Freedom Swimmer

by Wai Chim

  We sat in silence, Li clearly trying to work out whatever it was that had shaken him so badly.

  That night, Li lay in bed, his face turned away from me. The awful day was finally over. I had no more thoughts or words of my own so I crawled over to my bunk and pulled out my book of Mao.

  The next day, Li had developed a fever. His skin was white and clammy, his whole body shaking under the covers. He could barely open his eyes, let alone stand, so Tian and I had to half-carry, half-drag him to the doctor’s house. He stayed there all day and through the night.

  On Sunday, I tucked my book of Mao quotes under my arm and set off to pick up Li for our lesson with Fei and Shu. But Nurse Xi wouldn’t even let me in to see him.

  ‘His fever won’t break and he’s been delirious all night.’ There was no hiding the concern in her face. ‘I’ve kept a cold compress on his head so he won’t burn his brain.’

  ‘Will he be okay?’ I gripped the book in my hand so tightly I could feel my skin pressing into the embossed lettering.

  She sighed and shook her head. ‘Only time can tell. But he needs to rest. Come back tomorrow and maybe he’ll be better.’

  Nurse Xi shut the door.

  I swallowed hard and stared down at the red book in my hand. There were no answers there. I squeezed my eyes shut and remembered the prayers Ma had taught me. The shrines we used to keep in our homes had been dismantled and we weren’t supposed to worship the old deities anymore. But now, I fell to my knees and bowed my forehead to the ground three times, silently begging the gods to look after my friend.

  Fei’s eyes were wide as moon crescents when she answered the door. She poked her head out, scanning left and right. ‘Where’s Li?’

  I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the heat rise to my face. ‘He – uh – he’s unwell.’

  ‘Oh.’ She seemed uncertain, like she wanted to say more.

  ‘I – ah – guess we should cancel the lesson then?’ I stammered.

  Her face fell. ‘Well, I mean, you know, you came all this way.’ She stared down at her feet. ‘And my aunt’s not even here, she’s away visiting relatives. The boys are with me, of course;’ she added when she realised what she’d said. I watched her face flush pink. ‘I mean, they’re playing now but they’ll be back. I’m looking after them until she gets back tomorrow.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ I nodded and she smiled.

  I mustered the courage to say, ‘Shall we continue with our lesson then?’

  I took the seat usually reserved for Aunt Shu and Fei grabbed an upturned bucket and settled down beside me. She was so close, I could smell her, that same salty sweet sourness that was so delectably Fei. My pulse was racing and I felt my stomach turn over. I tried to keep my hands steady as I cracked open the book to the marked section where we had last left off.

  ‘All reactionaries are paper tigers.’ Fei tilted her head to read over my shoulder and I noticed the snow whiteness of her neck. ‘In appearance, reactionaries are terrifying but in reality they are not so powerful.’

  ‘Hmmmm,’ Fei mused. ‘Chairman Mao’s a very observant man, isn’t he?’

  I was captivated by the lilt in her voice and just wanted her to keep talking. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I don’t think he’s even talking about the Party in this case. Sure he means the reactionaries, but isn’t it true in real life? The things that scare us the most turn out to just be how we perceive them? You know, like all the silly things we believe. Like demons have possessed a baby if it cries and it’s not hungry, or that the river is haunted. Who says they are so bad anyway? Maybe it’s just in our heads.’

  I nodded along, drunk on her nearness. She caught me staring and shyly dropped her gaze but I could see a small smile playing on her lips. ‘Sorry, I got carried away.’ She shifted in her seat, so that our knees were almost touching. ‘Auntie Shu says I’m a silly girl.’

  ‘No, no, not at all. I think it makes perfect sense. And you’re right, Chairman Mao’s a smart man.’ I wanted to change the topic, I had no interest in the lesson at all. ‘Do you, do you still think about your sister?’ I ventured.

  She nodded. ‘I always want to go down there, to look for her. Even though it’s been so many years, it haunts my soul. Like a part of me feels that if I keep looking she will pop out from behind a tree and say, “Here I am!” and come back to me.’ She sighed, and gave a little shrug. ‘But I’m afraid to. Because every time I don’t find her, I’m a little bit more sure she’s really gone.’

  She turned her cheek to me. Her wide eyes were framed by thin lashes. There was a stray one, just on the tip of her nose. Before I knew what was happening, I reached out and caught it on my finger.

  She smiled and gazed at my face. ‘Your eye is twitching.’ ‘Really?’ I went to cover it but she reached out and touched my cheek, just beneath my eye.

  ‘A twitch in your left eye means good things will come.’ She smiled again and I felt my heart fluttering, my face on fire where her soft fingertips brushed my skin.

  At that moment, we heard whooping and hollering accompanied by the usual stampede as the boys raced into the room. The lesson was officially over.

  ‘Fei! Fei!’ One of the boys crashed into her, nearly bowling her over with his small body. She laughed and ruffled him in the hair. He gave me a suspicious glare.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’

  ‘Kai, don’t be rude,’ Fei scolded gently. ‘Ming is our teacher, but he’s also our friend, so he’s welcome. Now go clean up.’ She dismissed her cousin with a playful punch.

  ‘I – I should get along,’ I mumbled. As I stood up to go, Fei reached out and caught me by the arm.

  ‘Would you like to stay for dinner?’ She smiled playfully. ‘I don’t think my cooking would beat my aunt’s, but it’d be a change from eating with the boys.’

  I was grinning so much that I was sure my mouth would split in two.

  Chapter 12

  LI

  Hot. Burning. My insides on fire. I wrapped myself in tighter, trying to smother the blaze that scorched my lungs by curling up around it to snuff it out. But while my chest, stomach and organs burned, my limbs trembled with cold. Fire and ice. My tortured cocoon.

  Voices. Shadows. Strings of light. Some real. Others visions in my head. A ghost boy. My father. Noose. On his knees. Cackling. The boy diving. Once. Twice. Leaping off the rocks. Voices again. Scolding. Shouting. More cackling. Soothing murmurs. A matron’s coo.

  All of it a mess in my head.

  I slept and woke. I woke to be dunked in tepid well water. I slept when dried and wrapped up like a rice roll, steaming from the inside out. The fire inside me would not be quenched. And still I burned.

  It was day four when my fever finally broke. I knew this only because the doctor’s wife kept a calendar hanging over the makeshift bed. She marked off each day as it passed with a bold red pen.

  I realised with a start that it was only four weeks until the New Year. I had been at the village for more than half a year.

  ‘We’re awake today.’ Nurse Xu smiled warmly.

  I tried to smile but it took a lot of effort. My whole body felt like it had been dragged through thick mud.

  Nurse Xi came over and pressed the back of her hand against my forehead.

  ‘The fever has definitely broken, but you’re still warm. Are you hungry?’

  My stomach gurgled in response and I managed a weak laugh. ‘I’m sure your home cooking would set me right up.’

  She left to get the stove going. I leaned back against the hard pillow, sighing. I’d slept for days but my mother’s letter was still fresh in my mind. It was a dull ache, ever present though I tried to push it aside for at least a while.

  Nurse Xi returned with a piping hot bowl of plain congee that she had sprinkled with spring onions, fried garlic and some soy sauce. Its smooth saltiness felt good and I polished off the bowl in a few mouthfuls. The warmth spread through my muscles.

  ‘I di
dn’t realise you were telling the truth about my cooking,’ Nurse Xi said. I handed back my bowl.

  ‘You’ll spend one more night here, just to be sure, and we’ll have you back to work tomorrow,’ she said briskly. ‘Rest now. Your friend will be relieved to hear that you’re up. He’s been stopping by every day.’

  Her mention of Ming lifted my spirits even more and I settled back down to sleep.

  Ming arrived at midday. His look of relief matched Nurse Xi’s and I wondered how bad I’d been. I gave him a small wave.

  ‘How are things?’ I patted a spot on the bed and Ming perched on the edge. ‘Has Feng taken over the brigade and named himself Commander?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Ming smiled. ‘We’ve all been worried about you. I’m glad you’re okay.’

  ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily,’ I said and he chortled. I liked how easy it was to make him smile. ‘I’m looking forward to getting out of here and going back to our lessons.’ Over the past weeks, we’d both noticed that I could almost keep up with Ming’s sure strokes.

  Ming suddenly grew serious. ‘They’re patrolling the beaches now. They won’t let people in the water, not even on this side of the peninsula. No more swimming.’

  ‘Because of the boy?’ I asked.

  Ming dropped his gaze. ‘He wasn’t from around here. He was from Huizhou, but he was sent to a village maybe forty li away for reactionary crimes. He was found with a book in English and accused of studying to be a Russian spy. He ran away, and got as far as Longgang by train then walked the rest of the way here, hiding from the guards. They found forged papers in his pockets, residency permits for different sections, including one for here.

  ‘The water was too cold and the currents too strong. I don’t think he made it much further than that break of waves just off the rocks. Maybe he thought he could swim all the way around, or he didn’t realise he was on the wrong shore.’ Ming shook his head. ‘What a stupid idea. If they’d found him alive, they’d have punished him more. He’d never have seen his family again.’

  The image of the boy on the rocks sprang to mind – the peaceful but determined look on his face before he plunged into the sea. Stupid? I was leaning more towards courageous, even if a bit foolhardy. I realised I admired him, much more than the stories about the heroes that fought for the glory of the Party. There was a spark in my mind that I couldn’t dismiss.

  ‘Hey, how’d the lesson go with Fei?’ I remembered suddenly. ‘Did the demon lady spit fire at you?’

  Ming flushed, that quiet shyness about him always there at the surface. He shuffled about and said, ‘Well, Aunt Shu wasn’t there.’

  My eyebrows shot so high, I thought they would crash through the worn out tiles in Doctor Xi’s roof. ‘She wasn’t there? So what happened?’

  Ming swayed, his lips twitching.

  ‘Fei and I had the lesson,’ he said finally. ‘And I stayed for dinner.’

  ‘Hah!’ My guffaw was raucous.

  ‘Wow! Dinner, she cooked dinner? Just the two of you?’ I knew just what this gesture meant.

  ‘Her cousins were there,’ Ming added quickly. ‘It wasn’t just us. But yeah, it was … nice.’

  He went on to describe the whole meal in perfect detail, praising Fei’s cooking while I nodded along. I didn’t particularly want to hear his ramblings about the way she spooned rice into his bowl or the artistry in how she set out chopsticks. But when it came to Fei, Ming never seemed to find it hard to say exactly what was on his mind. I listened patiently to his love-struck story.

  I was happy for my friend, really happy for him – and that managed to cut through the pain of my own problems.

  I slept fitfully. After days of semi-consciousness, my mind was wide awake in the dead of night. What my family was facing came back to me in full force.

  We were branded now – the family of a counterrevolutionary.

  How could this be?

  I refused to think about my father but the questions wouldn’t stop coming. Was he just a traitor with an easy smile? He was prone to idealist thinking, were the signs always there?

  It had to be a mistake. He had mentioned he had been awarded a government contract, was evidence planted on him? Did someone make a false accusation? A friend or a colleague? Or was I just blind to his faults and he was a political criminal?

  I needed answers. But Mother had only said he’d been sent away. She didn’t even know where.

  My mind swam through murky thoughts.

  The next morning, I went back to the dormitory. The room was empty; everyone must have already reported to the fields. I was looking for my other clean shirt when I spotted a note left on my bed.

  Mister Li,

  Please report immediately.

  Commander Hongbing

  I eyed it warily, noting the way he’d addressed me. Mister – not Comrade. Something was amiss. I thought of my mother’s letter, how it had looked tampered with. Was there anything incriminating in there?

  I changed quickly and headed out. I spotted Hongbing just up the pathway, in his full Red Guard uniform, arms crossed defiantly. Feng was with him.

  ‘Mister Li, I am pleased to see you are back in full health,’ Feng said sweetly, though I could detect the hint of a sneer.

  I stiffened. Feng and I hadn’t spoken much except about ordinary matters since the incident with Zhu. His peculiar manner put me on edge.

  ‘Well, this village has excellent facilities. The local doctor and his wife rival the best care in the city.’ I pulled myself up to my full height so he would have to tilt his head to look up to me.

  Hongbing broke in. ‘Our superiors will be pleased to hear this, as it goes to show the true value of our education program and why we are here.’ Feng licked his lips, almost greedily. This was serious, like the times my classmates had been forced into confession and self-criticism sessions. I was in deep trouble.

  ‘You wanted to see me, Commander,’ I said.

  ‘Ah, yes, Comrade Li.’ Hongbing had his usual confidence and air of authority but I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable.

  ‘Some of the team members and I, well, we would like to ask you a few questions of an official nature.’ He fiddled with the sleeves of his uniform. ‘Given that there is no official Party headquarters for our brigade in the village yet, the Cadre has kindly volunteered his own offices for us to conduct a formal interview.’

  ‘Right, right now?’ I stammered. Formal interviews were for people suspected of reactionary behaviour or political crimes. Depending on the accused, it could just be questions, or the Party might present ‘proof ’ to catch out liars and force a confession. The letter my mother had sent must have raised questions. My father’s supposed crimes were already having an effect on my reputation, even here.

  Hongbing nodded and Feng smirked in triumph. I recognised that smugness, the accusatory gleam of the Red Guards. We all had the same look of righteous outrage back in school when the Cultural Revolution had first taken hold – during the struggle sessions particularly.

  Master Wu was a classical music teacher who had once upon a time been a proud instructor on Russian opera and composers. When the Revolution started, he was reduced to teaching nothing more than songs praising Mao.

  One day I arrived at school to find a Big Character poster draped over the main balcony. ‘Wu is a wretched Western sympathiser and Russian spy.’ One of my classmates told me that someone had found Russian sheet music in Wu’s collection and reported it to the leader of our local Red Guards. The headmaster and the rest of the faculty were powerless to stop us.

  Wu was brought into the courtyard, the Red Guards shoving and spitting at him. They gave him a bamboo pole, weighted down on both ends with heavy buckets of stones, to carry on his shoulders. He hunched in the middle of the crowd, a dunce cap on his head, as they berated him for hours, hurling obscenities and demanding he confess to increasingly ridiculous crimes.

  I am a pig Westerner who eats his own faeces.
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br />   I am a pig Westerner who eats his own faeces and smells his own stink farts.

  I am a pig Westerner who eats his own faeces and smells his own stink farts listening to the counter-revolutionary music of my wretched pig Westerner employers.

  And on it went.

  I hadn’t been an official member of the Red Guards then. My application had only just been submitted and I was still waiting for the official review. But I had joined in the jibes. I remembered Master Wu once boasting about being in the national orchestra and travelling overseas to play. ‘Maybe he was a spy,’ I reasoned. But, more importantly, I remembered that he had once marked down our entire class because one student had stolen a recorder from the classroom after school hours. Rather than making the culprit confess, Wu had punished the entire class. Maybe I thought he deserved the berating he was getting at the hands of the Red Guards.

  Now I wasn’t so sure.

  Hongbing spun on his heels. Feng gestured for me to pass, so that he could bring up the rear, our own little procession through the village. I was trapped, like cattle on parade to the butcher.

  They marched me to the work hall and threw open the door. The main room where we registered every morning was empty. Hongbing led me to the back of the hall. This was where the Cadre and his two officials kept rooms for administrative purposes, although they rarely used them.

  Hongbing opened the door and led me through to the Cadre’s office.

  It was a cramped room, full of dust. I guessed the Cadre had more important matters to attend to (like napping in his own home) than bothering with office upkeep. A single light bulb dangled from the ceiling, flickering from the ancient generator that powered the building.