Freedom Swimmer

by Wai Chim

  Ming stayed silent.

  I was still full of energy when we returned to the dormitory, eager to recount our heroic tale to our comrades.

  ‘Ming and I saw someone jump into the ocean,’ I said. ‘He jumped off the rocks and I had to swim out to save him.’

  Tian frowned. ‘Impossible. Who’s stupid enough to go swimming in winter?’

  The comment stung but I ignored my pride. ‘Tell them, Ming.’

  ‘It was a boy,’ he said quietly. ‘But I don’t think he was a villager.’

  ‘Who was he? What was he doing out there?’ Kamshui and Ah-Jun were both fascinated but the village boys were quiet.

  ‘That was the craziest part! He said he was …’ but I was cut off with a sharp nudge from Ming.

  ‘He was just – he was just going for a swim,’ Ming said hastily.

  Tian lifted an eyebrow. ‘Going for a swim? Are you sure?’ But he wasn’t talking to me, he kept his gaze on Ming, coaching him with his eyes.

  I opened my mouth to protest but then saw Ming’s face. His lip was quivering, his eyes big and round. He didn’t say anything.

  Tian turned to me, his eyes narrowed. ‘Where’d you pull him out from?’ he asked.

  ‘Just down by the water. Off the cliffs,’ I said evenly.

  Tian nodded and turned to the group. ‘Probably just a suicide then.’

  ‘A suicide?’ I arched my brow. I hadn’t thought that for an instant and was just about to say so.

  ‘Yeah, it was probably just a suicide.’ Ming’s voice was so timid, I hardly recognised it. I thought again to protest but Ming was now watching me with pleading eyes.

  He was scared.

  It was only then that I remembered what Ming had told me about his father. Was this what the boy was actually doing? Was he trying to escape to Hong Kong?

  Even though I wanted to argue, I felt sorry for my friend, so I relented.

  ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I guess we just rescued a suicide jumper.’ I snatched my book of quotations and tried to read, but the words blurred together as I went over the rescue again and again my head.

  The rest of the evening was spent in tense silence.

  The next evening, I collected a letter from home. There was a shiftiness in Hongbing’s eyes when he handed me the thin envelope, bumpy along the edges, like it had been opened and resealed.

  ‘What’s this?’ I demanded but Hongbing said nothing.

  Back at the dormitory, I stuck my thumb under the edge and the flap gave straightaway. Someone had opened my letter and not even bothered to cover their tracks. I felt a chill as I unfolded the sheet of paper and recognised my mother’s miniscule handwriting.

  My dearest eldest son,

  Tragedy has befallen our family. Your father has been taken away. The guards came in, ransacked our books, destroyed our home, overturned everything. They confiscated some papers that your father had tucked away in a gap in the wall; I never knew they were there or what they were even about. And they took him away. They won’t tell me anything, only that he has been sent to a prison camp in the Southern region. They will not divulge his crimes or the charges against him, only that he must be suitably admonished for his reactionary thinking.

  I am beside myself, a prisoner in my own house. I cannot go outside for the neighbours whisper and cast judging glances. The shopkeepers won’t serve me and I hate to send Tze in my place. Your sister cannot show her face in the youth league and your brother still has no gainful employment; he will never find a job with this black mark on his record. Your father’s actions have destroyed our family and cursed the Li name.

  My son, my heart aches for your return home. You are fulfilling a duty for our great country but it comes at the cost of your duty to your family. I shed a mother’s bitter tears and wail for your return to care for your siblings.

  Your heart-hurting Mama

  My heart stopped. My mind blanked. A cold nothingness settled over me.

  There was no coming back. Our family was doomed.

  I don’t know how many times I read my mother’s letter, trying to make sense of the words. My father in prison? A reactionary? I pictured the gap in the wall. A part of the house had started to come apart with age that

  Father was forever putting off fixing, despite Mother’s constant nagging. Was this why? So that he could use it as a hiding place to squirrel away incriminating documents? For how long? To what purpose? A mistake surely, wasn’t it?

  A wave of nausea went through me and I thought I would vomit but only my thoughts kept churning.

  The rest of the night was a blur. I walked. That’s all I did. One foot in front of the other. I had no destination in mind. I may have been going in circles, naturally sticking to the familiar beaten paths.

  I kept running over my mother’s desperate plea. The suffering in her words pained me. She was fragile on her own; she relied wholly on my father financially and emotionally. I wanted to go home, but there was no way I would be allowed to leave. Besides, what reason could I give?

  I need to go home because my father is in prison for being a counter-revolutionary.

  It didn’t make sense. It had to be a mistake, I told myself over and over. But there was a niggling hitch in my inner voice, a hesitation I couldn’t deny.

  What if it was true?

  At some point I’d wandered off those familiar paths, and now the ground was soft under my feet. I was trudging through mud and marsh, a long way from the village boundaries.

  A gentle trickling came from up ahead, and something pulled me towards the sound. Now I was clambering over rocks, hunched over to feel my way along, my hands guiding my feet. It was too dark to see much, with thick trees blocking the moonlight. But I pushed on, ignoring the branches and the gravel cutting into my skin.

  I don’t know at what point I realised I’d reached the river. The haunted river the villagers had warned me about. I’d been wrong, I had been following a path, but one overgrown from lack of use. The wind picked up around me and the branches cast gruesome shadows in the moonlight. Even though I knew they were nothing but silly superstitions, I was suddenly scared. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out the sounds of rushing waters.

  And then a soft moan.

  I whipped around but there was nothing but black. My fingers clutched at the rocks. A rustling to my left, but once again there was nothing there. I could feel my heart thundering.

  I couldn’t see him so much as feel him. A presence, suffocating every inch of my body down to the fine hairs on my arms and the spaces between my bones. And then there was a sudden flickering, like someone switching on a light in my mind as the moon emerged from behind a cloud, so I could see the apparition.

  ‘You.’ It was the boy from the rocks. I almost laughed out loud at my silliness for expecting a spirit.

  The boy said nothing, just gazed up at me through long lashes. His eyes grew wide and he reached out a shaky hand. It appeared almost translucent, perhaps a trick of the moonlight but once again, I felt afraid. I froze in place, suddenly unsure if the boy before me was in fact real or imaginary.

  His lips moved as if to speak, and then he turned and sprinted for the river.

  ‘Wait,’ I called after him, as once more I watched the shape of the boy take a flying leap and plunge over the rocks and into the water.

  He vanished, replaced by the roar of the river. Shaking, I sank to my knees.

  And the world went silent.

  Chapter 11

  MING

  The villagers were gathered at the work hall, whispering behind their hands instead of setting off for the fields. I was on alert but I couldn’t be sure if their murmurs were about me.

  Li’s bed had looked untouched that morning. He hadn’t come back the night before. I scanned the crowds now, looking for his face. But he wasn’t there.

  I spotted Tian and he waved me over, keeping his voice low. ‘Did you hear? They found a body in the river.’

  My heart ri
cocheted. Li? But before I could ask, Tian shook his head. ‘It was the boy from the other day. The one you and Li saved.’

  The boy from the ocean. He must have tried swimming again. I swallowed, unsure of what it all meant and wishing Li was here. ‘What happened?’

  ‘The body got lodged on some rocks right before the river emptied into the sea. It’s in Long-chi right now, they’re going to take it out to sea and feed him to the fish.’ Tian narrowed his eyes. ‘You knew what he was doing, didn’t you? How did he know to follow the river?’

  My face flushed. Was Tian accusing me? ‘I – I …’ But I had no words.

  Tian shook his head. ‘Idiot,’ he muttered and I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the boy or me. I could hear the whispers getting louder, feeling the eyes of some of the villagers on me. I tried to ignore them but it felt like tight walls were forming around me. The air was stifling and it was difficult to breathe. I scanned the crowd again for a sign of Li. His absence was a knot in the pit of my stomach.

  Commander Hongbing burst into the hall.

  ‘Where is Comrade Li?’ he demanded. ‘He hasn’t reported in since last evening.’

  I needed to get out of there. ‘I’ll go find him,’ I volunteered.

  The Commander grumbled but he gave me permission to go.

  I felt better once I was outside. I didn’t have a clue where to look for Li but I set off down the main road, desperate to put some distance between me and the village. Without thinking about it, I was headed into Long-chi.

  My thoughts turned back to the boy. Where was he headed? Was he following the same route Ba had planned? It came rushing back to me now, in my father’s voice, a tidal wave of memory that I had unknowingly kept at bay.

  ‘Following the river is just the beginning of journey. If you were to really go to Hong Kong, you would have to cross the river at the main bend and scamper over the old rope bridge to the base of the peninsula’s tallest peak. (Would the bridge still be there? I wondered.) From there, there was no footpath to get to the other side, but the rocks were smooth and even so it wouldn’t be hard to forge a path to the sea. On the other side, there would be guards and dogs, but if one managed to avoid them in the dead of the night, you could reach the beach …’

  I snapped back to the present. The road veered left into town and right to the river. I squinted at the path to the right. Was that a break that I could see in the weeds? I almost went to have a closer look, but my feet kept to the route that was well-trodden and while my mind considered the alternative, my body turned towards Long-chi.

  The little town was busy and there were crowds of people gathered in the square. I was relieved that nobody seemed to notice me and I slipped passed, still keeping an eye out for Li.

  I spotted him under the statue of Old Lao. He was folded up, half sitting, half squatting, his head between his knees.

  ‘Li!’

  He turned towards my voice, but it was as if he was looking right through me. His gaze was distant and unsettling, so unlike him. His clothes were filthy and one sleeve was torn. His hair was wild and his eyes were sunken and dark. I was certain he hadn’t slept.

  ‘Li.’ My voice was soft. ‘Where were you? What happened last night?’

  ‘I saw him, Ming. I saw him again. By the river.’ His eyes finally met mine.

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled at the mention of the river. A lump rose in my throat.

  ‘Come on, let’s get you home, lie down a bit,’ I suggested. ‘I can tell Hongbing you’re unwell …’

  Li grabbed my arm so hard I could feel the individual bones of his fingers. ‘I saw him again, Ming. The boy. I don’t know where he’s from, but he came here. To swim. He told me so when we pulled him out of the ocean. But last night, he jumped in the river.’ His fingers dug even deeper and he dropped to a whisper. ‘Was he a freedom swimmer like your father?’

  But before I could answer, the crowd shifted around us. ‘Make way, make way.’ A procession was snaking up the square. Four men were carrying a makeshift stretcher slung between bamboo poles. There was a body in it and I recognised the boy we had rescued. It was hunched over with its ear pressed to the ground, the clothes hanging off it in shreds. It had its eyes wide open, the mouth twisting open, froth coating the bluish lips as if in mid-scream. As the men marched past, I recognised the look of terror in those dead eyes.

  I looked away. The sight conjured up images of other bodies that had been brought through the village. I was suddenly grateful Ma hadn’t let me see my father’s body. I shuddered and shook my head to clear the thoughts.

  Li was still gripping my arm. ‘That was him. That’s what happened to him.’ His face was ashen, like he’d seen a ghost, and I was afraid he would throw up on the spot. Finally, he let go of me and sank to the ground, overcome by weariness and exhaustion.

  My heart broke for him, but I couldn’t find the words to say so. ‘Come on, Hongbing’s looking for you,’ I said gently.

  Eventually, he staggered to his feet, gripping my hand for support. I was shocked by how shattered he looked, like he had aged ten years in a single night.

  We were silent for the trek back. I was hoping Li wouldn’t say anything when we passed the path to the river but to no avail.

  ‘Why don’t the villagers go to the river?’ His voice was hoarse and scratchy, like it had been used for screaming. What happened to him last night?

  ‘Bodies. That’s where we put the bodies when everyone died,’ I said.

  ‘Your mother?’

  I nodded.

  Li pursed his lips. ‘What about the swim?’

  My eyes were stinging and I shut them tight, willing Li to let me go. I felt the rush of fear and panic, too used to the taunting and accusations from the villagers, and every nerve in my body wanted to run away.

  But this wasn’t Caocao, or the Cadre, or an official who was out to get me into trouble. This wasn’t even Tian, bossing me to do something for what he insisted was my own good.

  This was Li. And Li was my friend.

  ‘My father said the easiest way to reach the other side of the peninsula was to follow the river to its biggest bend.’ I closed my eyes, picturing the trail for the second time today. We were utterly alone on the road, but my skin still prickled as if it could feel eyes in the weeds.

  ‘You have to climb up the peak and back down. It’s maybe four li to the shore. Then another four, maybe six li swimming, maybe more. There are sharks and guards but if you make it past them, there’s an island – you can see it from the other side of the peninsula. I think its name means Level Land. It’s not Hong Kong, but if you make it to the shore, they’ll take you in to get your papers – that’s what they all say anyway.’ I swallowed hard, not trusting my own thoughts. ‘I’ve never known anyone – not since my father …’ Wherever my mind was going with that idea, it stopped and my words trailed off.

  Li’s eyelids were heavy and I noticed a small vein throbbing in his forehead. He didn’t look up at me.

  ‘Have you ever thought about it?’ I wasn’t sure the question was meant for me but I answered anyway. As truthfully as I could.

  ‘Sometimes.’ It was more than I had admitted to anyone except Tian. ‘When I’m out in the fields and the sun is burning, my arms feel like they’re falling off and I know there won’t be anything but a handful of millet gruel for dinner. When the Cadre deducts our points and rations for no reason. But it’s all just dreaming,’ I added quickly. ‘Like wishing you could fly.’

  Li nodded wearily and said no more. We walked the rest of the way in companionable silence.

  When we returned to the village, Commander Hongbing was waiting for us. ‘What are you layabouts doing?’ he barked sternly. I snapped to attention.

  Hongbing stormed over to Li, practically shouting in his ear. I took a step back. ‘Are you a lazy fool living on the Party’s hard work? Get to the fields, comrade!’

  I was stunned. This was completely different from h
ow I’d seen Hongbing with Li in the past. These two were no longer comrades.

  I opened my mouth to protest but without another word, Li staggered towards the hall to collect his tools.

  I didn’t know what to do. So I followed.

  We made it through a long day in the fields, squatting in the dirt, planting young peanuts in the troughs we’d dug. We were more sluggish than usual, still shaken up from the morning’s events. People whispered in their own huddled family groups and once again I felt the glances thrown my way. I did my best to ignore them but I felt like I was fighting back tears all day.

  Li and some of the other city boys had been assigned to a new field close to mine. They were looking particularly battered as they struggled up and down their rows. I kept an eye on Li. He was usually one of the hardest working of the group, but he kept stopping to lean on his tools, eyes squeezed shut and brow matted with sweat.

  At the end of the day, there was a mad dash to report our day’s work as all the boys wanted to beat the queue. But Commander Hongbing made Li put in extra hours to make up for the time he’d lost in the morning. I stayed behind to watch him working by himself, long after the sun had set and he was forced to work by the dim moonlight. He was a lone figure in the darkness, bent double like an animal, huffing and puffing and screaming at the earth. Finally, he set down his tools and curled up in the fetal position beside them.

  I didn’t need to hear his sobs to know that he was crying.

  It was completely dark by the time I found him on the beach, staring out to sea. I wasn’t sure if he had seen me watching him or if he would be embarrassed that I had seen him cry.

  ‘I’m sorry about Hongbing,’ I said finally. ‘He seems worse than the Cadre.’

  Li sighed heavily and sprawled on to his back to stare up at the stars. ‘It’s not that, Ming. What happens when everything you ever believed in is turned on its head?’ he asked, though I didn’t think he expected an answer. ‘Like finding out that what you thought was the sun rising in the morning was actually the moon. That when you laughed, your soul was really crying. That your family is your enemy and you know your enemies better than your friends.’