Freedom Swimmer

by Wai Chim

‘Li!’ Feng found us and slapped his comrade on the back. ‘Nice work yesterday. The Shu family was particularly taken by you.’

  ‘Fei’s wonderfully charming and sweet,’ Li said with a shrug and a grin. ‘She was telling me how she had never visited the city. I said she was welcome to visit and I’d show her around.’ I saw a lascivious spark in Feng’s eyes.

  And before I knew what was happening, my fist was sailing through the air and connecting with Li’s perfect face.

  Well, it was meant to be his face. At the last moment he jerked his chin up, so instead of destroying his perfect nose, my knuckles cracked against the front of his throat.

  Li reeled back, his eyes wide and desperate as he clutched his neck. I stepped back, horrified, grasping my hand to my chest like I’d burnt it.

  From nowhere, Tian rushed to Li’s side. Li was struggling for breath and his face was turning purple. ‘We have to get him to the nurse,’ Tian shouted as Li continued to splutter.

  Two more boys came over and the three of them struggled to pick up Li’s long thin body. His jaw was working helplessly, like the minnow that I had held in my hands.

  I stared as Tian herded the group down the road, dragging Li to the doctor’s house.

  A few of the villagers setting off to the fields stopped to stare; most of them had missed what had happened but they still whispered and pointed to me. A wave of nausea passed through me. My face burned with shame, and I took off.

  It was mid-morning by the time Tian joined me in the fields. My back was soaked, my neck chafed and my shoulder ached where the cord for the collecting basket dug in. I focused on picking the stalks of grain.

  Tian quickly worked his way over beside me. He would never make up the time he’d lost, which meant fewer points for the day. I felt even worse.

  ‘He’s going to be all right,’ Tian offered without my asking. ‘He’s having a hard time speaking but you missed his windpipe. He’ll just sound like he swallowed a frog for a while.’

  The queasiness took hold again and I said nothing.

  ‘I’m sorry to tell you he’s still as handsome as ever. But thanks for thinking of the rest of us.’

  My reply was a grunt. Tian was trying to reassure me with his joking, I knew, but the knot in my stomach only tightened.

  We worked in silence until the call for lunch came and we could set down our baskets. Tian made a dash back to the dormitory but I didn’t follow. The guilt had been gnawing at me all morning. I had to see Li.

  The doctor, or sifu as we called him as a sign of respect, worked in town but he kept basic supplies in his home in the village. We all called his wife Nurse Xi, even though she didn’t have any training.

  ‘My dear Ming, how are you?’ Nurse Xi greeted me, giving a knowing nod. ‘You’re here to see the Li boy.’

  I bowed sheepishly, relieved that she didn’t press for more details. She had always treated the orphans kindly.

  The doctor’s house was one of the largest in the village, with two big sleeping rooms, enough for two large families. But since they didn’t have sons or daughters of their own, the doctor’s wife used the rooms to care for patients, even letting them stay overnight.

  Li was lying on his back on a rickety bed, a washcloth pressed to his neck. He was breathing audibly, the inhale and exhale of air like an old man’s wheezing. He turned when he heard me approaching and I was surprised when he greeted me with his trademark grin, though there was no masking the wince of pain.

  ‘Hey, it’s the Flying General Lu Bu,’ he croaked.

  I blushed. Lu Bu was a ruthless general from ancient times who had betrayed his lord. Li’s eyes twinkled at the joke, which made me feel even worse. ‘I’m sorry, Li. I don’t know what came over me,’ I mumbled. ‘Are – are you okay?’

  Li tried to laugh. ‘Yeah, nothing some bitter herbs won’t fix.’ He winked and I realised Nurse Xi was hovering by the doorway; his words were for her benefit. Always the charmer. The thought of him charming Fei twisted my gut.

  ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’ I didn’t know what else to say.

  I turned to go but Li reached out and caught my wrist.

  ‘Hey, I was looking for you.’ He was whispering and I wasn’t sure if it was conspiratorial or out of necessity. I had no choice but to lean back over the bed.

  ‘I spoke to that girl yesterday.’ I felt my hands clench automatically and had to keep them by my sides. ‘Fei. She’s your friend, isn’t she?’ My lips wouldn’t work so I just nodded, narrowing my eyes.

  ‘She wanted me to give you something.’ He let go of my arm and reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, drawing out a carefully folded slip of paper.

  My hands were shaking as I unfolded it and saw the tiny neat marks. I’d never seen the handwriting but I instantly knew who it belonged to.

  ‘It’s a letter,’ Li said matter-of-factly. ‘She’d been waiting to give it to you, but felt shy with her friends around. Your village customs are so strange. In the city, boys and girls just talk to each other.’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, I said I’d be happy to be her messenger, doing my Party duty and all.’

  I barely heard him as I cradled that slip of paper in my hand, like a precious gold leaf. Fei had written me a letter. A letter from Fei.

  My heart and spirits soared and I couldn’t stop my smile. Li grinned broadly and then winced in pain. ‘I feel so stupid, Li,’ I babbled. ‘I saw you talking and I thought …’

  But Li’s eyes were reassuring. ‘Don’t worry about it. You village boys know a thing or two about wooing a girl don’t you?’

  I punched him playfully but Li cried out in surprise and moaned. My hand flew over my mouth in horror. But then he rolled over and let out a wheezy chuckle. Before I could react, he launched himself out of the bed and took a swing. Suddenly I was in a headlock, held down by Li’s surprising iron grip.

  Nurse Xi rushed into room. Li was laughing, with no hint of pain at all. I finally managed to break free and we both sat there grinning like idiots.

  ‘Well, I’m glad your friend’s visit has put you in good spirits,’ Nurse Xi said. ‘You’re clearly feeling well enough to get back to your duties.’

  Li sank back into the bed, one arm draped dramatically over his forehead. ‘Oh, Nurse Xi, I couldn’t possibly return to the fields. I must remain here under your gentle care,’ he gasped.

  ‘Careful now, those city charms won’t work around here.’ But she came over and used a gentle finger to probe his bruised throat. ‘Mmm, maybe an afternoon’s rest and some more herbs would do you good. Ming, you’ll let his squad leader know?’ She headed for the door and Li gave me a wink.

  I shook my head and smiled. I clutched Fei’s letter and hurried back to the fields.

  All afternoon, I could feel the letter like a warm stone in my pocket as I hunched over my basket. I was dying to read it, but I couldn’t until I was alone.

  I set off for the cliffs above the beach as soon as the speakers announced the end of the work day, scrabbling along the headlands until I finally settled onto a rock where I could peer down at the waves crashing below. From here, I could see the seemingly endless expanse of the sea. In the back of my mind, I knew if I could follow its currents all the way around the peninsula, it would take me all the way to the glittery lights of Hong Kong. But now was not the time to play with such ideas.

  My fingers trembled as I pulled open the slip of paper. The air was picking up around me – a storm was approaching – and I wondered if I should go back inside in case the wind carried off my precious paper. But I held it tight and squinted at the words:

  Ming Hong,

  How are you? It has been so many years. But the days and weeks here are all the same, blending together like a big soup, so in some ways, it’s like no time has passed at all. Isn’t that funny to think about?

  I still remember the night we spent at your house by the sea. Maybe you’ve forgotten now because it was so long ago. I usually try to push away the bad me
mories from that time, there are so many of them, but that memory always makes me smile. I remember you were very careful with the sweetpotato that I’d brought and how you lit the fire – I had never seen my father use the wood stove. But you looked like you knew what you were doing – did you help your mother at home before?

  I hope you liked the sweet potatoes. I still grow some in a little patch of garden, hidden away behind the back of the house where my aunt won’t find it. If she knew, she’d take everything for herself. She always does.

  My father died after I went home and my aunt took over the household. She works me very hard, I am always cooking and cleaning. She’s always hovering around, like a mosquito looking for another bite, another reason for me to be in trouble.

  I don’t know why I am writing this to you in a letter, only that it makes me feel free. I can say what I want to and not worry about what my aunt or the other girls will think. Writing this, it’s as if I’ve grown wings, that I can soar above the village and watch everything from up high, and never have any of its dirtiness touch me. Do you ever have that feeling?

  I don’t know if I will ever have the chance to give this to you. But even if your eyes never see them, at least I know that the words are written.

  May the path ahead be always steady,

  Fei

  I read and re-read the letter again, my eyes straining in the dim light. The moon was hidden behind the storm clouds, but still I read those words, until they were burned into my mind. I was smiling so wide, I thought my cheeks would burst. Fei remembered me. She thought of me, and often. Her words touched a part of me inside that I didn’t remember existed. It wasn’t just that I was happy.

  I was hopeful.

  The first clap of thunder jolted me back to the present. The skies opened and sheets of rain tumbled down. I tucked Fei’s letter into my shirt, hunched over to protect it as I sprinted back to the dorm. I collapsed inside, sodden. The other boys were preparing for bed, their curious eyes following me. Li was back, and gave me a little knowing wink.

  ‘Hey what are you so happy about?’ Tian asked with a smirk. ‘You meet one of those sexy fox spirits out there? She put you under a spell?’

  I was grinning like an idiot. And I didn’t care that he was teasing me. I whooped and dived for Tian and wrestled him to the ground. The other boys cheered us on, until I held Tian in a headlock.

  ‘Alright, alright,’ Tian conceded. He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Beating up Li this morning and now me, you’re becoming a regular animal.’

  I smiled and let him go. I had never beaten Tian in a grappling match before.

  When everyone was in bed, I waited until I could hear soft snoring before I pulled out Fei’s letter again. It was a little damp from the rain, but the ink hadn’t run and I was careful as I straightened it out over my knees. Her words again brought a smile to my face. By now I pretty much knew it by heart, but I still wanted to see the fine lines of her neat hand. I tucked the letter under my pillow and closed my eyes, imagining her hunched over the letter as she wrote. To me.

  My mind danced with the tangled fragments of poetry and phrases that would make up my reply.

  Chapter 7

  LI

  I didn’t want to read the letter. The business between a man and a woman – that’s a private affair. At least, that’s how it was in the city. I mean, you wouldn’t see courting girls and boys holding hands or doing anything except talking in public. But as long as their actions were not untoward, it was nobody else’s business.

  In the village, I realised, it was everybody’s business.

  I still couldn’t believe that Ming hadn’t spoken to the girl in six years – six years. I’d asked Fei about it and she had laughed, scarlet rising to her pretty face. ‘That’s not what happens here,’ she said. ‘It’s not like the city.’

  I just shook my head. It had barely been two weeks, and I had already heard the comparison more times than I could count. The villagers all seemed to think that life in Guangzhou, ‘the city’, was almost magical. They had asked me over and over again to describe indoor plumbing and toilets. Few of them had ever been more than ten miles from the place they were born. It was difficult to obtain permission to travel on non-Party business even if one was just visiting family.

  There were other things about the village that I didn’t understand. The first day, I was hoping to wash off the sweat and dirt of work and remembered seeing a river on our drive in. So I’d asked Wang about it and he just shook his head.

  ‘You can’t go to the river,’ he said.

  ‘Aww, don’t worry, I won’t go in deep or anything.’ I wasn’t a strong swimmer but I was pretty sure I’d be okay to at least dip my toes in and rinse off.

  ‘No-one can go. It’s haunted,’ Wang said.

  ‘Haunted? What do you mean it’s haunted?’ But Wang just shrugged and went back to his cards.

  ‘You can go to the beach,’ Tian had finally offered. ‘The water is salty but Ming loves it. He’s probably there now.’

  I’d nodded my thanks and he gave me some vague directions. That was the night I first swam with Ming.

  No-one would tell me anything else about the river. ‘It’s haunted,’ Ming said when I asked him and he gave me the same shrug.

  I thought to make a comment, push him for an answer, but the pained expression on his face told me there was something else there – that it wasn’t just another silly village superstition.

  So I didn’t ask.

  When it came to superstitions, the villagers had loads. One insisted his illiteracy brought him good luck. ‘The word book sounds like lose so I stay away. Better for mahjong,’ he tutted when he spotted us hunched over our texts.

  There was the old lady in town who ‘read faces’. She claimed to be able to tell if you would be lucky and have a good life.

  ‘Your lobes are big like the Buddha,’ she told Feng. ‘You will have good fortune and great success, it is in the stars.’

  ‘Nonsense, my good success comes from hard work and discipline. I thought these superstitions and counterrevolutionary beliefs had been purged from China,’ Feng had scoffed.

  ‘It’s pretty harmless.’ I actually found it kind of charming, but didn’t say.

  ‘She’d be arrested if she was in Guangzhou.’ The way he spoke, I wondered if he had half a mind to march the old lady to the labour camps himself.

  The old lady cackled as if reading my mind, and turned to me. ‘You, you have a handsome face. You have a cleft in the chin. It means you seek attention,’ she went on. I frowned, unsure of how to answer that, but she didn’t stop for my opinion. ‘But I also think it means something else. The angle of your nose says the same. Long and strong. You will lead two lives.’

  Her words chilled me. It was utter nonsense, silly folklore, but the way her eyes bored into me, I couldn’t help but wonder what she saw.

  Feng shook his head beside me. ‘Of course you say that about us. We have already begun two lives, first under the brainwashed bourgeois and now rebirthed as Chairman Mao’s people.’ He chuckled. ‘Honestly, you villagers are ridiculous. You see a rat and think it’s a demon.’

  Feng’s practicality brought some comfort, but I couldn’t shake the creeping sensation.

  A double life.

  I knew, somehow, that Feng was wrong. She meant another life, different from the one I’d led up to now. For a moment I wondered if she meant a life outside of China, one where I wasn’t working for the glory of the Party.

  Even thinking it was counter-revolutionary, and I dismissed the idea as soon as it came to mind.

  But it didn’t stop my heart from racing.

  Ming and I spent our evenings at the beach. After that first night, I stayed out of the surf, sticking to the protected cove. I was getting much better. Ming was a patient instructor and an exceptional swimmer. In the water, his shyness was gone. He was confident and sure, each stroke deliberate. There was no doubt in my mind that Ming was a demon
of the sea.

  I was waiting for him one evening, gazing out to where the sky joined the water. The lapping of the waves was hypnotic and I felt my mind empty. Village life was far from easy, but its hardness could be a welcome distraction.

  Ming hurried towards me, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. The eager look on his face told me there would be no swimming today. ‘You finished?’ I asked.

  He nodded. ‘I – I was hoping – I was wondering,’ he stammered, his face red as a gourd, his hand shaking as he held out the page. ‘Could you … read it?’

  I bit my lip, not sure how to respond. Ming and I had become close, but we had only known each other a few months. Except for Tian, who acted like his older brother, Ming didn’t seem to have many friends. He was more than an orphan; he was an outcast in this tiny community where everyone was everyone else’s minder. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

  ‘Are you sure you want me to?’ I asked. ‘It’s very … personal.’

  Ming nodded. ‘You’re a words man. I need you to tell me if it’s good.’

  I took the letter from him and unfolded it. He’d been working on it for weeks, so I was expecting a lengthy exposition or even a well-crafted poem. But Ming’s letter amounted to no more than a couple of paragraphs.

  Comrade Fei,

  How are you? I am fulsome and in good health. I was surprised to receive your letter of communications. It was acceptable to me.

  I, too, recall that day that you wrote of. The weather had been pleasing for the season. The sweet potatoes were satisfying and sufficient. I am obliged to recompense your esteem.

  It is of the utmost importance to arouse the broad masses of women to join in productive activity. I am pleased that you are productive with the matters that are of concern to you about your aunt.

  ‘Comrades throughout the Party must never forget this experience for which we have paid in blood.’

  Women hold up half the sky and I thank you for your words and diligent service.

  Ming