by Wai Chim
Instead, I kept walking until I could hear the sea kissing the rocks along the headland. The waves seemed to whisper as they lapped the sand. I sat on the rocks to eavesdrop on their secrets.
Ours was an old fishing village set on a peninsula. Some families still earned their living on the sea, but most were farmers like my parents. While most of the villagers knew how to swim, my father had a particular affinity for the water; he always said that there was nothing wiser than the sea.
When I was four, he taught me to swim in a little pool at the edge of the beach, protected from the rough waves.
I became a strong swimmer, even trying my luck diving for pearls from the rocky floor of the bay. The other boys my age, including Tian, were always daring each other to try, holding our breaths until our lungs burned and the pressure in our noses burst the delicate vessels in our nostrils so that they bled in the water as we tried to dislodge the sharp shells. We didn’t have much luck and never found any pearls, of course.
Tonight, with the end of summer nearing, the water was cool and refreshing, washing away the day’s layers of dirt and sweat.
I floated on my back, gazing at the stars and thinking about my father.
During one of our swimming lessons, I was testing how long I could hold my breath underwater. I loved skimming below the surface, feeling the bubbles of my breath pop against my face.
‘All you need is a set of gills and you could swim to Hong Kong,’ Ba had said.
‘Why would I swim there?’ I had visions of diving for pearls and finding treasure chests left behind by warlords and pirates. Swimming to an island didn’t seem that interesting and I said as much.
My father smiled. ‘Treasures and trinkets may be valuable, but there is no price you can put on what Hong Kong can offer a village man like you or me.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Freedom.’
A slap across my right cheek startled me from my reverie. I lifted my head in time to see a silver tail disappearing back into the murk. The fish was quick, but I was faster. I cupped my hands and lifted the fish out of the water, creating a cage with my fingers so that it couldn’t flop out.
When I felt the slippery body still, I snuck a peek. It was a small thing, maybe a mackerel or even a large minnow, caught between my palms, its gills billowing uselessly.
I closed my hands again and carefully manoeuvred to the side of the pool, then leaned over to plunge my arms into the sea. The body stirred, sharp fins digging into my skin. I brought my head down so my lips were almost touching the water.
‘Swim, my friend. Swim to freedom.’
I pulled my fingers apart, breaking the cage. There was silver flash and it was gone, washed away by a wave. I felt myself smiling as I pictured the thin body swimming against the current, dodging the sharks that plagued these waters, pushing out towards the open sea.
Chapter 3
MING
We were out in the fields when we heard the trucks coming in. Three of them, pulling in slowly and rocking from side to side. There hadn’t been a vehicle in Dingzai for months and we all dropped our tools to watch as they pulled up to the work hall. The driver of each truck hopped down and pulled aside the canvas covering the back and, one by one, shy figures emerged.
Our city youths had arrived.
‘Any girls?’ Tian was at my side, shielding his eyes from the sun. It was hard to tell from this distance, with all their bodies hidden under stiff new village work uniforms. Gone were their green military uniforms and caps, though a few of them still had red bands around their arms, the only physical evidence left of their Red Guard status.
One of the red bands came to the front, probably a boy by the way he walked, and raised a hand. All at once, the rest of the group spread out in a neat row. The boy seemed to be barking instructions, but we could barely make out his lips moving, and had no idea what he might be saying.
‘Hey! Get back to work!’ The team leader had caught us shirking, which meant point deductions for sure. I scooped up my knife, but Tian had other ideas.
‘I’m going to go see.’
‘But what about –?’ He cut me off with a wave, reaching for his front pocket as he strode over to the team leader.
‘Smoke break, sir.’ The leader eyed him warily but accepted one of the cigarettes Tian waved towards him. Tian helped him light up before lighting his own. The supervisor dismissed him with a grunt.
Tian winked at me before scampering away.
As tempted as I was to join him, I had nothing to offer. So I hunched back over, hacking away at the millet plants with long, swift strokes, like in the old kung fu movies they used to screen for the villagers in the work hall in the days before the Cultural Revolution, before they were replaced by the Party-endorsed operas.
When the horn blared for lunch, I dropped my tools and headed back to the dormitory.
I pushed open the door, calling out, ‘Hey Tian, did you find –’
Four lean, curious faces peered back at me.
‘Who are you?’ the tallest boy demanded.
‘Who are you?’ I said, without thinking. ‘What are you doing in my room?’
‘Cadre put us here. Are you from the village?’ His accent was smooth and crisp, a city voice. Maybe Guangzhou.
I nodded and the four strangers exchanged a look. I wanted to shrink into myself. Where was Tian when I needed him?
‘I’m Li,’ the boy said. He was a good head taller than I was. To my surprise, Li flashed a warm friendly smile and offered me his hand. I realised I had never shaken anyone’s hand before. Villagers hardly ever greeted each other with such formality, just a short bow or a nod of greeting, and kowtowing for more formal occasions like weddings.
I hesitated before reaching out. The boy’s grip was firm but his fingers were soft and unblemished. I felt ashamed of the grime that coated my skin.
‘I’m Ming,’ I said awkwardly, unsure about whether to return the pressure of Li’s grip or let go. I waited until Li pumped our joined hands twice and then dropped my arm back to my side. Li gestured to the group. ‘This is Feng, Kamshui and Ah-Jun.’ The boys nodded in turn. They all looked the same to me – tall and thin with smooth skin. They had the same expression of curiosity and pity.
I did my best to smile wide like Li, but it felt like I was just trying to show off the crowdedness of my teeth.
‘So this is it?’ Ah-Jun said, taking in the modest room. He spoke the same regional dialect but his voice was higher pitched. ‘There’s not even glass in the windows.’
I blushed and shuffled my feet, not sure if he was expecting me to answer. Evidently not, as Feng chimed in.
‘It’s simple, humble. Timber and earth and the hard work of the people.’ He was shorter than his friends but he held himself tall. He belted out his words, as if each one was of great importance. ‘If it’s good enough for our peasant brethren, it’s good enough for me.’ He strode up to the wall and slapped it with an open palm. The little building shook, showering us with bits of dust and gravel.
‘Easy there, comrade.’ Li chuckled softly. ‘You don’t want to take down the entire village on our first day. There’s more than enough work to do.’
My ears perked up. ‘Work?’ I asked, suddenly conscious of my own yowling expressions compared to the boys’ smooth, purring speech.
Li smiled. ‘That’s right. We will be offering our assistance to your village, working side by side with our brothers to ensure a productive labour force. We will, of course, be looking to you to show us how to best complete the tasks at hand.’
I nodded, still getting used to the unique lilt of his voice. ‘How many are there?’
‘Thirty in this early group, spread over Dapeng,’ Feng replied. ‘We’re lucky to be among the first.’ The expressions from the others made me wonder if they really saw themselves as ‘lucky’.
‘That’s right,’ Li said. ‘Most of us are from Guangzhou, though some heeded the call from other parts of
the province.’ He flashed that winning smile again. ‘Up to the mountains, down to the villages. Your area is one of the first to take part in the Party’s new program.’
‘Um, it’s an honour,’ I said, though I wasn’t sure what it all meant. I glanced around the suddenly cramped room, noticing that an extra set of bunk beds had already been moved in, with backpacks and clothes strewn about. My eyes fell on a familiar-looking red cover.
‘Quotations from Chairman Mao Zedong, we have that too.’ I pointed to the book.
Li stooped to retrieve it. ‘The only words you’ll need to know. The only words worth knowing these days,’ he said with a bright smile, handing the book to me. I traced the letters on the cover. Unlike mine, which still looked brand new, this book was well thumbed.
‘So, uh, you guys must read a lot?’ I said, brushing over the worn silhouette of Mao.
Feng narrowed his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean to imply by that? Don’t you know Chairman Mao Zedong himself says “To read too many books is harmful.”’
My face felt like it was on fire. ‘I … I just mean you must read newspapers and all that. You know, like the People’s Daily or the Worker’s Daily …’
‘Oh, don’t tell me you buy into the rubbish in the Worker’s Daily!’ Ah-Jun shook his head. ‘There are only three papers worth the pages they are printed on: People’s Daily, Liberation Army Daily and Red Flag.’ My ears burned with shame at my ignorance.
‘No need to confuse the boy,’ Feng said, before turning to me. ‘You don’t need to worry. Just study Mao Zedong’s wise teachings; they will deliver us from our bourgeois past towards the great rebirth.’
Li went over and clapped his friend on the shoulder. ‘Sorry, Ming,’ he said. ‘Comrade Feng here likes to spill vernacular, mistaking himself for a politician.’ The other boys laughed, even Feng. I gave a small smile.
Li flashed me another lopsided grin. He was good looking. I wondered if, in the city, he had a girlfriend. No-one in the village would even think of having a relationship until they were ready to marry, when they were about eighteen, but I knew things were different in the city. In the city, maybe, maybe I could talk to Fei.
‘So Ming, which of Chairman Mao’s doctrines do you find the most meaningful?’ Li asked.
My mouth went dry and I swallowed hard, gaping like a stranded fish. ‘I … I … I –’
Just then, the door burst open. ‘Boys!’ a voice boomed. ‘The long-awaited army has finally arrived.’
I heaved a sigh of relief as Tian bounded into the room.
Tian was already greeting everyone, his hands clasped in front of him in the old-fashioned imperialist greeting, not like my awkward handshake with Li. Tian grinned broadly like a seasoned host. ‘Welcome, welcome to our humble village.’ He paused when he came to Li.
‘What, they’ve got the movie stars down here now too?’ Tian quipped. Li flashed him a good-natured smile. ‘So much for the girls, we don’t stand a chance with this one.’ Tian clapped the taller boy on the shoulder, like an old friend.
‘Comrade, you can rest assured that my only interest here is to further the cause.’ Li said with a laugh. ‘I’m Li.’
‘I’m Tian, welcome … comrade,’ he added. I had never heard him sound so formal before. He must have been eager to impress. ‘So, what’s the story, boys? Are there any girls coming?’
The group chuckled.
A knock came at the door and, without waiting for a response, a city boy with a red armband poked his head around the door. ‘Time for a Party meeting,’ he barked. He drew back when he saw me and Tian.
‘Who’s this?’ He addressed the new boys, not us.
‘They’re local boys,’ Li offered. ‘Ming and Tian, this is Commander Hongbing, our squad leader.’
Hongbing huffed, and paid us no further attention. ‘We have a meeting in the hall in fifteen minutes.’ He cast Tian and I another sidelong glance. ‘And I’m sure your comrades have their own duties to attend to.’
I swallowed and was about apologise and agree, but Tian elbowed me in the side before I could.
‘Aye, Commander Hongbing.’ The other boys rose and followed their leader out, but Li paused by the door. He lifted his clasped hands in the same imperial style Tian had.
‘See you soon,’ he said. Tian laughed and returned the farewell.
‘I like him,’ Tian declared, throwing himself down on the bed Feng had just been sitting on. He reached for a backpack.
‘Hey, that’s not ours,’ I said, but it was too late. Tian was already rummaging through the pockets.
‘Clothes, papers, boring.’ He tossed the offending items aside. ‘Where is the good stuff ? Don’t these city boys have comic books and magazines?’ He picked up the red book. ‘Who’s this guy? Check out his jowls – like those men in them salty-wet cartoons where the girls all have dai tofu.’ He mimed lewdly and I rolled my eyes.
‘That’s Quotations from Chairman Mao Zedong – The Little Red Book,’ I said, reaching for the book but he batted my hand away. ‘They gave us all that book. Don’t you remember?’
‘A revolution is not a dinner party, or writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery,’ Tian read in his halting voice, mispronouncing half the words. ‘What is this crap? Painting a picture? I can paint you a picture.’ I snatched the book from him as he reached for the particular part of his anatomy he was going to ‘draw’ with.
‘Stop it, what’s wrong with you?’ I smoothed the pages and returned the book to the bag. ‘You can’t say stuff like that around these guys. It’s … you can’t, you just can’t.’
‘What was all that bourgeois crap they were talking about?’ Tian scoffed, also mispronouncing bourgeois. He must have been listening outside the door, I realised. ‘They’re a bunch of spoiled brats who think they can fight wars and feed themselves with words.’ He spat on the ground, and a wet star glistened from the dirt floor. ‘I’ll show them what they can do with their little red book.’ He reached for the book again, intending to align it with the backside of his trousers before I yanked it from his grasp.
‘You are such a trouble maker,’ I exclaimed and he laughed.
‘All right, come on. We better head back to the fields before this lot starts taking over.’
We didn’t see the boys for the rest of the afternoon. The trucks that had brought them rattled back down the road.
At dinner time, Tian and I returned early to the dormitory. It was our turn to prepare the evening meal. There wasn’t much to go around, and our cooking skills paled in comparison to our memories of our mothers, but we made the most of it.
But when I opened the door, a fine feast was already laid out. There were bowls of rice and at least three vegetable dishes. It was as much food as we would have had to celebrate the New Year.
Li stood over the little stove, ladling out hot broth.
‘Tian, Ming, welcome home. I hope you’re hungry,’ he said with a smile. There was no table, so Feng, Ah-Jun and Kamshui had laid everything out on the floor of the tiny alcove we used for the kitchen. ‘Please take a seat,’ he added, pointing.
I wasn’t sure what to think. No-one had cooked for us since our parents and we were all precious about rations and coupons. Why were these new arrivals being so generous? I swallowed and looked helplessly at Tian. His face said nothing, but his eyes were hard. But then he just shrugged and moved to take a squat. Wang and Cho were already seated, their grins stretching as they eyed the spread.
Li waited until we had settled in before placing the bowls of broth before us. ‘We thought we would prepare dinner for you boys, as a way of thanking you for the warm welcome to your home!’ He grinned wide, his teeth shining bright white.
‘Wow, fat pork meat!’ Wang reached forward to pinch a piece of pork, but Cho slapped his friend’s hand away.
‘This was the last of our city rations. Commander Hongbing explained we’ll have to stick to the village diet from now on, so we thought we would ha
ve a last feast. Please, help yourselves.’ Li said, before plunging his chopsticks into his rice bowl.
I picked up my own chopsticks. Wang, Cho and Tian dove straight in but I was suddenly feeling shy.
Meanwhile, Li ate heartily, his chopsticks making a soft ting against the sides of the bowl. The other boys were eating away and I awkwardly scraped some rice and meat into my bowl.
The food was delicious; it had been months since I’d had any meat. I wondered whether the city boys ate like this every day and felt a pang of jealousy as I remembered Fei’s tiny sweet potatoes.
Li finally set his nearly empty bowl back on the table. ‘So, where are the rest of the villagers?’ he asked goodnaturedly.
‘They eat at home,’ Tian said with his mouth full.
‘I thought the villagers would all eat together. Communal dining, in the true spirit of Communism. It was one of Chairman Mao’s core ideas,’ Ah-Jun said with a frown.
‘That was stopped ages ago,’ I muttered into my bowl.
‘Surely a village like this is the perfect place for the true order of Communism, the commune, to thrive?’ Feng said. He glared at me, as though expecting me to explain the village’s counter-revolutionary betrayal.
I kept my attention on my bowl of food. These boys didn’t understand. How could they? The Three Years of Natural Disasters had decimated our village. By the end of the first year, the communal cook was boiling stones in the giant stock pots.
Tian cleared his throat. ‘The villagers just stopped coming,’ he said, trying his best to sound matter-of-fact. ‘There was no food.’
Li set down his bowl and straightened. He was so tall that even sitting down it felt like he was standing at a podium. ‘Well, I for one am honoured to be sharing this meal with my dearest brothers – and our newest comrades. To share our food and to share our home. And I hope that the other villagers may see fit to join us in time, in the true spirit not just of Communism, but friendship.’
