by Lin Zhe
The curtain lifted for the prologue and I entered the stage as Chrysanthemum’s understudy. The plot developed according to script. We had a romantic dinner on the weekend and Western Herdsman was attentive to me in every detail. After the meal, since he had not said all he had to say, the man suggested, “Let’s leave the noise of the city and go to the outskirts to breathe some fresh air.” So we set out for Huairou District, on the north side of Beijing, in a remodeled SUV. The night sights of the Great Wall, the bright moon, the stardust…
If there hadn’t been a warning from Chrysanthemum’s own chariot tracks, would I also have sunk into them, thinking I had encountered love? Western Herdsman spoke his lines from the script, but I went beyond the prescribed scene and asked, “Hey, you’ve got it all down about creating romance, but what if an online lady falls into your web and can’t get out, then what?” He gave a big laugh, and not without some satisfaction. “My mission is to leave a little flavor in their insipid lives.” I said that my life wasn’t insipid, that it had all kinds of flavors all jumbled together, so one more or less wouldn’t make much of a difference. “I really feel bad about wasting your time.”
The practical joke that Chrysanthemum designed was for me to pretend to be intoxicated by romance. After we came down from the mountain, I would take him home, to Chrysanthemum’s home, that is. Worried that I might get lost, she had drawn a map and put it into my pocket.
When Western Herdsman pointed to an airliner in the night sky, he said, “Doesn’t that look just like a shooting star?” I thought how he had once said the very same thing to Chrysanthemum and was convulsed with laughter. He looked at me, puzzled. Time passed, minute by minute. Still I couldn’t control my laughter. Western Herdsman must have groaned inwardly at his bad luck in running into this nutcase.
Sorry, Chrysanthemum, my laughing wasn’t in the script and the performance died young. It was time to wind everything up before I ended up shaking everything out of the cloth bundle and giving her game away. Western Herdsman was still enough of a gentleman not to throw me out on the mountainside. He concentrated on driving the car and said not a word the whole way back to the center of the city.
I was giggling like some out-of-control motor as I pounded open Chrysanthemum’s door. After letting me in, she peered all around me, as if Western Herdsman were following right behind. When she found out I had blown the performance, she furiously grabbed up a cushion from the sofa and hurled it at me.
“Oh, Chrysanthemum, don’t get yourself into these one-sided love situations. The arrival of the Internet has created a borderless world, and so no one exists in his or her own special little sphere anymore. Even if you had double the charm, you’ve got to put yourself into perspective. Every day Western Herdsman can screen and select countless charming women just like you from the Internet. Why should he waste time on you alone? Who would just eye one course at a rich banquet and gorge himself only on it?”
Chrysanthemum looked at the ceiling uneasily, and after thinking for a long time, asked, “Don’t people really need love anymore?”
This question was a bit academic, not like the thinking of a New Wave woman, and it took me aback.
Maybe it’s not that people don’t need love now, but the requirements for love have disappeared, like those organisms that became extinct on the earth. It wasn’t that they sought their own extinction, only that the conditions for their survival no longer existed. Love was the product of agricultural society. In those times, people never knew very many other people over the course of their lives. If Lin Daiyu lived in the Internet age, would she have still hovered between life and death for Jia Baoyu?
“If there’s no love in life, what’s the sense of living?” Two brokenhearted teardrops rolled slowly down Chrysanthemum’s face. “Ai, I shouldn’t have been so obsessed with getting to the truth of this. Now that I have, the few wonderful images that remained are gone. I feel just like a total idiot. Never mind, I’ll just marry my blockhead, Ah Mu.”
Whenever verging on pessimism, she always thought of her computer repairman, Ah Mu. The guy still hovered moonstruck around her. This true love was worth protecting, like protecting an animal that was in imminent danger.
In fact, Chrysanthemum did not attain sudden enlightenment and marry Ah Mu. Rather, she began to go crazy making dates with Internet partners. In two months she saw over ten men. As she roamed about online, her luck went from bad to worse. She never dated anyone actually worth a second time. Zhang Three’s stare is too horny. Li Four’s shoes are too dirty, and he’s more of a blockhead than Ah Mu. The last one she summoned was a software engineer. The software engineer told her that a certain company was currently developing a kind of software with which in the near future the Internet could send out pulses and link up with other Internet users’ brains. All people had to do would be stretch out a finger and click on a key and you could get the feelings of the Seven Emotions and the Six Desires: love, fantasy, happiness, sadness, and even the feelings of floating like an Immortal after love and smoking dope. “The end of the world is here,” mused the engineer.
Chrysanthemum had heaved a great sigh upon hearing this. “If such software hits the world, even Ah Mu wouldn’t pay any attention to me. Everyone would just get married to their ice-cold computers. What a scary idea!”
She made up her mind to get out of these Internet games. It was as if by fleeing the Internet, she was fleeing the end of the world.
They say that God punished humanity for building the Tower of Babylon, but humans have never let go of their dream of building towers. Nowadays, the Internet, this present-day Tower, is going to break through the vault of heaven. How will God, if there really is a God who created and runs the universe, deal with rebellious humanity?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – FAREWELL, WEST GATE
1.
SUDDENLY, “GOING INTO the mountains and down to the countryside”58 had everyone stirred up once again in sleepy Old Town. The West Gate moat area was no longer the spot forgotten by time. Here, every pigeon coop of a dwelling had one or two young people who were mostly idle. Day after day this little corner resounded with drums, gongs, and firecrackers enthusiastically sending them off to merge with the tide of the times.
This deafening noise roused Dr. Lin from his fortress of isolation, and he and Second Sister busied themselves in sending off the West Gate youngsters. They had seen these young people grow up, and more than a few umbilical cords among them had been cut by the doctor himself. These children had grown like weeds but were now just hanging around West Gate Street with nothing to do. Some of them had even gotten into bad ways, like fighting and stealing, and this had always filled the doctor with worry. He supported these rustication movements, just as years before he had supported his own family’s three children joining the army and the political side. Some of the neighbors couldn’t make up their minds about sending their children to join this movement and they would come running over to ask the doctor’s views. He always said firmly that the children should go.
He bought a lot of medicines for contingency needs, like huangliansu for diarrhea, Somidon, and mercurochrome, packed these in the local cowhide envelopes, and gave one to each young person about to leave West Gate. For several nights straight through to daylight, Second Sister rushed to sew together lined jackets for the children of poor families. Our old-style family sewing machine was bought at that time.
On this day, the front page of the provincial news displayed at the West Gate Street news board prominently featured the photograph of a female cadre wearing a big red flower. The article reporting her exemplary deeds was several thousand characters long and someone recognized her as the Lin family’s daughter-in-law. People crowded two and three deep, commenting on this. “Look how she gave up her chance to be deputy director of the commerce bureau revolutionary committee. She intends to take her husband and child into the mountains and down to the countryside. This woman has long-range dreams. She must be aiming to be mayo
r or governor. The Lin ancestors were virtuous and their descendents have blessings and happiness.”
Toward evening, the old codger in charge of the news board took down the newspaper and gave it to the Lins and, sticking up his thumb, said, “Dr. Lin, your family’s daughter-in-law is something special. We West Gate people are going to produce a big shot, hey!”
The doctor and his wife were busy just then and after glancing at Fangzi’s photograph, put the paper aside. A little while later, Baoqing came in and the doctor handed the newspaper to him. “Fangzi has gotten a lot fatter. Tell her to go the hospital for a checkup. She may be suffering from an endocrine imbalance.”
Baoqing stood blankly beside the sewing machine. Tomorrow he would be leaving Old Town and had come back here to say good-bye to his father and mother. He thought of the destitution and homelessness his mother had experienced in her lifetime. He looked at the wrinkles on her face and at her white hair. How could he bear to let her go through the pain of her family scattering in chaotic times again? For several days in a row now he had come back here, but he just couldn’t say what he wanted.
Baoqing had never expected Fangzi to do this astounding thing. She was willing to pay so big a price to separate him from his parents.
Her satisfaction at being a part of officialdom never in the slightest diverted Fangzi’s attention from her husband. When she discovered that Baoqing, under strict economic sanctions, had actually become an “inside” thief, lifting all the small change from the savings box, selling off old things, even a watch and heavy woolens, and bringing money to West Gate promptly every month, she gave up all hope. In her despair, her hatred of her mother-in-law was kindled to even greater heights and she thought of many ways to exact revenge. One of these was the frightening idea of sending Baoqing to jail. Just writing a big character poster exposing his reactionary comments would be enough to cause her mother-in-law to lose her son. If I can’t have him, then you can’t either! When she threatened Baoqing in this way, Baoqing showed no fear and only again calmly mentioned the word divorce. Just then, Fangzi, at her wits’ end, received the Central Committee’s internal document about cadre rustication. Right then and there, she decided leave Old Town and take Baoqing with her. In her application she signed for both husband and wife, and, fervid with revolutionary passion, requested a speedy departure to the toughest place possible.
Fangzi immediately became an important person in the Old Town news. “Learn from Fangzi and Baoqing” slogans were posted on the walls around the Commerce Bureau and colleagues trooped into Baoqing’s office to congratulate him. Baoqing, like the proverbial mute who had eaten bitter herbs (and was unable to express his discomfort), could only voice some high-sounding words and slogans. The place that Fangzi had chosen was where Baoqing had fled to when he was a little boy, Nanjing County, that very same “it’s a long story” place.
Baoqing pretended an interest on learning to pedal the sewing machine and help his mother do this work. He stalled to the last minute, and then he pulled from out of his shirt pocket a pile of banknotes, three months of support money that he had stolen from the drawer he had pried open.
“It’s still early yet. Where did this money come from?” Second Sister asked.
Baoqing lowered his head and with some hemming and hawing replied, “Ma, you and Dad take good care of yourselves. I’m going away.”
“Where are you going?”
Baoqing pointed his finger at the newspaper on the floor. Second Sister picked it up and brought it closer to the light to look at it. When she gathered what the article said, her anguished heart felt as if a piece had been cut out of it. She knew, of course, the real motive behind Fangzi’s revolutionary act. Oh, Baoqing! How could you have such a bitter fate, son? Second Sister said nothing, though, and gathering up the material she had been working on, found a piece of cloth and hurriedly set out to make a little lined jacket for Wei’er.
That night, Second Sister couldn’t sleep. The sky had not yet lightened as she stood at the gate of the commerce bureau, where small specks of lamplight shone in the bureau’s living quarters. She had no idea which unit belonged to Baoqing’s family. For many years now she had wanted to go see what building Baoqing lived in and how he passed his days, but she was afraid of causing trouble for him and so never went there. After she stood there in the cold wind for about an hour, Baoqing and his wife and child appeared amid drums and gongs.
Second Sister went forward and greeted Fangzi and covered Wei’er with the little lined jacket. Fangzi haughtily tilted her head to one side and didn’t for one instant look at Second Sister. If Fangzi hadn’t been surrounded by the crowd of people who were “learning from her,” she certainly would have poured out abuse at this woman with whom she was struggling over the same man.
Baoqing came over to her and, putting his arm around his mother’s shoulders, said, “Ma. Just go home. We’ll meet soon.”
He was thinking of divorce. He just had to leave this despotic woman who couldn’t tolerate his mother.
“Son, be good to Fangzi, and treat her a bit better. You have to let her know that you belong to her. That from the day you were both married, you were hers.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Fangzi caught sight of Baoqing’s tears as he spoke with his mother. The jealousy that she had done all she could to repress exploded. She ordered Baoqing to go move their baggage. Fiercely she pointed at Second Sister’s nose and said, “Do you know why your son has fallen this low? It was because of you! You’d better take a good look at him now, because you won’t be seeing him again in this lifetime!”
Baoqing couldn’t hear what Fangzi was saying, but he saw her expression and hand gestures. As he hastily and nervously turned back to take care of his mother, Second Sister said to him, “Fangzi wants Ma to make you a lined jacket. When you get there, write home as soon as possible and Ma will make you and Fangzi one each and send these to you.”
Second Sister tried hard to look calm as she watched the long-distance bus depart. As it disappeared at the end of the road, she thought she was going to burst out in bitter tears and she took out her handkerchief, but not a drop fell. A vague presentiment within her was now gradually becoming clearer: This was only the beginning. A new cycle of upheaval was beginning for the Lin family. When her thoughts reached this point, she unconsciously straightened up. This was a strong woman who did not shed tears easily. When real difficulty hit, she would just straighten up and bear the weight of the crossbeam of their home. Even though she was now already an old lady of sixty-five, there was still no difficulty that could crush her.
Grandma’s presentiment turned out to be true. Within six months, my Uncle Baosheng and his family, Enchun, and many relatives all left Old Town amid the drums and gongs. My mother was sent from the hospital in P Town and became a barefoot doctor in the rural areas. At that time, my stepfather was still in jail. Day after day, Grandma would stand under the oleander, looking out for the postman. Flowers blossom and fade in a very short season. Her hair was totally white now.
2.
THE REVERBERATIONS and after-tones of the drums and gongs had not yet faded away when all of a sudden Old Town entered a Number One State of War Readiness. No one knew where the enemy was going to come from. The street idlers spoke to each other in low voices, just as if they were convening an emergency session of the Ministry of Defense, and each person was the most authoritative of military experts. Some said that the Soviet Union was going to drop an A-bomb on China. “Look, the newspapers are publishing popular science articles on how to defend against a nuclear war.” Others said that American aircraft carriers were headed for Taiwan and that Chiang Kai-shek was going to counterattack the mainland. There were also rumors that the Number One State of War Readiness was connected with Marshall Lin Biao.
Before such “military secrets” had the chance to reach our home, Great-Auntie suddenly arrived, wiping her tears. “It’s bad…this war business…We suffered through eight ye
ars of the War of Resistance, but this time for sure we’ll never get through it. Second Sister, Ninth Brother, we’ll only meet again in the next life in the next world.”
Grandpa and Grandma looked at each other in blank dismay, unable to guess what was wrong this time with Great-Auntie. She leaned over the table and, between bouts of crying, told us the reason for all this. She and Rotten Egg had received a notice for emergency evacuation. In three days they were going to be sent to a little county about one hundred miles from Old Town. She drew from her stomach bib a piece of paper and read, “Little Bog Village, Bog Hollow Production Brigade, Bog Hollow Commune.”
“Add Rotten Egg and me together and you get almost one hundred and fifty years. We’ll never live through this war. Today is the last day we’ll be meeting. Second Sister, Ninth Brother, I can’t bear to lose you, really I can’t. And then there’s Hong’er…”
She pulled me toward her as she said this and took off a silver bracelet and put it on my own wrist.
The school was not holding classes now. Every day we dug air raid tunnels into the hill behind the Martyrs’ Cemetery. This felt like a new kind of game. A bunch of us students of the same age would fill up a few baskets with earth, but most of the time we spent playing games and running around like crazy on the top of the hill. I thought Great-Auntie was teasing me, like that kid who played the joke of calling “Wolf!” She pulled my hand and was brokenhearted over our final parting. But I just laughed.
Grandma took the piece of paper and read over and over. “Is this true? With you two as old as you both are, too old for shoulder poles, and no strength in your hands, how can they order you to go out there?”
“It’s not the mountains-and-countryside movement, it’s an evacuation. There’s going to be a war. Nowadays the bombs are much worse than during the time of the Japs. There won’t be any more Old Town!”
