own ideas and their own judgements. Their ideas and judgements are often contradictory to those of the above. They have to figure out a way to get around the will of those above. Thus there is always a "back door" open for anyone in the system. This also presents a serious problem for those at the top of the pyramid of the power system when they really want to do something good for the majority. If that will harm the interests of some people below, those below will utilize the channels already in existence to get around. The authority of the higher-ups is often eroded. The higher-ups will never get the results they expect. Now I needed to go through the back door to get around the closed front door to avoid being a victim of the evil will of those above.

I needed to make sure that the director in the Office of Military Service will keep his promise. First I went to see a cousin of my sister-in-law's. Actually this "cousin" only shared a great-grandfather with my sister-in-law. He only went back to the village during Qing Ming festival and Spring Festival. When he was back in the village, my sister-in-law's brother would invite him to his home to eat. That was all. In recent years, Oldest Brother often went to visit this cousin. According to Oldest Brother, they were close relatives. However, this cousin had never come to visit him. In fact, it was a relationship similar to that between a water-jar and the stove in the kitchen -- only one side is warm. I had never heard of this cousin before. Oldest Brother began to talk about him frequently after this "cousin" had become the head of a bureau in the county. Brother often urged me to visit him. He said that this cousin was the "young and strong" generation of cadres. He was only a little more than 30 years old and his father had a brotherly relationship with the county magistrate. I had visited him a few times since I worked in the county seat; the only reason was for the food that his mother cooked. I only went to visit him during lunchtime or dinnertime and the visit would end immediately after I finished eating.

I went to this cousin's home directly from the bus station. It was dinnertime. He was at home. He asked to sit at the dinner table. I told him my business. He said, "I know that Tan was a stubborn guy. He might not keep his promise. But he has a life to live here. I will make him keep his promise." He asked me to come tomorrow evening. He would tell me what to do then. I said that I could not wait. "OK, since this is an emergency, I will go to see somebody right now. You just wait here and watch TV. I will be right back." He dropped the rice bowl and set out. I watched TV with his parents.

Two hours later he came back. He told me that the vice-magistrate was very interested in getting to know me. He told me the vice-magistrate was quite young, and he might be the magistrate in the future. The vice-magistrate promised to go to talk to Tan the next morning. He told me to go the government office to meet Wu, another "cousin" of mine who was the deputy director of the Bureau of Tax. "Do not worry. There is nothing we can not do here."

The next morning, I went to see Wu. I also called him "brother". He really enjoyed laughing. "You are a talented man. We cannot let you to be buried in the mountains of Hongan, right? You may become the governor or the chairman, who knows? OK, the vice-magistrate had already talked to Tan. He told me that it might not be appropriate for him to meet you right now. You just go to see Tan and ask him to clean your dossier. If he says anything against you, let me know."

I went to the Office of Military Service. Tan was cold. It seemed that he was a little unhappy. Perhaps it was because I had used those above him to press him to do something he had promised to do independently. He might be thinking that I should have talked directly to him, so he could take the credit for helping me out. But I thought if I first went to him, if he had refused me, it would be more difficult for me to press him to change his mind.

He accepted a cigarette from me, said, "Talk to Vice Director Heng. He will take care of everything. I have a meeting." He pointed to Heng, a middle-aged man whose face was as dark as the dirt on the street.

Heng led me to a small office inside the outside office. He asked me to sit down. "Director Tan has instructed me to do what you required. We have our procedures. This is not a game." He sat there, not appearing eager to give me what I wanted. "If anyone asks you, please do not sell us out. Vice-magistrate has also given us instructions. As Honganians, we will try our best to help you." He asked casually what relationship I was to the deputy-magistrate. I simply said that we were good friends. Finally he got out a bunch of keys, slowly opened a steel case by the wall, and drew out my dossier. "We will do as we promised -- pull out the bad records out of your dossier." He opened my dossier. All my attention focused on his fingers. The gold bird was perching on his hands. My heart was beating hard. If those two pieces of paper were gone, there would be no any real obstacle for me to go to the graduate school! I would embrace the golden bird! My dream would come true! The rest of my life would be totally different -- a graduate student could easily be a magistrate upon the time of his graduation! All the painful experience would turn out to be real joy! I would walk out of the small county, laughing and singing toward the sky: "How could people like me perish among wild grasses!"

But he was not eager to take the two pieces of paper out of my dossier; instead he put on his glasses, got close to the whole dossier, as if he was trying to smell it. There were five pieces of paper in the folder. Of them, one pieces was the piece of paper originated from our local government that went to the army with me and four pieces were the records of my four and a half years' service in the army. Of the four pieces from the army, one was a formatted sheet, it had a simple description of my history in the army; the other three pieces were an Order of Merit Award and two Statements of Demerit. What I hoped was to get rid of the two Statements of Demerit. I looked at him; he seemed to slip into another world. Finally he came back to life, "We can not take them out."

"Why?" I was going to explode. I could snatch the two pieces of paper from his hand and tear them into pieces to clean my way in one second. I tried to control myself. "Why?!"

"If we take out the two Statements of Demerit, that will bring trouble to us. In the description of your history they said you had committed the crimes. Only after you get this statement cleaned from this form," he waved the formatted form toward me, "we could take these two separate pieces of paper out of your dossier." He shook his head, "We did not realize that."

The gold bird shrieked and jumped out of the range I could reach.

"Can you do anything to clean that statement?" I was trembling. The bird was flying away from me. I hope it not fly further and further away from me.

"Let me call Director Tan. "

Tan was actually in the next room. He came in. With his mouth tightly closed, he examined the statement. Finally he handed the statement to me, "You can take a look at it yourself. This formatted paper is what they want. It is nothing for us to take out the other two pieces of paper, but it won't help you and it would put us in trouble. It is not that we do not want to help you." It was true; in the form someone had stated my "crimes". There was a red stamp on that form. It was useless to just take out those two pieces of Statement of Demerit. They really could not do anything about it.

Heng slowly closed the folder of my dossier. "Sorry. We really want to help you."

The bird disappeared. I felt I was going to wet my trousers. There was a terrible confusion in my mind. What could I do? What could I do? I felt soft in my hands and feet. Why was I so stupid to mention that I had served in the army? If I had just said I was an ordinary peasant, they would not need the dossier from the army! I felt so miserable that I wanted to cry.

"You need to go back to your army unit. Only they can change the statement in the form and clean your history. Now we can not do anything. The magistrate comes and we will say the same to him. Do not blame us."

This would make cleaning my dossier extremely difficult -- there was probably no way for me to get it cleaned. The bureaucracy of the army was too complex. I feared to go back to deal with it.

I collected my senses and said, "The commissar and many high ranking officers were very kind to me. Maybe they could help me." 

Tan said, "You get us a piece of paper like this without statements about that matter, we will withdraw the two separate statements. No problem for us."

Heng put back my dossier in the steel case. "It is not that we are unwilling to help you. We really could not. Sorry."

Our business was done. I did not want to leave, but it was useless to sit there like a fool. I thanked them and stepped out.

It was over. Perhaps the best way to get rid of the problem was to forget it for this year, just like it had never happened. My head began to ache terribly. It was going to explode. Nobody could help me at this moment. Should I give up? Should I? I have overcome one of the most difficult steps. I did not know the real difficult step was to clean my dossier! Should I wait another year? To report a different history, to apply another program in another university? --Next year, who knows what will happen! How could I stand this -- the door of my future be blocked by a piece of paper? No. No. I could not accept this!

I went to see Peng. He passed the exam the year before, but he was rejected by the university after he sent them his dossier. In his dossier there was a record of demerit. During college days, he had an affair with his student's mother who was forty years old when he was nineteen. The lady had treated him as her son. Later love crooked the relationship. He was treated as a criminal by the university after that. His degree was suspended. He was sent back to our home county. He had tried so hard to clean his dossier, but he ran into an iron wall. All the curators of the dossier refused to do it although he spent a lot of money on it and exhausted all his connections. Maybe most people felt that his affair was unacceptable and had their own attitude about it. According to the rule, this kind of punishment would expire after five years. He had graduated for five years. He still worried about it. He had not got his admission notice yet.

He persuaded me to try to calm down. He said maybe these guys could clean it, but they just did not want to help me. He met so many of them. They would not take any risk for changing other's destiny for good. He had no idea what I should do. I had to turn back to the school.

Since I left the Office of Military Service, I was having a headache day and night. The headache was tearing me apart. I almost could not walk -- any movement was sawing my brain. I just wanted to lie in bed. I was exhausted; I wanted to give up. I could not figure out a practical way to get it done and nobody could offer me any practical advice. Now I understood why some buildings where people's dossiers were stored often had fire "accidents". The dossier system was so horrible. If you had any "black points" in your dossier, you would have to live with it for your whole life. All your future working units will look behind you. You would be excluded from lots of opportunities. It was like a huge serpent coiled tightly around your body.

How could I accept the fact that I was dead? How could I be killed by a piece of paper? I must get a way to replace that piece of paper with a piece of clean paper. Or it would come up to make trouble at any time in the future. Now it was the last obstacle on my way to graduate school. No! I would not give up without knocking on all the doors! Life is a battle. At the very time you feel exhausted, it is the time your enemy has the same feeling. At that moment, whoever could carry on would win. God only helps those who never give up. The world belongs to those who never give up. The best way of saving yourself is relying upon you yourself. No person's opinion will really help you; no one will see what you could possibly see from your advantageous point. Only you yourself know exactly where the tiny crack in front of you can be broken through. You must collect all your strength and try to break through. Never give up! Never, never give up! Fight on and on! You will win!

I would have to go back to my army unit. I had no idea what I should do when I got there. I only kept a narrow string of hope that my friends there would find a way to help me.

By that time, I had three sessions of formal class every day and three hours of informal classes. I wanted to make the students perform better. But I had to ask for leave. On a Friday afternoon, just after I got my salary, I left the city on a bus.

I got to the train station after a five-hour nauseous ride. My headache caused strong nausea and dizziness. I felt terribly cold. I clenched my teeth to keep myself walking straight. I had to struggle in the crowd to buy the ticket. Fortunately I got a ticket to Beijing for that very evening. But I had to wait another five hours. Finally the time was up. I got on the train.

The train was very slow; it stopped almost every hour at a different station. Hundreds of different terrible odors rushed in from outside; the odors made me sicker. I could not eat anything. I could only drink a little bit of boiled water. After 20 hours of shaking on the train, in the late afternoon next day, I reached the station I departed from one year before. I walked across the fields to go to the barracks. I tried to stay away from the main road to avoid being seen by those I knew. Getting close to the barracks, I got excited. A free man, with a possibly brighter future, had come back to the place where he had been a prisoner.

I first went to see Lao Da (eldest brother), a home fellow of mine who stayed in the army as a volunteer soldier. He was still a cook for the pilots in a branch unit adjacent to my army unit. He was quite reliable. Though I had many friends in the department I used to work in, I worried that they might leak the news and ruin my future.

I went directly to the kitchen. Lao Da was there with his cooking clothes on. When he saw me, he threw the barrel he was holding on the ground violently. The water in the barrel spilled out. He ran to me with a broad laugh and embraced me -- we rarely embraced each other. "Ha ha ha! What wind brings you here!" His joy overwhelmed me. Immediately he took me to his dorm and asked me what I wanted to eat first of all. I said I was not hungry and told him the purpose of my coming. He said, "Eat first! Eat first! We will try to find the right people to do that. There will be a way to get it done! Do not worry. -- We talked about you a lot. Now you have come back! -- I have many people who could possibly help you. Eat first!" I asked him whether we could make a phone call to those people first. He said it was Saturday; most officers had left the barracks for the weekends.

After eating a little and drinking some hot tea, we went to see Da Pao (Cannon), another home fellow of ours. He had just graduated from a military academy and was acting as a temporary captain in the company of Communication and Guarding. When Lao Da told him why I was there, he laughed, "Leave it to me! No problem! I will get a clean form for you tomorrow. Relax, my friend. Look at you! Do not be so anxious. It is a tiny dish of pickle. You do not have to ask anyone. I guarantee you -- no talking of a piece of Record of Demerit, even if you want some Record of Merit, I would create them for you!" He patted his chest. "Are you sure?" asked I. He laughed, "You ask Lao Da!" Lao Da said, "Leave it to him. Do not worry." I glimpsed the bird flying not far away from me. I knew Da Pao was a big mouth, but what he said really comforted me. "Are you sure?" I asked again. "Of course I am sure! I have several iron brothers in the Department of Politics; they have the key for the dossier and the entire documents. I will ask them to get a new form and apply a stamp on it. It is nothing! I will take care of it. You just eat and play around. If I could not help you this time, I am nobody!" "Please get it done as quickly as possible and do not let the news leak out." "I will give a call to my brothers." He laughed, "I had my wife give up her previous job and I got her a job in the Bureau of Railways --they were firing people! Dozens of generals' children could not locate a job there!" I could not simply doubt him. When he was just a soldier in the communication section, he helped me to call the president of our college via the military line, in the name of Director Zhang in the Department of Politics, Beijing Air Force. He gave himself a title of a general though he was only a six-month soldier. He got two demerit records when he was in a military academy. One was because he had violated the discipline of our army --"Stealing". One time while he was doing cleaning work near the dinning hall for welcoming the division commander to inspect the academy, he saw lots of dishes in the dining hall through the window. He sneaked into the dining hall, pretended to be a cook and took out the best dish on the table -- a dish of turtle meat, and ate it in the back of the dining hall. After he finished eating, he threw the empty dish up on the roof of the dining hall. The whole squad of cooks was mad about looking for the missing dish then. If he had not thrown the dish on the roof, nothing would have happened to him, but the noise the dish made on the roof sold him out. The other one was that he beat his political instructor in the dining room. He cleaned his records in the military academy when he came back to our military unit. To clean your dossier inside the military system was much more difficult.

After we left Da Pao, Lao Da told me, "He must have some way. Who knows? Sometimes he is in the sky, sometimes he is on the ground. But he truly gets things done. Let's wait and see. We must have a back-up plan. Lao Lin could be one to help us out. Let's go to see him today. Lao Wang is another one who may help us. He will come back on Sunday night. He might have some way, too. If he cannot, we may go to the printing house to print a form and ask someone to carve a stamp -- but we need to know what the format looks like. Anyway, we can get it done! A live man will not be killed by his urine."

Hearing what he said, I was a little relaxed.

Lao Da prepared some very delicious food and got some of the best beer for the dinner. Since I saw the bird was still there, I began to have some appetite. After dinner, I was warmed up.

In the evening, we went to see Lao Lin. Lao Lin was from our province. He had been so nice to us, and especially nice to me. He had invited me to his home several times. He loved literature. He had tried to help me to print some of my poems using his authority. One book of my poems that yet needed to be printed was still in his hands. He was the head just one level below the Director of Department of Politics. He might have the power to help me out. I believed that he would risk everything to help me. 

We rang the bell. His wife and little daughter answered the door. His wife told me that he was back in his hometown. He would come back at the end of the next month.

The brightest light for me went out. We were so sad on the way back. The little bird was a little further away from me now.

I had another person reserved for helping me out: Commissar Kang. He was the top in our army unit. Though I hated to trouble him and seriously doubted that he would like to help me this time, if there was no other way, I might go to see him. If he determined to help me out, a phone call of his would save me. Other people would take his order as emperor's mandate.

That night I could not sleep. I still had the bad headache. I hoped Sunday night would come immediately, so I could try all the people quickly. I needed to know what would happen as soon as possible.

The next day, Da Pao held a party. He invited two young officers who worked in the headquarters of our army unit as staff officers. After we drank and chatted for a while, Da Pao poured the beer into the glasses of the two and raised the real topic: why I was here. He asked them to help me. One guy immediately put down his bowl of beer and swore to Da Pao that he really wanted to help me, but he only had the chance to touch that form during the time of sending soldiers home. All the forms had a registration number. The number was fixed and assigned by the authorities above according to the number of soldiers we had. The stamp of our army unit was in the security box in the Security Office. He never had the chance to see it alone. Only in several people's presence it could be applied because there were some criminal cases originating from the stamp. "You are useless!" Da Pao laughed rudely, "but I trust you." He turned to the other guy. The other guy was from our province. We knew each other from the very beginning. He said, "If he has no idea, no talk of me." He turned to me, "I know that you have a good relationship with Commissar Kang. Talk to him. He will help you out. One word of his would get things done. I would like to go to see him for you if you want me to do so." Da Pao interrupted him with a waving of his hand, "Forget it. Both of you are useless. What can we do then?"

I was so disappointed at Da Pao and his iron brothers. Still I hoped he had other ideas in his pocket. But he said, "I have some other way to get around it. Lao Da, let's go to see Lao Lin. He must give a hand in this. If he does not help, I will kick his ass!"

Lao Da said, "Lao Lin is back home. He will be back next month."

However Da Pao was still in high spirits and asked me not to worry, he would have a way to help me. I could not hide my disappointment, "What is it? Let me know. I have to go back on Monday." He just asked me to wait. He refused to admit that he had no way. The bird disappeared again. I was in the lowest point of the huge waves.

We came back. Lao Da assured me that Lao Wang might help me. The cards in our hands were very limited. One was useless; the other was useless again. We always looked forward to turning over the next one. Now there was only one good card left. It was in Wang's hands. We needed to turn it over. What we could do was to wait for him to come back. The bird was still there in the far end of the sky.

In the evening, Lao Da and I lingered around Lao Wang's dorm. We hoped the light in his room would be turned on. He would usually come back at nine. But at nine his window was dark. At nine thirty his window still got no light. If he did not come back this week, what could I do? Lao Da's other plan was not that practical.

When we saw that the light in Lao Wang's room, how joyful we were! We rushed into his dorm. I had never met Lao Wang, but he knew of me. He was very pleased to see me. After he got to know what I had come for, he said flatly, "I can not help you. I only have the stamp for our army unit. And I can not get the form at this time. I can only get that form during the time of sending soldiers back home. Sorry." His troop unit was a branch of our academy. Lao Da said, "He has come from a thousand kilometers away, just for this piece of paper. Without it, he can not go to graduate school. He is done. You are our last hope." "Have you tried others?" We told him we had tried everyone we could think of. Then he said, "I have an idea -- go to see Commissar Kang. If he would like to help, it is solved. It is a tiny dish for him. Nobody dares to disobey him." I said, "I am afraid he could not help." "Just try. He must be back now." Kang's family was in Beijing. He would come back in his own car. "It is really a good opportunity for you. I am sorry. I really want to help you. But I cannot. It is not the right time." "You are the last one who could help us." Lao Da said again, "We have been waiting for you for two days." "I am sorry. Go to see Commissar Kang."

The bird died out in the far end of the sky. Wang had broken my last hope. I had to try the last door. I knew it would not open for me. Anyway, I had to have a try. If it were closed, I would have no regret. Later I could say that I had tried all the possible doors.

It was ten-thirty in the evening, the best time to see Commissar Kang. He would not go to bed just when he had come back. At the time, nobody would run into me.

Commissar Kang resided in the best single house in the barracks. I had been to visit him several times before when I was a sentry while all the officers were so afraid of him and never dared to dream of knocking at his door. When I got into the yard, I was pleased to see the light on his window. I knocked on the door. Commissar Kang answered it. "It's you," he seemed not surprised to see me, "come on in."

After we sat down, he asked peacefully, "How are you doing?" I said I found a teaching job back home, doing great. I said I was sorry for that trouble I brought to him. He said, "I am OK, but the chief in your department was unfortunate. He had to leave the army because of you. We needed to keep someone accountable for your problem. You should apologize to him. He was a promising officer. I do not care. It is the time for me to retire. -- Why are you here?" I said a university was considering admitting me to graduate school. I had scored very high in the exam. However, my dossier would ruin my opportunity. I just wondered whether he could do something to clean my dossier. He responded immediately: "It was a lesson for you. You had really done nothing seriously wrong. Go explain it to them. Write a letter to admit that you were wrong. -- Have you tried that? This is the right way and the only way. They would understand that and forgive you. There is no reason for them not to admit you." I said to myself: "You old fool. You are trying to revenge or you want to make fun of me? You ask me to throw an egg at a rock and tell me the egg will be OK?" However I said to him: "You mean you could not do anything to clean my dossier?" "How can I possibly do that? It is not in my charge. It is in the hands of Director of Politics. How can I ask him to do that? Do as I told you: go to have a nice talk to the leaders in that university. They will understand you and admit you. OK? There should be no problem." I sat there silently for a while. He was tired of me or really he could not help me given his position. I did not have to waste my time. "I will try to do what you told me. Thanks." I stood up. " You must draw a lesson from these. Do not do silly things like that or you will be in trouble again. You are young. You will succeed." He stood up and walked me out.

All the lights were out. All the doors were locked. No possibility of breaking through. The bird was dead. My hope had been lit and extinguished, ignited, extinguished, once, twice, again and again. I was on the high wave one minute and down at the bottom of the waves the next minute, down and up, up and down again. I captured the bird in my arms, it disappeared; it showed up again, disappeared again. I was exhausted. I would rather like to accept the worst result than throw myself up and down by terrible opposing feelings. "If you have tried your best, you still could not get it, you do not have to regret." I had tried all I could try and I should try. I could not hang myself on this. If it were my destiny, I would accept it now. OK, I will try next year. I will not mention that I had served in the army. Then there will be no real obstacle to my way. Walking in the cool night breeze, breathed in the cool air, I felt a little relief.

Lao Da was waiting for me in his room. I told him the result. I said I would give up. He said, "We can try to print that form and carve a stamp?" But I had decided to let it go and leave the next morning. I went to asleep immediately. Finally I could have a sound sleep.

The next morning, I went to say goodbye to Da Pao. He was very sorry that he had not helped me but he said he could surely figure out a way -- only it would take some time. I tried to comfort him and asked him to forget about it.

Then I went to say goodbye to Lao Wang with Lao Da. I needed to let him know what Commissar Kang had told me and my decision. I had my bag with me. Lao Da had filled my bag with food and soft drinks. Lao Wang had just come back from the dining-hall. He smiled, "Are you going to leave? What are you going to do then?" I said, "Give up. Try next year. But I do not know what's going to happen next year." He asked, "Is this dossier that critical?" "Without it, I am done. Everyone knows that. I have to forget about it this year." "What did Lao Kang tell you?" I told him Commissar Kang asked me to write a self-criticism letter to the university. He laughed, "He must have some difficulty to help you out." Suddenly he changed his tone, "If someone gives you that form, and it comes up a time that you are under investigation, would you not tell the names of those help you out?" "You know," I said, "I was under arrest for such a long time, they questioned me about who went to protest with me, I never told them. If I told them all I know, many of my colleagues would be in trouble." He nodded. I was not lying to him. I was just lucky that they did not question me more and use more violence. "Are you sure you want to leave without getting what you want?" "Yes. No choice" "Are you disappointed?" "Of course. But everyone has tried his best. There is no way."

He smiled, walked toward his bed, lifted his quilt (which was in such a beautiful shape), opened it, drew out a piece of paper, handed it to me. "I've got something for you."

I examined it. It was the very form I needed! There was a red stamp on it. I did not believe my eyes! --Am I in a dream?!

"I guess that is what you want," he said, "if nobody could help you, I have to. You can fill in anything you like. There is only one form. Take good care of it."

I was stunned and did not know what to say. All the lights were shining on. The bird magically showed up in my arms. It was waving its wings! Its feathers touched my face and disturbed my heart. Lao Da laughed wildly and held Lao Wang's hands, "Thanks! Thank you very much!" Finally I came back to life and came to grasp Lao Wang's hands tightly and shook my head. "I do not know how to express my gratitude."

Lao Wang changed his tone again, gave me an order, "Take it. Leave here as quickly as possible. Do not let anyone else know this besides Lao Da. I trust you. I have done my part. Good luck!"

I wanted to say something more, but he waved his hands, "Do not say anything. Go, go! I am leaving for my office." I held his hands for a moment. I could not say anything. I should swear to him that I would pay him back or something like that, but he was pushing me out. I folded the form carefully, put it in a book, and put the book in the bottom of my bag. I walked out of his room. Lao Da followed me.

We were overjoyed! Lao Da laughed and laughed. He peddled the bike crazily; the bike was flying. I sat on the back seat of the bike covering my face with a cap. We rushed to the train station. At the very time I arrived there, there was a train heading to the south. Hundreds of people were trying to get in from the train doors. I saw one window open. I waved to the guy sitting inside, climbed up the window, threw myself inside, then put out my head to say goodbye to Lao Da. In a minute, the train began to move.

15. The Dawn

 

Sitting in the train. I kept asking myself: am I in a dream? I opened my bag, got out the book, took out the form, and examined it carefully. The stamp was freshly red! It was the stamp of our army unit! I wanted to cry out. --God has helped me once again! How did Lao Wang get it in such a short period of time? He must have gone to the office after eleven o'clock! He must have gone to seek help from someone who held the key to the Department of Politics! - It's real! What should I fill in this form? On the train I had the statement written on a piece of used newspaper I got from the guy sitting by me.

 

During his service in our troop, Comrade Cai Zheng performed outstandingly. He had strictly observed military principles. He had won his comrades' affection and respect.

Comrade Cai Zheng is straight-forward and honest. Loyal to the people and the nation, with consciousness of justice, he has the courage to fight against injustice. For his outstanding contribution to our national defense, he had been awarded citation.

 

I amused myself with what I had written. My headache was gone. I went to Peng's home directly from the bus station. His wife filled in the form for me (for he applied to the same university as I did). When she was done, there were a few words overlapping the red stamp. Examining it carefully we could see that the black ink of the statement on top of the red stamp. The red stamp should be applied after the statement was written. Peng got some red seal oil, used a needle to paint all the strokes crossing the red boundary of the stamp, so that it gave the impression that the stamp had been applied after the statement was written. The form was perfect. It had become a piece of real artwork.

When it was ready, I realized that I needed an envelope from our troop. An official envelope would make it look more likely to be from the Department of Politics of our army. Wen Gang had been working in the Department of Politics. He used to stealthily read the "top secret" correspondence and pass along the information when it had something to do with me to me. He might have kept a few envelopes from the department. I went to his home, asked him if he had the envelopes. "Of course." His answer made me overjoyed! --God, why are you so nice to me? "Could you lend me some." "How many?" "One or two." He gave me five. I put the piece of paper in the envelope and sealed it. Then I went to see Tan and Heng.

I handed them the envelope, saying calmly, "The Commissar is our home fellow. They made a joint decision to get rid of my demerit record. They gave me this." Heng opened the envelope, read it, then passed it to Tan. Tan took a look at it with his glasses on, then passed it back to Heng, "Now we can take them out. We could not do that before. No problem now. We will put aside the old one."

"Can I have it?"

"No, we must keep it. We will send the new one to the graduate school."

The big rock on my heart was gone. Everything I had to do had been done. The next was to wait. One night I brought two cases of cigarettes to Tan's home, and then brought another case to Heng. I did not have to do that, but I was trying to tell them that I was really grateful. If they had refused to help me, I would have been stuck there. They could always have found excuses not to clean my dossier.

Peng had collected many letters from different sources to prove that he was "pure" now, still he got a letter from the graduate school that read, "Comrade Zhou Peng, after examining your dossier, you have been rejected. Please keep on serving the people as a middle-school teacher whole-heartedly!"

I nervously waited for the letter from the admissions office. Would they send me a letter like the one Peng got?

I waited another week, no admission notice, I ran out of patience. I went to the graduate school again. It was raining hard; all my clothes were wet. I combed my wet hair with my fingers and knocked on the door of the Office of Admissions; nobody answered. A middle-aged man from the next office came out to greet me, "Are you Cai Zheng?" I was shocked, "Yes, how did you know?" He said, "You look like an army man." He asked me to enter his office. On the door it read "Dean's Office." He made a phone call to ask somebody to receive me. Then he turned to me, "We had a vehement debate about you and we have just made the decision to admit you. You are the very kind of person we want to admit. Congratulations!" He stooped over his desk to shake my hands. I was so excited that I could not speak clearly. -- Why did they still have to debate about admitting me? Had they received some unofficial information about me from other sources? 

A woman entered the room, the Dean asked her to give me the Admission Notice if she had not mailed it out. The woman asked me to follow her to her office. She gave me a piece of paper. It read, "Comrade Cai Zheng, you have been admitted to the Program of Modern Chinese History. Please bring all the necessary documents to report to this Graduate School between August 30 and 31st."

The first thing I wanted to do was to let my father know that I had crossed the river and reached the bank. I went to his grave after I got off the bus. Only a few months had passed, the grass on his grave was as tall as I. The grave seemed have been there for a hundred years. What did father look like in the grave? --It made my mind white to think of that. If he had been alive, this piece of paper would have cured him. He could have lived on happily. After I graduated, I would take him to live with me. I would use all my efforts to let him lead the life of a human being. What could I do now? Should I establish a big monument for him in the future? Should I buy the piece of land around his grave, plant trees, construct a wall around it to fend off the wind in the winter and create some cool shade in the summer? What could I do to make him feel better? What could I do to relieve myself of the guilt of murdering him?

I just sat by father's grave till it got dark.

I stayed at home for a few days. I planned to start out from the county seat to go to the graduate school. The day before I left home, I went to father's grave with my brothers and my little nephew. We set off some firecrackers. The sound of the firecrackers echoed through the hills. We burned the paper money. I dropped a copy of the admission notice into the fire. The gray ash rose up with smoke. A few minutes later, only a small pile of gray ashes was left on the ground.

When I sat in the bus heading to the county seat, I was thinking, has father got my admission notice? I had intended to burn the original admission notice to him, Oldest Brother persuaded me to just burn a copy of it. Father could not read; did he know what that piece of paper meant? I hoped he really got it, and was as happy as ten years ago. Ten years ago, when he got my admission notice for college entrance from a teacher in the town, he forgot all about selling his melons and ran back home. He had waved the notice like a victory flag on his way back.

Ling's sister brought me a message saying that Ling would like to take me to a restaurant to celebrate my admission. She wanted to know when I was going to leave, so she could schedule a time. I was surprised that she had kept an ear to me. She must have gotten the news from Oldest Brother. Oldest Brother would have let her know this at the first opportunity. I said that I had no time then but she could treat me later. Actually I was quite free. For rejecting her offer, I felt the pain in my deep heart. -- Maybe it is time to say goodbye to yesterday, maybe it is time for us to reconcile? Maybe she will tell me that she is still in love with me? No, it is too late. All the innocence, the purity and the nobility of love were smeared; a piece of white paper was covered with messy paint. It could never be snow-white again. -- But why reject her good intentions? What am I afraid of? I could face her. It was she who should be embarrassed for her shortsightedness. --- No, I can not meet her. The scab was too fresh, to scratch it would cause bleeding. I can not put on a smile when I see her. I can not stand above the roof and look down with a cool mind. I have not risen above the sorrow of losing her. She had said she would wait for me one year; but then she had eagerly enticed others. She must have been sleeping with that man for at least half a year; she did not even greet me last time ? Now, I do not need any comfort from her; more girls would like to offer me that. I have passed the roaring tide of the river. I had been weak in front of her for too long. That was because part of me was disabled. The real me has come back. I am still an iron man, standing on the earth with my own two feet. No, the last thing I need at this moment is her smile. I could not bend my heart to accept her offer. -- Leave me alone. Keep your smiles to the man you have picked up. The smile I had been so thirsty for is not needed anymore!

Before I left the county seat, I wanted to show my gratitude to the people who had made my life sweet. I was grateful to so many people. They had treated me like their brother. I had often walked into their homes, sat down by their tables, picked up chopsticks and dined with them. But other than saying "thanks" I could do nothing else to show my gratitude. The only one I brought a gift to was Mr. Li, the schoolmaster. The gift was fifty duck eggs. Zhong Bo had told me it was he who managed to use his authority to hire me although lots of teachers were lined up to enter the school.

The only serious thing I needed to do before I left was to get together with a group of revolutionaries. They planned to found a political party. They insisted on having me be the chair. I thought it was a joke to organize a party at the time in this corner of the mountains. I feared once the party was exposed, I would go to jail again. I had had enough of that. Confronting their pleas, I had to shamefully declare that I feared participating in any party. "Have you been burned?" They laughed. I did not know how to respond. To found a party, to guarantee its success and distinguish the party from gangs, the founders must be willing to sacrifice their own lives for the interest of others; they must have the moral standard of saints and the enthusiasm of the most pious believers of religion. We did not fit those criteria. To them, almost all the social problems in the country could easily be solved by a new political system; I had my doubts about that. I did not know whether those problems were rooted in human nature, the nurturing and education of the people or the system. The old generations had done enough; millions had been killed in the revolution, what had they brought to the people?

It was really hard to get around their skillful persuasion. Only a coward would shy away from the underground parties. I did not want to be viewed as a coward. To me, to reject their tenacious, flattering request really required courage. Finally I conceded that I would participate in the meeting when they formally declared the founding of the party, but not be a member. I was grateful that they did not push me harder.

Qinhai was the main organizer. He worked for the government. He often went to small towns to investigate cases on behalf of the county government. He had to drink. He could finish one bottle of alcohol without batting an eye. After drinking, he usually fell asleep. Sometimes he could sleep for three whole days. When he woke up, he was OK. One day he went to investigate a case where a young woman had been hired by the local government to accompany their guest officials to social events and had died of drinking too much. The local government took Qinhai out for a drink. After drinking in a restaurant, he insisted on going back to the hotel by himself. It was a very nice moonlit night, the hotel was not far away from the restaurant, and he seemed fine, the officials had to let him go by himself. As of midnight, the manager of the hotel had not seen him. He had to inform the government officials. The officials became scared; they feared that he had walked into the woods where there were wild pigs and wolves. The government immediately mobilized all the policemen and the militia to look for him. For the whole night, people had been searching for him in the nearby hills, fields, trees and rivers. They shouted and yelled with flashlights and torches. The next morning, nobody had yet seen any trace of him. Just before the local government was going to report him missing to the county government, he staggered into the hotel with a broad smile on his face; all of his clothes were wet. The day before, instead of walking toward the hotel along the main road of the town, he had wandered into the wheat fields and fallen asleep there.

Qinhai had also been selected to be a member of the Government Officials' House Measurement Team. The Central Government had issued an order to measure all government officials' houses. An official having a house that occupied too much land was illegal; what's more, with a modest salary, how could an official construct a big house? Where had the money come from? If someone's house was greater than a certain scale, he was subject to investigation and discipline and even legal action. The central government was serious about this. An emergency meeting was held in the county. Most officials were nervous. A special group led by a vice magistrate of the county was formed. This group had gone through strict training as to how to measure houses, how to calculate costs, and so on. It was expected that most of the officials who had had private houses constructed would be in trouble. However, after one month's busy work of this group, it turned out that no one occupied more land or had houses bigger than they could have afforded. Qinhai got a promotion for his outstanding performance.

His major was chemistry, but he wanted to do graduate study in Politics and Economics at one of the top universities. To achieve his goal, he studied very hard. He often studied more than eight hours a day after an eight-hour work day. He lived on the fourth floor of a residential building. His room was separated into two parts. The inner part was the study, the outside part was the bedroom. One day his father came to see him. He told his father to go to bed first. He studied till four o'clock in the morning. Before he went to bed, he turned off the light and went to the toilet, which was outside the building. Then he reentered the building, climbed up the stairs to his room at the end of the corridor. He pushed open the door, entered the room, took off all his clothes except his underwear, and climbed into the bed. He pushed his father over to make some room for himself, lay down and fell asleep. In reality, he was only on the third floor of his building, so instead of sleeping with his father in his own bed, he was sleeping with a lady in his colleague's room. The lady's daughter-in-law and granddaughter were sleeping in the inner room. The lady had forgotten to lock the door that day. In the early morning, the lady, who was sixty-five years old, woke up to find a man in his underwear sleeping with her. She screamed. The scream woke up everyone in the building. People thought someone was being murdered. They rushed in to rescue the lady. The lady was beating him; he was still soundly asleep. People tried to sit him up straight, he kept falling over onto the bed and murmuring as in a dream, "Don't disturb me? don't" His father came to box his ears to wake him up. He finally woke up to his father's yelling at him, "What have you done? You are sleeping in someone else's bed! You entered the wrong room! Get back to your own room!" Everybody was laughing. He put on a broad smile, scratched his head, "I entered the wrong room?" Then he stood up to take leave. The old lady grasped his pants and wanted to tear him to pieces. People stopped her. The lady then moved a chair to sit in the corridor by the gate, crying to herself and cursing the God-damn hooligan for the whole day. She said she had no face to live on; she had never slept with another man since her man had died thirty years ago. Nobody could persuade her to stop crying. Qinghai's department had to buy a gift to comfort her for losing her widow's virginity. Qinhai had to move to another residential building. He got a warning by the party because he had "intruded on the private property of others."

Qinhai had also participated in the Graduate Study Entrance Examination this year. Before the exam, he used the money he had saved over half a year to buy a three-hundred yuan Ginseng and mailed it to the professor who was supposed to be the adviser. To take the exam, he went to the provincial capital three days ahead of the exam, stayed in a grand hotel near the examination center (He managed to get the government to pay the boarding fee). He studied English the very night before the exam - English was the first subject to be tested. He found that his brain was very sharp that night so he kept on studying till 5 AM. The exam began at 8:30 AM. He fell asleep at 5:30 AM; he set the alarm clock for 7:30 AM. Unfortunately the alarm clock did not wake him up, and he had a dream that the exam had begun. The dream woke him up. Thank God, the bad dream was true: it was 9 AM! Then he rushed to the examination room without washing. He thought he would score 60 for English, it turned out he only got 19 points out of 100. For the whole exam, he only scored 190 out of 500. Later he received a letter from the professor; the professor encouraged him to take the exam next year but did not mention the Ginseng.

Liu Qi, the lawyer in the county court, was the most determined one. He knew so much about the dark side of the local legal system. To him, there was no law, but connections, very complex connections. There was almost no way for justice to be served in the county. The lawyers were just an organ of the government. Just before we met he had been appointed to be the lawyer for a peasant's family. The peasant had been hit on the head by several tax collectors. He fell on the cement ground and died. The hospital had performed an autopsy of his body and wrote a report stating that he had fallen accidentally, and died of a heart attack - it was obvious the doctors were lying. The poor peasant's family thought the government would give them justice, so they went to the government to seek help. The government told them to take the case to the court. Finally the case came up in the court. No tax collector got any punishment; the government paid a small amount of money for the cremation of the peasant's body. Liu Qi was mad about this, but he could do nothing to help the peasant. He was so vehemently against the dictatorship of a corrupt party and the government's corroborating legal system. But I was quite disappointed with him; every time I went to see him, he was playing mahjong with his colleagues.

We had a meeting in Liu Qi's house the night before I left for graduate school. They called it the Meeting of the "Founding of the People's Party of China". They closed the gate to the yard and locked it; closed the door of the house and locked it from the inside; closed the windows, and went to the inner room in the center of the house. They had everything written out: who was the organizer, who was the chair, etc. Qinhai read the principles. Liu Qi kept a record of the meeting. After completing the record, he read it aloud to make sure everyone knew the record. The record stated that I was an observer. All these procedures reminded me of a display I had seen in 1982. It was about the successful eradication of a "Counter-revolutionary Party". The chief of the party was a 17-year-old high school graduate. He was the oldest and the best educated one in the "Counter-Revolutionary Party". In the eradication all the "Party Members" got life sentences. The "counter-revolutionary materials" were displayed in a corridor in our college. Most of the documents were "borrowed" from the high school history book. The handwriting of the declaration of the founding of the party was awkward; the declaration was full of grammar mistakes. The security people who captured those kids were insane; the prosecutors who accused them of planning to overthrow the communist party, the government and the socialist system were insane; the judge who gave them all life sentences was insane; the people who established the laws to capture them, prosecute them, put them into jail were insane; and the organizers of the display were insane. In a society composed of such paranoid people, it was no joking matter to found a party. Looking at my friends, I had to ask myself, "Are they kidding?"

The reading, the discussion sounded far away from me. I heard nothing real. When the meeting was over, I walked back to my dorm alone.

The next day was the 28th. It was the date I had picked for the start of my new life. To choose the date, I had consulted Peng's father. Peng's father, as many peasants who could read and write, had a keen interest in fortune telling. He said my running into trouble was because I had not executed cautions in my own year -- I am a snake, and '89 was the year of the snake. He had shown me the description of the snake in one of his books: "The snake is the fiercest among all the creatures. The strongest men and the most beautiful women were born in the year of snake. The snake will live forever; it rebirths himself by shedding off its skin. Its road is never smooth. It comes out of the hole naked. It can either become a dragon to fly into the sky to create thunderstorms, or it can become a little dragon to raise waves in the seas and rivers, or it can become a python to block the way." He said I should have confidence in some of the mystic wisdom of our ancestors and should have consulted someone before. I should have known that the year of snake had been the most dangerous year for the nation throughout history. I should have tied a red string around my waist to scare away the demons. He had carefully studied my name by using a very complex calculation of the strokes and structure of the characters of it. He announced pleasantly that I would cut through either mountains or waters; nobody could stop me from moving to wherever I wanted to go -- there is too much metal element in my name, it is so strong and so powerful. I did not believe that my name had any more mystic impact on my destiny than the obvious positive psychological suggestion it carried -- it sounded strong. Neither did I believe in a lucky starting day. However, I was so nervous whenever I started to think about the future. I worried that the school would find out about my "black" history. For the next three years, if anyone wrote a letter to them, they would see me as a criminal (changing the dossier would be another crime). I was boarding the boat by sneaking in stealthily with a mask on. My status in the boat was considered illegal. I had to wear the mask. If somebody recognized me, I would be kicked out of the boat and thrown back into the hot water immediately. I could do little about it besides keeping my entering graduate school a secret to those who knew my history -- but how could I keep it a secret for three years? I only prayed that those knew me would not sell me out. But the fear was always hidden there. I wanted to find the most positive factors to bolster me up. Peng's father found that the 28th was the best day in that month for a new start. If I started on that day, I would be lucky from then on. His predication earned the first testimony on the very next day. -- I had been worrying that I would not be able to ship my luggage to the dorm at the university because there was no pick-up from the school on that day; it was ahead of their scheduled registration date. While I was wandering around on the street, I ran into a combat friend of mine whom I had rarely seen. He was a driver in a company. He told me he would be going to the provincial capital the next day and he could give me a ride. He would pick me up at six in the morning.

Waking up at around four in the morning of the 28th, I could not go back to sleep. I collected everything of mine, put it into two big bags, then took a chair to sit outside my room. Leaning against the wall, I looked through the fence to the far south. The sky was turning blue, some clouds were changing from dark to purple and to the color of fire. The river began to shine. A few people in white shone on the bridge high above the river. The air, fresh, warm air passed over me tenderly.

-- Lingling must be asleep at this moment. Does she know that I am awake, thinking of her? This city belongs to her. I have disturbed her life by landing here, now I will leave, leave forever. She does not belong to this small city; she had dreamed of leaving it with me. To take the exam to change my destiny was intended to make her happy. Now, the change of my destiny had nothing to do with her. A fisherman jumped into the sea to catch a fish to please his fair lady; when he turned back with the fish in hands, she was gone, gone with one who already had a fish in his hand. No, she had not left me because of the fish, but because of my insanity. How wonderful it would have been if I could have shared the fish with one I loved deeply!

I had sworn to myself in the cell: if I were set free, I would utilize all my life to prove to the world that I have been living in this world! Being is not a fact, it yet needs to be proven to be a fact. Now, I have the opportunity to prove that I have been breathing, crawling, thinking, hating, loving, crying, laughing, shivering, fighting and dreaming, with a tiny soul, with the sensation of pain, in this shape, in this stature, in this part of the Asian European continent, on this earth, in this universe! 

I looked up, looking at the colorful sky, a few lines of poetry came to mind:

 

A new day has arrived

The sorrow of yesterday

Let it be buried by yesterday

Why let it overflow the bank of the night?

The misfortune of tomorrow

Is still on the other side of the bank of tonight

 

Now

Sunlight is splashing on the surface of waters

Sunlight is dancing on the green mountains

Sunlight is throbbing in the yellow earth

Greenness is flowing in the morning breezes

Birds are rousing waves of light of songs in the trees

Now

The light of life gradually rises up in the boundless fields

Begins to lighten the sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

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